#i have intrusive thoughts about murder so um-

[graveyarrdshift]

casually talks about murder 💀

this is so real omg. you're the banger artist one! Also the simp for sure hsjsja

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[eternallyei]

What a long ride..

smut, lil angst, eren yeager x f!reader ~ +5,5k words

Casually sipping on his vape, Eren sits on the stairs, impatiently waiting for the bell to ring the end of his lovely prisoner’s class.

He takes a sip of smoke in and then blows it out, it feeds his brain just good enough to be honest. And even if smoking was prohibited inside the building, who is he to give a fuck about rules anyway.

He looks around, in case anyone catches him smoking inside the building, or report that he isn’t in class again. Not that he cares but he just wants to leave and not being held in the headmaster’s office for the uncountable hours of class he skips.

Let’s be honest and say Eren isn’t the best student in this university, he might even win if a 'worst student' contest occurred. He’s smart though, but not for class. Not at all, or he just doesn't even try.

He sighs, time seems so long when you want it to be fast, and he loses patience. He lasted twenty eight poor minutes before he feels the urge to take you out of class.

He slips his vape back in his vest pocket and goes to your class. Going up the stairs two by two, until aisle C, where he jogs to your class.

Windows give a sight enough reachable from his height to check whether you really care about the lesson or not. An airy laugh escapes him when he catches sight of you.

"exactly what i thought, you do not give a single fuck about whatever my man mr. Matsuoka is tryna explain"

You’re there, half listening half fighting against your eyes to not close. Leaning your head on your palm, and playing with your pen in your other hand.

Finally you look at the aisle windows and here is his head trying to sneak into the annoying hour you are going through. He blinks at you, shooting you a small malicious smile.

You frown nodding him to go away, when all of a sudden he disappears. You take a breath of relief before the class becomes silent.

knock knock

"come in!"

You hide behind your hands when Eren’s figure appears in the doorframe. Gosh Eren, don’t embarrass me, please..

"hello, um.. i’d like to borrow one of your students if you’d allow me"

The teacher raises an eyebrow in confusion. What the hell would be more important than attending his class after all ?

A sucker for the headmaster, Eren bets.

"yeah, i was told to bring her to big daddy’s office"

You pinch the bridge of your nose at his words while the whole class giggles. If only you had the ability to disappear, it would help right now.

Seriously Eren ? Big daddy’s office ??

He’s so stupid sometimes you wonder how he didn’t fail his years until now. The whole university have a crush on him even though he’s an idiot asshole and everyone giggles when he says his intrusive thoughts out loud. Having no shame to spit words like this in front of everyone is probably your biggest strength Eren i swear to god, you think.

"Yeager, you better stop fooling around before I send you to the headmaster myself !"

Eren holds back a laughter as he realizes the teacher understood who he was referring to, then he quickly continues.

"yeah yeah, anyway, can I ?"

"if he asked you to, go ahead."

In a split second, he locks eyes with you. Everyone turns around to look at you, not so surprised he came for you. The whole college knows Eren follows you around like a dog, whether he just walks next to you looking like a murderer or talks non stop while teasing you.

You look at him, clearly unamused by the situation he puts you in when he nods and gestures you to come.

"take your stuff.. just in case", he says, shooting a fake smile at the teacher.

You pack your stuff and greet the professor, uttering a small apology before leaving. Eren closes the door behind you and you walk down the corridor, thinking about what stupid plan he found again.

"don’t thank me"

"did not even think about it"

Getting down the stairs, you stop mid-way, making him look back up at you.

"we’re not heading to the headmaster’s office, are we ? where are you leading me again Eren ?"

"no, big daddy doesn’t really want to see your ugly face, sorry"

"Eren, fuck, stop being so dumb for gods sake"

"what ! what did i do again ?"

"big daddy ? seriously ?"

"you don’t like it ?"

"i don’t."

"'kay, whatever babe. can we go now ?"

"don't call me-"

"let’s go already, just trust me"

"that’s exactly the reason why i asked, you idiot”

“ugh.. fuck it, c’mhere"

He walks up the stairs, takes the handle of your backpack and throws it over his shoulder. He sighs.

"the fuck you think you’re doing, 'ren ?"

"learning you how to behave like a good girl"

You roll your eyes as he winks at you, clearly proud that he got to act stupid again, and tease you more. He bents down waist level, grabbing your legs to throw you over his shoulder too.

You tried to fight at least but you both know who’s stronger here.

As you arrived to the car, Eren sets you back to the floor, opens the passenger’s door and waves in circles like the clowns do i guess for you to get seated in the car.

You just stare at him, unsure however it’s one of the days he’s eager to gain that trust of yours or either it’s those days he ends up with some shitty tricks or plans with you.

He smiles at how undetermined you are to give him your trust and do as he pleases.

"c'mon, babe.. we’re not gonna wait here all day. get inside the car"

You give him your meanest side eye look and get seated in the car in silence while he holds eye contact.

"hhh.. thank you", he nods.

He slams the door back and gets seated in the driver seat. Puts his key in the car before everything lights up and the engine roars.

Eren fastens his seatbelt and looks at you

"seatbelt, miss"

And you do.

After some time, when you’ve reached the highway, your mind just wanders.

He really just made you skip classes to take you out ? Where even ? Couldn’t he just wait for your day to end ? It’s not your business if HE doesn’t want to go to school and have a diploma and.. whatever.

You roll your eyes again, Eren has just been conducting you to escape whatever responsible decisions you take.

It makes you think about back then where it all began, raised by not-so-legal parents, your dad barely home but enough to remind you how in danger you were from his enemies. When as much warning as he gave you, you still ended up being taken away from your sweet home.

Surrounded by a bunch of unhealthy individuals but only one stood out from the crowd, and it was Eren. He looked good and healthier for once, it felt reassuring, and yet again here he was the only one taking real care of you. Or even just giving a slight shit about you.

He spent time with you, learning how you worked around people, who you could bear with and who you couldn’t.

You were so thankful at first, because he acted so nice and irreproachable. His nice demeanor felt like you could at least feel some relief in having him as a friend or.. whatever.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last long enough for him to show how irresponsible and childish he could be. Almost stalking you everyday at school, the only place you could go to outside the mansion. He went on asking you out here and there, while you try to decline but he never failed to make you say yes.

Well, to be very honest, let’s not say you’ve grown to have a crush on this dude because he would like it a bit too much but.. let’s still stay honest and say you actually do. You probably like his annoying ass at least a little. Barely a lot, as a secret.

Then again, here you are, going all in for one of his plan again, who knows what he’ll come up with this time and how awfully awkward it will be.

You turn your head to look at him, seeing he’s so focused on the road in front of him.

He’s just so fine, c’mon.

His defined hands that you admire so often, left hand firmly gripping the wheel while his right one stays on the gearbox. Notice how he’s still wearing all his jewelries, including the bracelet you offered him.

His toned chest peacefully rising up and down as if life wasn’t the biggest of his concerns at all, god.. he got you daydreaming in your seat right next to him. they must be heavy over his heart..

His hair tied up in a messy bun letting some strands escape and fall on his neck, as well as letting out some streaks of hair fall in front of his face. Do they never get in his eyes ?

His tongue licking wet his pinkish lips from time to time, and his eyes wandering on the road, aware of every details around him.

Those beautiful emerald eyes that keep fidgeting between cars and the road, before they snap at you.

You snap your head back to the window, acting like nothing happened as the blush invades your cheeks.

"i was wondering how long you’d check me out before i’d have to bring you out of your cunt.

it was actually pretty much of a long stare, babe.. i might think you like me more than you show it”

He’s so annoying, you even start to regret staring at him. Sometimes you just wish he’d choke on air.

"shut up, i was just looking around. the silence sounded way too unusual”

He laughed, way too entertained by your annoyance.

“where are we going, it’s been almost an hour you’ve been driving"

“chill, it’s been fifteen minutes, i’m just searching for a good place to stop"

"so you’re gonna abandon me in the middle of nowhere ?"

"Yes, smarty. order of the big master”

Eren keeps messing with you. You know damn well no one in that goddamn crew would dare take the risk to lose a so precious ressource. That gentle little girl is worth too much to lose.

Checking several times whether you’re looking or not, he puts a hand on your thigh, making you jolt in surprise. You try to push his hand away but his grip is just so tight and strong, it’s of no use. And whenever you ‘politely’ ask him to take his hand off your thigh, he gives no shit and only gets further and closer to your heat.

So at the end you just give up.

After a little moment of fighting with Eren in your head, he drives off to a resting point of the highway.

“what are you doing ? where are we ?”

“have you already fucked on the back seats of a car ?”

I’m sorry ?? your thoughts freeze for a split second, heart dropping from the stairs of a scale all the way to your stomach. It’s clear he’s not joking for once, he’s good at hinting but a very bad liar. You don’t know whether you wish you heard him right or whether you wish you never heard him at all but you also debate whether it’s his personal needs or the crew heads one.

The one time he had to not be flirting or teasing you, spending his time telling you dirty shits just to get you flustered… it had to be the time he finally mentions sex with you.

While he calmly parks the car, you try to clear things in your mind, trying to hide the obvious heat going all the way to your cheeks again.

I might be hearing hallucinations. Your thoughts just mix together, a part of you doesn’t want to have this conversation with him, but then again.. look at him, and look at you melting in your seat at some damn words.

Your poor stomach tightens as he takes a stop between the parking stripes.

Eren pulls on the handbrake and stays silent for a few seconds as you almost hold your breath next to him, the knock in your stomach feels so tight. Gosh, breathe, it’s.. good thing.

He looks around, some cars are parked farther down the lines, at least not next to his. And then he watches you, and how you stare at your feet, at whatever inexistant detail suddenly appeared to be interesting.

He giggles, as if the situation was hilarious.

"look who became so silent! you’re always opening your fucking mouth, hissing back at me when i say shit and now that i bring sex into light.. you’re quiet like never.

‘ssup kitten, cat caught your tongue ? mmh ?"

He tugs your hair behind your ear to have a better view of your face, and you try to pull back. He sits back in his seat, and clears his throat.

“sit your pretty ass in the back.”

“but..”

“that wasn’t a question, doll, i said sit your pretty ass in the back of this car.”

“Eren not here, please!”

“come on, nobody’s gonna see us”

A big sigh escapes your lips, why here ? You try to pull on the handle but to no avail, doors long closed by the moment you both fastened your seatbelt.

“let me step out”

“no, i’m not allowed to do that, you know that”

"then let me get to the backseats"

"sure, as you wish", he nods, before he unlocks the door for you.

You know this is like a beast playing with his feast before a meal, he’s so confident around you. Nearly stepping out, you thought maybe it was time to end your fugitive life after all. You mentally facepalm at how naive you sound, he knows every next step of yours.

You stand next to the car, pretending to be an obedient hostage for once in your career but your eyes wander around, trying to find a car who's about to leave where you can hop in.

Unfortunately, he knows you and steps out too, calling you out of your thoughts.

"hey, i know what you’re thinking about, don’t test me."

You stare at him, snapping your head back at some people farther back, walking towards their car. Who does he think you are to not try it out, huh ? Who’s the bad little bunny now, mmh ?

"hey, if you run away, i’ll fuck you right on the door in front of you for anyone who parks next to us to see. am i clear ?"

Sounds dissuasive enough, even if the car was hidden enough by wonderful mother nature.. but why not try though, it might work to run away. At least you won’t have to face those money and killing hungry men every morning again. It seems like a good deal, right ?

Heels spinning around before you start walking faster and faster, all to the strangers car, while Eren sighs yet again, not even bothering to run at this point. He knows you won't get a single chance with strangers on this road. Do you even know how many couples are fighting on runways ? How many pretty young women like you are taken away to satisfy needs ?

And here you are stumbling over your words at how to explain or tell them why you need them to take you anywhere safer than the woods. By the time you finally get to the point he already reaches you, putting his best actor mask on, proving you how good of a liar he can turn out to be.

"hello man, i’m sorry! she’s kinda lost, you know!

he stares into your lost eyes,

love, it's okay, c'mhere, i’m sorry for what I said, let’s go back home, ok ?

Eren takes a firm hold of your hand,

sorry for the inconvenience, you know how it is! have a nice road man!"

You couldn’t believe how ridiculously easy it was to get rid of these people like nothing happened, they probably couldn’t even speak your language.

"you know how big of troubles you could’ve just put me into ?

gonna hav’ta stick to my words..

you think i’m scared like you are.."

And just as he said, he pulled you by your wrist your chest hitting the right door of the car, smirking at your attempt to pull back and your voice echoing just to beg him to not do that. Not here, like that for everyone to see, please.

He squeezed his chest against you, making a sort of metal sound when your body hits the vehicle.

He makes you spread your legs with his knees and grabs your pantie under the poor skirt you were so happy to wear today. He takes it off, stuffing it in his pocket.

"if you continue breathing so heavy and fast, you might also fuck yourself on my cock, once i’m in, kitten"

Shut up. He loses no time before his fingers slide down your clit, making the heat come up to your cheeks and ears when you realise how wet you were already.

"look who’s dripping, i didn’t even touch you yet. is that how 'desperate' you are for it, mmh ?"

"fuck you"

He laughed, "no babe, fuck you"

He rubs circles over your clit, his boner pressed against your ass. You let out an airy moan at how sweet his fingers feel around your bundle of nerve.

He plays with you, while you debate in your head whether he plays better with your clit than you’ve done alone in your room, wishing it was him all this time.

He draws circles, slides up and down, writing his name over your clit, fast or slow, he decides. He was just enjoying that touch as much as you did personally.

His hands, that you spent hours watching, are between your thighs playing like you wish was his tongue. Eren rubs himself on your ass, trying to get some friction from the mere contact of your body, he's so hard, his cock twitches in his boxer already. Just thinking about being inside you makes him want to cum so bad.

He's as desperate as you, let’s be honest. He wants himself inside you as much as you're dying to feel his cock deep in your core.

Hearing metallic sounds from what seems like his belt, you close your eyes tight, trying to imagine anything, anywhere else you could be where no one would see you both right now. Within a second after his fingers left your clit, he slips in. Like he’s been waiting for this for ages.

His dick brushes every little part of your cunt, his hands grabbing your waist so hard it starts to burn. The tip of his cock stretches the way in enough for him to fit all in at once.

And surprisingly, it feels so good your eyes roll back and you're already moaning. Even with all the strength you could think of having, it's just so hard to hold back the lewd screams.

Your wetness helps his way in and he slides in and out with so less effort, he smacks his hips on yours, holding your waist tighter than ever to feel all of you.

Eren can’t even think straight, he’s pounding as fast as he can, as hard as he can, the car moves back and forth with his movements, and here you are, moaning and whining under his body for what seems like the best fuck you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t give any of a slight fuck about anything around him, he’s just so focused on the way he slides in and out of your pussy so easily. Sighing in pleasure, he keeps that stupid smirk on his face the whole time, he’s trying so hard to not be loud, muffled and breathy moans come out from his mouth, and the lewd sounds his cock makes, adds to this growing smirk.

Every thrust feels like you’re about to cum, you didn’t even realise you were squeezing him before he giggles in your ear. Your legs trembling from the pleasure and force he puts in his hips, you whine.

"'ren.. mh.. fuck, don’t- stop.."

"don’t worry, i won’t baby, i won’t until you squeeze the shit out of my cock"

Breath hitching and moan escaping in rhythm with every thrust, you’re trying to hold those stupid moans in but they just get out with your breath at how much his cock fills you up so well.

He pounds repeatedly against your hips, fucking your hole like he's been waiting for it for years, he’s so fucking hypnotised by the feeling of your gummy walls squeezing his dick.

He fucks you fast, it almost hurts how deep he is inside you. It doesn’t last long before you’re moaning to let him know you’re at the end of it.

"i-i’m.. gon- mh.. cum 'ren"

He lets out a chuckle, letting you know how desperate and cock drunk you sound. It’s not even been a few minutes and you’re already close to cum. Emptiness hits, and the pounding stops.

Eren suddenly stops, his cock into your cunt not playing with your guts, before your walls would start spasming around him. You were just at the edge of your orgasm but he pulls out as fast as he got in.

"get in the car", he says, walking to the back of the car, hand waving for you to do the same.

It takes you a few seconds to get back on your feet and follow him. So easily, just like this, brain fucked..

Getting in the back, the head rest all the way down, his head thrown back, hair undone falling over his shoulder, he’s there waiting for you. Waiting for you to come and sit on him like a good girl.

At this point you don’t even care if he’s gonna make fun of how desperate you were for his dick, your core feels just so empty.

You get on top of him, hugging him as tight as you can and sit.

"hey hey hey, who said you could sit", he slaps.

The slap makes you flinch, you sit up, holding your ass up while he gets ready. He throws his shirt over his head, and slides down a little on the seat, grabbing your waist.

You'd be lying if you said something else was on your mind at this moment, other than him.

He has you hypnotised and completely drunk on him, his eyes feel heavy as hell on you, and your hands already go for his chest while you're still free for touch.

He grabs your wrists, bringing them to hold his dick. He sighs at the feeling of your soft hands around him, and smiles as he throws his head back again. His gaze glued to yours, keeping an eye on your pretty face. Sliding your hands up and down his wet cock, while you wish it was you going up and down on him again, Eren breathes heavily, holding that unbearable eye contact.

The urge to kiss him is also unbearable, his red lips forming that stupid looking smirk make it so hard to resist from devouring his mouth, but you're too proud to show him how weak you become when it comes to him.

Feeling every vein around his cock tracing your hands under your movements, he curses. Grabbing tightly your thighs as they become red from the violence he was doing to them. Sliding down his length where it stops at his balls and going back up, rubbing circles around the tip already red and ready to paint you. You lean in, placing kisses under his collarbone, although you know it's weak of you but it's so hard to not give in and not taste his skin. He looks so fucking hot like this.

Your eyes following down, watching how his cock never disappears even if you use both hands, debating whether your hands are too small or whether he’s really that big. How did it even fit inside you to begin with ?

He scoffs, watching every little facial expression you make while watching how you’re getting him off.

"’kay enough, now sit", he breathes.

So eager to finally sit on him, you quickly get closer to him and line up over his cock. Grabbing a nice handful of his hair, and when you’re ready you put your arms around his neck and clench your fists when his cock slides right back in. Fuck, it feels just so good..

"good girl"

His voice echoes in your ear it sends shivers down your spine. If only you could just sit on his face for once, maybe he’d stop talking shit with that pretty fucking voice of his while he’s at it.

"fuuck.. Eren!"

After a few minutes of feeling empty, he just feels so big, bigger than when you were pressed on the car back there. It makes your eyes squeeze shut from the stretch again, whining in his ear. You just don’t want this to stop, starting to move your hips back and forth before he stops you.

"hey, shh shh, slow down little one. i’m the one deciding whether you can move or not.

He smirks, searching for your eyes.

you would run away from me minutes ago and now look who’s so impatient to be dumb fucked, huh ?"

You feel so ridiculous, it’s so stupid how you were repeating to yourself how never will you ever fuck anyone in this clan, more so how much you hated Eren and his bratty demeanor, and now look who’s begging him to fuck you deep and nasty. He might just have turned you into a brainless fucking whore.

Before doing anything he yanks you down entirely on his length, canceling any of the small centimeters you didn’t even think about getting inside anymore. You swear it’s about to tickle your stomach if this doesn’t end, and just when you start to adjust, Eren grabs your waist harshly and starts guiding you up and down on his cock, playing with you as he pleases. Once he makes it slow and precise, once he makes it fast and stupidly deep, making the impact echo inside the vehicle. He could finally use you as his personal little fuck toy.

You moan, it feels so fucking wrong but so fucking good at the same time, your eyes cross and it makes him giggle as usual. His eyes still glued to your face, never missing any of your reactions. It feels so good, and he sees it, he feels it by the way you squeeze his arm, how you’re leaving marks on his skin and who even cares, at least he can finally tease you about how much of a whore you can be when you’re around him, on him. Even after all this time refusing, insulting and despising every piece of his crew’s methods.

Your head falls on his shoulder and you can’t help but melt in his arms, letting your collarbone bend, refusing to hold the posture, it’s just too much for your brain to process the feeling there. It’s absolutely not what you were picturing as 'what fucking with Eren' was, you were actually far from there.

It’s fucking deep and hard, and again just when you feel you’re about to lose it, he stops. Earning a whine from you, and your hips trying to move under his strong grip.

"no, no, no, Eren! please!"

“shh, it’s alright, catch your breath kitten, you’re panting."

He says giving you that fake asshole worried look, searching for your eyes again. He slides his hand up in your hair, pulling your head back to have a better view of your mid-conscious face.

He laughs, you look so pathetic and he got what he wanted from you after all this time. He leans in for a small taste of your neck where he kisses and bites your skin. Please not the hickeys. He slowly and slightly brushes your back with his other hand, before he ends up squeezing you close to him.

He bites and kisses up your jaw, your cheek and looks at you again before he pulls in for a kiss on those pretty reddish fucking lips of yours.

“Ohh how many times have I got a boner by just imagining the taste of your lips.. fuck”

Eren sighs, you don’t even bother reacting to his teasings, how many times have you imagined it too..

He uses the firm grip he got on your hair to kiss you and slide his tongue in your mouth, kissing you nice and harsh. You turn into a puppet in his hands, letting him do whatever he pleases with you. He smiles, enjoying that kiss a little too fucking much.

You unconsciously move your hips once, signalling him he’s still inside and you want him. Fuck it, fuck me, that’s what i want.

He stops your moves, unbuttoning that pretty shirt you wear, sliding the tissue of your bra down your tits enough for him to free them. As soon as they pop out, he’s on it. Pinching and rubbing circles around your nipple while the other is harassed by his mouth. He bites, licks and kisses the edge of your nipples, making you jolt and tighten around his cock when it gets too good.

He has you firm between his arms, leaving you no escape from his sweet torture, finally moving your hips over him. His lips bullying your tits like he has been craving for it over ages again.

The grip he has on your waist, leads him to search that perfect spot inside you, forcing his cock deep inside your cunt. Your hips move back and forth over his shaft and while he sucks on your tits, here it is.

"ah! fuck!"

Eren shots his head up to look right into your eyes.

"yeah ? right there ?"

"yeah..", you sigh.

"right there huh ?"

You frantically nod in response.. yeah, it’s the spot and be ready for him to memorize it, for.. ulterior purposes. He hits his hips up and down using every motion, possibility and strength he has to reach that g-spot over and over until you cum.

Your pornographic moans feeding his soul right next to his ear, it feels like your mind is going blank at how his rubbing on that spot so well.

"a-ah..ngh! Er-!"

"yeah ? right there ? gonna cum f’me, yeah ?

be a good girl and cum on my cock.

c’mon big girl."

You fall forward, losing your strength of holding your back straight again, it’s almost hilarious how you seem so blank and manipulated by him. Yeah, you hate him, but how long can you last before you lose your mind and feel addicted to the feeling of this cunt harassment ? How long can you last, bouncing on his dick so desperate, before you admit you spend hours fucking your pillows at night while moaning his name under your breath ?

His perfume gets right up to your brain as he gets faster and faster, punching that fucking spot inside you with the pinkish tip you were rubbing just minutes ago.

He fucks you deep, bullying your walls with his veins and mushroom tip, he wants to cum inside you so bad, so so bad.

The orgasm grows inside you more and more, and Eren knows. He repeats sweet dirty things in your ears while you feel like you’re gonna cum any time soon.

"yeah, see how we fuck pretty fucking whores like you, mmh ?

i’m gonna fill you up so well, you better not waste a single drop of my precious cum, 'derstand ?

fuck.. this feels good, mmh ? show me how it feels, let me hear it."

He’s just so fucking loud for fucks sake.

"shut- up, oh my- god.. don’t s-top.."

"beg.", he stops

"fuck.. pl-ease Eren, don’t s-top.. pl-uhh"

"that’s right, good girl."

Why does he even love that pet name so much ? He can’t stop now anyway. He’s too pussy drunk too to actually think about stopping his movements. He fucks his dick in and out of you at an inhuman pace at this point. He just wants to cum too at the end.

Before he even has the time to fuck you a little bit more into your orgasm, you moan loud enough to make everyone around the car know you both are fucking, as he lets out a moan too.

He moans, airy or low toned, he does as it comes out, he feels even better, not that you weren’t already tight enough for him to risk cumming from the first pull but the way your walls spasm around him tickles the veins and tip of his cock so well.

Eren is so close to cum, everything feels so right from the way you sit and bounce on his cock like a good little whore, to the way you moan his name as loud as you used to yell how much of a piece of shit he is.

"Eren.. please"

"just a little more, kitten.."

Few thirst left and he’s spilling his cum inside you, making it drip down your thighs, mixing with your cum following close after him. A bunch of loads, feeling up the entirety of your core and he just can’t stop fucking his semen back inside you.

"we’re not gonna waste any drop, yeah ?

who’s fault is it gonna be if you end up making the back seats dirty, mmh my little prisoner ?"

Quick enough he slows down his thirsts and gets his breath back. Hands all over you, helping your head up, catching your gaze through the mist of your teary eyes. He tugs your hair back behind your ear. He giggles, seeing how fucked out you look. You really do look wasted, and yet not even a drop of alcohol or drug was spilled in your blood, only his cum.

He presses a kiss on your lips.

"let’s get back on road, babe, I have to drop you off before they start wondering where you’re at."

He lifts you up from his cock after a minute of recovering, letting you drop off on the seat next to him. It takes you a few second before you finally get up and come back to your senses.

He hands you your pantie, tugged in the back pocket of his jeans, and you quickly put it back on.

Everything is so weird to talk casually when you get back on road. He stays silent for once and his eyes swings between you and the road more often. Eren is mostly just so proud he proved you wrong about you hating him, you’re down bad, you daydream about him nonstop and now you can’t even try to lie to him anymore. It’d be pointless. Now you’re his anyway, all for him to use.

He knows how he makes you feel on a daily basis, he knows so well all your eye rolls are to hide the fact that he makes you feel giggly. He knows how all the mean words you say to him sound like a ‘fuck me, i’m begging you’. He knows you too well now.

Now all you’re wondering is how you're gonna make it through the night, sleeping or replaying that fuck scene over and over in your head until you find something to hate him about again.

Leaving his car when he’s parked in front of the mansion, you stay quiet all the way to your room door where he escorts you.

You both barely talk a word, only a small good night and an awkward eye contact, his eyes staring right back at you with a small smirk again.

Eren huffs when you close the door, turning around to join his own room soon enough.

"i might be an asshole sometimes and she might be stubborn as fuck but.. damn she moaned my name louder than i expected her to", he scoffs.

He's such an asshole.

well.. that’s a bit more like it.

yeah, i know that’s a lot of f word uses oopsies

im so unsure abt this one, mc was supposed to be kidnapped at first and still able to go to school thats why she wanted to escape but.. whatever i guess we still like his pretty fucker ass.

anyway, hope you like it [:

(i tried to rewrite some parts so dont mind if theres a problem somewhere loll)

@eternallyei. please do not copy/translate/use as your own.

[dragjunkie23]

Sam if his partner has OCD

A/N: This is personal to me as OCD is the first thing I was diagnosed with and I often see so many misconceptions on the condition. TW as I will be talking about intrusive thoughts which can get dark

He will notice some of your weird “quirks” like double checking to make sure your door was locked or you knocking on wood when anxious

At first he would think nothing of it

Eventually, though, your behaviors begin to get strange

You started to avoid handling objects like knives, guns, and other objects that can be considered weapons

It eventually got you to avoid holding just something as simple as a butter knife

When he asked about it, you would at first deny anything is wrong, but Sam knows you there is an issue and is worried about you, so you finally open up

“Every time…I hold something…I get the idea of stabbing you, Dean or even myself though I don’t want to do it. I don’t know why I’m getting these thoughts! I don’t wanna hurt anyone!!”

Sam would immediately start researching your symptoms and find that you have OCD

“You’re not gonna hurt me, baby girl, nor are you gonna hurt yourself. You’re dealing with intrusive thoughts. It doesn’t mean you’re gonna act on them.”

Will comfort you when the intrusive thoughts come around, no matter how dark or disturbing they get

Knows how to get your mind on something else to help you calm down.

“What’s the name of the monster that comes from Japanese lore where someone who was murdered from a state of rage comes back to haunt?” “Um…Onryō?” “Good. How do you defeat them?

“Name 5 objects in this room that are the color green.”

If you are comfortable with it, he may try to help with exposure techniques

Side note: Do NOT partake in Exposure Therapy without any kind of professional

For a few days you may hold a knife for five seconds and then gradually move into holding it for 10 minutes with Sam or Dean in the room

Yes, Dean will also be more than willing to help out as you’re like a little sister to him

Overall, it will catch Sam a bit off guard when he realizes how dark intrusive thoughts are, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help you.

[nomsfaultau]

13) “Give me your hands” and 22) Survivior’s guilt. 

Disclaimer: this blurb is set in the SCP SBI AU I have called Fault, and dances over the timeline so good luck. Explanation of AU; tldr. 

“Give me your hands.” The stranger’s voice was gruff and demanding, and Tommy complied at once. It wasn’t that he was intimidated! Sure the random demon he’d summoned was massively tall, extremely strong, and just killed a lot of people, but Tommy was an alpha male! And anyway, the bloke technically saved his life in the barest sense of the word, so he had to be a good guy. Nevermind that Tommy watched people be reduced to smears running down the walls. They were villains. That was what they deserved. Right?

Tommy held a little stiller than he preferred, acutely aware of how easily the boar hero’s fists crunched skulls in. But the enormous hooves were surprisingly gentle as they held Tommy’s hands, prodding in their examination. His hero adjusted his dorky glasses and peered closer, curiously studying the strange crimson color curling around Tommy’s fingers. Blood mixed into the ruby power dancing across Tommy’s palms, indistinguishable. 

The Blade hadn’t been the only one killing the villains. 

“...huh. I’m guessing this red stuff is what summoned me?” 

“I think so? Do you know what it is?” 

His hero grunted. “I was hoping you’d know that.”

“Nah, it only showed up a few minutes before you did.” Tommy studied his own hands just as intensely. With great concentration, he tried to get the swirling scarlet liquid to grow. Then, to disappear. It ignored him, and he frowned, not sure how the power worked. Wait. “WAIT! I have superpowers now?!”

The Blade squinted at the boy. “Uhhhhhh. Suuuuure?” Tommy pumped his fist in the air rather excitedly. He had to admit it was kinda cute even if he wasn’t a kid person. “Probably don’t tell anyone, alright?” he hazarded, suddenly a little worried the twerp was going to get himself nabbed immediately. This kid needed to shift away from Marvel to X-Men fast if he was going to survive.

“Yes! Like a secret identity! So you’re a superhero, right?” Tommy peered up hopefully. The crimson hitched upwards. “Right? Those guys were villains because they tried to murder me. That’s why you killed them, right?” There was almost a note of desperation to the question.

“Um. No.” The Blade pretty much murdered them because he was suddenly teleported into a hostile situation and was immediately attacked. Self-defense, baby. 

The ruby power spiked then, the scent of fear sharpening. But then bull-headed determination flashed in his eyes. “A vigilante then, that makes sense. Like Batman. Hey! And now I can join you and save people too! You can be my sidekick.”

“Wait hold on, no, you’re MY sidekick, not the other way around,” The Blade argued before realizing that meant he inadvertently supported Tommy’s absurd notion. He was a survivor, he didn’t have time to be a savior. If the kid wanted to read any morality into his actions that was their problem. 

“Ok. I’ll train under you until I’m too powerful and surpass you completely, and THEN you’ll be my sidekick.” For some reason, the voices didn’t feel threatened by his open intention to usurp him. Weird. For once in his life The Blade was getting zero intrusive thoughts about brutally murdering the dude he was talking to. It was kinda relaxing actually. 

Tommy held out a fist, and after belated realizing it wasn’t a (very wimpy) attack The Blade completed the fist bump. Tommy beamed at The Blade. “Thanks for saving me.” 

It was…strange. No one had ever thanked him for something like that before. And sure he’d really only incidentally saved the boy through a combination of weird coincidences, otherworldly machinations beyond their comprehension, and the fact something about Tommy’s power literally prevented him from even contemplating attacking him, but The Blade did have to admit it felt pretty nice. 

Nice, but not the reason his tail was wagging. Nope, not at all. That was all post-bloodlust high. Definitely. 

.

“Give me your hands.” Mum smiled as she said it, but it made trepidation build in Tommy’s gut. 

Tommy fixed his smile, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, you’re so clingy. I’m not a kid anymore!” 

“You’re fifteen—”

“Only for a few more weeks! I’m practically an ad-” Deviously, she lunged for his hands and he jerked back sharply. “Don’t,” he yelped a little too desperately. Tommy gulped, trying to swallow his panic. “Don’t do that I have a- have a reputation to maintain Mum, can’t be doing cheesy girly stuff like hand holding haha.” 

“Tommy-” her tone was far, far too serious as he retreated. 

“I’ll get a hold of it eventually, just give me some time. We’re working on it.” Tommy was a little frustrated he hadn’t figured out how to control his powers yet, but all the other guys said it took a while so that was okay. At least it didn’t work on The Blade or Philza. The same couldn’t be said for Wilbur, which was really bad. It just made him bicker with the others, which, while funny, still meant he couldn’t control the Red. Tommy didn’t know what had made it so lethal in the villain encounter, but he needed to find out before he risked getting someone hurt. 

He’d find a way to use it for good, though. One way or another, Tommy was going to be a hero.

“What does your power do?”

Tommy laughed nervously. “Sorry, that’s confidential hero stuff, Mum.” 

Tommy refused to tell her what happened in that room. Her baby boy witnessed -enacted?- a massacre and that wasn’t something that would ever be undone. He went in normal and came out with blood permanently fresh on his hands. All she knew was a haunted look came across him in quiet moments, and she didn’t trust the new ‘friends’ he’d made in the aftermath, and he absolutely refused to touch anyone. 

She reached up carefully to avoid his hands, craning his head down till their foreheads touched. For all that she had to rise to her tiptoes to meet him, Tommy was still her little boy. He’d grown a lot in the last year, and even more so on that dreadful day his powers showed up, but she’d never stop seeing that golden-haired child with his mischievous, gaptoothed smile and dirt staining the knees of his pants. 

“Just talk to me when you’re ready, okay? And if those men try anything I’ll destroy them.” 

Tommy’s laugh was far brighter this time. “Mum! You wouldn’t stand a chance! Besides, The Blade and his friends are nice.” 

Scruffy was the word she would use. She’d vetted them, of course, she wasn’t going to just let her son lose with complete strangers and just trust he came home safe. The Blade was intimidating, but a dork. That Wilbur fellow was just a hopelessly broke musician as far as she could tell, though had a worrisome collection of scars. She respected Philza to some degree though, since he had an ounce of manners. Hopefully, he’d keep the others in line. 

“Tommy. You’re spending hours with homeless people, I have every right to be concerned.” Still, they were the only ones with any idea of how to help Tommy explore the new aspects of his identity. Unfortunately, Tommy’s mother was the supportive type, and was trying to give him room to experiment despite her reservations. 

“You’re always worried though.” 

She pressed a kiss into his forehead. “With a brat like you, I have to be.” He pulled a face, feathers ruffled at the utter indignity of affection. But she let gravity seep into her tone. “I know it scares you. But I know you’ll do the right thing, you’re a good kid at heart. Okay? This isn’t going to change anything.”

.

But it did. 

Tommy had been abducted and locked in a padded room for days now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. He wanted his mum. In Tommy’s books, that was a pathetic thought for a sixteen-year-old to have, but it was true, he wanted to see his parents so bad it hurt. He wanted his friends. Or even not his friends, random people at school, hell even people he didn’t get along with so long as it was a face he recognized. Or even one he didn’t. At this point, Tommy would settle for one of the freaky scientists or soldiers just so there would be someone to talk to. Or, more accurately, shout at and demand answers from. Like, were they villains, where the hell was he, what did they want, why did they kidnap him…

And then someone finally entered the room. Or, more aptly, the guns entered before the squad of soldiers, so Tommy actually found it suddenly easy to continue saying nothing at all. His hands shot up in the air in surrender, scarlet ribbons of liquid dancing around him. 

“Cease the threat display,” a guard barked. 

The power only poured out further. “It doesn’t- I don’t control it, it won’t-” he was ordered to be silent. Tommy had never been good at that, but he managed, biting down questions. Doctors circled like vultures, and he had the strangest premonition shivering down his spine. He felt like a lamb being inspected for imperfections before the slaughter.  

“Give me your hands.” Gloves were dropped into his outstretched palms. Thick, sturdy, and frankly pretty ugly. Tommy had no idea how deeply he’d come to despise them. In fact, Tommy had very little idea of anything, head still caught in the little stories people liked to tell. Lies about powerful heroes rescuing civilians, or good triumphing over evil, or the world caring about people like him. 

“Um. What are the gloves for?”

The guard grinned. “So you can’t fight back.” 

.

The demon was tall and slender with bright white eyes and a literal beam of a smile. He seemed nice. That was the problem, the Foundation always sent Tommy to meet the nice ones so that he could fix that. 

Tommy approached cautiously, carefully weighing threats between the D-Class prisoners behind him and the towering demon ahead. Anomalies were safe at first though, and Tommy knew exactly how to protect himself now. And if he were honest, Tommy didn’t want to get to know the D-Class before their imminent execution. It only made the nightmares worse. 

“Hi!” the demon chirped. “I’m Halo! Wow, I haven’t seen someone new in…” he trailed off uncertainly, a faint furrow of his brow. But he shrugged quickly enough. “A couple years I guess. Sorry, they think I’m boring. No one really pays attention to me anymore. Not violent enough to be interesting I guess. They certainly tried, though.” Tommy caught the flash of horror flickering across glowing eyes. He knew that pressure intimately given how he’d broken beneath it. Still, Tommy perked a little, not expecting the hope. A sour consolation, but neglect had to be far better than cruel attention. Maybe one day he’d be left alone too. 

“I’m…” he swallowed roughly. “I’m the Instigator, I guess. I’m the newest attempt.”  

“Begin threat assessment test,” came a strict voice over a com system.  

At Tommy’s wince, Halo gave him a reassuring smile and a snort. “Don’t worry about that. These muffin-heads have been trying to get me to murder people for years and I’ve yet to break.” Tommy…didn’t have that kind of strength. He didn’t know how Halo had endured it. 

All he knew was that was finally ending today. 

“Instigator, give it your hands,” ordered the overseeing worker. He could feel the eyes of observers for all that he couldn’t see them. 

“Ignore them. What’s your story?” Halo asked. “I haven’t talked to anyone in ages, what’s it like? Are you a recent capture? Do you remember the outside still?” 

Tommy glanced nervously at the observation window. But he was almost just as desperate for conversation. “I’ve been here a few weeks. And. And I miss trees. It’s weird, but I miss how tall they were. Like, because that meant there was space, not these cramped cells and hallways.”

“Yes! And the sky! Oh how I miss the freedom of the sky,” he sighed, dark wings flaring out. 

“Stars,” Tommy added. “Just scattered out, millions of them. And people, everywhere, and you can just talk to them and they’re nice, not like here at all. I just want to m̵̮̙͗u̷̺̦̇̀f̷̟̀̄̈́f̶̯̯̈́̍̀i̸͕̭͎̅̌n̶͔̣̭̏ing talk to someone, you know?”  

“Language,” the demon chided, barbed tail lashing. “But yes. Listen, this is important, did you know a guy called Skep-”

“Give it your hands,” the human demanded. “Or you’ll be wearing gloves the next three days.” 

Tommy went sheet white, rigid to the point of breaking. Halo gave him an odd look, awkward but politely sympathetic if utterly confused. He looked to the observation window. “I’m, erm, guessing that’s some type of punishment?” Tommy nodded, relieved someone understood. But of course Halo would, hadn’t held out for years against the Foundation’s demands? 

It was his kindness that betrayed him. Halo bent to his level, hand outstretched. “Well alright then. Don’t want that happening of course! It’s okay, just do what they say.” He didn’t understand what was about to happen. Tommy did, though. But Tommy had made this choice before. It was easier afterwards, took a little less coercion each time once you’d crossed that threshold. He knew he was selfish, prioritizing himself over other’s lives, but once you made that choice you made it again, and again, and again. 

He swallowed the lump of guilt in his throat. “I’m sorry,” Tommy shoved it out fast like that was any type of salvation. Tentatively, he reached for Halo’s talons, grasping firmly. 

The executor shook hands with his weapon. Crimson seeped from their joined grasp. 

Halo’s friendly smile dropped. This close, Tommy could make out the sharp fangs hidden amidst white glow. The demon stalked past to the chained prisoners, sharp words ringing out. Condemnation hissed out, giving way to shouts, to anger, to violence. 

Tommy was told that the D-Class deserved it. Death row inmates, the vilest of humanity. Tommy’s arms wrapped around himself, frenzied scarlet curling around, spreading, exacerbating. Halo’s snarls gurgled through thick viscera, visceral ripping noises rending the humans apart. The Foundation said they deserved it, just like they said Tommy deserved to wear gloves when he disobeyed or get hit whenever he wouldn’t stop talking, begging, screaming. He kept his back carefully to the unfolding slaughter, eyes squeezed shut. Pretending he couldn’t hear the ragged howls of agony. 

Pretending he couldn’t hear the way Halo started to sob the moment the bloodlust faded.

.

The air was dusty as Tommy climbed into the abandoned hayloft, clambering over to where Tubbo perched. His nose wrinkled, still unused to all the various smells of the outside world. It was still startling how much world was in the world, overwhelming at times but exhilarating always. 

Tommy scooted over to sit as close to Tubbo as he dared, distance carefully calculated to keep them safe. His legs swung back and forth over the edge of the loft, his friends scattered below, happy and free. 

Tubbo waved at him, looking excited. There was a strange intentionality to the gesture, exaggerated. But Tommy couldn’t blame them for that. He wasn’t a stranger to pretending everything was normal. The escape was…rough, to put it mildly, let alone the horrors of the Foundation. It felt nice to laugh even if it was a tad forced at times. But it made the next one easier, so it had to be worth it. 

“Give us your hands.” 

Red spasmed along his arms. Tommy leaned away, unpleasant memories flickering in his head. Given the fact that Tubbo was unique (a word which here means ‘made out of hundreds of thousands of bees’), Red didn’t work traditionally. Mostly, it resulted in pure self-destruction. Tommy shuddered to remember the way Tubbos’ skin tore apart as frenzied insects slaughtered themselves. Not something he was in a hurry to repeat. 

“No, it’ll explode your hands,” Tommy said, not knowing that was exactly what Tubbo wanted. 

They gave him a sweet smile, half crooked. “It’ll be fine, Tommy. We won’t get Red’d, we just want to compare our hands. Our grandpa always said big hands meant you were going to grow up to be tall, kinda like puppy paws.”

Tommy scoffed. “Well I already know I’m going to be massive, and anyway it’s not worth the risk.” 

“We’ll be careful. But if you think ours are that much bigger, that’s fair. You still only have kid hands after all~”

“No! I’m basically an adult! Just…hold still, I guess…” Tommy approached cautiously, still conflicted but splaying ruby fingers out to match their own hand. The fingers shook a little from the tension poured through them, little curls of Red unfurling off the back of his hand like sprouts poking through topsoil. Tubbo slipped their own close, lining up the newly finished digits to match the angle of his. Tommy’s fingers were longer than their own, stockier, his palms broader. They hovered closer and closer, shrinking the gap. “Hah! See! I told you. Um, that’s close enough, I think.”

“We can see from a bunch more angles than you can, Tommy. We’ll know if it's too close.” He flashed a nervous smile, but trusted Tubbo. Still, it felt wrong to tempt himself like this. It took just about everything he had to not lace their fingers together and pull his best friend into a tight hug. Just…hold Tubbo, feel the buzzing warmth of life and the purr of bees working within their hollow body. 

A quiet cage around his heart forbade him from ever reaching out. Tommy couldn’t touch almost anyone in the entire world. It felt near suffocating at times to yearn for something regardless of how disastrous Tommy knew the consequences would be. 

It didn’t occur to Tommy that some people welcomed disaster. 

Tommy’s fingers curled in slightly, unconsciously wanting to close around Tubbos’. Closer, closer, till they were almost touching…

.

“I’ve done some really, really awful things, Phil.” But it didn’t stop Philza’s arm from wrapping around his back and drawing Tommy in. If he were honest, he didn’t want it to. Tommy melted into the embrace for all that he didn’t deserve it. 

“I know,” Philza murmured, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That doesn’t mean you’re evil. The world isn’t heroes and villains, Tommy.” 

“Okay then I’m a bad guy.” Philza rolled his eyes. “I mean with a power like this what else could I be? I’m a baddie. A wrongun. A ‘malignant, misbegotton ne’re-do-well of a knave’–” Tommy sang, rattling off the old man insults Philza sometimes fell into when he got angry and forgot what century it was. 

“Stop deflecting and give me your hands,” Philza interjected. Tommy griped at him for being rude, but relented easily. Philza cupped Tommy’s hands in his own, reverent almost. 

“If you’re going to try to say there isn’t really blood on my hands don’t even m̷͙̞̈͋ư̵͍̬̒͝ͅf̶̡͉̽f̶͇̬͌í̵̻͇̺n̵̛̛̠ing try it. We both know that’s a lie.” Red spasmed, tendrils looping around Philza’s talons. 

“But your hands aren’t evil. They are simply hands. Red is the exact same. Power doesn’t possess its own morality, that’s up to the weilder. Your power isn’t evil, and neither are-”

“For you, maybe. Anyone else and it’s just brainwashing bloodlust.” He’d been stupid for ever thinking he could save anyone. 

“You can have precautions without having terror.”

“I can’t control it. I’ve tried so, so hard, and I just can’t. All it’s done is ruin my life.”

“The Foundation did that, not the Red, and most certainly not you. Surviving doesn’t make you evil.” Philza lifted Tommy’s hand, brushing a kiss against his knuckles. “I hope one day you can find love for every part of yourself.”

[albatris]

Hemlo I was on the bus today and was wondering about how darling Alexis was turned into a vampire can you shed some light on this perhaps maybe :)???

Hiii!!

Ya absolutely I can shed some light on this! But I'm afraid it's a pretty depressing series of events :c poor sweet darling Alexis Anders

Here is a short but tragic answer, and then a lil about what immediately follows, tw for brief talk of suicidality, coercion and animal death -

Alex was turned entirely by accident. wrong place wrong time :c

When it was 17 it was attacked by a starving vampire, one who was confused and alone n had been struggling not to hurt anyone, a schoolteacher named Amanda Fies. There was no thought behind the attack, it was just a total loss of control

A hunter stepped in before Amanda could drain Alex (Zeke's old mentor - hi Niamh!) and killed Amanda thus "saving" Alex. Truth be told, she was absolutely about to move on to killing Alex next, knowing it would turn due to its injuries. However, people showed up before she could finish the job and were all like "aaa we heard screaming oh my god that child is bleeding someone call an ambulance", so Alex was whisked away to hospital instead to deal with its blood loss and wounds

Alex dealt with the usual onset of symptoms - sunlight sensitivity, intrusive thoughts, paranoia, isolation, sensory overload, sudden bloodlust - and turned around a week later, when it accidentally killed [REDACTED] who it considered a friend and mentor and who was only there to try and help :c Whole thing is very sad and awful, Alex had a big ol' crisis about it of course and carries a severe amount of guilt, it was a terrible thing to have to go through

Alex spends its early vampire days confused and alone, all the while Niamh is attempting to track down this mystery kid she didn't get a chance to kill. She eventually catches up with Alex a few weeks later, after it had spent some time feeding on animals to try and keep from harming humans

Niamh sits and talks with Alex for a bit, and gently explains that while it can subsist on animal blood for a while, it can't survive solely on animal blood and eventually it will cave to its thirst and kill a human, and it doesn't want that, right? After all, the fact that it's even trying to live off animal blood and is willing to sit and have a civil conversation with a hunter proves it's one of the Good Ones, anyone can see that, smile? Doesn't it want to be a good person and not a monster? Doesn't it understand the only good and moral and kind thing it can do is die? Come on, it won't hurt at all, Niamh is very good with a knife, and this is The Only Right Thing To Do, Alex Knows That, Right?

So um. Yes Niamh very politely but VERY aggressively tries to persuade Alex to just peacefully let her murder it and Alex very nearly listens to her, but its nerve breaks at the last minute, possibly due to its heightened vampiric instinct for self-preservation kicking into overdrive, or possibly just because Alex is a frightened confused kid who doesn't want to die, n Alex bolts

Alex more or less abandons its entire life and skips town shortly after, scared of being tracked down by Niamh again or hurting the ones it loves. Vanishes without a trace as best it can. Then we reach the parts of Alex's story that I've already talked about, where it hops from place to place and attempts to only feed on Bad People and Criminals (and struggles with this because hardly any of the humans Alex can actually access are Bad and Criminals for funsies :c), then it goes to the wilderness for a while and tries to fight god, then it meets Quinn, yada yada

But uhhh yeah!!! yeah the tale of Alex turning is not a fun one unfortunately :(((

But!!! Of course 30-year-old Alex is in a much better place!! even if it still has a lot of work to do with its mental health!! Young Alex has a rough go of it but it's not all doom and gloom I promise

I will let the lad be happy <3333

[yukkoislost]

oky um, my new au's?

[I'm gonna say the au names and then the ideas with them and everything]

Murderous Mental State Thad and Uzi reach a bad mental state from really extreme bullying and so they just decide to listen to all their intrusive thoughts and do some gunshots

Opposite AU The fun cute stuff where the characters have personalities pretty opposite to canon. Uzi is more just a nature lover and is pretty popular, while N has less empathy and more rule following.

Secret Snipers AU [I have no art of this au yet, sad] The DD's have to become proffesional snipers since the worker drones can fight back even better each time they had done mass attacks

Glitch Inn au! So a fun idea with a MD x TADC crossover since I don't know the other characters in other shows Glitch has made. I have two posts about it now.

Early Concept AU Just using the designs from concept art. Like all the J's

Racing AU [not a official name] N is a popular racer along with J and V as his buddies. He's dating Uzi, the one who waves the flags in all games she attends

Daycare AU [might turn into a official name] So you know about those really old Minecraft roleplays with babies from the main roleplay of the channel it's on? So just everyone is adorable babies because it's fucking fun

and my favorite new one I'm working on Rulers and Dragons A princess and a dragon take over a kingdom, so Princess Uzi decides to go attack them to help the kingdom. Though the princess and dragon are a lot more lighthearted in their intents

DANG THATD A LOT

sounds Iike fun !!! not the intrusive thoughts 😰

[messinwitheddie]

Dipper "Thank you for your time, Nny and for not trying to brutally murder any of us. I'm sure it was tempting."

Nny "It took every last shred of willpower I have. Nothing personal. You're ok as...people go. I just hate people-- in general. I know I shouldn't and I'm a terrible person for it, but-."

Dipper "All good, I do too. I mean, I hate being around people. Er, well, not even so much that, I just...I'm just awkward around people."

Nny "Yeah."

Dipper "Speaking of which, sorry for... how horribly everything went tonight. And uh, I'm so sorry about Grunkle Stan too. We're used to him and all his... Stan-ness, but-."

Nny "You don't have to keep apologizing for him. As excruciating as this whole experience was for me, I'm glad I went along with it. It was nice reconnecting... sort of. Stan was--is the WORST and I hate him, but, he's also the best and I don't. Never tell him I said that."

Dipper "I won't. "

Nny "When he told me why he was taking off I thought he was just messing with me or making fun of me like he always did. Then when he actually disappeared for Oregon I was so angry and hurt, I completely blocked him out of my mind for YEARS. Oh well. I highly doubt things would have ended better for me had he stayed or had I left with him. Still.... Guess the good memories are the most painful sometimes."

Dipper "I really REALLY wish he hadn't crashed our seance, but I'm glad I got to talk to him again. We really miss that crotchety old sociopath."

Nny "I did too. Don't EVER tell him I said that either."

Dipper "I know your time in this plane is almost up, so again, thank you for agreeing to this interview."

Nny "To be very clear, I DID NOT agree to be interviewd. This was a favor for Squ-- Todd. I didn't appreciate being summoned especially in the middle of summer. I didn't appreciate stumbling into a half dozen strangers setting up two studios and a small lab's worth of equipment in my living room. I didn't appreciate Todd putting me on the spot. I DID NOT enjoy a single moment of this."

Dipper "I know; you mentioned this many times tonight."

Nny "Ok then, so you understand there will be no follow up interview for any reason whatsoever. Don't summon me again unless it is of DIRE importance. At least never here again. My old house depresses me. Do you understand?"

Dipper "Yes. I'm deeply sorry for any intrusion and I promise we will NEVER disturb you again."

Nny "This is an extremely unlikely scenario because once we're "dead" again I plan to ditch him in a black hole or something at some point, but... if you ever summon Stan on Halloween or Summerween or whatever and I'm within range, could you extend the invite? I wouldn't mind a tour of the Mystery Shack."

Dipper "Really?"

Nny "Yeah, at least one visit to settle my curiosity. If it's half the fever dream nightmare-scape the Mystery Hut was, it will be worth all the painstaking social interaction. That, and it's a relief to see Todd surrounded by friends and family worth having. He always deserved better company than me."

Dipper "Oh DUDE, we're definitely dragging you through a tour on Halloween!"

Nny "Sshshshshshhh! Don't announce it to everyone. Come on."

Dipper "My bad. You're going to have a BLAST, Nny. We'll try to keep the guest list short for you."

Nny "Thank you."

Dipper "So um, do you have any questions for us or me before you go?"

Nny "... *sighs* OK. I'll bite. Why do they call you "Dipper", Dipper?"

Dipper *brushes back his hair, exposing birthmark*

Nny "Whu-? OHhhhh... Neat! I was expecting to hear some stupid frat boyish sex joke."

For context: Dialogue to an 18-years-later au flashback where a 21-year-old Squee supervises a 17-year-old Dib and Dipper's first ghost hunting team up.

Maybe if I spew out enough small scenes from my head I can make a coherent story out if this.

[fictionkinfessions]

(Warning: Uhhh mentions of murder? Except idk if it's real? It's complicated idfk)

Hey, so I've been meaning to post this for a while, but I just didn't, for whatever reason. Oh well! I'm posting it now.

I'm gonna be complete honest: I have no idea whether or not I've actually killed anyone in my canon. I mean, I think I'm meant to be a serial killer in my actual source (though quite frankly that doesn't make a lot of sense since I'm canonically 17?), but I also have psychosis in my canon, which causes me to have delusions, hallucinations, and intrusive thoughts. It's honestly really hard to tell what's real and what's not in this canon because of it.

In that case, if I have killed anyone, um... sorry about that? I don't know what to say. Clearly I was in a pretty fucked-up headspace. Again, I'm not sure whether I actually have or if it's just my psychosis talking, but I wanted to apologize just in case.

That's all, I guess. I hope I didn't hurt anyone :(

-Lucian Abbot (Really Introverted Producer) (#🖤🔪🍬)

[ultimateplaylistmaker]

While K1B0 was doing his thing, Tsumugi was busy with her own thing. Getting people for this killing game. She had the perfect candidates: Her own classmates. Who else would you use, after all? One by one, she'd ask them about their interests, potential executions and if they were an Ultimate, what they're Talent would be. It's nothing too crazy, they all thought. Just the ramblings of a fan who wanted to make content.

Kaito: Uh, I've always like space, so I guess I could be an Ultimate Astronaut.

Tsumugi: I see!

Kaito: ...Can I head out now? I kinda have a doctor's appointment.

Tsumugi: Of course!

Inner-mugi: An illness could be very good for views...

A part of her wondered why she was doing this so easily. But each time that small voice came up, it was immediately drowned out by the sound of her other voice. Intrusive thoughts, if you may. She's plain, almost non-existent to them. Why should she care? Just think of the audience, the views! Bringing the biggest medium for entertainment in the world into reality! None of them really liked her, anyway. And she felt the same to them. She never had a friend group, so she kinda faded into the background.

And those voices...it was all the voices of the DR characters, encouraging her, telling her that she could do it. Even Junko was cheering her on.

Maki: Um... could I be the Ultimate Child Caregiver?

Tsumugi: Huh? But with that murderous gaze of yours, you'd fit well with an Assassin Talent!

Maki: M-Murderous gaze? I thought I got rid of that...

Oh, Maki. Sweet, innocent, yet cursed with a he that could kill. Not to mention she has problems getting her feelings across to those she likes. Despite that, she dreams of a simple, fluffy life with a person and having children.

What a joke. Your love would probably die. In fact...

Tsumugi: Well, okay. Child caregiver it is!

I'll just have that be a cover, and make your more undesirable traits more prevalent! As for who you'd love....

Tsumugi's thoughts kept moving as she got their bios down, adding her own twists to it all. She's the writer, she can make whatever cruel changes as she pleases! The ever dominant Miu could be a spineless coward, Gonta could have an odd way of speaking, Angie would obsess over Atua to the point of it being annoying, and Korekiyo...well, she has it out for him personally. Kirumi....well, as lazy as she was, she always wanted to see how beautiful she'd look in a maid outfit, so she's going to be a dutiful maid! Ryoma? He had a girlfriend.

Inner-mugi: I don't have anything personal towards you, Ryoma, but the fact you've boasted about it for weeks is really annoying! So.... how about some jail time?

Was it petty for no reason? Yes. But Junko doesn't need a reason, so why should she?

Little did she know, Rantaro was watching her a little, and getting confused.

Rantaro voice: Tsumugi have you considered therapy

Tsumugi voice: shut up Rantaro

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Interdimensional Therapy AU - Part 3

A Jeanist crossover fic by me and @laughteronsilverwings

Previous part || Next part

Starts with s!Jeanist as usual and switches pov with the ‘-’

TW: very light talk of murder, please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

-

Uh. Well. How was he supposed to, like- tell Jean that oh yeah, someone tried to kidnap me for my quirk, and i killed him, dismantled the thing he was in charge of, did all the authority, and had to invent a underground hero that was actually me who took credit for it and then i faked the death of said hero but also kept some of the properties and money the original guy who tried to kidnap me had? 

“Well,” He says slowly. “It’s… kinda a long story.” Also not the only one, but it was the most recent and biggest. Tsunagu’s first faked papertrail had been when he was… seven? Eight? Around that age. He’d had help, but it had been a mess. “So a few months ago, someone tried to kidnap me because of my quirk -our quirk?- and to hold me ransom. I also got rid of him, kinda like you-” Very good job sidestepping the murder so far. “-and may or may not have. Uh. Sort of stolen his property and resources and… yeah.” 

He shrugs. “It took a bit of work, but I still have some of the stuff now.” 

And drugs. So, so, so many quirk-related drugs. Tsunagu wasn’t sure why he’d had that much, but hey. He wasn’t complaining about easy money. 

He’d also dodged lying, but he also hadn’t been honest, either. Tsunagu’s avoiding-the-question-and-not-answering-it skills were top-notch. 

-

“A few months ago, you say.” Tsunagu hummed in thought. “Well, I mean, kudos to you for all that! At least you got something out of it, huh?”

‘Got rid of him’ He repeated in his head. There was a feeling that told him the way Arcane ‘got rid of him’ wasn’t exactly something he wanted to mention. Driving him away? Possible. Blackmail? Probably could’ve been…Murder? Well…also possible- but Tsunagu wasn’t about to mentally accuse his younger alternate self of murder, now was he? That would be a tiny bit hypocritical.

He cleared his throat and tilted his head at Arcane. “Well- I guess it’s your turn to ask a question!”

-

Hm. What… did Tsunagu want to ask Jean, anyway? Oh, wait- he said he’d done a favor for the HPSC, right? Well. That- maybe different things happens here, with them?

There’d probably be no harm in asking. “You said you’d done a favour with the HPSC before, right? In the Paris governmental official story. What was it about?” He asks, setting his elbows on Jean’s table and propping his head up on his hands 

Tsunagu’s actually very interested in this. If the HPSC was kidnapping kids here, and murdering people they didn’t like, like they did in his ‘verse, and with some measure of conditioning said kids.. well. He wouldn’t judge Jean. Tsunagu hasn’t done anything like that, but he also doesn’t really care. So. Meh.

-

“Ah-” Tsunagu almost choked on air. He said that?? Oh FUCK-

There were many thoughts rushing through Tsunagu’s head right now, one was ‘oh shit oh shit oh shit-’ another was ‘this is bad- murder is bad- right? We know that, right?’ and closely followed by ‘FUCK!’.

“Well- um, so- yeah…most of this is very intensely confidential, so I can’t say much but-”

“Oh.” Arcane cocks his head. “Don’t worry. We can trade- I’ll tell you something after you tell me this. Mutually assured destruction.” He pauses. “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. And we’re from different worlds and they’ve both got divergence points, so…” He shrugs. “Probably won’t mean much.” 

Tsunagu lets out a cross between a grumble and an extended squeak - which he didn’t know he could do - and flopped his head onto the table, earning a loud thump. “Yeah… that’s true… I guess we’re already here now anyway, huh?” He lifted his head up and sighed. “Still need to restrict what I say, though.” He tried to subtly hint at the intrusiveness of the hpsc, both in Japan and over here. Always listening.

Arcane straightens up. “Bugs? Listening devices? Do they have someone following you? I mean, if they did, then they’d probably think you either got vaporized or teleported. If you wanted to fake your death now, you could probably do it… though, maybe not, if the France HPSC has eyes on you. And this apartment too, I guess.” 

Tsunagu nodded. Faking his death would be fun, yes, but not so practical at this time. Especially with his current affairs with the HPSC back home. “Well, let’s just say that having a foreigner who’s closely tied with the commission in both places… well- it leads to some… favours being done and trading of various things happening.” He paused, keeping a watchful eye out the window. “I took care of some… troubling affairs between some heroes and governing officials… that is all I shall say.” 

-

Jean is in a lot more shady, high-level, government-type things than Tsunagu thought he was. He very sincerely hopes that these things do not happen to him. No offense to Jean, but, well, Tsunagu loathes being under anybody’s thumb. There will be no ‘dog of xxx’ here, thank you very much.

Also, Jean feels like a nice person- and Tsunagu’s getting the vibes that he’s being pressured into doing things. 

“So you… disposed of people?” He asks, genuinely curious. Tsunagu hasn’t committed official premeditated murders. All of his ones have been bounties. “No, not disposed of. Quieted, probably.” Heroes and government officials. But why would he do that? From his earlier comment -it was something like ‘people in power ‘helping’ people always ends badly’-, Jean seems pretty disillusioned about how power works, in some places. 

Most government places here, let’s be real. So. Why? And how? Tsunagu catches him looking out the window, and reaches out his quirk to check for wires and the fancy fabric. “I can’t sense anyone listening, don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Jean turned back around to face him with a serious expression. “A little advice: don’t trust the senses only. I’ve learned that the hard way here.”

Hm. That’s true- different dimensions, maybe different suits. And Jean probably had a different component to the sensing part of his quirk. “True. But I’m pretty sure our quirk-fiber-sense thing is… different. What does yours feel like? How much range do you have? How do you sense using it? Ah- you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, it’s your turn to ask.” Tsunagu settles back down into the chair, relaxing a little bit. 

But only a little bit. Eyes and ears everywhere, after all. He’d learnt this… not the hard way. Through books, stories, and theater camp. There had been a week where everyone acted as someone else, had a secret, and- it had been very fun! Also very informative. 

- 

Hm. What Arcane had said was true, their senses were most likely different. But that doesn’t change the fact that his previous experiences had taught him to not even trust himself. Not like he did anyway.

“Well… my sense expands depending on my focus and experience in controlling it. When I was around your age, I had less control and experience and therefore when I wanted to utilise my sense, my range was weak- but at all other times, I could feel everything within a few miles radius.” He broke off, looking back out the window. This time, just simply to look at the city. “But now, after so much training and learning from a-”

Ah. 

Could he say friend? Right now, when neither of them had spoken, could he call him a friend? He wants to. He wishes he could- screw it, rules don’t apply here. He shall call him a friend for this Alternate-Universe-Him.

“-friend. I can sense the movement of the entire city below us. But if I focus, I can feel each car moving around, the folks on the street, dancing and some fighting- The Eiffel Tower and its… cables- and music!! Winding through the air!” He trailed off, fiddling with his earrings he forgot to take off. “So I guess that makes me not trusting my senses a little silly- but hey! We live in a quirked world, and… so much makes it hard to trust yourself sometimes.” He laughs nervously. “Even if you have another danger sense on top of that sixth sense…”

Tsunagu stops, considering telling Arcane about his ever-so-slightly-too-accurate sense that came from a recessive quirk genetic mutation, that he ignores all the time and is the reason behind most of his trauma and accidental murder…………nah- 

It was Tsunagu’s turn to ask, anyway.

He shook his head. “Anyway- enough of that! A question!! Hmm…” he thought hard. “What about you? Your sense? The HSPC over in your ‘verse… What's it like? Sorry- two questions at once!”

-

“I don’t mind.” It’s only fair. Tsunagu’d asked a few when it wasn’t his turn, so. “My sense… it’s not at all like yours.” And that maybe-possibly-theoretically second, inherent sense Jean probably has. 

(What was with the friend thing, though? There’s a story there. Tsunagu can sense it.) 

He’s not very good at omitting things. Or lying, in general- though Tsunagu’s got a very small sample size, so he can’t judge yet. “Hm. It’s like- eyesight, but through the fabric-sense. It’s not really- I’m not sure how to describe it.” 

It’s like… it would be like describing a color that doesn’t exist. “It’s sort of like- an intuitive knowing, almost. Not like yours- it seems more visual-based, maybe your brain interprets it that way because you’re used to that being the strongest of your senses?” Tsunagu thinks about it. How would he describe the bone-deep knowing of ah, yes, i can pull on that and use it and how different things felt? Leaves, when he’d first developed it, had felt… like the feeling of after a rainstorm. Petrichor, almost, but as a feeling. And then silk had been ozone, thrumming deep in his bones. 

Flesh-fibers were very close to rubber, actually. It was more- movement? Like. A feeling of this thing can move should move MOVE IT, if he holds on too long. Rubber didn’t have that. It was more sticky. “It’s more feeling-based,” Tsunagu ends up going with. “Always in the background, but it’s like- when you put a show on, and it’s background noise, and you don’t acknowledge it. Until you see or hear something that you recognize, and you tune back in.” 

“I can’t sense things the way you do, though. But I have all the fancy suit-textures memorized. No kevlar on my radar other than you and me,” Tsunagu finishes off with. “My range depends on where I’m at. It jumps through the fibers I have available- like… radar pings. It bounces off what I’m nearest, and travels, but the farther away it gets from me the more unreliable it is.” 

It was very weird. It’s not quite like that, but it’s as close as he’s going to get. “And the HPSC… well. Do you check this place for bugs?” Tsunagu considers his options. 

Lie. Lie a little bit. Blur the truth. Not lie. Tell Jean everything, with full uncensored detail. 

…Probably the third one. He’ll imply some things, go heavy on some, and generally fuck it up so that Jean’ll get an idea, but he’ll fill in the blanks by himself. 

-

Wow. Their quirks definitely worked differently. Interesting. Tsunagu’s always loved listening to other people’s quirks and how they worked- but this, being his own but not… strange… but interesting.

Damn. His habit of picking things apart -metaphorically, mentally, and occasionally physically- was showing up again.

“Bugs. Yes.” Tsunagu nodded, pointing over to where the corner of the kitchen counter met the wall. “There are just a few around the entire building, but yeah. They’re here, that’s for sure.”

---------------End Part-----------------

[happilylovingchaos]

Post-ep Thoughts:

As much as I am still ambivalent on my opinion of Michelle, I will say that her coming back to the Hispanic family’s house in Dustin’s neighborhood was a nice thing for her to do. Plus, her previous harassments over the last 3 years must’ve been off-putting enough that even if Dustin didn’t warn any of his neighbors to steer clear of her when she drove by, they figured being bystanders was better than approaching or even hearing her out.

Carlos seemed really done in the lunch talk. He must have really felt like Michelle was reopening and rubbing salt in the wounds when she thought he was being a dick about the blue truck— which, um, NO? Those trauma responses really bounced off each other.

I have some THOUGHTS on first Tarlos sex scene. Not bad ones, I promise I’m not trying to be judgy or prejudiced, but I will still freak out because I have sensory overload and this was a LOT.

The talkers on the 9-1-1 Lone Star Roundup Podcast caught the continuity error first between the scene with Michelle + Owen’s talk featuring rumpled TK in the background, and the sex scene after that (which takes place before TK is seen running into the firehouse).

Pavlov’s Tarlos Response: “Sex and Stardust” by ZZ Ward. Hearing the song the first time on the first viewing, and the curiosity on what the song was/ who made it started my association of it with the passionate sex. On this rewatch, I was better able to watch the sex with a level head, but this remains one of the sure-fire ways to fluster me. Plus there may be at least one of these music moments per season.

… Just out of interest, you two, I wonder if you’ve practiced sex with any ex-partners/ flings?

TK, even a shrug on the way out would be more of a proper response than that non-response.

2 out of the 3 calls, mind you, took digs on white insecurity and racism respectively. If Carlos had been on that call with Ellen I don’t want to imagine how much more restraint he’d have to show to her than the murderous food courier (but if he’d carried the handcuffs he would use those on her instead of zip ties).

Holy crap, one more reason for me to not use food delivery.

I’m more for calling Paul’s “thing” the “Strickland Sense.” Has a flow to it.

Jim Parrack continues to deliver— his initial pushback against the meditative breathing and re-remembering the factory explosion, then the second try at home, at night… this. This is how it is to live with PTSD or intrusive thoughts.

TSP: Five days at least, ten and a half days in February 2019 at most. A lot of the cuts between scenes and plot developments make keeping track of time hard, and especially the time between TK running into the station for his shift and his (likely 40-minutes-prior) hookup— but if we’re going by order of events in the episode proper, I thought of this order: Start of Owen’s hair crisis —> Mercury delivery call (which I could infer takes place in afternoon, since by close on nighttime the arrest proper happens)—> 1st onscreen Tarlos hookup —> Judd’s therapy session —> Judd and Owen’s talk (with Carlos and Michelle’s lunch break happening in-between) —> Ellen the not-so-sweet racist call —> Michelle’s curandera visit —> OH THE VERY MARKETABLE HORROR OWEN (/s) sleepless night —> Conspiracy theorist call —> Tarlos’ 1st failed dinner date —> Judd’s at-home therapy practice —> Ranch visit —> Michelle’s tea bath and money offering —> Owen’s “Yee-Haw”.

Episode 1x02 Yee-Haw Discussion Thread

Please feel free to use the comment thread and tags of this post throughout the week as a place to liveblog while watching the episode, discuss with friends, post your metas and thoughts etc. Anything you’d like to discuss while watching the episode is welcome!!

Please reblog this post for visibility!! 

[maigo-san]

filling out the rest of the rentan ask game 🔥🎴!

⚔️ - More importantly, did you cry when Rengoku… yknow… died lol

at first no, I was too stunned. I really thought it was a jinx. But then the next watch I cried buckets.

❄️ - what are your feelings about Akaza? Was he an effective villain in the story? Do you like him in AUs?

at first I didn't like his introduction. It's so sudden, there's barely any foreshadow or hints. He's obviously not just some demon, he's UM 3. But then I realized that it made sense from Kyoujurou's pov. Upper Moon or not, a demon is a demon to Kyou and unlike Tan, whatever sob story behind these villains, it didn't matter to Kyou. All he needed was to protect everyone. He's definitely effective considering Kyou's death made a lot of people sad and even though I wish that his story didn't overshadow Tan's avenge fight scene in the final arc, it's not that bad.

Do you like him in AUs? I feel neutral about it. I don't usually include him in AUs cuz he's just really different from Kyou and Tan. He does martial art, and they do swords. Maybe they were in the same school like in kimegaku but they have very different social circles.

Though I feel Hakuji and Tanjirou can get along pretty okay or that Hakuji might find Tanjirou's profoundness aggravating (like in the canon) but unlike in canon, they're not conditioned to fight with each other, so Tan is unfazed and Hakuji will just feel stupid with himself. They both have similar struggles too, so maybe they were part-time co-workers. Or just seniors and juniors that know each other and maybe Hakuji won't feel embarrassed about borrowing Tan's money since Tan knows how it feels to be broke.

Also, they're both just simple dudes who simp their s/os and I always find it funny thinking abt an awkward hakukoyu-rentan double date. Koyuki and Tanjirou will definitely get along, but I can just imagine Hakuji making snarky remarks about Kyoujurou or how he keeps bringing up that time Kyoujurou declines his offer to try martial art and making jabs about kendo being a stupid sport. And Tan gets to see a rare Kyou smiling wide like he's about to murder someone.

🍠 - what are your opinions on the Rengoku family, and how Kyojuro was raised?

HOOO BOY. The Rengokus fucked an already good family and I feel so bad for them. They could not gatekeep flame breathing but they did. Whether it's intentional or not, it's been planted throughout generations and even Senjurou knows. That's why he's been weighed by that.

I know both Kyoujurou and Senjurou are victims in this but we can't forget Shinjurou too. The Rengokus are known to be loyal and kind-hearted but it's also a wonder how just now, just when Shinjurou got driven into alcoholic madness we decided to address it (plot reasons I know, I'm being hyperbolic). But it's always interesting to explore. I'm sure it's not just him that had wished they could break this cycle of curse. That wished they don't have to be a demon slayer for once.

Though, I feel like they're only wishes and nobody really made a move. It's probably why the records made it seem like Yoriichi was some legend or that no breathing style can ever be at the same level as sun breathing and that they're all just going to fight demons until the end of their lives since The Chosen One is dead. I don't know

Maybe that was Shinjurou's intrusive rage talking or maybe it is something the other Rengokus had always believed in. After all, Kyou also had never wanted anything other than having a tsuguko or dreamed about anything else other than demon slaying.

But anyway

yes, Kyou

Honestly, I feel satisfied whenever I read about a cutting generational trauma and though it's tragic, Kyoujurou's nuclear family saved the rest of the Rengokus.

A part of me thinks that Kyou drives himself to the limit also as a response to his father but it's really just something he knows what to do. So even if Shinjurou retired honorably, Kyou will still do what he does. That's all he had known to be and Ruka had only implemented that but I have a feeling that they had always married someone who has that personality and similar mindset.

He technically grew up as "planned", as in he carries the values the previous Rengokus still hold along with his mother, but I also like how Kyou grew up seeing the crack in their perfect model portrait. He saw how broken his father had become and I believe that's how he became such a down-to-earth Hashira and how he didn't pester Senjurou to be the next Flame Hashira.

That's all though. I think these four are really lovely.

I have a headcanon that Senjurou inherited Shinjurou's critical side and Kyoujurou inherited Ruka's crafty and creative side instead. That's why Senjurou did so well in housekeeping and Kyoujurou has an out-of-the-box almost theatrical way of teaching history.

🪨 - what are your opinions on the Kamado family, and how Tanjiro was raised?

I feel gtg almost always sees them as one entity when in reality it's not. It makes me feel that Tanjirou is a dad of six with Kie occasionally chiming in.

Though Tanjuurou's death was quite recent from Muzan's visit, I know Tanjirou sold charcoal even before Tanjuurou died since he had been ill for quite a while so yes, Tanjirou probably replace his role sooner than anyone expected.

I know Tanjirou mostly seeks guidance from Tanjuurou and Kie is the one who's often in Nezuko's dream instead but it only emphasizes more about how TanNezu has been parenting the younger siblings lol

I wish they were more explored like the Rengokus (and promoted) because they're literally TanNezu's support. Despite everything, I love the parents' connection with TanNezu. I wish we know more about Tanjuurou and Kie like Shinjurou and Ruka, so I headcanon because Tanjuurou makes Kie concerned because of his very peaceful nature, and that worry turns to love and Tanjurou saw how good of a person Kie was and decided to marry her. It made sense, she's the one with the armor forehead.

I want to know how Tanjuurou was when he's young (Tan really looks like him post-canon tf), maybe he got that easygoingness from Suyako (Sumiyoshi's wife)'s side instead lol

I also love love love the younger siblings my goooddd... they have so much potential and I love their various personalities. Tsun-tsun Takeo, Hanako and Shigeru are the perfect example of middle child lol, and then little Rokuta who probably sees Tan more like a dad than a brother and maybe in another universe grow up the most similar to Tanjurou or Tanjirou. idk

Just a fun thing to think about.

🗑️ - just tell us everything you love about Shinjuro

💀 oh old man

I love every single strand of leg hair you own, your perfect skrunkly frown, I don't love the way you hit Senjurou but the way you beat Tan is so satisfying, (especially in the stage play lmfao, that actor really went for it), and the way you ruin Kyoujurou's mood every single time. I also love the way they made him wear an undershirt after he's sober 🙏 literally saint-ified lmfao

I think that's all! It's been really fun. The questions are really interesting.

[whiteqnn]

PURE [4] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

A/N: I’m back. Shout-out to my sister @mojajasnoscmrokirozproszy , who encouraged me into finishing this part.

part 1 

part 2 

part 3 

part 5

PURE [4] 

Corpse was confused, to say the least. He stared at the screen with his brows furrowed, not exactly understanding what just happened, or what caused Y/N to leave so suddenly. He thought they were all having fun, or at least that’s the impression Y/N gave while interacting with other players. 

Was she just pretending she’d had fun when in reality, she didn’t want to spend time with them? 

He knew it was none of his business. They didn’t even know each other, outside of these two short games they’ve both been part of. But Corpse was quick to get attached to new people, and Y/N’s sweet voice, her innocent demeanor, and pure personality made him instantly like her... 

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly a good thing that he felt so worried when she left, given the fact that two of them have spoken maybe for a few minutes since they met each other. But Corpse couldn’t help it, and certainly couldn’t stop this weird feeling that something was wrong and that he needed to make sure that Y/N was okay. After all, he was the only one who knew that she left. Except for his audience, of course. 

So the moment her white little astronaut suddenly disappeared, Corpse went on a killing spree. He didn’t even care about that whole finish my lyrics thing he decided to terrorize his friends with, he just wanted to finish this game and check on Y/N. It was obvious that she wasn’t telling the truth. Even though it looked like she was trying really hard to contain her emotions, he could still hear her quavering voice. It was too hard to hide, and he knew it firsthand. That’s why he made it his point to at least check on her.  

“Jesus Corpse, you just went full berserk on us...” Felix murmured when the last person was killed, and Corpse could see a sign victory on his screen. It didn’t make him smile though, not how it usually would. 

“It was great though! Let’s do it again, but maybe on the other map?” Sykkuno suggested, clearly very excited about this hide and seek game they’ve come up with. 

“Sure, let’s get the first one maybe?”

“Actually, would you guys mind if we had a little break?” Corpse asked before they could start another game. “We’ve been playing for a little while now...”

“Ah, yeah! Bathroom break!” came Rae’s response, followed by a few hums of approval. Corpse sighed in relief. He was afraid his worried voice would draw the attention of other players, but they didn’t seem to notice it. 

“All right, is ten minutes good?” asked Sean, and when everyone agreed, Corpse excused himself from his audience and muted his mic. He grabbed his phone and unlocked it, only to be hit by a sudden realization.

He didn’t even have Y/N’s number. 

“Fuck...” he cursed quietly under his breath, running a hand through his hair. How the fuck was he supposed to check on her? He couldn’t use discord, he was still streaming after all... Maybe Twitter would work? Nah, she probably wouldn’t even notice his messages. What was left then?

Of course. 

Sean.

Corpse didn’t even think about any explanation as he quickly typed in a message to the said man, asking if he had Y/N’s number. The response came almost immediately. 

“Yeah, I have. Why?” 

Okay, now what? He couldn’t just tell him what happened. Corpse knew that Sean and Y/N were close, but he felt like it wouldn’t be fair towards the girl if he told Sean what happened. Maybe she didn’t want anyone to know... Maybe she didn’t want to speak to anyone. 

Him included. 

But Corpse felt as if he had to do it because that was something he wished someone would do for him if the roles were reversed. To at least show that he cared, that she wasn’t alone with whatever it was that bothered her... 

Was he being intrusive, for wanting to make sure that everything was okay? And what if she was totally fine and he’d just end up making a complete fool out of himself?

“Not that I haven’t already made a fool out of myself...” he mumbled under his breath, his fingers quickly typing the response to Sean. However, before he could finish it, the said man’s name appeared on his screen with an upcoming call. 

It was so unexpected that Corpse almost dropped the phone.

“Um, hey man” he said after picking up, his hands trembling as he tried to come up with some good explanation as to why exactly he needed Y/N’s number. “Look I-”

“Does this have something to do with her disappearance?” Sean cut him off, leaving Corpse with his mouth hung open, utterly shocked.  

“I um- no. I just wanted to call her and... cause I don’t have her number...”

“Corpse, I heard what she had told you...” Sean sighed into the phone “I was flying around you after you murdered me.”

“I...” Corpse tried once again and again found himself at the loss of words. His brows furrowed suddenly as he realized something “Wait- are you still streaming?” 

“I left for a moment to grab something to drink and call Y/N. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say anything on the stream.” 

Corpse sighed in relief. If Sean managed to somehow play it off, then his fans maybe haven’t figured out what was going on. He didn’t want them to attack Y/N’s social media with tons of questions she obviously wouldn’t answer. 

“Do you know what happened?” Corpse asked quietly, hoping that maybe Sean knew something more that would ease his nerves. He hoped that it wasn’t anything serious, that maybe Y/N just had a bad day. “She left so suddenly and I got a little worried...” 

For a moment there was silence between the two of them, Corpse impatiently awaiting an answer and Sean thinking about the right words... or wondering whether he should tell him the reason for Y/N’s disappearance in the first place. 

“It’s- ugh.” Sean groaned, before letting out a heavy sigh “It stays between us, all right? I don’t want others to start texting her out of nowhere, asking if she’s okay. She would probably kill me.”

“Yeah, absolutely” Corpse nodded his head rapidly, even though Sean couldn’t see him. 

“Okay... So I don’t know the exact reason of her disappearance...” he began, and Corpse felt his heart sink in disappointment. “But I have some suspicion.”

“Can you be a little more specific, Sean? We don’t have much time before the next game...” Corpse didn’t want to sound rude but he was slowly growing impatient, and even more nervous when he still wasn’t able to check on Y/N and make sure that she’s okay.

“She received lots of hate after our last stream.” Sean finally explained, although his voice sounded quite reluctant. “And when I say lots, I mean lots, Corpse.”

“What?” Corpse grunted, his brows knitted together in confusion “What do you mean?”

“Oh you know, man... Comments on Twitter, on her Instagram, even under her latest video...” Sean let out an exasperated sigh “Apparently, some people are not happy that she’s playing with us.”

“Why?” Corpse managed to utter, completely shocked at the news. For some reason, it was the last thing he expected Sean to say. It didn’t even cross his mind that someone as sweet and polite as Y/N might have to deal with this kind of issue. 

She was always so kind, why would anyone hate on her? 

“You know how some people act online...” Sean murmured, his voice clearly gloomy, as opposed to his usual cheerful tone. “They think she shouldn’t be playing with us cause she’s not popular enough. Some consider her annoying, not funny enough, and so on...”

“What does popularity have to do with who we’re playing with?” Corpse almost growled these words, feeling anger slowly bubbling up in his stomach. He couldn’t comprehend why anyone would act this way towards Y/N, towards this little angel as Sean put it last time they played, towards this sweet, innocent girl, his partner in crime... 

“That’s what I told her before the stream” Sean explained with a sigh “And that she shouldn’t worry about what strangers think of her... but it’s easier said than done.” 

“You think she received another text or something?”

“I don’t know man” Sean sighed “I tried calling her like ten times already and she didn’t answer. It’s not like her to leave so suddenly, without saying goodbye. I’m worried something happened...” 

Corpse clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a second. If Y/N didn’t answer Sean’s calls, why would she answer his? They barely knew each other, while Sean was her best friend.  

“Maybe... I’ll try calling her?” Corpse suggested anyway, his voice low and almost shy. He figured it was worth at least a try. 

Sean was quiet for a moment as if contemplating what to do. They were already running out of time, and Corpse didn’t know what to do. On one hand, he didn’t want to end the stream and leave his fans, he felt bad at the thought alone of disappearing so soon and disappointing them... But on the other, he couldn’t just leave Y/N like that. Especially, since as Sean explained, it wasn’t like her to act this way. It only proved that whatever happened was rather serious.

“Y’know what?” Sean suddenly said “I’ll give you her number, maybe she’ll pick up from you.”

“Thank you, Sean” Corpse said quietly, ready to end the call, only to be stopped by Sean’s words. 

“Look... I know I shouldn’t be asking you to do it, but... could you maybe try talking some sense into her?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable with this request “I feel like you’d be able to calm her down...”

“I...” Corpse stuttered, running a hand through his hair “I’ll try, okay? I’m not sure if she’ll want to talk about it though, I’m basically a stranger, so...”

“Corpse, she agreed to join us only after reading your last tweet.” 

Oh. 

His heart fluttered with something that didn’t seem like growing panic. And even though his face was expressing his worry, his lip corners formed a small, bashful smile. And whether he liked it or not, his cheeks turned completely red.

“I’ll... I’ll see what I can do” he managed to reply, before ending the call. 

Corpse ran a hand through his locks and down his face, releasing a heavy breath he didn’t know he was holding. He considered getting Y/N’s number a difficult task which, however, turned out to be the easiest one. Now came the real challenge. Calling her. 

For a moment, he just stared at the screen of his phone, scanning the new message from Sean, which consisted of Y/N’s phone number. It looked as if he was memorizing the number when in reality, he just felt panic overtaking his body and complete chaos in his mind. 

Let’s say she picks up the phone, and then what? Should he just say hi? Introduce himself? 

“Hi it’s me, the guy you basically don’t know and who became paranoid after you disappeared from the game” 

 Yeah, sure. Perfect introduction for the pep talk he was supposed to deliver. 

Why was it always that he acted almost as if on instinct one second, only to start having second thoughts a moment later. He couldn’t back out now when he had already got her number. Not when there was also another person counting on him. Not when he still didn’t know what the fuck happened, and for some reason was determined to find out. 

And then was the problem of his voice, which suddenly seemed stuck in his throat. It was a very weird feeling, typical for one to get while being on the verge of a panic attack. As if there was a need to talk, but the body refused to. As if his vocal cords were paralyzed and not eager to cooperate. 

As if it was him who just experienced something strongly upsetting, not Y/N. 

Corpse fidgeted with his phone for a moment, before deciding against the idea of calling the girl. He figured he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word if she picked up the phone from the unknown number in the first place. If she did though, she’d probably consider it some misdialed call or some prank. Which was the last thing he wanted her to think.

Instead, he opted on sending her a text. 

He sat still for a moment, thinking about a message that wouldn’t right away reveal the cause of his concern, but which would say enough to figure out who sent it. His thoughts drifted back to the game they were both playing, remembering his stupid comments and her gentle voice. His fingers typed out the message almost automatically. 

“Wanna jump into the lava with me?”

He hesitated just for a second, before sending the text, his heart doing a backflip in his chest the moment he pressed the send button. Corpse gripped the phone tightly in his hands, his eyes staring at the screen and waiting impatiently for those three little dots indicating that the other person is typing a response to appear. He waited and waited, and a lump slowly formed in his throat when Y/N didn’t respond immediately. 

Was he really getting paranoid? 

Maybe he was just tired. Or she had a bad day. Or she just found this game boring.

Or she didn’t want to play with them. Or she thought his comments were annoying. 

“I’m an idiot” Corpse muttered to himself and slapped a hand on his forehead, pushing those thoughts away. Deep down he knew that wasn’t the case, but the longer Y/N didn’t respond, the louder was the voice at the back of his head, telling him that her problems were none of his business and he shouldn’t be asking for her number in the first place.

But it was the right thing to do. He knew it, Sean knew it, and Corpse also hoped that Y/N did not perceive his text as some pathetic joke. He waited for a couple of minutes, before typing another message:

“I’m here, partner, if you need to talk.” 

He felt the need to assure her that despite the ongoing stream and the other players probably already waiting for him to return, he was there for her. That’s what he considered the best option, not to force her into talking, but to let her know that she wasn’t alone. And that it would take just one word from her to make Corpse drop everything and listen to her. 

After what seemed like an eternity of staring at his phone and analyzing his own messages, Corpse put his phone away, realizing that Y/N wasn’t going to reply anytime soon. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed in himself, and guilty as well. Perhaps it would be a better idea to call her, but at that moment he wasn’t able to trust his own voice. He thought about sending her another message but decided against it. Another new text was probably the last thing she needed, with her phone being drowned by hundreds of notifications from angered, and worried fans. 

All Corpse could do was hope that she saw his texts and that she knew she wasn’t all alone. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make her feel as if she was obliged to confide in him. After all, he was a stranger. 

Then again... sometimes to understand a problem and look at it from a different, new perspective, what one needed was, indeed, a complete stranger. 

-

The next two hours felt almost like an eternity. And a complete hell to Corpse. He tried his best to focus on the game and interacting with his fans, but no matter what, his eyes would drift towards his phone every now and then. Hoping to see Y/N’s name pop up on his screen, with a message saying that everything was fine. 

But then again... would it be enough to calm his nerves? Maybe she’d write something like that just so he wouldn’t worry. Just so he would leave her alone.

She might as well just tell him to fuck off...

The fact that he received so many notifications all the time, especially now, during a stream, didn’t really help. Each time his phone lit up with a new notification, he would crane his neck with the hope of seeing Y/N’s response, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be just some new comment or someone tagging him in an instastory. Something that usually made him really happy now was the reason for his irritation. 

He couldn’t focus on the game itself either, finding it difficult to do his tasks and form some logical arguments during discussions. He didn’t really care, to be honest, when people threw him away almost at the start of the game. Winning or being the best Impostor was currently the last thing on his mind.

So when he said his goodbyes after the last round of Among Us and ended the stream, after thanking his fans, Corpse didn’t know what to do with himself. The game, even though he didn’t really pay much attention to it, provided at least some distraction from his phone, which was still silent when it came to Y/N’s texts. She either didn’t see them or didn’t want to see them. Corpse could only guess what was her reaction if there was any. 

He’d exchanged a few messages with Sean though, the man asking about Y/N during the stream and after it ended. Corpse couldn’t stop the guilt from growing even more when Sean expressed his concerns regarding Y/N and her absence. He knew the older streamer counted on him when it came to checking on the girl, but, obviously, he failed at getting a simple message from her. 

What was he even hoping to achieve in the first place? That she will text back right away, telling him everything that bothered her, confessing all her problems? He would have to be a total idiot to expect this girl to react to his messages.

It was all so overwhelming and frustrating at the same time that he felt almost nauseous. 

Leaving his phone in his room, Corpse walked to his small kitchen to grab a glass of water. The cold liquid brought much-needed relief to his burning throat, giving him a momentary sensation of comfort. He tested his voice, clearing his throat carefully and mumbling some nonsense under his breath. A sigh left his lips once he realized he could talk again and this weird feeling disappeared. 

He splashed his face with cold water and returned to his room, plopping down on his chair and giving his phone a quick glance. Perhaps he didn’t expect Y/N to reply to his texts at all because at first, he didn’t even notice her name on the screen of his phone. He looked back to his computer, almost out of habit, glancing between the tabs he had opened on his screen before. 

And it struck him suddenly, making him almost jump out of his skin when he realized that she did text him back. 

Grabbing his phone quickly, he unlocked it and opened the messages, almost hitting the one with Y/N’s name on it. 

“Hey, partner.” was all the message said. And yet it made Corpse’s heart almost jump out of his chest, both from relief and a sudden feeling of panic. 

She texted him back. Now, what the fuck was he supposed to do?! 

He stared at her text for a second as if trying to convince himself that it was real and he didn’t accidentally pass out on his desk, dreaming that Y/N takes his comments and texts seriously. 

When he came to the conclusion that the text was, indeed, real, and Y/N probably expected him to write something back, he thought about the best way of asking her what happened. On one hand, he knew from Sean what could possibly be the reason for her disappearance. On the other, what obviously mattered was Y/N’s version. How to get it out of her though, without being too intrusive?

Corpse decided that the best option will be to make some dumb, small talk, which would ease her (and his) nerves.

“Y’know, I almost didn’t manage to finish the mission without you” he texted her, concluding that playing along this partner thing would maybe work. In his text, Corpse referred to the one time he was the Impostor after Y/N left, and which happened to be completely boring without her running around “Had Toast and others suspecting my every step all the time.”

This time, much to his relief, the three little dots appeared almost immediately.

“I’m glad you managed to kill’em all nevertheless.”

He imagined her saying it with that sweet voice of hers, which made him snicker, whether he liked it or not. While thinking of some right response, Corpse couldn’t help but wonder how did she know that he managed to kill every crewmate during that round... she wasn’t playing anymore then, so that could only mean she watched his stream.

“Not gonna lie though, everything would go way smoother hadn’t my partner in crime left me on the battlefield all alone :/” he texted her back. Corpse watched intently as the three dots danced next to Y/N’s name and suddenly disappeared, then appeared back again after a few moments, only to disappear again. And for a second he panicked, that maybe this text sounded passive aggressive, or that it made Y/N blame herself for leaving the game... 

However, when her response finally came, he realized he was wrong.

“Can I call you, Corpse?” 

For the first time in a really long time, Corpse was so eager to agree on a phone call.

He replied frantically, telling her that of course, she could call him, and then waiting impatiently for the call. And when she didn’t call immediately, like he expected her to, he found himself wondering if she suddenly changed her mind and decided against the idea of calling him. 

But then his phone buzzed and her name appeared on the screen.

The device almost flew out of his hands, his heartbeat quickening and a lump forming in his throat once again.

Relax, man. It’s Y/N, your partner in crime. You’ve heard her voice before. 

But this was different. The circumstances were different and the reason for a call was different too. And now it was just the two of them, as opposed to a lobby full of friends. And Corpse tried so hard to figure out how to convince her that all the hate she receives on social media didn’t mean anything, that for a moment he forgot she was still calling.

He pressed the green button carefully, as if he was defusing a bomb, and found himself unable to utter a single word, just like before. There was silence on the other line too, as if Y/N expected him to speak up first. 

So Corpse build up the courage and took in a deep breath, before letting out a quiet, almost shy:

“Hi”

 The word left his mouth almost as a whisper, and for a moment he thought that the girl didn’t even hear it, but then her voice told him otherwise.

“Hey... Corpse” she mumbled. She sounded so different, almost as if she was sick. Her calm and soft voice was so quiet that Corpse had some trouble hearing her at first. She sounded so tired, so hurt, so defeated, that he completely forgot every advice he had managed to stock in his mind before this call. 

“It’s good to hear you, partner.” he said after a moment, realizing that asking what’s wrong wasn’t the best thing he could do at that moment. He felt that she’d probably hung up on him if he did... “I didn’t think I’d hear from you after you aborted the mission.”

He heard her sigh out a laugh at his words, his tone playfully accusatory. The girl cleared her throat and wondered for a second, before replying:

“It wasn’t exactly my mission... And if I remember correctly, you were the one who broke our partnership, chasing me around the ship.” 

He could almost hear the smile behind her words, which made his lip corners curl up slightly. He was glad she still managed to joke with him. It meant that, perhaps, it wasn’t that bad. 

“Did I kill you, though?” 

“You would if you had a chance.”

“I had plenty of chances Y/N, and I never took one” he replied right away with a chuckle. “I may be the murderer, but I’m no traitor.”

“You say that after luring me to that lava pit and killing me and Sykkuno? It was a trap all along, wasn’t it?” she asked suspiciously, but he knew she was joking “I bet you were conspiring with MrBeast all this time...”

“How dare you” he scoffed, trying to hold back his chuckle “I took you there cause it’s a special place, it was no trap! It just happened to be the wrong place and the wrong time...”

“Sure, partner”

“I’m serious!” he laughed “Besides - I apologized, and if I remember correctly, I think we both agreed that I jumped into that lava pit for you after all...”

“After they voted you off! You didn’t have any other chance!”

“Maybe it was all planned?” he said, changing his voice to more mysterious “Maybe I conspired with MrBeast so I could jump into that lava pit... and the only way to do it is by being voted off. So, either way, I kept my word.”

“Fine... whatever.”

Their laughter died down and was replaced by surprisingly comfortable silence. Corpse was happy with how the conversation started - he believed it would be easier for Y/N to explain what happened now, if she wished to explain, of course. 

“Y’know...” he began after a second, deciding to change the subject and finally address the issue. “Partners are supposed to help each other... and be there when the other person is in need...”

He was careful with his words, being full aware that Y/N might find it uncomfortable to share her problems with him. He wanted to encourage her, just slightly, if his previous texts weren’t enough. 

She sighed quietly and he could sense her reluctance. 

“But only if the other person wants partner’s help.” he added after a moment, keeping his voice as soft as he could. Y/N didn’t respond right away, but she didn’t hang up either, which Corpse took as a good sign. He gave her a couple of seconds to collect her thoughts, before asking another question: 

“What made you so upset, Y/N/N?”

He could hear her inhale the air sharply as if she had trouble breathing steadily. The line went silent, not that Corpse was surprised. He waited patiently, giving the girl the time she needed to decide whether she wanted to answer that question and what words should she choose if she did. 

And when she finally spoke up, Corpse felt as if his heart could break.

“They are just so mean...” she almost whispered, her voice cracking. He didn’t have to ask whom she meant, it was obvious. “And I don’t even know why... I didn’t do anything to those people, and yet they are so mean towards me.”

Corpse hummed in response, allowing her to keep talking. If there was one thing he knew that helped coping with stress, it was sharing it with someone else. And even though he himself had a lot on his plate, he felt the need to be that someone for Y/N. 

“I... I don’t want you to think that I’m some crybaby, who takes everything super seriously and can’t take a joke, but...” she stuttered for a moment and Corpse fought the urge to cut her off and tell her that what he thinks of her is the complete opposite. “But those comments... those weren’t jokes, Corpse. I don’t think anyone would find them funny.”

His heart ached at the sound of her quiet, weak voice. And then it angered him, that some anonymous haters managed to upset this cheerful, innocent person. How could anyone do something like that to Y/N?

“I... I’m sorry for telling you this...” she suddenly trailed off, sounding rather awkward and uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t be bothering you with my silly problems...”

“They aren’t silly as long as they are problems to you, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, but... I’m sure everyone from the group has received such comments at some point of their career... or maybe they still receive them...” she murmured almost embarrassed. “Maybe it’s no such a big deal after all...”

“Let me ask you something” Corpse said, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach. Not directed at Y/N, of course, but at the people who made her think this way. “Imagine that someone, let’s say me, calls you because of the same reason. Would you consider telling me that online hate, or any hate for that matter, is not a big deal? That those are just my silly problems” 

She was silent for a moment, thinking about his question, and probably not expecting it in the first place. However, after a few seconds of initial surprise, she replied firmly:

“Of course not.” 

“Then why are you trying to convince yourself that they are?” he asked in what would sound like an accusatory tone, but in reality was just his voice laced with worry. “There’s no such thing as a silly problem Y/N, as long as it bothers you. If you consider it a problem, then it is a problem. And the fact that other people receive similar, or even worse comments, doesn’t mean anything. Maybe just that they are longer on Youtube and they’ve learned to deal with this kind of stuff... And your reaction? It doesn’t make you a crybaby and please Y/N, don’t ever think that way about yourself.”

He said it all so quickly and almost on one breath, letting all his frustration out and trying to form his babbling into some logical statement. 

“I understand what you’re going through...” he confessed after a moment of silence between them. “I know what it’s like to go through the ocean of positive comments and find those few which say something completely different... something that is meant to hurt you and humiliate you... Something that ruins your day, or even a couple of next few days or weeks... Something that completely overshadows everything else you’ve read about yourself. Something that people write from the safety of their own computers or phones, without showing their faces and remaining completely anonymous.”

For a moment, Corpse allowed himself to speak about his own experience, thinking that maybe when Y/N realizes that he knew exactly what she was dealing with, it would make it easier for her. “And that is the key fact, Y/N, that they are anonymous. They do what they do because no one can see them because it is comfortable for them to leave a hate comment and not face any consequences. Because they don’t have to face the person their hate is directed towards.”

“Some of the accounts were not anonymous...” Y/N mumbled, and Corpse could clearly hear that she was speaking through the tears. “People were using their public accounts, with photos and everything...”

“But let me guess, those comments weren’t even about your videos, huh? They weren’t about any of your work?” 

“Well...” she whispered, thinking about Corpse’s question. “Truth to be said, no. Most of them just looked like some kind of a personal attack on me...” 

“Exactly. It’s not even criticism, it’s just plain bullshit cowards are sharing online. They probably aren’t even able to form some logical sentence, they just combine some random words which are supposed to hurt you.”

“It works...”

“Y/N...” Corpse sighed into the phone, hearing her defeated tone. “Let me ask you another question, okay?” she hummed in response, and Corpse cleared his throat. “Tell me, whose opinion matters to you the most?”

“My friends... and my fans’“she said.

“Okay.. and whom do you consider your fan?”

“Someone who finds the content I create interesting and entertaining and takes his time to watch my videos.” she replied right away.

“Okay. Do you think that people who left those comments took their time to even watch your videos?” 

“Probably not...” she replied after a second. “Look, I know what you mean Corpse... That I shouldn’t worry about it because they are not my fans and therefore their opinion shouldn’t matter... but that’s not the case. It’s the fact alone that for some reason people spend their time hating me when I didn’t even do anything to them.”

“You didn’t do anything to them.” Corpse repeated her own words in his deep voice. “And they didn’t watch your videos. It seems like they don’t have any reason to leave those comments, right?” he asked. “I know that it’s hard Y/N, I really do, but the truth is, you can’t really have everyone leaving positive feedback under your content... There will always be someone who will consider it a good idea to send you a hateful message, just because they can, not because they have any specific reason to. Now I don’t say that’s okay... but it’s in a way like some disease. The one there’s no cure for. Even though you can’t cure it, you can make yourself immune.” 

“How, Corpse? How do you make yourself immune to messages saying that you’re a fucking annoying bitch, that you don’t deserve what you have? That you don’t deserve your friends, and you are not good enough to play with them? To spend your time with them? How do you deal with comments suggesting that you should go and kill yourself, because you’re not famous enough, and you will never be?” 

Her voice suddenly rose, and Corpse felt as his heartbeat quickened with each comment she described. He gripped his hand around the phone, his knuckles turning white and his brows furrowing in an expression of pure fury. 

He considered her words for a moment, trying to come up with the best advice, but realized there wasn’t any that would satisfy her. He could imagine the state she was in, she probably wouldn’t take any of his advice seriously. And he wouldn’t blame her for that. 

“I’m sorry for snapping on you...” she suddenly said, her voice back to its soft tone. “It’s just too much for me to handle...”

“It’s all good, Y/N, don’t apologize. You have the full right to be angry and to show it. I just want you to remember that...” Corpse gulped the lump in his throat, feeling his cheeks getting warmer. “Those comments are not what define you. As a matter of fact, they’re not even about you. You know why? Because people who write them don’t know you. They don’t even take a moment to acknowledge what an intelligent and talented person you are, not to mention how kind... but I do. A-and everyone else too.”

She was silent for a moment, and Corpse panicked, that maybe he said too much, or made things awkward again. But then she spoke up, her slightly less weak than before.

“I suppose... maybe you’re right, Corpse.” she said, still sounding a little bit unconvinced. He understood, it was clear his one pep talk wouldn’t suddenly make her forget about it. It would be like telling a person with depression to stop having depression and expecting them to suddenly feel better. “Thank you. For listening to my pathetic babbling... and for not telling me to just pull myself together.”

“First of all, your babbling is not pathetic...” he began “Second of all... I know we don’t really know each other, but... If you ever feel the need to talk to someone, I’m here.”

“And for that I’m grateful, Corpse” she said, clearly smiling. “Sorry, I mean, partner.”

“Partner.” he chuckled into the phone, smiling from ear to ear. 

“It’s getting late...” she yawned into the phone. “Sorry. I think I’ll go to sleep, I’m really tired...”

“Of course” Corpse replied, hiding the disappointment in his voice. He really enjoyed talking to her, just to her alone, but he understood that the whole conversation and the event preceding it probably exhausted her. 

“Hey...” she suddenly said, and Corpse could swear that her voice sounded as if she unexpectedly became shy. “Um... it was really great talking to you, you’re a really good listener, Corpse.”

“Glad to hear that” he smiled happily.

“Um... would you mind if I called you tomorrow too?” she asked so quietly that he almost didn’t catch it, his breath hitching in his throat. “If you have time that is... if you don’t, or if you have some super plans, then I understand, it’s fine-”

“I don’t have any super plans, Y/N” he couldn’t help but chuckle, finding her nervous banter adorable. “Call me whenever you want.”

“Okay...” she sighed, almost in relief, but Corpse didn’t want to point it out to embarrass her even more. “So... let’s say, around 2 pm?” 

“Sounds good to me.”

“Great.” she said, her voice trailing off a bit. “I’m falling asleep here, Corpse... Thank you once again, for everything.”

“Anytime, Y/N.”

“Good night, partner.”

“Goodnight, partner.” 

-

Part 5 coming soon. It will probably be the last part of this series, I’m not sure yet though.

TAG LIST FOR PURE IS CLOSED. 

TAG LIST FOR CORPSE REQUESTS/OTHER FICS IS OPEN (if you want to be tagged, please send me a text)

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[saltymongoose]

Goddamn it this is why I don't read yandere I get sad thinking of all the angst 😭😭😭

Like. Sanford and Deimos.. the yandere factor, at least from what I've seen in YOUR writing, actually gives the possibility of one of them killing the other for you. FOR YOU. FOR ANOTHER BEING, THEY WOULD MURDER SOMEONE THEYVE SPENT THEIR LIFE WITH. GONE THROUGH ALL THEIR HARDSHIPS WITH. NEARLY INSEPARABLE, UNTIL YOU CAME IN!!

I just..

😭😭😭

So um.. how do Sanford and Deimos deal with/react to any jealous thoughts they get, and how do they view the other when the other is interacting with you? Are they obsessed to the point where any interaction with you brings rage? I hope not..

Asking in the way of like - do they feel weird/uncomfy/horrified at the thought of hurting the other, or how do they feel about their jealousy. Does it make them uncomfy? Does it change the dynamic between them?

The Yandere things w/ multiple yanderes have the issue of.. y'know. Ruining relationships for one person.. and like.

*goes into a corner and cries for 200000 hours.*

- 💬

Hehehe, well to start off with, Deimos and Sanford are actually the most amicable of all the yanderes when it comes to their possessiveness over you. The best way to describe it is like they've kind of agreed to team up to get you away from the others. (Because there's really no way they could fare against Hank's violent protectiveness or Doc's manipulation tactics alone. At least not well).

Most of the time their jealousy amounts to a strong annoyance or vexation, and they'll pout and sulk for a bit (and glare) or try to playfully trip the other up. Nothing really harmful; their obsession with you is strong but they know that the way they play off each other greatly amuses you, which is really their main goal when you're there. After all, if you enjoy your time with them so much, you're less likely to leave them again next time, right?

(the rest is under the cut because this got really long haha)

But it's different from how it was before. They're still best friends, of course, but there's always that underlying subtext that goes unmentioned whenever you're there. You're made the immediate priority; they care infinitely more about who's getting your attention, who you're complimenting more, who seems to be winning this "competition" for your favor.

Sanford would generally feel more guilty about his jealousy than Deimos would, likely due to how sentimental he is. He hears how you laugh at Deimos' quips, and he aches at how unfair it is that he didn't do that. Unfortunately he might end up projecting that hurt on his friend, which he regrets most of the time because he's not really enraged at Deimos, more so that he's lost an opportunity. And that he's not as funny as he is. (Similar to this, Deimos gets incredibly annoyed whenever you fawn over Sanford's physique and his own special abilities too.) Interestingly enough, it's almost like it's more the side effects of his jealousy that he has an issue with - not that he realizes it.

Deimos is actually really bad at hiding his jealousy; he's far too impulsive to be good at it. However, he's also one to be more accepting of his envy as well, viewing it as a natural side effect of his adoration for you (perhaps even proof of how strong his feelings are). He knows his jealousy is immense but doesn't really care. The only time he feels bad about it is when those thoughts shift into a more violent territory, which is a rare enough occurrence as it is.

Speaking of violence, the idea of hurting one another makes them pretty uncomfortable. It's weird, especially because there's no reason to have such thoughts at the moment (since they're united in trying to keep you to both of them before they confess to you). It falls more into the spiraling/intrusive thought territory, where they'll be watching an interaction you're having with the other and a voice in their mind will go: "Wouldn't it be better if they were gone and you could have the Player all to yourself? You'd never have to share their attention again." It fills them with a disgust like nothing else, and they'll try to ignore it and insist that it's just a fleeting thing that means nothing in the grander scheme of things.

But it gets difficult for them to do that when a part of them knows that this dynamic they have between them probably won't last. Eventually they're going to be the only vessels you're around constantly, and they'll have to confess their love to you. You'll have to choose between them. And as much as they respect your judgement, they know that they're not willing to just let you go and do nothing. They also realize that the other likely has these thoughts too, but they don't bring it up. That doesn't mean the thought of murder doesn't make them horrified though. (Best case scenario, you end up falling for one of them and the other still gets to be around and obsess over you more platonically. But there are a million other things that could happen too, some good, some bad.)

So they'll continue keeping a close friendship with the other, not only because they know teaming up will help progress their relationship with you, but also because that's just how it's always been between them. It's a bit bittersweet since the future of their friendship isn't as concrete anymore. But even if they do have their jealousy to contend with now, you could also argue that your presence has made them more united in a way too. They've got something else to fight for now, instead of the welfare of Nevada and keeping up the status quo. Before they can worry about what their relationship with the other will be like, they gotta make sure they secure a future with you in it first. Besides, they play off each others' strengths very well; it's what led them to you in the first place. It's only logical that they'd work together to gain your affection too.

[lilacmeadows]

Made For You pt.1

Okay so this is gonna be a series. My FIRST series. So go easy on me pretty please. I’ve never written smut, and I know nobody wants badly written smut. So we’ll see about that. But this one is definitely gonna be more of a slow burn. Maybe 4 chapters? Yeah. I like that. 4 chapters. I’ve just been thinking about this idea for a while and I wanna get into writing. I hope someone likes this.

BUCKY X READER

Summary: Hydra had just finished training you to be the Winter Soldier’s perfect mate when the Avengers saved him. But what’s going to happen to you now that Hydra has deleted your old life and left you with nothing but a soldier that needs to learn to love himself before he can love someone else.

Part 1    Part 2    Part 3 (coming soon)

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, explicit language, eventual dom/sub dynamics, mentions of captivity and kidnapping. violence- guns, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, angst if you squint (must be 18+)

WORD COUNT: 2k 

PART ONE

She’s so used to quiet in her quaint bedroom. The faint whirring of the air conditioner, sounds of footsteps and machinery being rolled outside her door, the music they would play for her when she was extra good that week.

So when she was awoken to gunshots and yelling, y/n was anxious and didn’t know what to do. She backed into the corner of the room furthest from the door and shut her eyes. Hopefully, if she stayed quiet and unseen, things would resolve itself, and she wouldn’t see any violence come her way.

Luckily for her, after what felt like hours later, the sounds quieted down. The gunshots were less frequent and finally came to a stop. She waited for a few moments before sitting on her bed with intentions of continuing her knitting. She wasn’t allowed many activities, but this was one luxury the Men didn’t mind since she hadn’t had any violent outbursts in a long time. She hated being shocked, and she liked knitting.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Minutes later, she could hear footsteps approaching her room. Too late to go back into her corner without being heard through the ‘doggie door’ the Men used to pass her food twice a day, she sat still and slowed her breathing.

‘Anything on that floor?’ She heard one male voice say from further away.

‘Not yet. Mostly supply closets on this floor, but I’ll check them all.’ Said a voice from much closer. He couldn’t have been more than 10 feet away from her door. She could tell they were American like her because they didn’t have the funny accents the Men all had. Gripping her plastic knitting needles tightly in one hand she braced herself for the intrusion.

Her door cracked open a little, then quickly opened all the way.

“Cap, you need to see this.” The man called over his shoulder. “Are you alright ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m fine, sir.” Her small voice replied, a little rough from lack of use, but still remarkably sweet.

“Who are you? Do you know where you are?” He approached her slowly, taking in her meager appearance, but also watching out for the pointy sticks she has a death grip on.

“My name is y/n. I’m in my room.” She replied. Starting to feel very uneasy by this stranger, but also not thinking that he would hurt him. She had been here for so long, it was strange seeing a tall, black man enter her bedroom. Only trainers and watchers were allowed to enter her bedroom.

“What is it?” Another, taller man asked, but his question was soon answered when his eyes landed on the girl sitting on her bed with her tucked gently under her. He immediately noticed her lack of decent clothing, and it caused a blush to creep up his neck.

“We have a girl here, possibly a hostage, maybe an experiment. She doesn’t look like she particularly wants to be rescued.” The first man said to the other, who’s slowly entering the room while trying not to stare at her thin, flimsy, cotton dress.

“Hi, I’m Steve, this is Sam. Do you know where you’re from?” The blonde man said to her while crouching down to be at her eye level. She nodded her head yes. “Well we’re the good guys. We’re here to save you. Do you want to come with us so we can take you home?”

She had to contemplate for a minute. It had been so long since she got here that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to leave. These men looked sincere, but she knew if she left and was caught, she’d be punished terribly. But if the gunshots meant anything, there would be nobody to punish her. Which means she can’t stay regardless because there would be nobody to take care of her either.

“Did you kill my watchers?” She looked at the blond man after a few quiet seconds. Steve and Sam made eye contact and had a whole argument in silence before Sam spoke up.

‘Yes, we did. But they were bad men. They were keeping you here. But you’re free now. You just gotta follow us, and we’ll get you out of here.’ Sam said, gently. Not wanting her to think they’re cold blooded murderers, but also trying to rush this meeting along so they can board the quinjet, where the rest of the team was waiting.

Steve held one of his hands out to her, which she hesitantly took- knitting needles and purple ball of yarn in her other hand. She thought about grabbing her sweaters, but they weren’t kept in her room. Quite frankly, she had no idea where they were. The Men didn’t allow her to keep the things she learned to knit in her room. But they would give her back a sweater during the cold months. So she just followed the two men awkwardly. Them taking large, hard steps towards parts of the building she had never seen, and her dainty footsteps lagging behind. The trainers taught her to walk with a ladylike gait, on the balls of her feet with barely any pressure to her heels.

After many hallways and stairwells, they found themselves outside the building. The quinjet was parked close by, and y/n’s eyes almost jumped out of her head. Of course she had never seen anything like that before. The men led her onto the loading area which closed behind them.

“Take a break for sightseeing?” Said one man from the front of the jet. They couldn’t see her because of her small stature behind the two men.

“Actually, we found someone. Her name is y/n. She was in one of the rooms, top floor.” Steve said to the man, while fishing you out from behind his back.

She was met with eyes. Many pairs of eyes. All looking directly at her. Not used to all the attention, she looked down at her feet, which were bare as usual and slightly irritated from walking on various terrains. Her toes painted baby pink. Another luxury the Men allowed her. Some watchers were nicer than others. The shorter, fat one that came every other night would bring her a light, barely noticeable, polish that she was only allowed to put on her toes.

Being there wasn’t so terrible. She was 10 when they took her in 2006. She had a mom and older brother, and they lived in a town in Georgia. She often wonders what happened to them that morning when the Men put a rag over her face, and she woke up on a bed in the room that would become her new bedroom.

She didn’t leave the room often. There was a small bathroom across the hall from her room. The watcher would be standing guard outside her door, and she would let him know she would like to use the bathroom or bathe. He would have to stand in the room with her while she bathed, but after a while, they were kind enough to face the wall. She fought for a long time. Refusing to eat the food (which wasn’t terrible), screaming and crying, she even plotted the occasional failed attack. But then they started the shock therapy, and she learned. Being in that chair was brutal. Rewiring her brain into submission. Submission to the Men so they could train her. She had to be ready for the Soldat when he needed her. Why her? She didn’t ask and they didn’t tell her. She learned very quickly that she was only allowed to speak when spoken to.

Make the Soldat happy. That was her mission. She had been told that phrase so many times that she heard it in her sleep. She had never seen or met him, but she was being trained to be his. A possession he could have control over during the brief times he was unfrozen. She was to listen to him, obey, sleep with him, and just make him happy because the mind controlling words were having less and less of an effect, and the Men were afraid he would lash out and massacre them all.

But it doesn’t seem like she’ll be fulfilling her life goal after all because now she’s in the air with a group of people looking at her like she has two heads. A woman with pretty red hair, a man with a large bow, and a man with nice glasses towards the front of the jet, were on one side. On the other was a blond man with very long hair, standing up to talk to a man in a purple shirt, and a man sitting by himself with long brown hair. All of their stares were pointed at her, but his seemed to go through her. Like he had x-ray vision and could read her mind.

“Y/n, you can have a seat right there.” Sam said, pointing to an empty seat next to the redhead who only squinted at her. “That’s Natasha. She’s nicer than she looks.”

“No, I’m not.” She said, making eye contact with y/n. “But we’re glad to have you aboard.” Natasha finished, the slightest smile forming at the girl.

“Um... Cap, where are her clothes?” The man from before asked Steve.

“I don’t know. This is what she was wearing, and I didn’t see a wardrobe anywhere, Tony.” Steve sighed, obviously exasperated by even the thought of a conversation with Tony.

Tony looked at the girl expectantly. Was he waiting for her to chime in? Because he’d be waiting a long time. She was trained very well. Talking out of turn was one of the first rules she learned.

“Sweetheart, are you alright? Do you want something to cover up? We have blankets. What about water? You thirsty? Does she even understand a word I’m saying?” Tony’s last question was aimed at the men she entered with.

“I understand. I’m sorry. I’m alright, sir.” And if the team was trying to keep their staring inconspicuous at first, they completely abandoned that when she spoke. Her voice was so small and smooth. Just a little weak from not talking much.

“How about we get you a blanket anyway so I can be a little more comfortable” He nodded towards Sam who left the room and returned with a large blanket. She hadn’t realized how cold she was or that her nipples were pointing through her thin dress. Or that the cotton dress was really just a white slip that was damn near see through.

Maybe the grumpy looking man on the other side of the jet does have x-ray vision.

“Thank you, sir.” Everyone had to be called Sir. She hadn’t been around any women, but she was pretty sure if they looked as serious as the one next to her, she’d call them Ma’am.

“Tony is fine.” He smiled at her.

“Hey. I’m Clint, by the way.” The man on Natasha’s other side said, turning his body to address her. “So, umm... What were you doing up there? Are you working for Hydra?” Other members of the team groaned and scolded him for being so blunt, even though they were secretly happy he asked because they also wanted to know.

“I was knitting.” She said simply. She was going to leave it at that, but she could see the way Clint’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at her short reply. So she continued with the mantra she was raised with. “My purpose is to make the Soldat happy. He is my mission.”

She had never seen a room of people’s heads turn so fast. Eyes darting from her to the brooding man on the other side of the jet. He squinted his eyes, looking equally as confused.

She hadn’t realized that her mission was right in front of her.

part 2