#i am exhausted. take this fiend

[mxrtified777]

it is a beautiful day in ancient egypt, and you are a horrible thief

[rinneverse]

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

The Colosseum

I started writing this and have no idea how to finish it or where to take it from here. I had an idea but lost it halfway through 😅

Valerie had had it with all of the ghosts in Amity. She could hardly sleep, was missing schools as a result because she was either too exhausted to stay awake long enough in class, or another ghost attack was forcing her to miss the entire period to go deal with that day’s trouble maker. Almost every part of her body hurt in one way or another. Bruises that should have faded by now but haven’t because every day she was out collecting more. She couldn’t blame Phantom either. He seemed just as tired and beat up as she was even with his healing factor.

With the number of ghost attacks having nearly tripled in frequency, they’d both come to the mutual decision that working together would be the best course of action to deal with the constant onslaught. And reluctantly, Val had to admit that Phantom might not be as bad she first assumed. She hadn’t anticipated actually getting along with the ghost as well as she had been. Much less the realisation that they could almost be considered…fiends now. Maybe. She refused to laugh at his god awful puns though, he didn’t need anymore encouragement.

But even with Phantom’s help, she was so tired. So, so, so very tired. And so one could say Valerie was well within her rights to say that this situation, was just more bullshit she didn’t need right now.

She had been trying to cram for the next upcoming test when there was a sudden flash of light, so bright it was blinding and she had to shield her eyes with her arms from the fear that this light might burn through her eyelids. Her body tingled, and she felt something wash over her. When the light subsided, just as quickly as it had appeared, she slowly opened her eyes.

“Where the hell am I?”

She was in a colosseum. The stone of the structure was a deep purple with intricate glimmering gold details carved into the walls and pilasters. There was a magic in the air that felt different to the sensation she would get in the Ghost Zone. The sky above was pitch black with more stars than Val had ever seen visible in Amity, and two moons.

So, not Earth then, she concluded.

“Hey Red, where are we?” Valerie spun around to see Phantom floating over to her, his eyes scanning the area around them. Then Val looked down at herself to see that she was in her Red Huntress suit. She couldn’t remember putting it on. Maybe that was what the full body sensation from earlier was about.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Val checked herself over, making sure she had all of her weapons on her should she need them. When she was satisfied she did, she put her hands on her hips and let her gaze wander over the arena.

“I don’t think we’re on Earth anymore,” Phantom muttered as he took in the sky above them. For a split second Val swore she saw his freckles glow a soft green as he was taking in the stars above them.

“We should start looking for a way out of here, or at least figure where here is,” Valerie had just turned to start walking when the ground rumbled and shook, “What-”

Another blinding flash of light appeared behind them. And once again, it had vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.

“What the hell was that?” A new voice asked from behind them.

Val and Phantom turned in unison to stare at the group in front of them. All of them were dressed in some sort of hero ensemble. It seemed the voice had come from a man donning a brown leather jacket over an armoured suit with a red bat symbol across his chest, an assortment of guns and other weaponry strapped to his body, and most notably a red helmet. He and the rest of his group seemed to be taking in their surroundings the same way Val and Phantom.

“Who are you? Were you the ones who summoned us?” Came a new voice, from a young man (or was he a teenager?) dressed in black leggings with a red tunic, utility belt, and a chest harness connecting to the symbol on the centre, a black cowl and a cape. In his hands was a bo staff. He and the others had all dropped into combat ready stances the moment they became aware that they weren’t the only people in the colosseum.

And from here I couldn’t figure out how to continue

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: I am tireddddd.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Professor Smith dresses you in a set of pajamas; white with blue stripes. They’re not your size, you assume they might be his. You’re not sure. You’re too woozy to think about much more than your throbbing hand. 

He lays you in the hotel bed as you shake uncontrollably. You’re freezing cold but he keeps touching your forehead and saying you’re burning up. How can that be when you can’t get warm? 

Your lashes flutter between glimpses of him pacing and sitting on the edge of the bed. When all is dark, you see his shadow beside you. His breathing suggests he’s asleep but you can’t tell. He’s up again as a halo of light shines around you. The lamp limns his figure as he pets your cheek. 

“Sweetheart, shh, you’re alright,” he coos, “no need to cry.” 

You’re crying? Why? You can’t remember. Your mind is a bubble of fractured thoughts and vague scenes. You can’t make scene of much between the visions of this man. 

“Fever’s broke,” he lays a wet cloth over your brow. “Very good. We’ll be off in the morning, won’t we?” 

“Mom?” You murmur in confusion. 

“Mm, let’s take one step at a time before all that, yes?” He caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Back to sleep.” 

He shuts off the light and you’re cast into grim blackness. His weight jostles the bed and you feel him spread out next to you. The bed is more than large enough for you both. 

“Professor,” you croak weakly. “What’s...” 

“In the morning,” he girds. 

You accept it, “sorry.” 

“Never be sorry,” he reaches over to squeeze your arm lightly.  

You lay in silence. Your eyes close on their own. You are completely drained. You sink down into a solid void that suffocates away all light and life. When you awake again, you’re alone. You might think it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the bright hotel walls. 

You remain as you are. You don’t have the energy to get up. You lift your hand and look at the bandage wrapped around it. It feels better and your fingers aren’t swollen. You bend them. It still hurts. 

The door opens and you drop your arm. You squeak at the pain. 

“Sweetheart, is all well?” Raymond rushes over, a tray in his hand. “I was only meaning to fetch some of the complimentary breakfast before we depart.” 

You blink and shake your head, “fine. I’m... fine.” 

“I hope you like coffee--” 

“Coffee?” You whimper and close your eyes. “Coffee...” you mutter. “I went to get coffee and...” 

“Yes, that fiend meant to attack you. You see, I did not come without purpose. How could I sit back and see you neglected?” 

“You don’t... I don’t know... you.” 

“Hush, hush, you must be hungry,” he insists. “It is good to eat. You are weak from the infection still. You must take care--” 

“My mom--” you look at him. 

He sucks in air and his jaw tenses. He steels himself and his fingers twitch. “Yes, a woman who allows her own daughter be abused.” 

“She... she couldn’t stop him--” 

“She should not bring the beast home with her,” he snips. “Please, you would not survive in such an environment.” 

“Why... would you come here?” 

He exhales and his eye bats, as if he can’t control it. “Why wouldn’t I after what I witnessed? Then you would not answer. I had half a suspicion you were dead.” 

“I’m sorry, I... didn’t mean to worry you but... it’s not your problem.” 

He hums and set the tray on the night stand. He offers a cup of coffee, “are you so used to being forgotten that you cannot accept kindness?” 

“No, it isn’t... I’m sorry.” 

“And the apologies. No need for it. I am not admonishing you. I am merely offering advice.” He takes your good hand and makes you take the cup. “There is much more you need to learn than accounting, I gather.” 

You frown and look at the dark coffee. 

“If you prefer milk or sugar, I grabbed some of each,” he explains and gestures to the tray. “Of course, you shouldn’t drink that in bed else you might stain the sheets.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you push the blankets back and move carefully. 

The pajamas brush against your stomach and you look down. You’re reminded of the day before. Naked in the tub. In front of him. You’ve never been so exposed before. You slump your shoulders and go to the table and sit. 

You look down at your burnt hand and bring up to examine the bandage again, “thank you...” you raise it higher. 

“Certainly. And who wouldn’t see to the festering infection? Are you not concerned that not even your own mother cared for that matter?” 

“Can we not talk about her?” You sniffle and rest your hand in your lap. “You should take me home.” 

“Home? That is no home. Now, you should eat. Keep your strength up so you can heal properly.” He girds. 

You nod and take a cautious sip of coffee. You’re still reeling, maybe even slightly delirious. You set the cup down again and lift your chin. You look at his neck, not his face. 

“Why?” You ask. 

“Why...” He echoes as he sits across from you. 

“Why help me?” 

He takes a packet of sanitizing wipes and uses them to clean the cutlery. You watch his diligent work. Everything he does is precise and purposeful. And cleanly. He seems to detest the thought of dirtiness and yet you can only feel like filth next to him. 

“Well, it should be a question, should it? It is humane. Decent. So, I shouldn’t need to name the reason for it.” He lays down each piece before he sets to claiming a muffin, then a scoop of the scrambled eggs, and strips of bacon with sausage too. “Though if you insist, I will give one. Firstly, let us underline that point. What you need, what you want, I would be more than willing to supply, but then, circle around to your query; why should I help you?” 

He takes the rest of the cutlery and wipes it then hands it to you. He makes you up a plate as he continues, “you, sweetheart, have great potential. I’ve seen it. And that would be spoiled all for a poor foundation. Now that is not your own doing, mind you, you cannot help where you come from, and more admirably,” he sets the plate before you, “you were fighting against it and so I only thought to lower the ladder for you.” 

You blink and focus on the food. You’re not very hungry. You feel slightly queasy but you would hate to be ungrateful. All these questions already make you feel so.  

“Thank you,” you croak and make yourself look at him. “Really...” 

You don’t know how to say it. You already feel pathetic and you don’t need to sink further. No one’s ever been that concerned about you. No one ever tried to help you. Most people just laughed, called you names, or pushed you down themselves. 

“Please, don’t trouble yourself very much, eh? I have the means to help. It would be selfish not to. A sort of passing the torch. I wasn’t born to wealth myself, or peace. Life can be a war on its own,” he gives a gentle smile beneath his thick beard. “Oh, and I did take some clothing from your home before our flight. I was able to use the hotel laundry. It should suffice, though I hardly trust their cleaning staff.” 

“Yes, sir,” you answer. 

“Raymond, please,” he corrects you. 

📓

Professor Smith, or Raymond as he insists, drives you across the city. He turns in the car at the rental place then leads you into the train station a block away. He’s patient, not hurrying you, and he pays for your ticket and his. You feel guilty for the expense. 

As you sit and wait on the platform, you fidget. You chew your lip and curl your fingers, the burn stinging beneath the bandages. 

“Are you well?” He checks in. He does every now and then. 

“Um, yes...” you look at the tracks, “I’ve never been on a train.” 

“A first, very exciting,” he muses. 

You nod and let your eyes wander. You’re nervous but too much to ask what makes you so. He moves so his leg is against yours. 

“Your hand?” He prompts. 

“It’s feeling better,” you assure.” 

“Very well.” He sits back and puffs out through his nose, “we will go to my home. You can recover there and when you feel up to it, we will go over your last assignment and see you through the course--” 

“Professor-- Raymond,” you sputter as you face him. “You don’t have to do all this.” 

“I am not a man who does things he doesn’t wish to,” he replies. “I’ve explained myself enough. It is unacceptable to me to let you return to where I found you. I couldn’t allow you in such an unsafe circumstance. Especially after what I witnessed.” 

“It-- he just yelled, that’s all.” You murmur. 

“Is that all? He had nothing to do with this?” He points to your hand. 

You shrink and shake your head. He clucks. 

“You are honest and so you are a poor liar. What I saw was more than yelling, sweetheart. You will not convince me otherwise. I know, this is a peculiar situation, but it is your way out,” he says, “tell me, you never thought of it.” 

Your lack of response is enough of one. Your eyes are hot, and your mouth is dry. Your leg jiggles restlessly. 

A lull rises as the chatter of others rolls through the platform. Soon, you hear the whine of metal on metal, and a bright beam shines from the tunnel. The train speeds through and grinds to a stop.  

You follow Raymond’s every move. When he stands, you stand. As he grabs his bag, you go to do the same but he has it in hand first. He gestures you ahead of him. You reluctantly approach the train. 

“The second from the front,” he instructs from behind. “I’ve our tickets.” 

You follow his direction. You’re good at that. As a professor, he’s just as good at giving orders. As you approach the waiting attendant, he reaches around to hand over the tickets. The woman in her uniform tears of the ends and hands them back. 

You step onto the small metal footstool and then climb the stairs of the train car. You pause as he puts your bags into the netted caddy near the front. He urges you on with another point and recites the seat numbers. You find them and stare at the row. 

“Would you like window or aisle?” He tucks away the tickets. 

“Mm, what do you like?” You ask. 

“Please, have the window. You did say it’s your first,” he insists. 

You duck your head and sit. He lowers himself next to you and slips a bottle from inside his jacket. He pops the cap open and offers it quietly. You glance over at the sanitizer. You don’t want to be rude so you put your unbandaged hand out. He dollops it into your palm, then his own, and puts it away. 

He rubs his palms together and you sanitize around your bandage and your uninjured hand. You sit back and look out at the platform. He’s a very stringent man but you might only think so because you’re used to no rules at all. He’s thorough too. He seems to think of everything.  

You look at him but think better of asking what you want to. He catches your glance before you can turn back. He shifts toward you, leaning on the outer armrest. 

“Go on,” he urges, “you can say whatever you need.” 

“Sorry, it’s nothing.” 

“Please,” he opens his hand encouragingly. 

You drop your eyes and wet your lips. You’re going to sound so dumb. “Do you really think I could... I could do something? Like you? Like... like... accounting?” 

He chuckles softly. It’s not mocking or mean. It’s soothing. 

“I do believe so,” he says. “You needn’t fret. Let yourself time to heal, then all that will come after.” 

You sniff and sit back. You don’t know if you agree with him, but you’ll try. That’s all you can do. It’s what you should do after he’s gone to all this effort. 

[monbons]

Stitch Sunday

I've been back at work for a week and am already exhausted. The beginning of the year is always brutal (this one more so because I am training a new teaching partner), so time for anything outside of school is hard to come by. BUT! I was determined to finish BunBaz, so may I present ...

No Trauma Bun Baz!

Ready for the fall season, this bun is rocking his favorite sleeveless tee in the pumpkin patch. He was sipping on a pumpkin mocha breve earlier, but the photographer didn't capture the moment. He might play some pick up footie later, although Uggs aren't the best footwear...

After a long day of taking perfectly posed pictures for his Holiday cards, BunBaz heads home and is ready for bed. He loves his striped and collared PJs (only the best for this bun!) and his Paddington keeps him company all night long.

In all seriousness, I had a blast making this bun for the lovely @bookish-bogwitch. (If you missed my earlier post about him, he speaks!) I made the witchy tee based on inspiration pics Em sent over. All other clothing and accessories are American Girl Doll cast-offs, either repurposed or tailored to fit.

In other doll factory news, Rainbow posted the SnowBaz worry dolls I gifted her at the Slow Dance signing (last slide). I know the real artists in this fandom get reblogged and reposted all the time, but this literally made me cry when I saw it! Especially because these little guys were the first set of dolls I ever made in early-May. It blows my mind how far I've come in just a few months.

I hope to keep getting better and tackling more complex projects in the months to come. This fall alone I will be keeping busy with a possible COTTA collaboration with the amazing @iamamythologicalcreature. The idea, if it pans out, is super cool! I also submitted a doll concept for CORB and am excited for whoever my fic partner happens to be!

On that fandom high note, I am bidding you all temporary farewell since I plan to disappear through mid-September at least. Students can smell weakness, so I'm going to devote my time to planning kick-ass lessons and breaking 15-year-old spirits. Please keep tagging me so that I remember I once had a life.

Until next we meet, hellos and high-fives from the doll factory. 💖

@thewholelemon, @emeryhall, @raenestee, @roomwithanopenfire, @cutestkilla

@artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @best--dress, @brilla-brilla-estrellita

@rimeswithpurple, @run-for-chamo-miles, @supercutedinosaurs, @whatevertheweather, @mooncello

@shrekgogurt, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold, @talentpiper11, @larkral

@beastmonstertitan, @drowninginships, @valeffelees, @noblecorgi, @rbkzz

@thehoneyedhufflepuff, @messofthejess, @orange-peony, @blackberrysummerblog, @letraspal

@facewithoutheart, @ic3-que3n, @skeedelvee, @fiend-for-culture, @hushed-chorus

@martsonmars, @katatsumuli, @comesitintheclover, @stitchyqueer, @alexalexinii

@erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @ileadacharmedlife, @theimpossibledemon

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 14: "Day Late Friend"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: I feel like it goes without saying that this one will probably hurt. There's like a tiny bit of comfort in here, but I think everything else vastly outweighs that. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks

Sitting on the countertop in your kitchen, you were hunched over your phone scrolling through this morning's current news articles. You were exhausted and your entire body ached from having spent last night at Karen’s place sleeping on her couch because your apartment was entirely empty now. 

Most of the furniture you’d had at your apartment had been donated because you did not want to deal with the hassle of moving all of it across the country. It’s not like you couldn’t afford new things with the massive pay increase you were getting with your new position, even if your new LA apartment’s rent was a bit more expensive than your Hell’s Kitchen apartment had been. Though you’d had movers pack up a handful of your items the other day, along with whatever you had packed in boxes that you hadn’t kept in the luggage bag you were going to check with you on the plane when you left. Your things that were being transported across the country via moving truck were supposed to be at your new place by this afternoon. 

Because today was the day. You had a very long flight to LA soon that you were about to catch–a little over a six hour flight to be exact. You’d ordered a car to take you to the airport just a few minutes ago and now all you were doing was waiting, trying to kill time while you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut. You were going to miss New York and the friends you had here–including Matt, even if you were still incredibly pissed at him. But you'd promised yourself repeatedly that you would make this move no matter what because you needed it.

Last night you’d spent the evening at Karen’s, though Foggy had come over for a bit while you’d been there. But you’d made it clear that you wanted neither of them to invite Matt, still not wanting to see him after what had happened at Josie’s. Foggy had tried to convince you otherwise a few times, urging you to tell Matt it was your last night here because he said Matt had been needing to talk with you. Foggy was practically begging you to give Matt a chance to say goodbye, but you just couldn’t do it. After hearing him just days ago talking about the idea of marrying Erica, and then being so cruel to you in return when you’d pointed out how little he’d thought it all out– especially after everything he’d put you through knowing you’d always been in love with him–you felt he didn’t deserve your time. Why put yourself through more heartache for his sake? You weren’t planning to see him ever again anyway. You figured it was time to look out for yourself.

The whole evening you figured Foggy was shooting Matt texts on and off with the way he’d been on his phone. You’d done your best to ignore it, though part of you felt bad for not offering Matt a chance to see you one last time. He’d probably wanted to apologize for his behavior at Josie’s the other night, but what did it matter? You always caved when it came to Matt; you knew you'd ultimately accept whatever apology he gave you. You loved him–sometimes without a care to yourself and your own feelings. 

And that had to change.

With a sigh you opened another news article, your eyes briefly flicking up towards the time on your phone. It felt like time was dragging on this morning. Your ride to the airport was still another fifteen minutes away and you internally cringed. Admittedly you were getting anxious sitting here with nothing to do but wait and sit in your thoughts. 

A series of frantic knocks came from your apartment door, the noise breaking through the silence in your apartment and drawing your attention from your phone. You frowned, turning and looking at your door all the way across the apartment from where you sat in the kitchen. Who would be stopping by your place right now? Unless it was your overly friendly neighbor next door, the elderly Mrs. Meyers. You’d already told her goodbye three times yesterday, but maybe she’d somehow forgotten again. 

Sliding off the counter, you slipped your phone into your jean pocket and made your way over. But the moment you heard Matt’s voice desperately calling your name from the other side of it, you immediately froze on the spot.

What the hell was Matt doing here?

A mix of emotions immediately flooded you–anger, sadness, heartache, guilt. But worst of all of them was that stupid little sliver of hope. You flinched when you heard him call your name through your door again.

"Please," he begged. "I know you're in there. Just let me talk to you. Please. Give me five minutes. Just–just five minutes, please ."

This wasn't exactly the way you wanted to leave New York. That familiar ache was in your chest again and the feel of it hurt . Arms crossing over your chest, you nervously hugged yourself tight as if that would somehow help keep that ache from spreading through the rest of you.

"Matt, I don't want–"

" Please ," he pleaded.

His voice had sounded so small and weak from behind the door, the sound of it causing your eyes to close. Your hands gripped the fabric of your shirt as you fought the urge to cry. Something you'd become all too familiar with when it came to Matt. 

"There's something you need to know," Matt tried again, his voice filled with emotion. "And I don't–don't want to say it to your door."

With a shuddering exhale, you opened your eyes and tried to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen. Crossing the rest of the way to the door, you gradually unlocked it before pulling it open. Matt stepped back instantly, as if he’d been pressed up against it waiting for you. You were surprised to see his glasses were hanging from the collar of his dark green tee-shirt. Matt always wore them around you lately, so it had been jarring to be immediately greeted with the open vulnerability on his face and in his eyes. 

"You have five minutes," you told him, stepping aside and waving him in. 

And really he did, because your car would be here in probably ten minutes.

Matt made his way inside, a pained look on his face as he stepped past you. You grit your teeth together as you shut the door behind him, turning and squaring your shoulders as you faced him. You didn’t know what to expect, but you had a strong feeling whatever it was he needed to tell you was going to leave you in tears.

Matt said your name again, that vulnerable look on his face. "I am so unbelievably sorry about the other night," he began in a rush, emotion heavy in his voice as he spoke. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, it was wrong. I was out of line. You had every reason to yell at me like that. I deserved it–I deserve worse . I had–had no idea how much you were hurting and how awful what I’d said really was. It was insensitive and stupid of me and I–"

He abruptly cut off, his brows drawing together in what looked like confusion. Your own face slowly contorted into a look of confusion itself at the words in his apology. How could he not know how much you'd been hurting? He knew you loved him, of course him saying those things had been hurtful, especially considering what he’d told you right before about Erica.

Matt's head snapped to the side and your eyes narrowed as you watched him, his curious movements interrupting your thoughts. You watched as his head darted around a few times, his eyes beginning to water as you saw them scanning your completely empty apartment. 

"No," he whispered, his watery gaze returning to you. "No, don't tell me your things are gone already? You've already packed?"

"I'm moving, Matt," you stated flatly, trying to ignore the way that look on his face was affecting you. "Of course my things are gone."

"When?" he pressed. "Saturday? Sunday?"

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat at the blatant look of panic quickly crossing his features. Why did he look so scared?

"In ten minutes," you answered, tone softening. "I have a car coming to bring me to the airport soon. My flight is at eleven."

Surprise briefly flickered across his face, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead as his lips parted. But then you watched as his face completely crumpled in on itself, tears streaming out of his eyes almost instantly. You stood there in stunned silence, unsure what to make of his reaction. You knew he would be upset about you leaving, but the only time you’d seen Matt cry like this before was when Elektra had broken his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “I thought I had more time. I’m sorry.”

With the sight of Matt standing there and crying before you, you couldn’t fight the tears that had begun to slowly burn in your own eyes. You wiped a hand at them, trying to erase them before they could fall. 

“Foggy said he told you I was leaving,” you pointed out. “You knew I was leaving, Matt. That I had taken a new position and was moving.”

He nodded solemnly, sniffling hard. “He did, but he never told me the day. Just told me I had to see you this morning. And now I–”

You watched in utter confusion as Matt’s sentence broke off right in the middle, his hands coming up as he rubbed the heels of them against his eyes. What sort of a goodbye apology was this? 

“I was wrong all this time,” Matt began, his hands still rubbing at his eyes as if that would make the tears stop. “It’s all my fault. I have spent the past few days going back and trying to make sense of it all– everything . For years. Just–just all of it. Every moment.”

Your brows drew further together on your forehead as you stared back at him. What the hell was he talking about? Why had he come barging over to your apartment spouting nonsense? Why was he so emotional?

“I thought it was Foggy,” he said firmly, his hands lowering from his face. His sightless eyes locked on you as he continued. “I always thought it was Foggy .”

“What?” you asked him. “What’re you talking about, Matt? You thought what was Foggy?”

“The friend you were in love with,” he replied earnestly. “The one you’d told me about a few times at Columbia. The one I knew you were hurting over, that you hadn’t ever gotten over in years . Who you’d cried about that night in the alley when I’d found you drunk and hurting. I always thought it was Foggy .” He winced, shaking his head as he whispered, “I never thought that it was–that it even could be me .”

His words hit you hard and you stood there in absolute shock–Matt thought you’d loved Foggy all of this time? Your mouth fell open as you gaped at him, your brain only wondering one thing.

“ How ?” you asked in confusion. “With what you can do, how did you think I was in love with Foggy?”

Tears were still falling down his cheeks as he took another step towards you, one hand reaching up to wipe them away as his eyes never left you. You still stood frozen on the spot, your arms even further tightening around your chest in response to everything he was telling you. Because what did that mean ? Why had he come here to tell you this? Why now?

“I–I misread so much,” he told you. “When I first ran into you in the library, I picked up on your physical attraction to me–all the telltale signs. And when you gave me your number and agreed to meet up, I thought it meant you liked me. But then that night you came over and Foggy was there–you both hit it off. I tried to give it some time, hoping I was wrong somehow, but it felt like your body was reacting to him . Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me.” Matt shot you a sad, watery smile. “I was still very new to understanding women and relationships, I’ll be honest. I was fresh out of a Catholic orphanage when I went to Columbia. Besides picking up on signs of obvious physical attraction, I’ll admit, I was clueless. And I–I clearly read you very wrong the whole time.”

“But–” you began, pausing to piece together everything yourself. “But Matt, how did you not know? I tried to flirt with you that night when I first came over to your apartment with Foggy and Karen for dinner. It was a terrible attempt but I thought it was pretty fucking obvious. I mean, for fuck’s sake, you heard me at Clinton Church for weeks crying over you. You , Matt, not Foggy. How did it never suddenly click ? How did you never realize you’d gotten it wrong?”

“Because Elektra had often put it into my head that you were always staring at Foggy like you were in love with him,” Matt answered vehemently. “And it’s not like I can see otherwise. I trusted her–and I realized far too late that I shouldn’t have, but I did. Her words about you being in love with him only further proved in my mind that it was true.” His tongue darted out nervously to wet his lips before he continued on in an emotional rush. “And that night you came over more than a year ago, I wasn’t sure if you were flirting with me or not. Something had seemed off with you that day. There was a–a part of me that hoped you were, but I couldn’t be sure. I tried to reach out to you, but you’d distanced yourself from me for weeks after. I figured I’d misunderstood the situation. And…by the time everything happened with Midland Circle, I’d thought you’d already admitted to me that night you found out about my secret that you loved Foggy all this time.” He shrugged weakly, his face further falling. “After that night, I never bothered to question it again.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest so hard you swore you could feel it. Each and every sharp and thundering pound of it. So Matt hadn’t known you’d loved him all this time. Which meant he’d found out when you’d yelled at him the other night at Josie’s. Eyes immediately going wide, you sucked in a breath.

“Holy shit, so you didn’t–” you paused, taking a mortified step back from him, “–you didn’t know? And I–I blurted it out the other night?”

The sad, watery smile was still on Matt’s face as he nodded slowly in response. Something like a strangled cry fell out of you as you spun on your heel, burying your face in your hands. Embarrassment burned through your entire being. Shrinking in on yourself, you wished the floor would just swallow you whole. 

“Why’re you coming here to tell me this?” you cried out, that sharp pain in your chest slamming right into you. “Fuck, this is so incredibly embarrassing , Matt. I thought you knew !”

“Sweetheart,” Matt said softly. 

You stiffened at the term of endearment. He’d called you that once before, that night you’d found out about his big secret. The sound of his footsteps grew nearer but you kept your face buried in your hands.

“I came here to tell you that I have wanted you for years,” he whispered, his voice sounding like it was coming from just behind you. “The first time I stumbled across you it wasn’t at the library–I stumbled on you almost two months before that. On campus. Someone had dropped all their books and papers on the sidewalk and you’d stopped to help them. And I–I don’t know what it was about you, but I couldn’t get your voice and your scent and your kind words out of my head.”

Matt’s hand landed on your shoulder, the touch incredibly light and barely there. It felt like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. As he continued on, your heart only further beat wildly against your ribcage at his words.

“I spent weeks trying to run into you again,” Matt confessed. “Trying to just find you again–any trace of you at all. I couldn’t let you go. That day I met you in the library felt like sheer luck. I had been so stunned myself that you’d appeared to me finally that I’d accidentally ran into you.”

Your hands slowly lowered from your face, your head gradually turning over your shoulder to look at Matt just behind you. That sad smile crossed his lips again when he realized you were looking at him, tears still glistening in his eyes.

“What’s that mean, Matt?” you whispered.

“It means I’ve always wanted you,” he replied just as softly. “You’re the only one I’ve always wanted.”

Goosebumps rose along your arms at his admission. How long had you desperately hoped for him to say those words to you? How many times had you pictured this moment in your head? Wondered what it would feel like for him to want you back? 

“What about Elektra?” you whispered. “And Erica? You were just telling me you wanted to marry her, Matt. How the hell do you say that and then come here and tell me this?”

“I fell hard for Elektra in college,” Matt admitted. “I thought maybe I loved her. She was the only one who knew about that other side of me. What I could do. I thought she–she got me. Understood me. But my feelings for you had never gone away, and I thought maybe I could try to make them disappear with her. But it turned out she didn’t understand me at all, and clearly she saw how much you meant to me because she fed me lies about you loving Foggy.”

“What about the second time you were with her?” you asked, cringing at the question.

Matt immediately shook his head, his sightless eyes still focused along your face. His hand gripped your shoulder a little firmer.

“I was never with her when she came back,” he assured you. “ Never .”

“And Erica?” you pressed.

Your back was still turned towards him as he spoke, but you saw the frown settle onto his face. It felt like your heart was in your throat as you waited for him to explain.

“You had been with Adam for awhile,” he began, hurt clear in his tone. “So I thought maybe you’d finally gotten over Foggy, because you seemed happy with him. And as much as it broke my heart seeing you with Adam, I was truly happy for you. He was a nice guy. He treated you well. And as much as I wished it could’ve been me in his place, I was glad that you weren’t hurting anymore–or at least, I thought you weren’t.” He sighed, his eyes dropping down to the floor as he released your shoulder, his hand running across his forehead instead. “But I knew I’d never have you and I was lonely. That’s when Marci introduced me to Erica and we–we got along. Eventually I developed feelings for her–nothing that even remotely compared to how I feel about you, but I figured I’d never find that again. And things were…admittedly convenient ,” he said with a shameful grimace. “She was often working so she had no clue about me being out most nights as Daredevil. Which meant for once, Daredevil wasn’t an issue in my love life.”

“But Matt–”

“Look, I know it was stupid to think I could continue in a relationship like that, but I was hopeful,” he confessed. “I was lonely and I was hopeful that I’d have time to make things work with a long engagement. And as much as I–I wanted you , I was positive I’d never have you. And what I had with Erica seemed like it–it wouldn’t be so bad as an alternative. So I’d been thinking about proposing and that was why I was hoping to talk to you and Fog.” He shrugged a shoulder lightly, a deep frown on his face. “I was hoping both of you would help me look at things realistically, because you’re both my best friends. You know me.”

Your eyes narrowed at Matt as you finally turned partially towards him. “Then why did you get angry at me when I told you how ridiculous it all sounded?” you asked. 

“Because I could feel your anger,” he whispered. “And I didn’t understand it. I got defensive because it–it hurt hearing you say those things to me. Because I have–have loved you for so long and you were the one I wanted and couldn’t have. But I shouldn't have said those things to you in anger and I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I was hurt and I was stupid and I reacted without thinking.” His lips pressed together, the tears that had been glistening in his eyes quickly spilling forth. “I’m sorry I’ve hurt you so much over the years.”

You were struck speechless, still stuck on the part where he’d admitted to loving you. Matt was in love with you?

“I ended things with her, too,” he continued, the tears still falling. “The first chance I got after that night. Because I want you.”

Almost as if in slow motion you watched as Matt’s hand reached up, very carefully reaching out to gently cradle your cheek in the palm of his hand. You could feel your entire body trembling at the affectionate touch–it was so far from friendly. It reminded you of the night you’d been with him after graduation when he’d touched you so similarly. You understood now what had almost happened that night, and the fact that nothing had only added to the heartache. Because you were quickly realizing that you both had come close to admitting the truth so many times before only to end up here–with years wasted and hearts hurting.

“I want you,” he breathed out, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek. His eyes were slowly scanning your face, as if somehow committing you to memory in his own way as his lips pulled into that sad smile again. "I've only ever wanted you, sweetheart."

A sob fell out of you as you turned fully towards him, your arms immediately wrapping around his waist and drawing yourself into him without a thought. Matt was quick to encircle his own arms around your shoulders, holding you tightly to the front of himself as you felt him burying his face into your hair. Your fingers clawed at his back through the thin fabric of his tee-shirt, desperately holding onto him as you cried. From the pocket of your jeans, you heard your phone alert you to a notification you'd received. No doubt it was the car you’d ordered finally arriving, ready to bring you to the airport. That thought only had you clinging tighter to Matt as you sobbed against his chest.

“Why did you wait so long?” you cried out, face buried into his chest. “Why now, Matt? Why did you have to tell me all of this when I'm leaving?”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, voice breaking on the apology. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes snapped shut tight, tears soaking the front of his shirt. Your nails were digging into Matt’s back, clawing at him with how hopelessly you tried to hang on to him. 

“I–I want to ask you to stay,” he whispered, his face still buried into your hair where his tears were dampening the strands. “I want to beg you to. Tell you I would do anything to keep you here–because I would. Happily. Ten times over. But I know I have no right to ask that of you, sweetheart.”

"You're right," you breathed out, your body molding itself to the front of him. "You don't."

You hated that you'd found out Matt had loved you all of this time at this exact moment instead of weeks ago–months or even years ago when things could have gone differently. Because you had already accepted that job and you'd already gotten that apartment. You'd repeatedly told yourself you were leaving and doing this for yourself no matter what. And Matt coming here telling you all of this right now, as much as it made you want him even more because you now knew your feelings were returned, didn't change the fact that he had just ended a relationship with a woman he had considered proposing to only days ago. That he'd let you go on believing he was dead for months not that long ago–and that hadn't stopped hurting even if you'd forgiven him for it. And it certainly didn't change the fact that you had cried over him for years.

You'd needed a change. You needed time away. You needed space to figure things out for yourself without the constant heartache.

"Matt, I–" your eyes tightened further closed, tears still coming as your fingers desperately gripped his back, "–I have to do this. I have to move to LA. For me.” Your face remained pressed to his firm chest as you spoke, pausing just long enough to breathe in that familiar clean scent of him. You hoped you’d never truly forget it. “You just ended things with Erica days ago,” you continued quietly. “This–this isn't how I would want to start things with you. It's not right."

You heard him inhale a shuddering breath, his mouth beside your ear as he did. His hands slid down to wrap firmly around your back, his palms pressing you securely to himself. You could feel his own fingers digging into you through your shirt, his own desperate need to keep you close only making your tears fall faster. In that moment, you knew he’d been hurting just as much as you always had been. Somehow you could feel it in the tears of his that fell, mingling with yours along your skin, and the sharp, ragged breaths he was clearly trying to control. 

"I know," he whispered, voice strained. “You deserve better.”

Reluctantly you slowly pulled away from him, your heart twisting in your chest at the absolute broken state of Matt before you. With a loud sniffle, you pulled your phone from your pocket and saw that you did have a notification for the car you’d called. You responded to it, pressing your trembling lips firmly together as you tried to compose yourself. You needed to leave or you’d miss your flight.

“The car is here to take me to the airport,” you whispered, slipping your phone back into your pocket before glancing up at Matt. “I–I have to go, Matty.”

Matt nodded, his hands roughly wiping at his eyes. “Can I walk you out?” he asked. “Please?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I just need to grab my bag.”

Walking past Matt, you made your way towards your kitchen to the lone piece of luggage that was sitting right where you’d left it. You slid the handle of it out before turning and shuffling your way across the room and back over to Matt. He was clearly trying to take the moment to compose himself, but he didn’t seem very successful with the way his tears were still falling. When you neared him, he timidly held out a hand towards you and you paused, staring at it as your heart unsteadily beat in your chest. A second later you hesitantly reached out, slipping your hand into his. Matt’s face momentarily lit up as he tried to smile at you, his large hand reassuringly squeezing yours.

You sent him a small smile in return before you guided the pair of you out of your apartment, leaving it for the last time. The sound of the door closing behind you both was louder and harsher than usual as you led Matt down the hall and towards the elevators. Neither of you said anything as you waited for it to reach your floor, and neither of you said anything as you both stepped inside. Though as the elevator doors slid closed, Matt’s fingers entwined with yours, as if he was finding any way he could to hold onto you just a bit tighter for just a bit longer. Somehow that hurt, too.

Gradually the elevator lowered until it reached the lobby and you stepped out, your stomach roiling with nerves at the final goodbye that you could feel fast approaching. In silence you led him over towards the car that was waiting for you, politely greeting the driver who took your bag from you and stowed it in the trunk of the car. As they were getting back into the driver’s side, you finally turned and focused on Matt, your hand still enjoined with his.

The sight of him alone had your heart breaking–he still looked just as broken as that day you’d found him crying over Elektra. Except now it was because of you . Instantly the tears began streaming down your face and briefly you wondered how the hell you had a single tear left to shed after all of this time. Matt tried his best to smile at you, his other hand reaching up to wipe away your tears as they continued to fall. 

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart,” Matt said gently, the calloused pad of his thumb still wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’m sorry for leaving you, Matty. For hurting you.”

Matt shook his head, that sad smile still lingering along his lips. “Don’t apologize,” he whispered. “If this is what you need, if it’ll make you happy, then I–I support you. Even if it hurts. All I want is to know you’re happy.” His thumb slid down, lightly brushing beside the corner of your lips as his sad eyes focused there. “But I’m–I’m sorry my timing with telling you how I felt was so terrible. I should have told you on graduation night like I planned to. Maybe we wouldn’t be here now.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you whispered. 

Matt grimaced briefly, the corner of his mouth turning downward. “Your driver sounds irritated. I should probably uh, let you go,” he said, the last word coming out a little choked.

Stepping towards Matt, you once again wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face against the damp spot your tears had created on his tee-shirt. His own arms immediately held you to him again, his face now burying into the side of your neck. The pair of you stayed like that for a long moment, neither of you clearly wanting to let go. Your eyes closed and you relaxed into him, breathing in the scent of him. If you pushed aside what was happening right now, you could feel whatever it was you’d always felt when you hugged Matt washing over you. That warm, comforting feeling you’d told Foggy about before. The feeling you always experienced when you hugged Matt. You knew what it was now.

He felt like home.

Fresh tears welled in your eyes as Matt slowly pulled away from you, your arms once again coming to wrap tight around your chest as if that alone would keep you from shattering to pieces on the sidewalk. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you admitted weakly.

He reached a hand out, tucking some hair behind your ear as his watery gaze focused along your chin.

“Then don’t,” he replied softly. “I’ll see you again another time, sweetheart.”

His fingers lingered along your cheek, once again lightly wiping away the tears that were falling. Your heart clenched in your chest when you finally found the nerve to speak.

“I’ll miss you, Matty,” you confessed. 

“I’ll miss you, too,” he whispered, his hand falling from your face.

You stood there for a few seconds longer, trying to commit the memory of Matt to your mind. You didn’t want to forget him. Truthfully you didn’t want to leave him. Though eventually you finally turned and opened the car door, slipping into the backseat. You pulled the door shut after yourself, confirming with the driver that you were heading to the airport as you put your seatbelt on. Your attention shifted back to Matt out of the window to where he was standing on the sidewalk. His glasses were back on his face as he began unfolding the cane he’d had folded up in his back pocket. 

When the car finally pulled out into traffic, your eyes remained on Matt through the back window. His face was turned towards you as the car drove away, and you swore you saw his lips moving as if he’d said something, though you couldn’t make out what. You tried to remind yourself internally why you were doing this as the sight of Matt standing on the edge of the sidewalk slowly became harder and harder to see. But when he finally was entirely out of your view, you felt something sharp hit you right in the chest. Raising a hand up, you absently rubbed at the spot just over your heart, eyes still focused out of the back window as tears filled them yet again.

[END NOTES]

End notes again, because I feel like y'all need them. Again.

Matt finally confessed!! He explained quite a bit to Reader but inevitably, she left to LA. I mean, she'd already accepted the job and had no place to stay in Hell's Kitchen for starters, but also, she did really need to take a step away from Matt and try to live her life. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to Reader to try to jump into a relationship with Matt literally days after he'd been having a discussion about possibly proposing to someone else. So Reader is leaving anyway. And there was NO KISS because honestly, I feel like kissing in that moment would just hurt both of them even more. So you're still going to be waiting on that. But I will say the beginnings of comfort will probably start after the next installment for those of you literally hanging by a thread reading this. But there will be a happy ending to this fic so things will slowly begin to turn around soon!

But now for real, I need to focus on my other fics this week. Preferably things that are less angsty like FFTD.

[argyre169]

Ray's Birthday !

To mark Ray's birthday, I'm excited to share a batch of drawings and little situation I've created just for the occasion ! I hope you'll enjoy them. As I get back into digital drawing, I'm still working on perfecting proportions, but I'm giving it my best shot. Keep an eye out for the big reveal

TW : their is SFW and NSFW drawing, both post will be cut out in two, the SFW which will be posted here and the NSFW one who will not be published on Tumblr for community rules purposes but if you are willing to see it i will gladly take recommandations of where i can post it . Be aware that Binary Star VN is an adult onely game. I am responsible for what I create but not for what you watch so if you'r not ready to see such things please skip this post

Thanks again for this beautiful game @concreteparasite

and Thanks to @shoyastars for their implication in the BSH community, you actually motivated me to do thoses post ;)

Thanks again for all of your likes on the previous post your support means a lot!

PS: The name of my OC is Roxanne. If you'd like more information or want to see more posts like this, don't hesitate to leave a comment ;)

Roxanne : age: 22 height : 1m75/5.8

Ray saving Roxanne from Double : ( SFW version so no potential Triggers you can see the other versions on the second post )

" As Ray held Roxanne in his arms, her delicate form nestled against his chest, a storm raged within him. The scent of her fear mingled with the metallic tang of blood as a reminder of the violence he had unleashed to rescue her from the clutches of Double. His jaw clenched with a suppressed rage as he surveyed the aftermath of his wrath. The lifeless bodies of Double's sidekicks strewn across the ground like discarded puppets. He knew he had acted out of necessity, but the weight of his actions pressed heavily upon him, a burden he bore in silence as always. Yet amidst the chaos and destruction, one thought consumed his mind : Roxanne's safety. She was his to protect, his to cherish, his to love. No one, not even a wretched fiend like Double, would dare lay a finger on her ever again. He could not allow anyone to threaten what was his, to encroach upon his territory. His grip tightened ever so slightly around Roxanne, a silent vow to shield her from harm at any cost. But beneath the facade of stoic resolve, a flicker of exhaustion danced in his eyes. The weight of his responsibilities bore down upon him, the never-ending battle against vilains and aliens taking its toll on his weary soul. Yet, in the midst of his fatigue, a spark of determination burned bright within him. For he was not just a mere man, but the most powerful superhero in the universe. He would stop at nothing to ensure Roxanne's safety, to protect her from the darkness that lurked in the shadows. With a silent nod to his inner demons, Ray gathered Roxanne into his arms and vanished into the night. For she was not just his love, but his everything. And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing his own soul in the process."

She said yes ! In this timeline, she is now 25, and he proposed to her 2 days ago. She is overjoyed about it.

In the wake of Ray's proposal just two days prior, Roxanne found herself enveloped in a euphoric haze of happiness and excitement using every excuses to show her engagement ring . The weight of the ring on her finger served as a constant reminder of their shared future, a future filled with endless possibilities and boundless love. Every glance at the sparkling gold sent a flutter of joy through her heart, a tangible symbol of their commitment to each other. She couldn't help but steal glances at her hand throughout the day, marveling at the way the light danced off the delicate band. As she went about her daily routine, her thoughts invariably drifted back to Ray and the tender moment when he had asked her to be his forever. The memory filled her with warmth and affection a sense of belonging that she had never known before. With each passing moment, she found herself falling deeper in love with Ray, grateful for the unwavering support and devotion he had shown her even if the begining of their relation was tumultuous. She knew that their love was a rare and precious gift, one that she would cherish for eternity. And as she gazed into the future with him by her side, she couldn't help but feel a sense of profound gratitude for the man who had captured her heart so completely. For in his arms, she had found her home, her refuge, her everything. And she knew that together, they could conquer any obstacle that lay in their path, guided by the unbreakable bond of their love.

" loved, and being loved. Being loved, and loved. "

[allied-mastercunt]

I love ur Yandere Ellen idea, please give me more, I’m literally on my knees 😭🙏

Yandere Ellen headcanons

Ellen is suffering so much more than the others. She's lonely, she's scared, she's clinging to her humanity, the only thing she has left.

She's doing so much for the others, and yet, they still treat her like shit (ekhem Ted ekhem).

The only ones treating her decently are you and Benny. And Benny... well, we all know how his mind is. He's barely even human at this point, it was more like a fondness an animal felt to a human who would feed and pet it.

But you, you were right in your mind! And you were kind to her! And oh, so sweet...

With how her life now was, nobody could blame her she started obsessing over you.

You were so nice to her, you protected her, you actually cared about her...

That means you love her, right? Right? You have to love her!

So she starts clinging to you. She tries to hang out with you as much as possible, holding onto your hand tightly whenever she can.

Whenever you rest, she's right next to you, clinging to you.

She knows she's powerless compared to the others, so she can't use physical strength against them.

Instead, she does her best to convince you to ignore them. To only keep your eyes on her. To only speak to her.

She'll pull you to the side as often as she can. She'll talk your ear off.

About how terrible the others are.

About how you're so different than them, you're so kind, so sweet to her.

About how much she loves you, how you're the only one keeping her sane, how she wouldn't want to live without you...

You become her anchor. Her therapist. Anything she can have you as, really.

She puts all her mental and emotional burdens on you. And as exhausting as it is, with how much she clings to you, you can't really let go.

And you know how terrible she has it. How she lets others use her, disregarding her own comfort. You can't take away the one thing that helps her cope!

Besides, shouldn't you hate the others? You should, for all they're putting her through. They're terrible, they're monsters, they're fiends!

(She uses that argument especially often with a female darling, "indirectly" making you feel guilty that she sacrifices herself so that you don't have to go through it all.)

She ends up making you hate the others eventually, especially since AM finds the whole thing amusing as hell, so he amps it all up, just to see how much sweet Ellen is willing to take.

Yes, AM gets off the toxicity here. Fucking cuck.

[chaoticstrata]

WIP Wednesday

So this is my Lucanis x Crow!Rook fic that I had started, but I decided to go in a different direction for the start of it. The WIP from last week is still around, but it will be used at a later date (revamped a bit, too). Spoilers for past Act I and for one of Lucanis' convos (I think one you get if you flirt with him a bit?)

The nutty aroma of the coffee waffed from the two steaming hot cups of the brew up to Rook’s nose as he made his way to the door of the wisp infested building. He breathed it in deep before letting out a long, tired sigh. The day had been long and stressful, and he felt exhausted…and still a little heartbroken. What he needed, besides a cup of coffee, was someone to talk to and Neve was the best for that. Well, as long as she was in the mood, anyways, which is why he had the second cup. Although, considering what he wanted to talk about included juicy details about himself and the other resident assassin, he might not need the extra bribery for her ear.

Carefully holding both cups by the handle in one hand, he knocked on Neve’s door.

“It’s open.”

Pushing his way inside, he put on a crooked grin for her.

“Neve.”

“Rook,” the detective glanced up at him from taking notes--pen never stopping its flow of ink to paper. When her eyes fell on the two cups, a dark brow rose. “Need something?”

The elf grinned wider as he set down one of the cups before taking a step back and nursing the other.

“A sympathetic ear to listen to my woes,” the Crow replied, sipping the hot beverage.

Neve looked mildly annoyed, eyeing the coffee again before going focusing back on her notes.

“I’m sure Bel-”

“Lucanis and I almost kissed the other night,” the elven mage interrupted, smirking behind his cup when Neve set down her pen, carefully closed her notebook, and picked up the cup of coffee.

“Go on,” she said, practically grinning like a fiend. 

“Knew that would peak your interest,” Rook snickered.

“Of course it would. Do you know how much gold I have riding on you two?” she asked with a small, airy laugh.

Rook rolled his eyes, although the grin never left his lips. “Why am I not surprised you all have a bet going on if we get together?”

“When,” Neve corrected him.

He blinked a few times at that. “Pardon?”

“When you two get together, not if,” his fellow mage smirked as she explained, “No one wanted to take the odds against you two. It appears we all know a good thing when we see it--even if some have a few reservations about it.”

Rook could already feel his ears turning red as he glanced away with a small, sad smile.

“Well, at least someone has confidence in this disaster of a courtship,” he laughed.

“You don’t?”

“I do…it’s just a…shaky confidence,” he admitted, shrugging as he took a seat on Neve’s bed. “The other night isn’t helping it either.”

“Right, you said ‘almost kissed’, not that you did kiss,” Neve hummed, leaning back in her chair, arms folded. She looked at him with the same analytical look she would give a piece of evidence. “Did someone ruin it by interrupting you?”

“I wish,” Rook snorted. He looked down into his cup and frowned. “Lucanis pulled away.”

“He…what?” she asked in shock. “Why?”

“I’d really like to know the answer to that question myself,” the Crow sighed, taking another sip of his coffee.

Neve pressed her lips together and frowned, tapping her finger against her arm as she got that analytical look in her eyes. “Hmmm…”

“Neve, you don’t have to try and solve this like a case,” Rook told her with a soft laugh.

“Isn’t that why you came to me?” she asked, amused.

“No, I came to vent,” the elf replied, leaning back until his shoulder blades hit the wall.

“You could have gone to Bel or Lace or anyone else, beside Lucanis, for that,” the other mage pointed out.

“True, but anyone else would have blabbed to the rest.”

“And you think I wont?” Neve asked, raising a brow.

“You haven’t with the more sensitive stuff our friends have told you while we’re out and about,” Rook stated. He tipped his head slightly, dark brunette locks falling across his face as he looked her up and down. “Unless I’m mistaken.”

She looked down at her desk and smiled before looking up at him with a crooked smirk.

“You make a fair point,” she conceded.

“But you’re still going to work this like a case for you to solve,” Rook sighed before chuckling.

“Of course, you know I can’t pass up a good mystery.”

“Yeah, I know,” he shook his head and laughed.

“So,” she started, picking up her coffee again, “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Rook sat up a little and took a long swig of his drink before starting his recounting of the other evening.

“I had gone to the dinner hall to make myself some tea,” he paused, laughing at the look Neve gave him for that. “Yes, I drink tea as well, even if coffee is my usual vice. Plus, coffee isn’t exactly great for helping one get to sleep.”

“Fair,” Neve chuckled.

“As I said, I was making myself some tea. When I got there, I heard a small commotion from the pantry,” he continued, rolling his half empty cup between his hands. “I went to investigate, concerned it could be Spite up to something. I was part right, but Taash was there, preventing him from leaving. Heh, they told him no and to sit his ass down.”

“Taash is the best at handling Spite when he’s in control,” Neve admitted.

“Yup.” Rook chuckled and took another sip. “I told them that I'd handle Spite from there and asked them to watch the eluvian just in case. Once they left, I talked to Spite.”

“I can’t imagine that went well,” the Tevinter mage commented.

“It was…not what I was expecting out of that conversation,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

“Spite wanted me to convince Lucanis to keep his end of their deal,” Rook explained, looking down into his cup with a furrowed brow. “‘Break their chains, kill, escape their prison, and live.’”

When he looked up, he saw Neve looked like how he felt by that statement, befuddled.

“Didn’t they, though?” she asked with a small frown.

“That’s what I said, but Spite was insistent they hadn’t, and he wanted out,” Rook said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “There was some more back and forth before Lucanis finally woke up.”

[dvilsdesire]

I know people seem to think Haarlep isn't fond of Raphael, but there's nothing that really dictates that as truth

he did ask the player "why would you call this horrible man your master" if you took the deal

Random asks || always accepting

// (just so people are aware, the quote at the top is from an old post I wrote that the anon is responding to)

I literally just went back in game, took Raphael's deal, and went right to the House of Hope... After exhausting all possible dialogue options, I'm assuming you're referring to this quote:

(that is a legitimate screencap with an in game text error in it)

Nowhere in this does Haarlep call Raphael a horrible man.

I can see where you might be coming from, with how Haarlep uses the term "deserve", but something you need to understand about Haarlep's interaction and character is that everything the incubus is, is devious, mischievous and... self involved. When comparing Haarlep to someone like Raphael, who is obviously extremely Lawful Evil, Haarlep comes off as playful in his tone, jovial in nature, and obviously EXTREMELY manipulative. This is the creature that if you don't agree to have sex with them, outright attacks you. He doesn't give two shits about Tav and Co, he's literally willing to end them then and there if you don't agree to share Raphael's bed with them.

If anything, Haarlep appears to be more chaotic aligned than lawful, or even neutral aligned (depending on DnD lore and which edition, incubi and succubus could be seen as demons, devils or fiends--which means their moral alignment could be either Lawful Evil, Neutral Evil, or Chaotic evil). Haarlep, to me, feels less Lawful and more Neutral or Chaotic. Either way, he is still self involved and wants to manipulate any situation to his own (as most fiends do).

I think it's also important to note that everything in the Hells is not what it always appears to be. This is a world where torment and pain is pleasure, where the Archivist as well as Nubaldin both say about how much pain and torment is within the House and yet you'll have the best time of your life there in the boudoir, despite your limbs being mangled. Hope and Korrilla even make mentions on how everyone in the HoH is mad. It's almost like an Alice in Wonderland, going down the rabbit hole tale, where everything is twisted and contorted.

Nothing is quite as it seems, and Haarlep likely PLAYS on that, because of course he does, he's a fiend, and one that seems far more mischievous than Raphael. Note how Haarlep even says this line, claiming to be a far crueller master than Raphael:

When you go in and tell Haarlep that you're going to break your contract, he even responds with:

Pretty unlawful for a devil imo. Compare that to Raphael, especially if your Tav is a Paladin that's broken their oath? He's not going to deal with an oathbreaker, it's despicable.

Please note that I am not saying Haarlep is FOND of Raphael either. You literally get a 10 minute interaction with Tav and Haarlep where the incubus is attempting to take your soul and/or body as their own, and ZERO interaction between Raphael and Haarlep (which is honestly a fucking crime imo, but likely would have undermined Raphael's character and made him appear weaker since Haarlep is happy to insult him at any given chance).

A small note on making fun of Raphael as well... People do it. It's a part of relationships. I'm not saying it's healthy, and I'm not saying it's moral, but once again... this is the HELLS. Does anyone expect devils to sit there and dote on one another like a loving, caring couple? I don't. But do you know what I do see every day in real life when I interact with people? Old married couples who literally rag on each other in public, harass each other behind their backs, and tease each other at literally any given chance.

When you have been living with someone for an extended period of time, these relationships grow and change, for better or for worse.

Everything that you and me, and every other person in fandom says is pure speculation. And there is no right and wrong, because we are all going off tiny bits of evidence that can be skewed and nothing is finite. We don't know because we simply don't have enough information. A ten minute interaction is not enough information to prove ANYTHING in a game that doesn't delve deeper into what the relationship was between Haarlep and Raphael outside of a few notes and comments.

If you want to believe that Haarlep hates Raphael's guts, then who the fuck is stopping you? I'm not. I will continue to love Raphlep because, guess what? It makes me HAPPY. That's the only damn reason I need or care about ✌️

[wellthebardsdead]

Solairen: *picked apart every thread of Raphael’s carefully put together facade and unraveled his plan piece by piece with the crushing truth of reality until he’s left literally backed into a corner by the paladins hulking frame* If your father, with all the powers of a Demi god, still had the foresight to not use the crown. What hope do you have of succeeding with less than a fraction of that power?

Raphael: *gritting his teeth as he glares up at him, trying so hard to keep his composure* That idiot doesn’t have the sense to see that far in the future! You don’t know anything you petulant rat!

Solairen: I’m the petulant one am I? I’m not the one about to cry. *smiles lifting his chin to look at him properly as his thumb rests on his lips* You’re so desperate to prove yourself, but for who? You even make yourself appear more mature just to be taken seriously. You’ll never be satisfied seeking approval from others when you loathe yourself as you do.

Raphael: *composure cracking as he leans into his touch, a sincere and comforting warmth Haarlep is simply incapable of providing him* I d-do not loathe myself and I need the approval of no one-

Solairen: then drop the illusion… let me see you.

Raphael: *visibly pouts as he does as he’s told. His appearance changing from that of a middle aged man to that of one in his early 20s, young, doe eyed, almost angelic even. And visibly bristling as he awaits his response, ready to bite back at the first sign of mockery*

Solairen: Pretty… *smile softening as his eyes take in every feature* I’m sorry nobody respects you as you are… it must be exhausting having to hide away behind a mask…

Raphael: *feeling an unfamiliar warmth join the infernal heat in his chest, one his mortal half desperately longs for that his devil half denied for so long* I… *huffs looking away as his face begins to flush* what, do you want then… if my plan is so delusional, why are you still here?

Solairen: because I do need the hammer… but I can’t give you the crown in return… and I also don’t want to see your pretty face snuffed out by your fathers hand… So, what do you want Raphael?… Not what do you want to prove yourself, not to show off, not to gain the approval of others… what, do you, want?… *turns his head back to look at him*

Raphael: *leans into his touch as his mask finally breaks. He’d never really gotten a choice in anything in his life. His purpose was decided long before he was ever born. To be a servant and tool for his father. Heir by name to a throne he’d never inherit. Just one of many he’d sire, and one he’d easily dispose of if given reason to. He’d spent his whole life denying his mortal needs to prove himself as a true devil, clawing at any scrap of approval thrown his way, he’d worked so hard and for what?… to deny part of his very being in favour of a fiend* the hammer is yours if… you, if you-…

Solairen: use your words, Raphael… I like hearing you talk.

Raphael: *face visibly going bright red as his cambion form appears briefly before changing back, his hands quickly coming up to cover his startled expression* i-I want you damn it!!! Damn you! *shoves the hammer to him as it appears, still covering his face with one hand*

Solairen: *chuckles and takes the hammer from him, setting it aside as he takes his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it* You’ll have to be alright sharing me with Astarion then.

Raphael: *shivers at the kiss, tail popping out along with his horns before he swats them both away and looks at him, making the mistake of locking eyes with the towering drow* w-will he- be okay with that?…

Solairen: Oh yes… *pulls him in close and lifts him up with ease* so, we have a deal then?

Raphael: *swallows hard and nods* c-can you just… hold me?… and keep saying nice things about me?

Solairen: gladly~

*2 hours later*

Solairen: *walks out holding the hammer* I got him.

Calliope: the hammers a boy? owo

Solairen: The Hammer? No Raph- I- oh. Uh.

Astarion: *facepalms*

*meanwhile*

Haarlep: *lounging on the bed. Smoking the hookah pipe as he watches the door sensing his masters return*

Raphael: *crawls in, literally*

Haarlep: I- master??

Raphael: *faceplants on the floor* Ugh-

[sanguineterrain]

may i pls request 12 + 63 for robin 🥺

i honestly do not remember what prompt list this was from YIKES but hi nika thank u for sending a robin req, ur a real one <3

12) “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.” and 63) “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

robin buckley x fem!reader. love confessions and kisses :-) ft. wingman steve (king)

****

One thing about snow in Hawkins is it never falls halfway.

Your parents are away for the weekend and don't know about the two feet of snow that hit last night. You've been content ignoring said snow and staying curled up in the house. You study, watch movies, and make hot chocolate. A whole pot of it, in fact. Snow days are great when you don't have to dig out the car.

You hear a scraping sound outside, like plastic on pavement. You turn off the stove and open the curtain.

It's Robin. She climbs the hill your neighborhood sits upon. She drags a large, green shovel behind her.

She's also nowhere near appropriately dressed for a Hawkins winter. Clad in only a windbreaker and a hat, you know Robin has to be freezing.

You pull on your heavy duty winter coat and scarf and head outside.

"Robin!" you call and start to unravel your scarf.

She looks up. You wonder how she walked all the way here from her house.

"Oh!" She pushes a couple strands of hair out of her face as you approach, cheeks flushed with cold. "H-hey, Y/N."

You stop in front of her, arms crossed.

"What are you wearing?"

She looks down, then at you.

"A... sweater?"

"Exactly! A sweater. It's below freezing. Here, take my jacket. Or my coat. Which do you want? I'll give you my coat first. Should fit you—it's loose on me."

You shrug out of your coat and manhandle her arms through the sleeves. Then you take off your scarf. Robin catches your arm, eyes wide.

"Y/N, it's really okay. I've been shoveling all day, I barely feel the cold anymore."

"Well, that's not a good sign, Robs. Let me put the scarf, come on."

She obediently bows her head so you can wrap the scarf around her neck. Plumes of foggy breath mingle in the air between you. Robin's eyes are a little half-lidded when you're done.

"Thanks," she whispers.

You beam. "You're welcome. Come have some hot chocolate."

"Are you sure? I–I mean, I don't wanna interrupt anything. You're probably having dinner, right?"

You shake your head.

"It's still early. My parents are out for the weekend. You're not interrupting anything. And God, all that shoveling? You must be exhausted."

You take her bare hand in your gloved one and frown.

"Remind me to get you some gloves," you say, and lead her inside.

Robin lets you pull her in. You nudge her into a chair at the kitchen table.

"So," you say. "Marshmallows? Whipped cream?"

"Oh. Um, yes, please. Thank you."

You pour two cups and swirl whipped cream in both. Then you decorate with too many mini marshmallows. You serve the dessert drinks. Robin immediately goes for hers and cream smears on her nose and lips.

She sticks her tongue out and crosses her eyes.

"Do I have something on my face?"

You grin and get a paper towel. Robin stares at you, lips slightly parted as you carefully wipe her face. You fold and toss the paper towel. Robin swallows.

"Th-thanks," she says.

"Sure thing," you reply, feeling a little warm. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm okay. Your coat is really warm."

"Isn't it? I got it on sale at Sears. I could get you one too if you'd like. I'm a fiend for bargains."

Robin snorts.

"What!" you say. "I am!"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just really nice."

"Robin Buckley, you smooth talker. I do believe Steve is rubbing off on you."

She rolls her eyes. "God, I hope not. We were supposed to shovel together and then three streets before your neighborhood, he said he had to go home. I didn't take the ride; I've been making good money."

"But your fingers are like Otter Pops," you fret, taking her hands in yours.

Robin's cheeks are red again. You stand to feel her forehead.

"You're all flushed, Robs. Do you feel sick? I can make some tea. I also have a box of Hothands."

"N-no," she squeaks, blinking up at you. "I'm okay, really."

"Well, we can call Steve, if you like. I'm sure he'd be willing to pick you up—"

"No!"

Your brows raise. Robin shifts in her seat.

"Um, what I mean is, he's probably busy, you know? Like super busy. He had to drop everything and go so, like, it's not a big deal."

"It's not a big deal that he ditched you?" you ask. "But you guys are best friends. Why would he do that? And right before you had to climb the hill to my house?"

Robin twists her ring around her pointer finger.

"Yeah, weird. But you know, Steve has his whims. He's a... whimsical guy."

You squint. "Did he say why he ditched?"

"Uh, no, no. But like I said, it doesn't really matter."

"Well, you can stay as long as you want. I'd drive you myself but my parents have the car."

"That's okay." Robin smiles. "I like drinking hot chocolate with you."

"I have cookies! Oh my gosh, let me get those out. You'll love these. I made them yesterday."

You flit about the kitchen, getting out plates and the tin of sugar cookies. Robin takes off your and her winterwear, draping them over the chair. Then she unzips her windbreaker, revealing a smart red sweater with snowflakes printed on it and a lace collar.

"That's pretty," you say and take the plates of cookies over.

"Oh, this?" She pushes a loose curl behind her ear. That's when you notice the sparkly red barrettes.

"Those are too!" you gush. "You got all dressed up for shoveling snow?"

"Um... kinda."

You hum. "It's so unlike what you normally wear, Robs. Do you have a date or something?"

"No," she says weakly. "No date."

"Well, any girl would be lucky to have you," you say.

She perks up. "Really?"

"Of course!"

You know Robin's been pining for that Vickie girl in school. And you're okay with that. Robin doesn't even know you're an option, after all. You can't blame her for pursuing other people.

Robin takes a bite of cookie.

"Shit," she says. "These are amazing."

You grin. "I'm glad you like them. I'll give you some to take."

She chews for a bit, then suddenly sets down the cookie.

"Hey," Robin says. "Can I... can I tell you something?"

"Always."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, just... please promise me that if you don't feel the same you won't... we won't stop being friends."

You tilt your head. "Feel the same? Robs, what are you—"

"Please?" she begs. "Please promise me."

"I promise, Robs. We literally fought a DnD monster last year. Nothing could make us stop being friends. Cross my heart and hope to die."

Robin chews her lip hard. She fidgets with her collar.

"Nancy helped me pick this sweater out," she says. "This morning."

"Nancy? Uh, okay... what does that have to—"

"Steve didn't ditch me," she blurts.

You shake your head. "I don't understand."

"I wore this sweater for you."

"For me?"

"I like you, Y/N," she says quietly. "I really, really like you. I didn't choose to shovel this neighborhood by accident. And I'm so nervous around you so Steve suggested I find an excuse to see you and then it snowed and I thought, maybe I can shovel your driveway and I'll finally have a real conversation and stop chickening out! But–but then you gave me your coat and brought me hot chocolate and oh my God, you're like the sweetest girl ever and I really, really like you and—"

"Robin."

She stops, eyes wide. You crouch so you're level with her chair.

"Sorry," she whispers.

You shake your head.

"Sorry for what?" you ask with a smile.

And you kiss her.

Robin makes a surprised noise but she doesn't pull away. Her fingers are cold on your cheek so you cover them with your hands to warm her up. She tastes like hot chocolate and icing. Her lips are chapped and you know her habit of picking at them, so you take care not to tug too hard with your teeth.

She hums, soft and low, and you understand. It feels like you fit.

"Do Steve and Nancy like sugar cookies?" you ask when you pull away.

Robin's brows furrow. "Steve definitely does. Why?"

"Well, I feel like they should get a treat for the parts they played."

Robin grins slyly. "Do I get a treat? I feel like I played a huge part in this, too."

You bite your lip through a smile and tug Robin forward by the collar of her sweater. She catches herself on your arms, blush high on her cheeks.

"Of course you do, Robs. You get all the treats you want."

[smallestapplin]

It’s 6 am I am angry at you/j

Anyway, my friend noodz, could I please request something entirely new still involving our Red and Blue ?

Okay so basically Monster under the bed Au, or Eldritch monsters living with you, with Red and Blue ?

I don’t care if it’s NSFW or not, there is 1 thing I want of it and it’s a scene where reader has their head hanging from their bed with their arm because they want to turn on their light but lost motivation to do so, and so stay motionless for a bit and suddenly feel something grabbing their hand and softly kissing their lips, while they can’t see shit ?

I have no idea if it makes sense pls I am so sleepy rn

-EDS anon

I went with sfw!

-

-

Ever since you’ve moved into this house l, you’ve never been alone. You aren’t sure what they are, as they don’t make themselves all that known.

But you know they are there.

From messes being cleaned by the time you return to them, to chores being done, to food on the table.

It freaked you out at first.

You don’t live with anybody, so who’s doing all this?

You learned quickly this house came with roommates.

You don’t see them, just barely out of the corner of your eyes.

But always gone when you go to look.

They listen when you talk to yourself, deeming themselves your fiends.

Blue and Red, is all they told you.

Well, all one told you.

Red is far too quiet, while Blue doesn’t bother to hide his sounds.

They move like wispy shadows.

You try not to think about it too much.

Or think about how much they tower over you.

You can feel them standing behind you sometimes.

Blue will talk to you if it’s him, his voice almost echoey as he speaks so boastfully.

Red won’t say anything, just stand there watching you cook, or clean, though he hands you want you need.

You know they are in your room with you, but you don’t say anything.

Even now as you’re reaching for the light switch, that you need to switch on before getting comfy in bed.

You groan as you stretch, trying so hard not to have to get up.

“Come on…”

Your voice strained, before you fall limb, having grown exhausted from that.

Your arm and head hang off the bed as you sigh.

You close your eyes and accept this is your life now.

Just as you were about to ask one of them, you feel a cold hand cup yours so delicately.

The wisps from his shadowy form curling around your hand and wrist.

You squeeze your eyes, keeping them shut and now wanting to spook whoever it was, off.

You take a sharp inhale of air, feeling such a soft, gentle kiss on the back of your hand.

Then another.

And another.

Slowly moving up your hand to your arm.

You hold your breath, as you feel another’s breath fan against your face, before slowly leaning closer to press his lips against yours

He puts more pressure, trying to get as close to you as possible.

“Hey! Don’t go making moves without me, you ass!”

You jump, eyes opening at the loud voice.

You lock eyes with Red, gasping softly at the monster under your bed.

He’s so handsome.

But he doesn’t let you look at him for long, disappearing in smoke and back under your bed.

And two fiery eyes stare back at you in the dark.

“He’s so rude.”

You squeak, feeling your bed move as Blue gets it in with you.

“Trying to take you for himself, doesn’t he know how to share?”

“O-oh.”

Is all you could think to say, as Blue curls around you, his chest to your back as he spoons you.

Maybe having monsters in your house, isn’t such a bad thing.

[underscar]

You should do uhhh…

Beam with a Gravure Model reader… or yhhhh

Beam domestic headcanons… bc i wanna pretend I am living with him

-Capybara Anon

DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

feats: beam :)

warnings: no pronouns

summary: what living with the shark fiend is like.

a/n: ty for your request, capybara anon! at the musuem i work at we’re actually getting a shark exhibit soon so i may post some pictures then :)

CSM TAGLIST: @loveydoveydouche

BEAM [SHARK FIEND]

— Beam is a hyper one, so living with him occasionally would be like living with a child. He wouldn't, however, be unduly reliant on you in the way that a child would.

— I don't view Beam as being stupid, as some people may believe and write him as. I'll confess that I’ve thought about it, but when I rewatched Chainsaw Man, it reminded me that fiends are Devils and those Devils have likely existed for ages before taking possession of these corpses.

— Therefore, Beam may already be accustomed with certain simple, customary tasks like sweeping, mopping, etc. He might not be familiar with the "modern household chores," like doing the laundry, using the dishwasher, or cleaning the refrigerator. But he can do the basics that you need him to, and Beam, he has the ability to learn things.

— The only problem? He doesn't particularly enjoy them…

— I think the majority of Devils would detest performing mundane housework. Either they loathe them or they find them boring and dreary. Beam being the latter.

— However, there is still some chance. There is an easy solution: bribery. You won't be stuck with a hyper fiend and a messy house. You only need purchase Beam's cooperation, and you'll succeed with ease.

— Beam truly isn't choosy, so he can be bribed with anything. Any object—food, a blanket, a toy—can be held over his head for his cooperation.  Even if he doesn't like the thing you're offering, the very act of making the offer causes him to feel something and make him want the thing.

— Besides chores, Beam is exciting and easy to live with.

— Only if he likes you—by which I mean is deeply attached to you—has any chance of moving in with you. He could only coexist peacefully with someone in that way. He will readily obey your directions if he is devoted to you.

— Beam doesn't particularly care to eat. He really only likes eating when he's with his housemate. Though when he does eat, he has a large appetite, just to keep you both at the table a tad longer, therefore prepare extra food for him.

— Don't allow him inside the kitchen either. He is unreliable and unprepared for the duties of cooking and he may never be prepared for that duty so don’t ever suggest it….

— Beam is a bundle of energy who hardly ever gets tired, which makes you feel more exhausted. However, it never ceases to be comforting to see, especially after a long day.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED

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[unknownb0yg1rl]

Didn’t post this yesterday bc I was absolutely exhausted so I apologize, anyways here’s the update of my entire fucking weekend bc it was a tc filled wreck. So as some of yall know my tc has never taught me and never worked in my school however he has helped me with my work before. This starts Friday when I get back from doing something really late. I don’t get home till one and I have work in literally three hours, so being the codependent hoe I am I text him complaining about it. The next day (Saturday) guess who spends the ENTIRE DAY at my work. I am about 99% sure I almost tackled him to the ground when I saw him. So like while we hug he keeps walking us backwards so he can talk to my mom who is behind me (yes I work with my mommy but it is no longer healthy so I’m looking for a new job) he just hold on to me the entire time he’s talking and when I tell yall he smells so fucking good. Anyways I work for a few more hours and my dad picks me up (no I don’t have my license or a car but I’m working on it) when I get home I am in so much pain that literally nothing helps with. I text him crying (again) and he tells me “if I could take away all your pain I would” and I literally fall asleep thinking about that. Sunday nothing major happens but I am supposed to meet him on Monday and I’m so looking forward to that. Monday comes and we open late so I didn’t have to come in till like 11. The first thing I do is walk around and clean things up and guess who tf I see. He ends up spending literally all day at my work again. I get off at 2:30 and go find him and he helps me with a paper I’m writing, there is an entire paragraph about him in there. And when we get to the paragraph about him he goes “aww you’re so sweet honey” well we finish my paper and I ask him if he could drive me home, AND HE SAYS YES. The minute we get out instead of pulling out his cigarettes like he usually does he pulls out a fucking vape (was not happy abt this bc I think vapes look dumb but whatever im still a fiend) I have my cigs in my bag and I wanted to smoke before we got to his car bc he doesn’t smoke in his car but I don’t say anything and js keep walking bc I can js smoke when I get home. Anyways we get to his car and he starts playing music and THE LYRICS RELATING TO ME AND HIS SITUATIONS?!? Anyways we pass his vape back and forth the entire way to my house. I had so much fun w him but I never wanted to leave his car bc it smelled like him and it smelled so fucking good. He drove me home and refused to let me give him gas money. I actually fall more and more in love with him everyday.

Reminders I am an adult who can consent and has the ability to do whatever she pleases and make her own decisions

[cosmica-galaxy]

thinking about that one 'Vet is basically the humans dad' ask...

even tho the human loves Their Main Gang (the three protectors and their mimic counterparts) it HAS to be exhausting juggling all of them for extended periods of time. a full week of Buddy and Fiend fighting over them, Pal hauling them around at the most Inconvenient of moments, Vee (playfully) terrorizing them, DJ wanting to mainly do activities that require SO much energy, Camron wanting to be around them as much as possible, AND the human tryna help out with the war when/wherever they can... yeahhh its a lot (they do love it tho!! this is THEIR little found family :])

tldr what im saying is. it'd be nice if after a particularly stressful week, the human knows they could go to Vet's room and destress for a while, vibin and eventually falling asleep with him nearby for the next couple of hours. they go into his room and hes sitting in an armchair reading a newspaper like a True Dad and theres already some snacks and a blanket set up for the human bc Vet saw this coming a mile away. and if anyone tried asking for either of them at this time Vet would hit them with the most disappointed expression a camerman could muster, say 'No", and shut his door in their face. (with the exception of genuine emergencies, of course)

I am behind this 100%. A lot of people enjoy the veteran, including me! He radiates a lot of "dad energy" and will probably do those things for the human. Especially since he watches their antics on the daily and the human gets bounced around and between the group members. Each one vying for the human's attention while they try so hard to both keep peace and entertain their friends, as well as help with the war effort. The moment they look like they're about to collapse from exhaustion, the vet drags them off to his private office and signs for them to lay the fuck down and take a nap. He'll read some material and do some quiet paperwork while the human snores away on the cot nearby while the other members of their friend circle look around and try to find them. So Vet's office becomes a hidaway for the human to get a nessassary break from the chaos that has become their organic life while Vet just shakes his head. "You did this to yourself." He would say through body language. "I know you try to make everyone happy...but don't kill yourself over it. Set some boundaries and take some breaks dammit, before I make you." He would write down on a piece of paper. When things get chaotic, at least you have Vet to rely on when things become too much. <: ) In short...this meme.