#it’s so creepy it feels like there’s something deeply wrong and I don’t know if that’s intentional or not yet

[calamityspelldust]

i only just started Karamelle but. why is this place so unsettling oh my god

[doctorprofessorsong]

Destiel fic recs

Another round of brainrot. I hope they never fix what's wrong with me.

Beggars Would Ride by Tiamatv (Explicit, 118k)

You had me at Aladdin AU. When Dean Winchester is caught stealing, he's given one chance for freedom. Go into the Cave of Wonders, grab the amulet, and get out. Things don't go as planned. Now he's got a moody ancient genie to contend with. But maybe he can use up two of his wishes and then grant the genie his wish: to be free. What could go wrong?

This fic is an absolutely delight. I laughed so hard, especially at the fun ways Tiamatv played with the SPN canon and the Disney movies. But beyond the humor is some really fantastic world building and a beautiful story about finding your way when you feel trapped by life.

Genie Cas is very cute and grumpy and sassy, and it's fun to watch him start to care. And Dean has so much heart it will make you ache. Sam and Jess are disgustingly cute but both are also whip smart and fun. And Jo (Jess’ sister in this) is the knife girl of my dreams.

This one is hard to put down.

Tourbillon Dreams by kayliemalinza @kayliemalinza (Mature, 40k)

Dean uses Bobby's life insurance proceeds to buy a hoarders house stuffed to the brim with cursed and haunted objects. But when he finds a clock that also happens to be an angel, things take an unexpected turn.

It sounds cracky and there is some delightful humor, but this fic packs a beautiful emotional punch. Dean is in his peak caretaking, competency mode and Clockstiel is adorable and entranced with Dean in a way that is just immensely readable.

There is something starkly gorgeous about the way Dean and Cas are physically so different and yet they find each other in meaningful and beautiful ways.

Love Is a Meat Loaf Song by followyourenergy @followyourenergy (Explicit, 68k)

A reimagining of canon where Dean is never saved and becomes a demon. He's bored waiting for the apocalypse when he happens upon a certain blue eyed seraph and they decide to work together.

This fic has all the delightful sassiness you expect of Demon!Dean and especially when he spends time with his frenemy, Meg. It also has just absolutely amazing angel lore and a deep dive into Cas and his trauma. All of this is wrapped up in a soft love story about two beings finding each other and seeing each other and breaking down each other's walls.

It's the entire package of funny, sincere and romantic.

Where there is Darkness by quiettewandering @wanderingcas (Explicit, 91k)

I may have popped this on at some point when it was a WIP but I have to renew my recommendation if so. Dean and Sam are lighthouse keepers, but Dean keeps driving off the third member of their team until Cas shows up. But will they be able to overcome their past to carve out happiness?

This Dean and Cas are so delicious. I am deeply fond of them both. They are fighting against so much baggage and yet they find in each other something so special. Sammy is also perfectly oblivious in the best way. It's hard to explain what makes this fic special except that it is so engrossing, you will be slamming next chapter

Valley of God by ValleyDean @valleydean (Mature, 145k)

I know. I KNOW. The MCD tag is daunting in a fic like this but I promise that while it is accurate, then ending is softer than you think and it's really the way it should end.

So there are a few things about this fic that make it absolutely delicious. First, it really delves into Cas’ trauma in a really gorgeous way. We don’t have enough fics that look at his angel trauma (we can't for me tbh) and this one uses a religious cult situation to delve into it. Second, Dean and Cas in this fic are just so messy and delightful. Dean wants to believe that Cas is good so badly. Cas wants to protect Dean the same way. It's crunchy. Finally, the atmosphere is amazing. It's creepy. It gets under your skin.

Is it dark? Absolutely. But it's also amazing.

The Darkest Sunshine by StarlightOfFandoms @starlightoffandoms (Explicit, 35k)

If murder husbands is your thing, this one is a delight of a fic. Dean Winchester is the Righteous Man serial killer, a notorious murderer who goes after monsters (in human form). People who are guilty of abhorrent crimes. But when he goes after Cas, a professor believed to have murdered several students, he discovers an innocent man being framed. Together with Cas and his team, Dean decides to find the real killer. He just has to pretend to be Cas’ boyfriend until they succeed.

The fake dating trope in a murder husbands fic was a total delight. So was the fact that Dean doesn't work alone and has a full support system to go after the worst of the worst. It's an intriguing concept done really well. Dean in this fic is an interesting blend of sociopathic tendencies, a strong sense of justice, and a willingness to do anything for those he is loyal to. Cas is intrigued by Dean and accepts him as he is. It's a really great combination.

A Weed In Any Other Place by VioletHaze @scones-and-texting-and-murder (Explicit, 63k)

On the other end of the spectrum is this fluffy rom com. There is some angst, but most of it is soft, sweet falling in love along with supportive friends and family.

Cas is a writer. Well, Cas had a book published and now he's desperately trying to write his second while convincing himself the first was probably just a fluke. Writers block is a bitch. That is until his car breaks down and he ends up at a little shop called Winchester and Son. By some weird trick of fate, it's exactly what he needs. He has the most productive day in years sitting in their waiting room. So he comes back, and keeps coming back. The extremely cute mechanic with green eyes doesn't hurt.

Cas is a disaster at social situations in a relatable way. Dean is struggling to put away some bad lessons from his dad so that he can find what he wants instead of what his father pushed on him. Both have a lovely support system. Charlie, in particular, makes me deeply fond in this fic.

i like your shoelaces (thanks! i stole them from the president) by you-cant-spell-subtext-without (ayreisha) @you-cant-spell-subtext-without (Explicit, WIP, 33k so far)

My lovely Tumblr wife is back at it, writing the most delightfully chaotic fic based on Misha's prompt awhile back for President Cas and Fast Food Janitorial Staff Dean Winchester. It's a Cinderella story and in equal parts hilarious and adorable. Also it is a Dean-saster/Cas-tastrophe pairing which is always fun plus there's a 2 person love triangle situation.

Dean's stuck in a miserable job with his only escape being his love of How I Met Your Mother and the Tumblr blog he devotes to the fandom. But when a handsome man walks in one night after hours, things heat up. Too bad the man in question is actually the President.

It's a romp and a love letter to fandom.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ iii. suguru/reader

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

Suguru

  Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message. . . 

Call forty-four, and I’ve yet to hear from Y/N. She possibly couldn’t be ignoring my calls, my texts. . . I know she wouldn’t ignore me because she said we could continue our affair. I’m getting frustrated. My cock is getting frustrated. If something happened, she would’ve told me. . . Right? 

  Right, Suguru. 

 We were doing so well last week. Talking on the phone. Video chatting. She even sent me sexy photos of herself. I know my cock has been tired seeing my hand, but fuck, that woman makes me feels like an animal. I can’t help but be in love with Y/N. She belongs to me. Not that sad excuse of a husband. 

 From the moment she agreed to our agreement, I knew there was a possibility of her ghosting me might happen, so I prepared myself. After I had the pleasure of fucking that perfect pussy of hers, we parted ways. At least, that’s what I made her think.

 I followed her around for the rest of the day while she ran errands. You know… just to make sure she’s safe. I don’t need no other fucker trying to hit on what’s mine.  

  She’s not yours, Suguru.

 Yes she is.

 She just doesn’t know it yet. 

 I’m not sure if I should call her for the forty-fifth time. I don’t want to come off as too pushy, but her not responding is annoying me. And I know she’s home. I checked the tracker I left between her car seats and I see she’s been in the same spot for the past week. So I figured that’s where she lives.

  I’m going to sleep now. Talk to you tomorrow? 

 I stare at the last text message she sent to me. I mean… it didn’t seem like anything was wrong. We just finished having phone sex and it was pretty late. But if Y/N said she was going to talk to me tomorrow, she should’ve talked to me tomorrow.

 Tomorrow was a fucking week ago. 

 Wait… what if something happened to her? What if her fucker of a husband found out about us and he’s trying to keep me away from her? 

 No.

 I can’t let that happen. Not when I need her. 

 It would be too creepy if I showed up to her apartment. Maybe I should just send Y/N another text asking to meet up at the bakery I saw her at the last time? Yeah, I think I’ll do that. 

 I just want Y/N to know I’m worried—

 My phone is ringing. 

 I knew she wasn’t ignoring me.

 “Y/N, hey-”

 “ Nope .”

 I remove my phone from my ear to see it’s Satoru calling me. Awesome. 

 “Oh. It’s just you,” I say nonchalantly. 

 “ Well, damn. It’s nice talking to my best friend, too, ” he teases. “ Mad because I’m not your girlfriend? ”

 I deeply sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose.  “What do you want, Satoru?”

 “ What are you doing tomorrow night? ”

  Fisting my cock to Y/N. 

 “Nothing. Why?”

 “ The Zen’ins’ are throwing some big fancy event, ” Satoru tells me.

 I arch my brow as if he could see me through the phone.  “And what does this have to do with me?”

 “ Do you know who Y/N is married to? ”

 “No?”

 “ Toji Zen’in, meaning nine times out of ten, she will be there. I know you said you haven’t heard from her in a while. Maybe you’ll see her .”

 She’s fucking married to him? Out of all people, that is who she chooses to spend her life with? 

 I’ve met that fucker a few times. I did a couple of his tattoos. Hate him, but he pays good money so I just tolerated the jackass. Knowing my Y/N is giving her pussy, love, and time to him makes me even more angry. 

 I need answers. 

 I need to know why the fuck she hasn’t been responding to phone calls and text messages. She can’t fucking promise an affair just to leave me and my cock dry. 

It doesn’t work like that. 

 “I’ll go.” 

Reader

 I tilt my head back and allow the hot water to hit my skin while I take a shower. It’s been a week since I last spoke to Suguru and two weeks since I told Toji I cheated. My life has been… complicating, to say the least. 

 I decided not to speak to Suguru anymore because I know Toji means well on his threats and I don’t need my husband killing someone on my behalf… again. I honestly thought he left to go find Suguru. However, when he returned home, I texted Suguru and he was okay.

 That was the last I heard of him.

 When Toji came home a few days after our argument, we went from having small talk to not talking at all. Only having quiet breakfasts and dinners together. We’d steal glances, but that’s about it. Though, he has been sleeping in our bed lately, which I find weird. 

 We haven’t slept next to each in months. His excuse? He said he didn’t want to wake me up since he comes home late from work. A pathetic excuse because Toji knows I don’t care if I’m woken up as long as I’m sleeping in his arms. There was a time where his arms felt like home to me…

  Anyways .

 Just earlier Toji watched me stripped naked to prepare for my shower. We stared at each other through the mirror. His body, muscular, covered in tattoos and scars, having only his briefs on to leave me with my imagination of his cock I haven’t seen in months. Toji hasn’t looked at me for that long in a while. 

 I was self-conscious.

 Marriage only made my body fuller. More curvier in these past seven years. My insecurity of him not being attracted to me anymore only heightened the longer he watched me. But when my eyes roamed down his body, they stopped at the front of briefs. 

  He was hard. 

 And I’m not talking about semi hard. I mean straining hard, like he was uncomfortable. I sucked in a soft breath and pulled my eyes away to look at his face that flushed a rose color across his cheeks. 

 I felt… desired. 

 The desire I’ve been yearning for months that I found with Suguru. 

 That silent moment I had with Toji and the lack of communication with Suguru is all I’ve been thinking about since I got in the shower. I didn’t even start washing myself yet. 

 I grabbed my body wash to pour on my loofah, and just when I was about to scrub myself, the shower door opened.

 I wasn’t startled because I knew it was Toji, but I was surprised because it was Toji. The last time we showered together was on his thirty-ninth birthday. We had sex. Amazing sex at that. What’s the likelihood of us recreating that memory right now? Slim to none. 

 I turn to face him.

 I don’t say anything.

 He doesn’t say anything but stares at me with those jade color hues I fell in love with ten years ago. I held his contact and I saw… hunger in his eyes.  

  You’re imagining things, Y/N. 

 Toji grabs my loofah and begins washing me, starting with my arms. He drags the loofah along my chest, down the mountain of my breasts, which he scrubs next. Toji took his time washing my tits. Something so simple like washing your partner’s body can be intimate and pussy soaking. Because that’s all I feel right now. 

 Drenched. 

 Turned on. 

 He knows I am. That’s why he slowly circles my full, perfectly saggy tits with the loofah. 

 All of this while never breaking eye contact. 

 He has me sit on the shower bench, lowering him to his knees to wash my legs. After he finishes with one leg, he spreads me open to clean the other one. Why? I don’t know, but I comply. For the first time since coming in the shower, he breaks contact to look elsewhere. 

 My puffy pussy that’s dying to be touched. 

 I’m no longer under the shower head and the water isn’t touching me since Toji is in front of me. He notices how wet I am, looks at me, then takes a deep breath that could be mistaken as a groan. 

 He stands me up, turning me around to wash my back. While doing so, I felt his cock brush against my ass. A moan touched my lips, causing Toji to stop and I immediately grew embarrassed from my actions. 

 Me being wet. Moaning. Getting turned on from being washed by Toji. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m in heat. Horny. I want to be fucked by my husband, but my stubbornness is not allowing me to make the first move. 

 Once he finished taking his time washing my ass, he grabbed the shower head to spray my body. My breaths were slow and steady, chest heaving desperation. Warmth also began spreading across Toji’s cheeks again. I didn’t bother to conceal my need for him.

 I looked at his cock and he was hard, veins popping out and leaking precum. 

 He wants me just as much as I want him. 

 I break the silence. 

 “Are you okay?” I ask, invitingly. However, he doesn’t respond. Toji swiftly lifted me off the shower floor as if I weighed nothing and hooked his arms under my knees while I rested my hands on his broad shoulders. 

 Again, Toji and I just stare at each other. His cock mere inches away from my pussy. It doesn’t matter how long we haven’t touched each other. Haven’t had sex or slept in the same bed. Once we connect, it feels like the first time again. 

 I’m needy. Impatient. Starving for his dick inside of me. I just can’t give him the satisfaction of begging. Not like I used to, and not after when I cheated. But lucky for me, Toji doesn’t make me wait. 

 He unhooks one of his arms to grab his length to align it with my sex. I hold my breath, anticipating the first time I feel him in months.

  Breathe is all he says to me before slamming into my pussy. The cry I let out was sharp and loud. I feel embarrassed from sounding like a cat in heat, but I can’t help myself.

 Toji feels so good. 

 He doesn’t even work his ways into my walls. His thrusts are brutal, but the wetness of my pussy mends the pain and makes it easier for him to slip in and out of me. 

 I close my eyes to bask in the moment, however, a territorial growl comes from Toji and I know he’s telling me to keep my eyes open and on him as a warning. 

 I have no intention of not listening to him. 

 I look into his earth like eyes where I see we share the same lust and craving for each other. Toji starts fucking me harder, more profoundly without missing a pace of his strokes. For a minute, I think of how big Suguru is, but Toji? I’ve been questioning how I’m able to take all nine-in-a-half inches of him inside of me.

 Toji fills me to the brim. He stretches my pussy until I’m perfectly molded around his width, taking him like his favorite slut. For years I’ve been Toji’s fuck toy. Maybe to other women, they don’t like being used by their husband, but I do. 

  I like the feeling of being fucked into oblivion by Toji, until drool coats the side of my lips and tears prick my eyes as they’re doing now. 

 “T-Toji…” I whimpered. “I miss how you feel inside of me, baby.”

 He clicks his tongue, abruptly pounding with a bit more force. “If you miss my cock, why did you let another guy fuck you? Hm?”

 “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Toji. Please… ” What am I begging for? I said I wasn’t going to, but… “Harder.”

 “You let another motherfucker use you to help him cum,” Toji says through gritted teeth, thrusting into me harder every word he speaks. “Y/N, you should know I don’t like fucking sharing. Do I have fuck you until you remember who you belong to? Until you know who pussy is this?”

 “Y-Yes.”

 He whispers in my ear. “Wrong answer.” How does the wrong answer feel this good? 

 I feel the coolness of the shower wall on my flesh as Toji fucks me against it. His thrusts are merciless. It felt like he was trying to punish me for my infidelity, making me atone for my sins while being stuffed with cock. 

 “Fucking being a filthy slut for someone else,” he mutters. “I’m going to stuff you, fill you with every single last drop of my cum. And I have a lot in me, sweetheart. It’s been months.”  He pulls his cock out my pussy, putting me on my feet to push my chest against the wall and force an arch in my back. 

 Toji didn’t even give me a chance to complain from his loss of touch before sinking deep into my warmth again. His fingers wrapped around my coils to pull while his free hand squeezes my nipples. 

 I feel overwhelmed. I’m trying to hold back my orgasm to relish this fucking because it may or may not happen again, but I feel a knot coiling in my stomach. 

 “Y/N, I feel you throbbing around my cock. I know you’re about to cum. So do it,” he orders, letting go of my nipples to slap my ass. 

 “I… I don’t want to.”

 “Are you saying you’re not going to cum for me when I told you to?” His question comes off as a warning.

 This side of Toji is… different. He usually fucks me rough, yes. Though, with tenderness and praising me for taking him well. But now… his intention is to fuck me until I’m numb. Degrading me. Talking down on me like I’m some whore he picked up at a bar.

 I… I like it.

 Actually, I love it. 

 I can’t hold back any longer. My orgasm creeps up on me and I shatter all over Toji’s cock. I moan, cry, scream, whimper his name like it’s all I know. But he’s not done. 

 “Gonna keep fucking this greedy pussy until I want. Keep cumming for me and take this cock, Y/N.”

 Toji finds his hands at my waist and continues to work me open past my orgasm. I put my hand on his pelvic to alleviate the pressure, but he slaps it away, giving me a slow and long stroke that kisses my sweet spot. 

 “Oh, fuck. Okay, Toji. I’ll keep taking it,” I cry. “Praise me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

 He chuckles. “Why should I praise you after you cheated? My cock is hard for you. Isn’t that enough?” Embarrassment flushes through my body after being rejected by Toji, but I’m too fucked to care. “You want me to say you’re a good girl? That you’re doing a good job taking my cock? That’s what you want me to say?”

 Just hearing those words spill from his mouth makes me squeeze his cock viciously. “Y-Yes, please.”

 “Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts, pulling me up by my coils again to ghost over my ears. “I’m supposed to fucking hate you. Hate you for cheating on me, but I can’t. Not when you sound pathetically sexy while I’m pounding this good… fucking pussy. This fucking pussy you gave to someone else.”

 Toji won’t stop fucking me. My legs are growing weak and I feel the sweetest pain in my hips. I meet with his thrusts and bounce my ass on him because I know he loves when I try, even if won’t tell me that now. 

 The grunts and growls that came from Toji have now joined me with moans. His dick throbs inside me indicating his near release. Toji doesn’t get sloppy when he’s about to cum. He goes harder. He pounds into me until I feel light and my wetness echoes in the bathroom. 

 I can’t go back to Suguru after this. No matter how good his dick is, no one knows my body the way Toji does. How he makes ke cum feels like a rare experience. My body only responds to Toji this way. This fucking reminds me that I’m forever his. 

No one else’s. 

 “Toji, please. Please cum inside of me, baby. I want your cum so badly,” I cry, fucking him back.

 His dick twitches. “Begging me to breed this pussy? 

 “Yes. I want you cum with me. Please cum with me, Toji.”

 “Stop talking, Y/N.”

 I know he’s close. 

 “I love your cock, baby. You always fuck me so good,” I tell him. 

 He told me not to hold back, but I know his cum is a few thrusts away from spilling inside of me. 

 “Y/N,” he says, attempts to warn me, but fails with a groan. 

 “I know this pussy is yours. I’m sorry. I won’t cheat again. I’m yours, Toji. Only yours.”

 “Fuck!”

 He kissed my sweet spot a few more times before drowning my pussy with his release. His strokes don't soften, ensuring every drop of him is pounded deeply in my walls. I cum for the second time and this I squirt on Toji’s cock, between my thighs, on the floor until my wetness causes him to abruptly slip out of me. 

 I shake uncontrollably because the overstimulation of cumming back to back overwhelms my body. Getting fucked Toji does that to me. 

 And I know he isn’t finished with me. He turns off the shower, picks me up bridal style, making his way to our room where he throws me on the bed and continues to fuck me until I’m numb. 

previous chapter | next chapter

[ellemfaoh]

Robin Arellano Confession/Dating HCs

A/N: I’m working on writing fic requests I’m sorry I’m taking so long!!! Please forgive me!!! I have homecoming and theatre shows coming up so I’m slow, I deeply and sincerely apologize. Please take these headcanon’s as an apology. Sorry it’s short, I’m literally exhausted

——————————————

You and Robin knew each other since you were kids

Both your moms were friends when they were younger so naturally you two will be too

Call it cliché childhood friends trope, idc it’s adorable

Anyway-

You and Robin used to play pretend a lot as kids. You’d be the royalty needing protecting and Robin would be your knight in shining armor

He’s the Romeo to your Juliet basically, but less creepy

He asked you out one day when you and him were in your room chilling on your bed

You were laying on your stomach reading something and he was laying his head in the dip in your back

“Estoy enamorado de ti” (I’m in love with you)

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it”

He didn’t know that you started learning Spanish from his mom and uncle

“¿Qué tienes, mi vida? Estoy enamorado de ti también.” (What’s wrong, love? I’m in love with you too)

He shot up so fast

When you turned to look at him his face was red and he was pulling his bandana over his eyes

“When did you learn that?! You little hechicera.” (sorceress - think of it like you’ve enchanted him)

You giggled and sat up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down into a kiss

He’s so protective of you after this

Moose better say his prayers if he even looks at you funny

If you two are at school he’s bound to be behind you

He’s always touching you somehow

He’s got an arm around your wait, an arm on your shoulder, pinkies hooked together, you make it

He gave you his favorite bandana and made sure you’re always wearing it

(It rests around your wrist like a watch and he loves to see it)

If you’re doing something in front of him and he feels particularly bold or is craving you, he’ll pull you by your belt loops against him with a shit eating grin

You melt at his touches

Somehow you guys are hanging out with each other even more than you did before

Best believe he sneaks into your room at night to cuddle you

He’s so gentle with you

He’s always the big spoon, no debate

Will climb over you and stuff to make sure he’s always the big spoon I’m not joking

Kisses you and runs his fingers against your scalp when you’re both trying to sleep

Absolutely LOVES kissing you

Literally addicted to you

PDA fan, mainly so he can show people you’re his

He always has a sort of woodsy and natural scent to him

He loves resting on your head and takes a deep breath when he can smell your hair

He’s so in love with you it makes him feel crazy

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[dariaslookalike]

Building Houses and Burning Bridges Pt 11: Teasing and tit Jobs

Summary:

It seems, oddly enough, that Gregory House lives to annoy you. He takes 'arseholish boss' to the next level. Wake up in the morning, ready to have breakfast, and drive to the hospital where you both work? Nope, you're getting a text that says you're late to his impromptu 4:30 AM meeting where he's had the 'breakthrough of the century' on the team's latest case. Get your hair cut and walk into work, for once feeling confident? Nope, he's saying that he would have done a better job blinded, hands tied and going through Vicodin withdrawals. Finally, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, prove him wrong and attempt to wipe the cockiness off his face? Nope, you're simply slow because you didn't get to your diagnosis quicker and weak-willed because you didn't fight him for it in the beginning. Everything House does infuriates you, and it seems everything you do infuriates him. No wonder you end up pinned to the wall of your apartment and groping him like your life depends on. And knowing House, it very may well.

Warnings: Adult language, mature themes, eventual smut, female protagonist, no reference of y/n

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Current Status: Ongoing

A/N: An update! Lol, this fic has been rotting in my google docs for too long. so i'm procrastinating my uni assignments due tomorrow, and i'm updating here. hope to get chapter 13 out by the end of may but we'll see how that goes lmao

Masterlist: Building Houses and Burning Bridges

Next Chapter: Pt 12

Word Count: 4.2k

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

You’re off the medication, finally. 

That’s what your rational brain should have thought when you woke up, and no longer saw the white pills on the bedside table. No more gulping them down, no more harsh cough or aches. You were better.

You’re not thinking that however.

You’re staring at House while he’s sleeping; which is odd, you can admit. Maybe creepy. You don’t admonish yourself, however. How could you? He’s entrancing. You wish you had some paper here, hell, even a napkin or tissue, so you could scrawl and sketch, to have something tangible to look at later. 

You feel your heart twist at the notion. You might not wake up next to him again or ever; He might decide that just sex was horrible with you, and he never wants you in his bed again. Or he might have seen the way you looked at him last night, when you were rubbing his leg and easing his pain, and decided it was too much, too soon- decided that he was right at the start, and that there was no way you could ever stop your feelings for him from interfering with just sex .

Was he right? You knew that things had shifted in your heart after sleeping with him. Before, you could sidestep around the topic and push off any feelings as a simple whimsical thought, a school girl’s fantasy, and nothing more. Now, you want to kiss his lips and bite the apple of his cheek and suck his neck and tell him he’s yours and no one else's. Too much, too soon. You couldn’t do that, couldn’t tell him that- because House wasn’t yours. Sure, he seems intent on having more fun with you. But that was it. Just sex . He would never share the way you wanted him, he would never look at you with much else besides lust. 

But you don’t have paper, or a napkin, or a tissue. So you lay there, and as you stare at him, in the back of your mind you think this will do. If I can’t have him the way I want him, this will do.  

He looks at ease, for once. You know his leg is still bad and that even in his sleep, he’s probably scheming. But there’s no analysing gaze. He’s not staring down at some patient with mistrust and he’s not rolling his eyes at you and he’s not snapping at one of the ducklings. The notch in his brow isn’t so prominent and his mouth is open slightly as he breathes deeply. He’s relaxed, beside you. This will do.

His alarm goes off and you clench your eyes shut. 

You hear him shift, fumbling to hit the clock and finally flicking the right button to silence it’s blaring noise. He lays back against the mattress and settles with a sigh. You listen to him breathe and the overwhelming stillness of the room.

“How long have you been awake and watching, newbie?”

You flick open one eye, and he has his arms tucked behind his head as he gazes up to the ceiling. “How’d you know?”

“I felt psychically attacked by you- or should I say ravaged?” He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “Also you snore when you’re sleeping.”

“I do not!”

He smiles at the ceiling. “Yes, you do. You sleep talk too.”

“No! You’re lying.” You swing out an arm, landing a light blow on his chest. He recoils from it with exaggeration and twists himself to face you.

“If it’s any consolation, you only say random things when you’re sleep talking. Like ‘House just like thaaaaa’.” He trails off into a high pitched moan.

You scoff, but bury your flaming face in your hands. You peek out, briefly. “Are you serious?”

He smirks. “Yep. You’re all over me, even in your sleep.” He reaches out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face. His hand rests on the side of your face, and his thumb smooths over your cheek. “But don’t worry. I’ll only tell Wilson.”

You laugh, but move swiftly and twist yourself to lean on your forearms and knees. House’s eyes flick between the dangling neckline of his shirt that you’re wearing, where your cleavage is showing, and your arse that you stick in the air. 

“You’re not gonna tell Wilson anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” House cocks an eyebrow, flopping onto his back once more. He smirks at you. “What makes you so certain I haven’t already told him everything?”

“Because you were the one who had to stop a blowjob so you wouldn’t be a one pump chump. You can’t act like you didn’t want it just as much as me.”

He tilts his head, and tuts. “Yeah, I can. Last I checked, you were the one screaming- the one who lost the bet.” His smile drips with an overly sweet honey. “You still need to pay up, by the way. I take cash or checks.” 

You sit back and his cool eyes track your movements as you sit on your heels. “I want a rematch.”

“Not a chance. I won, fair and square.”

“You won because you didn’t let me suck you off like I wanted.” You say bluntly. “You won because you were able to hulk out and keep me under you.” 

His eyes darken at your words, but his lips still tilt up. “I’m a cripple and you’re playing the “you overpowered me” card?”

“No, I’m playing the “you had to top otherwise you would have been a goner” card.”

“Still not happening.”

“Double or nothing.” You clench your jaw. “But this time, I’m in control and you can sit there, and look pretty.”

House bats his eyelashes. “You know I’m the best at that. But trust me, you could tie me up and you’d still be the first one begging.”

You smirk, shifting on your knees slightly. “You wanna bet? Yesterday was a fluke on my part- I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. It was cabin-fever induced touch deprivation.”

He scoffs, sitting up and crossing his arms with a level of self-absorbed-assurance you couldn’t master. But there’s a glint in his eyes. He knows what you’re getting at, but he’s letting himself play right into your hand. 

“Tie me up. You won’t win.” He moves, leaning up to whisper in your ear. 

You laugh, placing your hand on his shoulder and shoving him back against the bedding. “Let me find your belt first and you won’t be so sure.”

You scooch past him and his hand snakes out, pinching your arse as you stand up from the bed. You shoot him a withering look and he just grins. 

When you return, he cocks his head slightly. “I didn’t think you were serious about the belt. Gonna whip me too?”

You give him a pout dripping with fake sympathy. “Only if you beg.”

You scan the bed with a disapproving eye and he tracks your gaze to the solid headboard. “I can’t really tie you to that. So turn around.”

His eyes flick down you. “Just because we’ve committed the most unholy of sins together doesn’t mean you’re my boss now. Don’t go on a power trip.”

“Ohh, you’re so right, House.” His lips tilt up even though it’s obvious you’re mocking him. You lean forward, ghosting your lips against his in a smile. “Now be good for me, please, and turn over.”

You see him swallow, but he laughs you off and gives in, twisting around. You shuffle closer to him on the bed, and move his hands softly behind him. You loop the belt in on itself and place it around his wrists before tightening it. He hisses slightly when the edge digs into his skin, and you press your palm into his shoulder, spinning him back around.

He sits with his back up to the headboard, arms twisted behind himself. House glowers at you from beneath his brow. “I didn’t think you were serious .”

He stretches his legs out in front of him, and you see him already twitching in his boxers. You smirk. “You just don’t want to admit how much you like it.” 

His jaw clenches. 

“But,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “If you don’t want this, at any point, tell me. No hard feelings.” You cross your fingers over your heart in a promise.

“I’ve known since I saw you that it would end with one of us tied up.” He tilts his head, raising his eyebrows up in an obvious fashion. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

Sitting beside his thigh, you pat it with mocking comfort. “Sure thing.”

He scowls at you but it’s quickly replaced by a sharp inhale when your hands reach out, pulling down his boxers. He’s half hard and you spit on your hands the same way you did last time. The action makes him tense. You reach out ghosting wet fingers across him and House hisses beside you. His attention is torn between your hands and your face. Eventually, you feel him decide to glare at you, and you look at him, a sweet saccharine smile in place. 

“You doing alright, House?”

“Not exactly. Feels like you’re trying to tickle my dick.”

You laugh, and the mask of power slips for a moment when you tuck your chin to your chest in a giggle. You look back at him coyly, and his jaw ticks. “‘M sorry. I don’t have to touch you there.”

House opens his mouth to protest when your hand abandons him, but the words are lost when you siddle in close to him and let your fingers dance across his chest. You lean in closer, face next to his and your lips ghost across his cheek. He says nothing, no cocky retorts or snarky remarks to be heard. You kiss his cheek, and trail down to his jaw, your hand making smooth shapes across the plane of his chest, his shoulder, his neck. You tug his shirt up and it stays wrangled up, showing the smattering of hair leading down his lower belly. You plant kiss after kiss on everywhere you can reach, soft and gentle. 

You find a spot on his neck and bite it softly before you continue across the smooth column of his throat, leaving wet kisses and marks wherever you can touch. Your other hand sneaks up behind him, entangling itself in his hair. You scratch against his scalp as you bite down on the junction between his neck and shoulder. He’s breathing heavily above you, and you finally abandon your own resistance, and lean closer, skating your lips across his. He leans into the kiss awkwardly, unable to support himself with his hands tied behind him, but he still pushes forward to you. You push him back, chasing after his lips and deepening the kiss. It’s intoxicating and feverish and your hand reaches down, this time firmly grasping his cock. He’s not half hard anymore, instead pulsing against your palm with heat. He gasps into your mouth and you smile against him.

You pull back, setting yourself beside him again. 

You pump him with your hand firmly, and he groans, hips bucking softly into your hand. You pull back, and he shoots you a confused look. 

You just smirk, staying silent. You pump him again, and pull back once more when he moves. He catches on quickly, hissing. “That is not fair.”

“Says who?” You tilt your head at him. 

“Me.” He scoffs, indignantly. 

“I don’t listen to crazy, tied up men.” You say, pouting sadly.

“Untie me then. I’ll prove I’m not crazy.”

“Nice try, House.”

You pump him again, and like the quick learner he is, he just grits his teeth and stays still. 

“Good job, baby.” You say sweetly, pressing a kiss to his neck. You stroke him again, this time tightening your grip each time you reach his head. You kiss at his neck, pumping him up and down, loosely and then firm in your fist. 

He swears beneath his breath softly. Not admitting defeat, but he’s getting there. 

You spit down onto your palm, swiping your thumb over his head. You pump him again, and again, your other hand reaching down to softly cup and squeeze his balls. 

He rolls his head back, leaning against the headboard with shut eyes. “Fuck, Newbie. The brothel teach you that trick?”

You hand tightens to the point of just-uncomfortable around his cock, and his eyes snap open as he groans. You snicker. 

“I’ve had a lot of free time- you’ve got so many pornos in your apartment.”

His eyes snap to yours, and even though he knows that he doesn’t own one porno that could have taught you any of this, his eyes get glossy with the thought. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.” You pump him in your hand, faster, quickening the speed. “You’d be gone for so long and I got so bored.”

He can’t even respond to you, and you let out a breathy, just for show, moan, face scrunching as you keep talking in a breathy tone. You pump him, bouncing on your calves slightly with the movement. “Had to fuck myself in your bed while you were gone. Did it when you were in the lounge room, sleeping on the couch.”

He’s enraptured, mouth open slightly and blue eyes pinned to yours as you continue. “Wasn’t enough. Just kept thinking I should go and wake you up and beg you to help me.”

His throat bobs. “You should have.”

You lean closer, running your mouth along his jaw. He just tilts his head back, giving you better access. “I will be.”

You pump him faster, the sound of his cock fucking into your hand obscene and filling the room. 

“Fuck.” He says, voice breathy. “I’m close.”

“Just gotta beg for, House. C’mon, you can use your words.” You mumble against his skin. “I’ll swallow it all.”

Maybe a small part thought that would break his resolve, but he shakes his head and you grin against him.

“No.”

You lean back, smirking at him. “Then you don’t get to cum.”

He glares at you, his nostrils flaring, but he says nothing, fine to be blue balled if it means you don’t win so quickly.

He expects you to stop your movement but you don’t. You keep pumping him, faster, harder, smiling softly at him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks, voice shaky, his hips stuttering into your hand- you won’t punish him for that right now. 

“Nothing.” You look at him innocently. “Just don’t cum.”

“Well, sweetheart.” He spits, still managing to sound like he has the power here. “I don’t have the willpower of a buddhist monk, if you keep jerking me off like this I’m going to cum.”

“I know.” You smile sweetly, pumping his cock up and down with your fist. 

He glances to your face, confused at what you’re playing at. He won’t understand until it’s too late, and so his gaze rips back down to where your hand is wrapped around him. 

“I’m-” He stutters. “Fuck, I’m going to-”

He can’t finish his sentence, as you keep jerking him at a brutal pace, his head lolling back. He groans, throbbing in your palm. 

You wretch your hand back at the last second and watch with a grin as his dick falls against his stomach, his cum splattering against his bare stomach. His voice is wrecked as he calls out, swearing. His breath is heavy, shuddering up and down. 

His dick is still hard and red, and his eyes fling open, glaring at you as you smile back at him.

“What the fuck did you just do , Newbie?”

You cross your finger over your heart. “A magician never tells her secrets.”

He opens his mouth to protest or cuss you out, but falls silent when you reach out and wrap your hand around his still hard cock once more. 

“Fuck! Fuck that’s so- fuck.” He groans, shaking his head. He lets out a wrecked sound from the back of his throat as you smear his cock in his own cum, using it to stroke him up and down once more. 

He’s oversensitive, but ruined. You look at him, jutting out your bottom lip. “You alright House? D’you want me to jerk you off again?”

He shakes his head and your movements instantly still, but then he nods. “No, yes. Fuck, that just feels so much more .”

Your hands resume their gentle movement as you grin wickedly. “That’s the point.”

 You pause, moving to nudge his legs apart and you resettle, kneeling between them. He sighs, relieved when your hand falls from his cock, giving him some reprieve. Instead, you spread your own legs, hand tracing down your soft stomach circle at that spot between your legs. You’re so wet, and you use the slick to run messy circles over your clit. You moan, your other hand falling to his non-injured leg for support. Your fingers dig into the skin as the pressure builds up in your core. He says nothing, and your eyes flick up to his, moaning out his name as you start to shudder. When you make yourself unravel in front of him, he doesn't say anything, but his cock bobs, neglected weeping at the head. 

You use your free hand to tug your shirt up, over your head. You spit into your messy palm, and reach up smearing both yourself and him against your breasts. 

“C’mon. Untie me.” 

Your eyes flick up to his, which are glued to your chest. “Beg.”

“No.”

“Then no.”

You shuffle backwards on the bed, and pat the mattress in front of you. “Move it, House.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m a tied up cripple. Did you think that one through?”

You shoot him a look, and he sighs but shuffles closer until he finally lays flat against the mattress, head still propped up by the pile of pillows. You settle between his spread legs, placing a kiss to his thigh. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He scowls. “I got rope burn from my own belt.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” You look up at him, doe-eyed. “I’ll make it better.”

Your hand dips down to the apex of your thighs and once more you smear your slick against your chest. You spit into your hand too, and massage your breasts, squeezing them. 

You lean down, until you’re positioned perfectly over his cock. It bobs at your attention, and you look up, grinning at House. He still scowls at you, but there’s an excited glint in his eyes.

You nudge his cock between your breast, and move yourself, back and forward. You have to find a good rhythm first, but soon you’re guiding your slick breasts up and down his cock. 

“Shit. Fuck, Newbie.” He gasps, and you bat your lashes up at him, quickening your speed. Soft, wet slapping fills the room and you moan quietly.

He groans, cock still overstimulated. You just let drool pool onto your breasts, squeezing them tighter as give him a tit job. 

You hear him shuffle against the sheets and you look up once more, still guiding his cock in and out. 

He looks like he could murder you, but sucks in a sharp breath. “Please, let me cum.”

You tsk. “You call that begging?”

He groans as you keep fucking him, his own weeping pre-cum making it messier. 

“Please, Newbie.” He growls, voice drawing out into a groan. “Please, fuck, make me cum.”

“You lose.” You say softly. 

He nods, desperate, cheeks flushed, stomach tensing. He’s close, wrecked after his ruined orgasm. He needs this. 

You take pity on him, and still your movements. He whips his head up to look at you, aghast, but he curses when you quickly straddle him, nudging his cock closer to your centre, and sink down on him. 

You sigh as he bottoms out, while he groans loudly. He’s big, but with how wet and ready you are, you take him easier this time. He stills nudges up against your cervix, and you feel so full when you sit fully down on him. You don’t have it in you to play him any further, and instead begin bouncing yourself on him. It’s not harsh, but his moans have a desperation in them that coil that feeling in your stomach once more. 

“F-fuck.” He gasps, cursing when you angle him deeper. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Or vicodin.” You say, teasing.

He shakes his head, face scrunched up in pleasure. “You. It’s going to be you.”

“Yeah?” You breathe shakily atop him.

“Yeah.” He moans. “You feel so fucking good. Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.”

You lean down, pressing your chest to his, kissing his neck softly. “Mmhmm. Just for you, House.”

“Just for me.” He growls, beneath you. At this angle, his cock nudges against that spongey spot inside you. Not having to ask for permission or be the one to beg, you hold that angle, fucking yourself on him, making his cock hit that spot again and again. 

He holds out well, but when you whine against his neck, and your orgasm rolls over you, clenching you against his cock, he lets out a loud groan. He bucks his hips into yours, and you sit back against him as he keeps cumming. He groans, and you feel his cock pulsing in you, throbbing against your walls. 

When he finally stops, he lets out a heavy breath, his chest falling and rising rapidly. 

“Fuck.” He says. 

“Fuck.” You agree, chuckling.

You swing your legs off him, his cum dripping out of you. You don’t care about ruining his sheets, and instead help him sit up, untieing him.

Even with his spend dripping out of you, and your slick smeared against his crotch, when his arms are untied he wraps them around your waist and pulls you closer, drawing you into a deep kiss. 

You smile against him. “Glad you’re not a sore loser.”

“‘M so glad you are.” He teases, lips tugging up.

[nokiatelava]

✿✿After The Storm✿✿

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Author’s Note!- This is my first time writing a story and even think about posting it! Please understand that it might not be the best as I am still trying! (the warnings probably don’t even make sense)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Summary- The past few months of your life have been at the lowest they’ve ever been. Feeling lost, with the thought no one was really there for you drove you mad, causing you to distance yourself from your family. The ones you love. But they came to your rescue to comfort you through your hardships.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Warnings- mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, mentions of wanting to self-inflict pain, begging (for her life), nightmares, wannabe angst, comfort (my heart is to sensitive)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧❁❁❁❁‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

You don’t know why you feel like this. The feeling it’s, it’s hard to describe. You’re here, you feel yourself here, you know you are here.

But you feel so far away… You feel, numb and lost.

All you felt was confusion, never knowing where anything was, what was going on. You were a mess 24/7. It made you feel useless. You were never used to feeling so gone. Having these feelings caused thoughts that made you feel worse. More insecure.

These thoughts were getting in the way of your life. How could you feel so useless although you had things to do? You had people to take care of, your family.

You had a place in your family, in the clan. You had a role, so how did you still feel so useless? You were losing your focus during the day. Your nights were shortening day by day. The thoughts would seep into your brain, picking at the deepest parts of your memories.

The few minutes of sleep you had were filled with terror. The things you saw, the scenes that played out. Memories from war, exaggerated to points of alternate endings, pain, family, it was always slipping in your ‘dreams’. The subjects left you with your eyes wide open at night. Looking, watching, protecting your family at hours where your family was supposed to relax and let the stress of the days fade away.

Though for you it felt as if the stress was increasing. You watched them, looking at their sleeping peaceful faces for hours, recognizing their breathing patterns as ‘safety precautions’. An excuse you used to reassure yourself as not being creepy.

You were the oldest. The oldest sister. The first child. The first baby. You were born to protect.

Deep in your mind you knew you only watched them because you wanted them to be safe. Sleeping makes you vulnerable, you have to be aware of your surroundings at all times.

Hm. Those words sound so… familiar.

“Don’t be vulnerable, at all. Keep your eyes open, and be aware of your surroundings at all times.”

And there you were. Y/n Sully, at the ripe age of 14, sitting in a war meeting listening to your fathers plan and motivational speech right before a raid.

It was terrifying. Hearing all these big words, half you didn’t understand, half you knew you could not pronounce after hearing it once even if you tried.

It made you nervous, the scenarios your father was describing were all gruesome, supposed outcomes that would happen if something were to go wrong.

Your father, Jake Sully, was talking at a pace that was hard to catch up with, the words flowing out his mouth so simply it confused you.

Now it was hitting you, your body started to feel all hot and bothered, squirming lightly in your seat to make it look as if you were only adjusting yourself comfortably on the thick wooden chair.

You squinted your eyes, staring deeply at your fathers mouth to see if any of the words would somehow start to flow together correctly.

But they didn’t. They never did.

Your vision started to double now, your ears muffling out as a ringing started to settle in your ears. All you could see was your fathers mouth just moving, and moving, and moving.

A small gasp rang in the air of the hut. It was quiet, the only sounds being a few small snores and shuffling from limb twitches every few seconds.

Your eyes were now open, once again. Your eyes could now only look around at the ceiling of your hut. Your ears twitching to every sound that was produced.

That dream… It was somewhat normal tonight? Although it did get you a bit nervous and quite overstimulated, you thought more about it. That happened 3 years ago. 3 years ago you were only 14, just 14 but already experiencing the world of war, and of danger.

Now you were 17. What a big number..

14 and 17, they sound so different it looks like such a big gap, but they’re not. Just three years ago being 14 you would still be counted as a baby not a teenager.

But now since you are to say you are 17, people see you as an adult, someone who is of age and needs adult duties. Oh how you wished to 14 or younger again.

To relish in the way people still treated you like a child and called you baby.

A loud snore is heard to your left, you are suddenly out of this type of trance. And realize you sat up, ignoring that, you turn your head to look to your left.

Just to see nobody but the All Mighty Lo’ak, spread eagle with his mouth wide open. Light gurgles, groans and snores are all that is heard from his open mouth.

You smile warmly at your youngest brothers antics, remembering what it was like to sleep so long at night.

Now your eyes burn, irritated, red and itchy all day long from your lack of sleep. Moving your eyes to look around caused your sockets to ache.

Thin, bright red veins crawl around your sclera. You thought at one point your thick lashes covered them up fine when all of this started happening.

But your inflamed eyes stood out like sore thumbs. You gained deep, dark circles right below your eyes that didn’t help you with your lashes “cover up”.

The people around you, your family, all noticed. Of course they did, how could they not? They see you everyday, they see your face everyday. So it was only a matter of time wasn’t it?

When all of, this, first started with you, everyone was worried. Your silence.. Was almost sickening. They weren’t used to it, you being so quiet, when most of the time they would all be able to hear your voice in the background.

Whether you were talking to someone in the hut, or yourself, which they found so normal. But when you stopped talking to them and yourself..

All they could feel was stress settle into their bones, the stress caused anxiety filled thoughts to meddle into their heads about you.

The constant ‘are you okay’s?’, being asked so much more frequently than before started to annoy you.

You loved your family. You loved them so, so much. But when they would ask you that same question over and over and over again it made you feel… nervous?

It always felt like as if you couldn’t speak. Your tongue feels 10 tons of lead as you open your mouth to speak. Your throat feels as if there was needles poking in your esophagus anytime you took a breathe to start speaking.

Your body felt like it was eating away at its self from the inside to out. It felt like a void, a black hole was setting in your body and was slowly starting to expand before it would eventually, swallow you whole.

There was another shuffle from the bed rolls placed in the hut. It sounded closer and much more, eager?

Y/n’s head turned to her right quickly, seeing her fathers silhouette start to sit up. Her eyes widened as she quickly laid herself down, closing her burning eyes and slowing her breathing.

She’s gotten away with this before, she’s the best pretend sleeper there is. She heard her father groan as he stretched and yawned, and that’s when it hit her.

The sounds of the birds and different animals chirping out sounded in the distance. Y/n’s eyes widened once more.

‘Just how long had she been awake?’

She closed her eyes, hoping for some type of miracle of sleep to take her into slumber. But of course, it never happened.

She heard the process of her father getting up, then, he gently shook her mother awake. Both of them exchanging a morning kiss that was very audible.

‘Gross.’

That’s the last thing she wanted to hear. We’ll sort of, it could have been worse.

But, in a reformed order, she waited for the dawn chorus to get more of a melody before she “woke up”, which was when she always woke up in the morning.

As the creatures sang and chirped louder, Y/n shuffled on her sleeping mat, rising slowly while rubbing her eyes and yawning. Jake and Neytiri smiled towards her.

“Good morning babygirl.” Jake said as he rose out of his mat stiffly, waddling towards Y/n to give her a kiss on her forehead.

“G’morning dad.” Y/n was able to force a raspy voice to submerge herself more into the act that she “just woke up”. “Good morning ma’ite” Neytiri’s sultry voice spoke towards Y/n.

Y/n looked towards her mother, “Good morning mama.” Y/n said with a small smile. Her parents soft words made her feel like a little kid again, remembering when they lived high in the trees deep into the forest of Pandora. Small tears brewed in the corner of her eyes before she blinked them away.

“Today, is not a busy day. You and everyone else, including me and your father don’t have much to do. Call it and ‘off day’ if you will.” Y/n’s ears perked up. Off day? No plans or revisions? No raiding or hunting?

“Oh… We’ll that’s nice. I might go into the forest later. Forage some herbs for grandmother, and grab fruit for us?” Y/n looked towards her parents, a questioning look on her face as she non-verbally asked for permission.

“That’ll be fine ma’ite. Very much appreciated from us and your grandmother.” Neytiri spoke, Jake was still tired, his eyes narrowed in exhaustion as he sat on their mat slouched. The small rolls on his stomach bunching as his pudge was poked out.

Y/n always thought her fathers stomach looked funny but cute, besides a baby’s stomach of course. Although his and a baby’s could be close in comparison.

As the morning stretched on, all of her siblings began to awake as the sun went higher in the sky. Neytiri was now making breakfast, some fruits that were freshly picked, by you.

You all sat at the table, legs crossed as you ate the slices of fruit off the large banana leaves, which were also picked by you.

You were quite the forager, and warrior which always shocked people. They always wonder how you balance training non-stop, but forage herbs and pick fruits.

Breakfast was as it usually is. Your siblings somehow managing to bicker as they stuffed their faces of the sweet fruit.

“Lo’ak! Can you just shut up!” Kiri yelled as she finished swallowing a piece of her fruit.

“You want me to shut up!? How about you!? You’re so annoying!” Lo’ak’s words were muffled as he tried to keep the piece of fruit in his mouth.

“Hey! Both of you. Knock it off.” Your father’s authoritative voice quickly cut off any type of rebuttal Kiri planned on making.

“And Lo’ak, you know you talk with no food in your mouth. Especially at a table!” Tuk spoke to Lo’ak with a giggle in her voice.

“Yeah I know…” Lo’ak mumbled.

While all that happened you thought of what you were going to do today. Since it was an “off day” you thought it might be a good time to finally talk to the person you’ve been begging to see.

Eywa, The All Great Mother.

She would help you. You knew this. She helps everyone, you’ve been meaning to talk to her for a while.

You chewed on your cheek nervously as you thought of when it would be a good time to leave, and what to say once you get to the Tree of Souls.

“Y/n?” A small voice faded into your ears as you were snapped out of your trance. “Hm?” You responded quickly as you looked down to your left.

Tuk was looking up at you, a hopeful look in her eyes as she stared at you.

“What do you plan on doing today? Can you hang out with us? Please!” She wrapped her arms around your forearm as she clung to you. You smiled down at her as you put a hand on her head.

“I’ll hang out with you guys, I just have something to do before I can.” You responded calmly as you stroked Tuk’s head.

“Do you have toooo?…” Tuk whined out as she pushed her face against your arm. “I would call it important. Maybe it has something to do with you… I don’t know though.” You shrugged as you made a questioning tone.

Tuk’s head shot up to look into your face. “Something for me? Do it! You can go do it!” She shook your arm as she grew excited.

One thing about Tuk, she loved gifts. Or any type of surprise that she could keep. So you made sure to remember to bring something back for Tuk.

“Well… I should be heading out now then, no?” You looked towards your parents for permission. When they nodded, you did too before rising to your feet, your body bent sideways as Tuk still had herself wrapped against your arm.

“Hurry back okay? Please! I want to play with you!” With a begrudging look on her face, Tuk slowly let go of your arm.

“I won’t be gone for long Tuk, I promise!” You raised your hands in surrender as you started to walk out the hut.

“Bye guys, behave for mom and dad while I’m gone!” You turned back as you waved. Hearing small and quick “byes” and “we will” before you sent yourself off into the forest.

Once you were on the grounds of the forest, you walked through the thick trees that outlined the clearing to the Tree of Souls.

Your body became fidgety as you got closer. Swallowing thickly as a lump started to form in your throat.

The tall stature of the tree intimidated you. The light pink tendrils swaying with the small breeze that passed by sent almost a comforting blanket of air as you became less nervous growing closer to the tree.

As you approached the trunk of the tree, kneeling down you grabbed your queue from the back of your head before you reached out gently grabbing a small bundle of the tree’s tendrils.

You took a deep breathe before you connected yourself to the tree, making tsaheylu.

A bright light enveloped your vision as you closed your eyes, a warmth washed over your body as you ‘seen’ the silhouette of what seemed to be a young Na’vi woman.

“Y/n, my dear child.. Why do you come to me?” The light yellow silhouette was now closer in front of you. Resting what felt like a warm motherly hand on your cheek.

“Great Mother… I-I am here to ask you a few things… I do not question your will, or the fate you decide. But I am wondering, why do I feel like this? Why does my body hurt all the time? Why can’t I just function normally with my family?”

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as you shot the questions out desperately like wildfire. You just wanted an answer. You feel as if you are not worth anything anymore.

“Oh Y/n.. Let it out, child. Cry and ask all the questions you want.” The woman that was speaking to you had to be Eywa. She was so warm as she held you close to her, her voice smooth with a soft tone.

“Great Mother help me please! I feel so gone, I have thought of hurting my own self just to know that I am real.. I don’t want to feel like this anymore… Please help me, I’ll do anything..” Your voice was soft as you begged quietly. Leaning into the hand on your face and warm body that stood in front of you.

“Do not fret child.. You will be saved, you are loved. Do not ever forget that. Everyone, is here for you.” Her soft hands caressed both of your cheeks as she leaned forward.

You were only able to get a glance of the features on her illuminated face. And oh, was she beautiful. It was the most divine thing you’ve ever seen.

A small smile broke out onto your face at her soft affirmations, nodding slightly in appreciation of her kind words.

“Thank you Great Mother.” You could see the white of her teeth as a smile appeared on her face.

She pulled you in closely to give you a hug. And it was the best one ever yet. The feeling of security, and happiness welded into your heart and spread through your body.

The feeling was nostalgic as it was the same feeling you always had when you were a young girl. Living in the trees of the forest with your parents and younger siblings.

“You’re welcome, my child…”

After that, the bright light appeared again before quickly fading out into black before you opened your eyes.

Your face was wet with tears and you panted at the greatest spiritual experience you’ve ever felt.

“Oh Great Mother…” You said once more before disconnecting your queue from the tree. Your body felt eccentric, a calm but brewing excitement was in your stomach.

You stood and began to turn away from the tree, walking back into the ones that outlined the clearing.

As you continued to walk back, you remembered. Something for Tuk, the herbs for grandmother, and fruit you wanted to pick.

You shut your eyes as you remembered you still had quite the stuff to do. Deciding to just try and get over it quickly, you did them in order.

In the end, you ended up with eight flower crowns, herbs you remember your grandmother needed to restock on, and fruits that were ripe enough for you and your family.

Now not just Tuk was getting a flower crown, but everybody was.

Once you were back to High Camp, your hands and arms full as you walked to your grandmother’s tent.

Once you were at the entrance to the tent, you spoke quietly, “grandmother? Are you in here?” Peeking in slightly, you saw your grandmother in the corner of the tent, rummaging through the drawers she left her herbs in.

She turned to look at you, a smile growing on her face. “Yes, yes I am here paskalin, come.” She waved her hand in a motion that told you to enter the tent. And you did.

“I was in the forest, and I decided I would grab some herbs I remembered you needing. Oh, and I made you this too.” You explained before showing her the flower crown you made for her.

“Oh yawntutsyìp, it’s beautiful, and thank you so much for the herbs. Come here.” She stood as she went forward and embraced you. You were completely joyed with the second hug you received today.

“It’s alright grandma. No need to thank me, it’s what I have to do, and what I should do.” She smiled as she kissed the top of your head.

“We all don’t deserve you, you are the sweetest girl I’ve met.” Your grandmother pulled your face back ash she decided to pepper it with kisses, like when you were a baby.

“Grandmother! Don’t do that! I’m not a baby no more and that tickles now!” You held onto her forearms as you tried to lower our her grasp, but she laughed and left a few more before she let you go.

“Okay, okay. But I do not promise that I won’t do it again.” She pointed at you with a smile. You gave her one back before you gathered all your other belongs and left. Now heading to your hut.

As you were at the entrance, you heard light conversations, your ears twitching forward as you heard the familiar six voices.

When you walked in, it felt as if all eyes snapped to you, a small silence adorning the hut before you spoke quietly, shuffling farther into your home.

“Hi guys..” It wasn’t long before Tuk shot up from the ground, her tail wagging as she ran to you.

“Y/n! You’re back! Did you do what you needed to do?” There was an eager look in her eyes as she looked at you, being expectant that you may have gotten something for her.

“I did. And here’s this.” You spoke with a smile as you placed the flower crown on her head. She jumped up and down in excitement before taking it off to look at all the flowers and their pretty colors before putting it back on her head.

“Thank you Y/n, thank you! I love it so much!” Tuk smushed her face against your stomach and wrapped her arms around your legs. Smiling more now, you rubbed her head and her back in soothing way before she let go of your legs.

Once she let you go you walked over to all your othe family members who were still gathered calmly at the table.

“And this is for you guys.” You felt shy as you passed around the flower crowns to your family at the table, a small purple blush settling on your cheeks as your skin felt warm.

“This is so pretty Y/n, thank you!” Kiri spoke as she placed hers on her head.

Lo’ak spoke next, “thank you sis, it’s really pretty.” When you looked over at him he already had it on his head, a bigger smile broke out onto your face.

“It is lovely ma’ite, thank you.” Your mother was next, then your father. “It’s beautiful babygirl, thank you.”

“Thank you a lot big sis, I really like it.” Neteyam was last but not least, you backed up as you looked at your family, happy as they all collectively wore what you made them.

“You’re Welcome guys.. You don’t have to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” You shuffled with the last flower crown in your hands.

“Least? You’re always doing the best for us, I mean I’m pretty sure nobody has a better older sister than us. Like come on, your the coolest.” Lo’ak raised his hands as he complimented you. Your family around all nodding and talking in agreement.

“Y/n, did you make one for yourself too?” Tuk asked as she looked at you.

“Well I made an extra one just in case someone lost theirs but I wasn’t planning one for me, no.” You answered question honestly, you never wear the trinkets you make unless someone forces you to because you never want to.

“Y/n. Put that flower crown on now.” Tuk put her hand on her hip as she gave you her sassiest tone. Your eyes widened at her sudden change in behavior before laughing and putting the crown on your head.

“You look beautiful syulang, the colors look perfect on you.” Your dad’s sudden compliment threw you off a bit, but not to much, he’s always saying something nice.

“Thank you dad.” You said with a light smile.

Tuk perked up as she remembered you were all supposed to go out into the forest, and she was going to make you go regardless of what you say.

“Okay, so can we all go now to the forest? Y/n your going,” she wasn’t asking you either, more so demanding that you go with all your siblings.

“Fine, fine! I was planning on going anyway Tuk, relax!” And that’s exactly what she did, sort of.

“Okay then come on come on let’s go!” You and the rest of your siblings all shuffled up to follow along after Tuk, going to make your way to the forest below.

Once all of you were on the forest floor, conversations erupted between everybody. You were brought into most if not all the small debates and bickers your siblings would have.

Tuk, not entertaining the incessant topics, hopped around as she interacted with all the different plants in the forest, giggling non-stop at all the plants reactions, or movements to her touch and presence.

You kept your eye on Tuk, just to make sure she wouldn’t drift off or touch the wrong thing. She was still so young anything could happen in the blink of an eye.

Which was bound to happen as you seen Tuk approach a txumtsä’wll, a poison-squirting plant. A very dangerous plant, labeled as one of the most dangerous if you don’t pay attention to how close you are to it.

“Tuk! Don’t touch that!” The panic in your body set and rose as Tuk’s hands and face were only mere inches away from the plant, she looked over at you in confusion as you quickly made your way towards her, pulling her quickly by her wrist away from it.

You ran quickly, a bit farther from where your siblings stood, a txumtsä’wll is such a huge plant, you don’t know how you didn’t notice it before.

Just then as your sibling jogged closer to you, a bit scared at your reaction towards the plant, the poison shot out. Hitting a tree that was right across from it. The poison deteriorated the tree, burning through the bark and sinking deeper into it.

Tuk stood in absolute terror as she saw what happened to the tree. Pandora is a dangerous place, though it is home to the beautifulest of plants and people, it has its parts and aspects that are the exact opposite. Killer plants and na’vi exiles that traverse the planet puts dread in your heart, making it feel more heavy.

You looked down at Tuk, turning her away from the mutilated tree, rubbing her hands subconsciously as if you were scrubbing them.

“Tuk, Tuk you didn’t touch it did you? You didn’t touch it right?” Your voice was strained as you hope to hear her say no.

“No… No i didn’t touch it…” Her voice was quiet, but you kneeled answer hugged her as a way to comfort her nerves as well as yours. You let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding as soon as she wrapped her arms back around you too.

You picked Tuk up, holding her head against the crook of your neck and continuing to walk. The rest of your siblings decided to ignore what happened and continue to chitter as you walked.

That was before Lo’ak decided to look into the sky and notice how eclipse was more than closely about to settle in.

“Shit-“

“Language.”

“Eclipse!”

You all paused in your walking all throwing your heads back to look up and see how eclipse was gonna happen.

“Oh shit, shit shit shit! Come on!” You rambled as you turned back the other way and technically started running back home.

“Just how long have we been out here?” Kiri asked as you all still ran, Tuk still in your arms. “I thought we were hitting an hour soon not two or three!” You said as you panted, it would be better to call your ikran now and just fly home.

“We should call for our ikran, we’ll get home quicker and have more breathing space from curfew.” You said as you stopped, panting as you turned towards your siblings.

They nodded and immediately started calling for their ikran, and you did the same. Soon, you heard the familiar screeches of the precious beasts. Once they were on the ground you all settled onto your respective ikran, Tuk sitting in front of you, before you all set off, flying home.

You were all able to successfully reach home, just in time for curfew.

The five of you rushed into your hut, chests heaving as some of you bent down, slumped as you took in the much needed air.

Your parents’ attention turned towards all of you immediately, ears and eyes observing.

“What happened? Are you all okay?” Your father was the first to speak. Standing and walking over to you all, he grasped your shoulders first, his eyes held heavy with worry.

“Y/n.. what happened?” You panted a bit more before stuttering out your answer,

“W-we just wanted to make it h-home on time *huff* within curfew.” Your father visibly relaxed, a small smile coming on his face as he let out a light chuckle, your mother fanned the food with a smile on her face also.

“We’ll you all made it back just on time, come, sit. It is time to eat.” Lo’ak almost threw himself on the table, settling in his spot around the table.

“Jesus Lo’ak how greedy can you be? You almost destroyed the whole table!” Kiri exclaimed, annoyed by her brothers gluttonous actions.

“Shut up Kiri! Gosh! Can’t do anything without you bellyaching like a baby!” Lo’ak quickly responded back with his own comments.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be bellyaching like a baby if you didn’t act like one either! You act like you’re five! Grow the he-!” “Kiri..” You gently placed your hand against her shoulder, smiling playfully.

“Calm down, let’s not fight and just enjoy dinner okay? You’re fine.” You turned your head towards Lo’ak, who was sitting with his arms crossed against his chest as he held a childish pout on his face.

“Lo’ak, you’re fine too, we know you’re hungry, eat.”

“He’s always hungry-“

“Kiri!” You squeezed her shoulder a bit tighter before you ended up ushering all your siblings to just sit and eat.

Dinner passed by slowly, which you were grateful for. Today, it felt like you had a new chance at life once more. You talked all throughout dinner, conversing with your parents and siblings about your day out. You all laughed as you brought up all the weird looking plants and funny acting animals you seen while adventuring.

Once dinner was finished, your body felt warm and full with the food that was held within your stomach, a hazy feeling in your head that felt to similarly to the feeling of nostalgia.

A small smile was etched onto your face as you helped clean up the table, though against your mother’s own protests.

Now it was time for all of you to go to sleep, you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. Only feeling as if you would be granted the blessing of sleep if you hoped and prayed.

You were now all settled into your sleeping mats, shuffling to get comfortable and saying goodnight, everyone began to close their eyes as the activities of the day finally made their bodies feel spent.

You were on your side, your front facing towards where your parents slept, you smiled as you seen the way your mother’s back was pressed against your father’s chest, his arm draped across her as they laid close together.

That was the only thing you looked forward to once you became older. Finding yourself the true love you’ve always wanted, a relationship healthy and full of love. Like your parents.

You adjusted your body to where you were now on your back, staring up to the ceiling of the hut, a warm blush enveloping your face as you thought of yourself having kids.

You calmed your mind so you wouldn’t get excited and chase your sleep away, your eyelids felt heavy, a good heavy as you felt the long-awaited feeling of sleep finally catch up to you.

Your eyes shut as you felt yourself fall into the world of your own slumber, alas, having the best dream of your life.

Author’s Note - Hi again! If you made it this far all i want to say is thank you for even reading! I don’t like this all that much but i feel so proud of myself for even finishing it and not just deleting it! But once again if you even read all of this, thank you so much 🤍!

[16bruises]

Mind’s Eye

blue is (y/n)

important information for writers who use google docs

word count: 1k

A woman’s intuition *chef kiss* Part 2 of Parasocial

“What a lover’s heart knows let no man’s brain dispute.”

-Aberjhani

I think (Y/n) knows. Or suspects something at least.

I don’t know which is worse. If she knew I wasn’t of this universe… she would know something happened to her Miguel. She might even realize I did that something.

If she suspects something else… cheating? maybe… I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never. Never. I’ve crossed the multiverse for this perfect family.

Maybe she suspects some kind of addiction. That would also be bad. That would be careless, thoughtless, and selfish. That would put her and Gabriella in harm's way. I couldn’t do that.

I don’t know what she suspects. I know it’s something. I saw her looking at me, she looked confused and nervous. Almost scared.

It made me feel sick.

I don’t know what she knows. I don’t know what gave me away.

I did my research. I know all the inside jokes, the references, and the signals she and her Miguel had.

Those are ours now, and I know them by heart.

I couldn’t have missed one of them. It had to have been something else.

I know everything about Gabriella, everything about (y/n), so what?

What was it? How did she find out?

Was it when I folded the clothes- did I fold them wrong?

Was it that I couldn’t calm down Gabriella last week and I got upset?

Was it when I dropped a glass while doing the dishes?

My mind is spiraling with a thousand little moments where I could’ve acted wrong. Sounded wrong. Looked wrong.

——

Miguel fell first, and I fell harder. I’m pretty sure.

I fell so hard. But he caught me and we were perfect because we loved each other so much.

When you fall for someone so hard, you just know them. Especially after being with them for years.

I’m not completely sure when I realized something was wrong, but once I realized it... I just couldn’t undo it.

I wish I could. I wish I could live in blissful ignorance and pretend that man was my husband.

But that’s not my husband.

I don’t know who or what that is. But it’s not my husband. No matter how much it may look and sound like him.

The realization came suddenly. Like when you realize what’s just about to happen in a movie. He was laying beside me in bed.

I’ve always had this habit of watching him sleep, I used to think I was so creepy for it but I stopped thinking that when my Miguel caught me and said he’d done the same thing. He’s always been so beautiful and peaceful in his sleep. But something just clicked that night. And I knew.

I just knew.

I knew something was very very wrong and I could feel my stomach drop. It was terrifying.

Almost like he knew in that moment too, his arms tightened around me. I didn’t get a lot of sleep that night. I knew too much and nothing all at once. It was very confusing.

This man, this Miguel, fell first. Just like my Miguel. But he’s falling harder too.

He’s doing both.

There’s something very beautiful and poetic about the connection between two people who deeply love each other. I love Miguel so much, he’s the love of my life, the father of my child, and my other half.

My Miguel loves so much. But he loves in a human way. A normal way.

This Miguel… He loves like he’s not human. Like he’s more. There’s too much. Almost unhealthy. Obsessive.

A few days ago he was near tears because Gabriella wouldn’t stop crying and he couldn’t calm her down on his own.

Sure, Miguel has never liked when Gabriella gets upset but he’d never gotten that sad about it.

Anytime Gabriella would get like that Miguel would always just accept defeat and let me try to calm her down, she was usually just hungry or wanted her mommy if Miguel couldn’t calm her down.

But the other night… he was so sad. He wouldn’t let me try to calm her down until he was about to be in the same state as her. I couldn’t calm her down that night either. It was a tough night for all of us.

Maybe that was the first night I started to realize, subconsciously. Gabriella wanted her Daddy, and he wasn’t there.

I… Don’t understand what’s happened to my Miguel. Where he is now. How this Miguel looks just like him, acts just like him, sounds just like him, is just like him.

Seems to know everything he knows…

Miguel was always very smart, so of course this Miguel is too. He would have to be smart to pull something like this off, right? Maybe a cloning experiment gone wrong or something?

Miguel was very hush-hush about his work. He said he had to be. I try to be understanding but I wish I hadn’t tried so hard now. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to be so understanding I’d understand what’s going on or what happened to my husband.

——

Late in the night, while (Y/n) and Gabriella are asleep I took a quick trip back to my home universe.

I don’t need to stress about the other me coming back anymore.

I checked up on the spider society, as well as my Nueva York, probably all too hastily.

I was distracted, my mind continuously drifting back to the quick, nervous looks (y/n) had been giving me.

I needed to find out what gave me away. I looked through everything. Analyzing every last detail.

Nothing.

Then suddenly something.

Like she just suddenly knew.

That’s not fair.

I did everything right.

I love her so much.

I love Gabriella so much.

I love them more.

“¿por qué soy destinado para sufrir?”

It’s ok.

I’ll go back to them. I’ll go home. To my perfect family.

And I’ll pretend.

I can pretend. I will. I’ll pretend I don’t see her looking nervously at me. I’ll keep loving her and Gabriella like my life depends on it. Because It does.

It does.

Part 3

[gunkbaby]

Thinking about Shuu BPD headcanon again. He’s 21 in TG, and given his loneliness I think it’s fair to assume Kaneki was his first favourite person. Like I acted very similar to Shuu when I had my first favourite person - including when the ‘relationship’ (i wouldn’t call what i went through a relationship personally. It was an internet mutual lol) ended, it went on to affect me for several years, to today, mentally and physically.

I get sad when I think about it, because I don’t like thinking about Shuu going through or feeling what I have - that horrible moment where you look back on your experience with someone, and you can only feel guilt, because you can see now that all you acted so inappropriately. Being overly clingy - dependent - on someone you barely know - because Shuu doesn’t know Kaneki in TG. Not deeply. He’s still in the moment of only wanting to eat him, everything he learns is compartmentalised as knowledge to use as manipulation and such. So his breakdown when Kaneki is taken away from him is a shock to his system - because this is the point where maybe one realises that this is not just about wanting him to eat anymore. It’s indicative of Shuu feeling something more for someone, which he’s probably never had before, and one can imagine how it might feel to realise - oh. I really fucked this person I adore up, because I didn’t understand myself well enough. And that shit hurts man.

Whilst a neurotypical person might be able to look at this realisation and handle it better, for someone with BPD/neurodivergence, this can affect one’s mental and physical health for years afterwards. A known symptom of BPD is not being able to recover ‘typically’ from breakups (meeeeeeeeeeeeee), often leading to self-harm, depression, and such, as well as taking a much longer time to actually recover from the breakup (generally. Ofc not everyone has it like this).

This also explains why in :RE, Shuu is seemingly just as obsessed with Kaneki - because he can’t fucking let go of it. He goes out of his way to ‘get Kaneki back’ for his own benefit, and I wonder if maybe, Shuu wants that Kaneki back so he can right his past wrongs. His newer awareness of his past actions weighs on him, and he wants to show that version of Kaneki that he has changed, that he’s not like That anymore - but he is, in a way. He’s still ill, and this is never brought up. Shuu gets better throughout :re, but we never see how, and either man’s on Elvanse or something, or he’s actively making an effort to restrain the ‘BPD side’ of him. I compare having BPD to having a dog on a muzzle - controlling it is horrible and it’s difficult, but if you don’t, the muzzle comes off and your dog is going to maul someone. Having BPD can be really terrifying sometimes - note: people with BPD are not monsters and if I see one more person say Shuu’s feelings are ‘creepy’ istg—

In early :re, Shuu’s actions can be viewed an overcompensating - trying to fix the damage he feels he might’ve done to Kaneki. He wants Kaneki back for himself, but not to eat him, to show Kaneki that he’s not the person he was. That he’s changed - but he hasn’t. He’s become self-aware, but this isn’t enough to change someone. Shuu still doesn’t understand that. He’s like a beautiful butterfly in that stage where the chrysalis is clear and starting to shake, but the butterfly isn’t out yet, and when it is out, it still has to wait for its wings to dry. Shuu is impulsive, and fails to properly think things out especially in a social situation (another symptom of bpd is impulsivity, particularly in regards to self-destruction). So he’s bombastic in rushing in and trying to get that Kaneki back, even if he doesn’t exist, and we can argue that this brazenness, this impulsivity, goes on to foster more destruction.

Therefore, it becomes even more weird that Shuu seems to recover after Kanae’s death in particular, because I feel like Shuu was already grappling with some guilt in regards to his past self. Kaneki throwing Shuu from the rooftop is met with Shuu’s acceptance of it - it’s a passive kind of suicidality. What better repentance is there - what is the best way to say sorry - than letting the person you hurt kill you? I know I’ve attempted or hurt myself in attempt to repent and say sorry for the people I’ve hurt, (I even became Christian, briefly!) But Shuu isn’t killed. Kanae is, and directly because they save him. Shuu’s love for Kanae is evident by this point, so one has to question how someone who already seemed to be passively suicidal, who presumably held a quite a hefty amount of self-loathing - would be able to recover from someone they love dying specifically to save them. Shuu tells Kanae to save themself (in my translation), he seemed passive in the prospect of Kaneki killing him, so this turn of events should be absolutely fucking devastating to him.

His entire family, bar one person, were killed to protect him. People gave up their lives, for him - a person who was extremely mentally unwell. Shuu is egotistical, arrogant, and selfish, but too often I see people conflate this with narcissism or self-love - narcissists don’t even tend to love themselves, it seems the opposite (I am not well-versed in npd pls correct me). I don’t think Shuu likes himself, particularly in :re. I’m honestly surprised he survived through :re sometimes, because I feel like the events of the Tsukiyama extermination would eventually kill someone who was already mentally unstable.

But after the Tsukiyama arc, there is very little acknowledgement of Shuu’s mental state. It’s like, oh, he’s fine now. Kanae isn’t even mentioned again, (I think), and it’s really weird. One can argue Shuu is just pretending to be fine, maybe Kaneki being back is enough to shift his focus from those events back to his favourite person - but that’s not mentally healthy. That’s not recovery. You can argue that maybe he learnt to cope, did DBT or whatever, but I doubt he would’ve had time for that in :re? Iirc it was kind of busy, I mean…Man got fired from like 4 jobs after losing his family - self-worth must’ve been in the shitter fr

Shuu is supposedly better by :re and the end of :re, but I can’t fucking buy that. Maybe I’m projecting too much, but I still haven’t recovered from my favourite person and it’ been three fucking years, and I have a parent who is willing to literally die for me, and it feels like shit. These things don’t just go away. They condense, and they stay. It’s like the dog won’t die unless you do, and even then, the pain stays.

I’m off track - the point is. I don’t like it. I get narrative time and that - Shuu isn’t the main character, but still. TG has so much depth and nuance in its characters and I wish more work had been put into Shuu post-Tsukiyama arc. (I also wish Kanae hadn’t died but fuck my stupid Baka life i guess)

I can’t help but feel like Shuu was ill at the start of Tokyo Ghoul, got even iller. And by the end of :re, he’s still very much ill.

sorry if this doesn’t make sense I cried halfway through and im tired

[animeyanderelover]

(First of all HIII, How are you?! It's been forever since I've sent you a request! Tbh I kinda lost interest in anime and had some private issues going on. But I'm really glad I've caught you with open inbox this time!) Moving on to the actual request: So let's say that darling forgot to lock/close the window at night before falling asleep. Which character(s) from Black Butler would be brave enough to take the risk and cuddle with the darling before they even officially confessed (meaning them and darling maybe met once or twice, but they are still in stalking phase) and let's say darling is such a heavy sleeper, they don't even notice? (Hopefully this made sense!?)

Nice to have you here again, my friend. I chose the characters that popped up first in my mind.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, delusions, stalking, clinginess

Risky cuddling

Timber, Thompson & Canterbury

🤫Those three haven’t really acknowledged their morbid obsession with their darling as anything wrong. The triplets can only really hyper focus on the fact that you are their mate and that is really all they need and want to know about you. Whilst Timber, Thompson and Canterbury have yet to figure out how to share once you are by their side, where you belong, they have no problem making up a schedule who watches you when. It’s one of the advantages that come with being a team of three, two of them can still work for Alois whilst the third one stalks you. It’s a whole system where informations and observations are constantly shared and once a problem arrives, all three plan meticulously how to remove the threat from your life.

🤫They don’t even think when all three stalk you together and catch your window open. They know that this is an opportunity to have skin contact with you, something all three of them crave for so there is zero hesitation. It surely gets a bit cramped since the demon siblings get into a small fight who gets which place, in the end two cuddle you from the side whilst the third one just sprawls himself flat on top of you. They don’t even view this as creepy or anything as all three are a bit delusional in their own ways. You’re technically theirs already and vice versa so cuddling you at night like this isn’t anything weird in their eyes. They try to get you to smell like them as much as possible to claim you as their mate. It’s a pity when they have to leave you but they hope that you’re going to forget to lock your window at night again soon.

Grell Sutcliff

🟥Grell seems to be delusional too. Whilst she knows that her darling might be potentially scared of her and her kind, she can just not shake off the images in her head. She just knows that you two could make each other so happy and her heart soars in her chest when she’s stalking you. Grell can’t get enough of her lovely darling, is often trying to finish her work earlier so that she can continue where she left. Grell knows that she can’t let William or other Shinigami find out about her sweet crush though, she fears the higher-ups might forbid her to see you again. Oh, that would break her poor, little heart completely. Balancing her work life and her love life is certainly not always easy but Grell somehow manages to find a way.

🟥The lady is a bit more on the shameless side so when she one night notices that you forgot to close your window, she just can’t help herself. She tries to be as silent as possible when she sneaks inside your house and she can’t help but silently fawn over you when she sees you sleeping deeply. She thinks it over for a moment, wonders if you’d wake up if she’d cuddle you. In the end she can’t resist though and crawls into the bed so she can lie next to you. It’s risky but the small rush of fear and excitement somehow makes things even better, the danger that you might wake up. Her heart beats giddily in her chest as she starts cuddling you closely, basking in your warmth. So this is what it feels like to sleep with you. She could do this all night but sadly Grell has to eventually leave you again, with a pout on her lip that is.

Dagger

🔪Dagger is completely gone in his head. Utterly besotted and infatuated, he’s too far gone to ever recognize his obsession. For Dagger his darling and him might as well be already together as he thinks that only he is the right one for you and only you are the right one for him. You two are basically already lovers, you just don’t know it yet. Dagger is clingy and follows you around like a lost puppy with shining eyes. He worships you and everything you do, you can’t do wrong in his eyes. The other string members from the circus have a hard time stopping him from obsessing since it happens that he threatens his friends with one of his knives, paranoid that they might try to take you away from him. They wouldn’t though, right? They’re his family, surely they would want him happy.

🔪Dagger panics a bit when he notices during his nightly patrol that you forgot to close your window. What would you do if someone decided to break in? Oh, how lucky you are that he’s always there to protect you. He quickly climbs up your house and enters your house through the open window. To his relief there seems to be no one besides him and you inside. He could leave but your peaceful form in bed stops him from leaving just yet as he slowly walks towards the bed. He’s softly cooing over you as soon as he sees you sleeping, his hands caressing your face before an idea pops up in his head. You wouldn’t mind, right? You two are almost lovers after all. His heart is thumbing excitedly in his chest when he cuddles you, your warm body so close to his, showering your face here and there with kisses.This is perfect, this is your future together!

Ran Mao

🌺Ran Mao isn’t really the aware type either since she doesn’t know that her behavior is creepy at best in the eyes of others. She just knows that she loves you a lot and wants to watch you and protect you all of the time. She isn’t very vocal but Lau notices her keen interest in you anyways. The way she peers up when your name is mentioned and how her eyes never leave you when you’re around. Lau doesn’t even try to help her realize her obsession though, he’s encouraging Ran Mao at best to follow through with her interest. If you make his little sister happy, he won’t do anything for you and will just take her side. He knows that Ran Mao will treat you well in her own ways so it’s not like he’s worried about you. It’s all for the person he views as his own sister.

🌺Ran Mao is alarmed when she sees how careless you’ve been by forgetting to lock up your window. She knows that there might be people lurking on the streets of London at night who would see this as an invitation. Before anything happens though, she decides to slip in your house herself. Her senses are keen so she quickly realizes that there’s no one besides you inside the house, something that reassures her. Then she sees you sleeping soundly though and Ran Mao can’t help her own curiosity. She’s always been shameless with her touches, you could say that she feels confident about herself. She hugs you tightly, her body pressing against yours. Her golden orbs are trained on your sleeping face and slowly she feels a blush creeping up her cheeks since you’re adorable when you’re asleep, so close to her.

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Haunted House

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yes! - anon

Prompt: You’re not a haunted house person, but when Elvis + his friends drag you along, you find more strength than you realize you had. Also, Elvis punches one of the actors lmao

TW: Mentions of basic haunted house stuff (blood, gore, guts, serial killers, clowns)

Rating: Pg-13     ||     Word Count: 1685

A/N: this prompt is so funny i love it. also this one is a lil short, hope that's ok! i gotta be honest with y'all...i hate haunted houses so much idek if Austin and/or Elvis could convince me to go in one...but maybe. i think i would never stop reeling if austin punched someone for me 😭

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“EP, come on! We’re gonna do the haunted house!” one of Elvis’ friends yells at you.

Your heart thuds with a moment of panic. Not the haunted house…

You and Elvis are hanging out with some of his friends at the Halloween festival in town. While you technically came in a group, Elvis had picked you up by himself and drove you to the festival in his flashy purple convertible. You’d met up with the rest of the group when you’d arrived but then quickly split off so the two of you could have some time alone together. Neither of you are calling it a date, but you both know very well that’s what this is. You’ve been sweet on each other since you met but neither of you have the guts to ruin the friendship you’ve built.

“Aright we’re comin,” Elvis yells back with a shake of his head.

He smoothly snatches your hand up, intertwining his fingers with yours. And before you have a chance to protest, he’s dragging you along to the haunted house. You slightly pull back on his arm but don’t have the nerve to stop him. As soon as your eyes land on the haunted house before you, you feel all the panic start to rise in your chest. You are not a haunted house person. You try, you really do, but it’s all just too freaky.

You finally find the strength to pull back against Elvis, and your fingers slip out of his hand. He skids to a stop and then turns with a concerned expression. You are staring up at the strips of white cloth doused in fake blood that are hanging down from the roof of the haunted house.

“Somethin wrong, baby?” he asks, coming closer to you.

You look up at him, trying to figure out how to tell him that you’re afraid without actually admitting it.

“No, nothing at all,” you respond, feigning a smile and glancing back up at the creepy gargolic figures on the top of the building. But something in your face must have given you away.

“You ain’t afraid, are ya?” he asks, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. You roll your eyes and shake your head, but refuse to answer him. He takes one more step and snatches up your hands, which you’ve been nervously ringing out. His hands are warm and soothing immediately, and you take a deep breath.

“You ain’t got nothin to worry bout,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll protect you from anything in there that tries to hurt ya. I’d die for ya, darlin. But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. So, if you don’t wanna go in, we’ll just find somethin else to do.”

You look up into his wide blue eyes, shining with the flashing lights of the festival. His eyes are trained on yours, searching deeply into your soul and refusing to move from your attention. You feel a smile creep onto your face and nod, squeezing his fingers.

“Okay, let’s do it. But you’d better stay with me. I don’t like these things,” you reply.

“I’ll protect ya, I promise,” he says, using his pointer finger to draw an X over his heart. “I’ll hold you. It’ll help ya feel stronger.”

“Alright,” you say, clutching onto his hand. “I’m literally holding you to that.”

He pulls you slowly up to the building and squeezes your hand as you enter. It’s pitch black inside the house, and there are creepy, infernal noises coming from everywhere. You wrap your other hand around Elvis’ bicep and pull yourself taut against his side. He pushes his shoulder ever so slightly in front of your face to help shield you from whatever horrors you might encounter as you walk along the dark path. You are so close to him that his smell is the only thing you can process. You momentarily close your eyes and breathe him in, feeling a sense of strange calmness. 

The air is freezing cold and feels wet as it blows ghostily over every part of exposed skin you have. You shuffle along hiding behind Elvis’ tall frame. You pass a part of the haunted house with blood and guts all around, disgustingly accurate and realistic. Someone in a bloodied pig mask jumps out at Elvis, and you feel him tense up and jump a little. But when he laughs, you feel his muscles relax which relaxes you, in turn.

You pass into the next section, with some sort of serial killer theme. This time, several people are stationed on each side, with bloodied faces and chained wrists. They violently shake at the chains, screaming and crying for help. They lean out and grasp toward the visitors. One of their hands almost brushes your shoulder. They're way too close for your comfort. A figure along the path revs a chainsaw and laughs demonically. You grip Elvis tighter and feel his hand sliding over the top of yours. The chainsaw killer jumps out suddenly toward the group of teenage girls in front of you and their screams echo throughout the drafty hallways.

You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing he won’t jump out to scare you since his cover is blown. You avert eye contact but smile as if you’re enjoying yourself, hoping not to provoke him. You’re doing better than you had expected. Elvis had been right, holding onto him did make you feel stronger, safer. You pass into the third and final section of the haunted house; the portion which is supposed to be scarier than anything on earth. Even in the darkness of the room, you can see the outline of Elvis’ features as he turns to check on you.

“You doin okay, darlin?” he shouts over the loud noises of screams, pain, and suffering that ring throughout the building.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“I think this is the clowns,” he shouts. “Which I’m not overly fond of, either.”

You smile.

“But I think-”

He is cut off by a bloodcurdling scream from a clown that jumps out of the pitch-black darkness as if it had just spawned suddenly. It’s on your side of the path but before you can even react, you watch as Elvis’ fist goes flying through the red shadows and crashes square into the face of the actor. The actor stumbles back, trips over a box, and falls onto the ground with a groan.

“Hey, asshole!” the clown yells.

You stare at the actor on the ground and then look up at Elvis with your mouth hanging open. Elvis grabs your hand frantically, and you both sprint toward the exit, running out of the house and back into the lights of the festival outside. Once you get into the fresh air, you hold a hand to your heart, panting. After a few minutes of catching your breaths, you glance sideways at Elvis. He makes eye contact with you.

A moment of silence passes before you burst out laughing. You shut your eyes tightly, grabbing onto your stomach as it starts to ache. You hear Elvis’ laughter join yours. And before you know it, you’re sitting on the ground with your face buried in your hands. Elvis is bent at the waist, his hand resting on your back. You can feel it vibrating with his laughter. A few minutes pass until your bodies can’t take it anymore. Elvis drops onto the ground next to you, bringing his knees up to support his elbows. You wipe some tears from your eyes as he rubs his fingers on his chin.

“That was much better than I was expecting,” you say with a final giggle. “I appreciate the effort, don’t get me wrong, but you didn’t have to slug the guy.”

You start laughing again, and he chuckles with a shrug.

“Well, I didn’t mean to! It was a reaction. It just sorta happened. Hey, I said I’d protect ya, and I did.”

“Yes, you definitely did,” you agree. “Thank you. I never would have tried it if it wasn’t for you.”

“Nah, you’d have been fine,” he replies, turning to look at you. “You’re strong and brave. Sometimes you just need a lil extra help when you’re tryin new things.”

You nod and silence falls. After a few seconds, you shrug and speak up.

“It was kinda hot though, I won’t lie,” you say, playing with a blade of grass by your ankle.

“What?”

“When you punched that guy. For me,” you add the last part on impulsively, liking the way it sounds in your head. "I mean you really punched him."

“Yeah well,” he replies, pushing the sleeve of his black lace shirt over his bicep and flexing it. “If these guns are built for one thing it’s protectin pretty ladies like yourself.”

He winks, and you chuckle.

“Is it…” you stop, unsure whether you want to finish your thought, “for protecting just any pretty lady or…”

“Why you askin?”

You shrug, playing coy. He leans over, brushing some hair from your shoulder and bringing his face close to yours. You turn your head and tilt it sideways, lining up your lips. He smirks ever so slightly, and you gently lean forward to press a kiss to his soft, luscious lips. He accepts you hungrily, placing a hot hand on the inside of your thigh. As you’re about to go in for a second kiss, a cold wind blows. The combination of the chilly sensation in opposition to his touch makes you physically shiver, disconnecting your lips. You release a frustrated breath. Elvis swivels his body around so that his legs are stretched around your body. His arms snake around you like a straightjacket, holding your arms into your chest. He crosses them over each other to rub the goosebumps away from your arms and rests his head on the top of yours. You sigh contentedly.

“You just want me all to yourself, don’t ya?” he asks with a toothy grin. You share the expression and nod.

“Yes please.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

**If you notice any triggers or grammatical errors that I missed, please let me know! :)

[miscfandomwrites]

A/n: Again, please keep in mind this is a repost from my dead account miscmarvelwritings.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warning: Language (duh), violence, field surgery, threats / mentions of death

Words: 1,044

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~

“It is good that you are not dead, if so, it would be a waste of time and materials…” The man told us, still circling us like a hawk about to dive onto his prey. 

He still looked familiar, and I could tell Barnes was stiff besides me, unsure of what to do. 

Before I could even blink, Barnes threw a knife right at the head of the strange man. With the amount of force and how accurate he is, it would’ve been enough to kill, if not, mortally injure someone. 

Yet all it did was pass through the stranger. 

The stranger laughed, then disappeared completely, his laugh still echoing around the room like some creepy horror film. 

I went to turn to Barnes to ask about him, but I couldn’t move. I tried lifting a hand, and I couldn’t. It felt like I was stuck in concrete, my body solidified, and  any movements, no matter how small, couldn’t free me. 

Barnes turned to me and had his mouth open as if he was going to ask me something before he noticed how stiff I was standing. He stood in front of me, the panic evident in my eyes. He turned on his com and asked for Bruce. 

“She’s frozen, she still has the implant in her.” 

“Even if you are no longer controlled by Hydra, your bodies will still be useful to me.” The stranger’s laughing voice echoed through the room before the lights flickered out.

~

“Guys, there’s an issue.” Tony said in a voice over the comms that was so calm it was evident that something was deeply, seriously wrong. 

“Is it the fact that (Y/N) is frozen, the lights shut off, or the fact that the power is completely shut off and we are all separated?” Barnes replied smoothly, trying not to freak Tony out even more.

“There’s a bomb.”

~

“Okay, do you feel the small lump on the back of her neck? It should be around the scalp, and feel like a tictac.” Bruce started instructing Barnes, trying his hardest to make sure he got the visual so I wouldn’t get hurt more than necessary to get the implant out.

“What the fuck is a tictac?”

“Nevermind, just feel for a lump.”

“I’m not finding a- nevermind, I found it.” 

“Okay, okay, you’re going to need to carefully cut it out. Very carefully, the area is going to be around the brainstem and the last thing we need is another injured team member.”

“Shut up and let me concentrate.”

I feel a sharp pain on the back of my neck, and I try to breathe through it. I can feel the blood seeping out of the wound, and James trying to cut the implant out. I didn’t even know I had one - I thought it was just a small knob or skin or something, not this.

Finally, I hear him breathe a sigh of relief and feel my body start to fall. 

“Fuck-” he started as he caught me, carefully helping me to the floor so I could rest. He tugged my head on his lap, forcing me to face-plant onto his thigh so he could reach his medkit and patch up the cut. 

“I thought you knew about this, cectpa” (sister) he whispered as he wrapped gauze around my neck. 

“I didn’t, I thought it was just a knot or something….not that.”

“Regardless, it’s out now. I will however be having a strong talk with the medical personnel and Fury about this, you have obviously not been thoroughly checked.”

“Kinda my fault if I’m honest…I didn’t really let anyone touch me when I first got here.” 

“I know, mama bear.” 

~

“Okay, I’ve tried and I can’t figure out how to either destroy or deactivate this bomb. I don’t know what to do, which is a first.” Tony’s only slightly panicked voice came through the comms.

“How much time is left on the timer?” Barnes asked, helping me up and to steady my feet.

“Fifteen minutes.” 

“Alright.”

Suddenly, Steve’s voice rang loudly through the comms. 

“Everyone has fifteen minutes until this entire thing goes up in flames, I suggest we start finding a way to get the hell out of here.”

~

Supported by Barnes, I staggered my way to the ship, my muscles tight from standing in the same position for such a long period of time. 

“I can’t believe you still call me Barnes. Or James. I told you to call me Bucky, and yet here you are.”

“So? I prefer it.”

“I don’t and it sounds weird coming from you.”

“But you know it’s me when I call you it.”

“....fair point. At least Lillith calls me Uncle Bucky.”

“Which is absolutely fucking adorable, by the way.”

We grinned as we finally got out of the building, heading towards the quinjet. 

We got on, only to be greeted by the sight of Natasha wrapping duct tape around the mouth of a hydra official who was currently hog-tied and on the ground. 

“Alright then, I’d say I was surprised but I’m honestly not.” I said as we paused at the doorway, taking in the man who currently held little, if not no, dignity.

We caught each other up on what happened as the final preparations were made to take off, checking everyone and all the gear, with five minutes still left of the timer. 

The quinjet started off and I barely noticed in time that Natasha had lept off the fucking plane and started running towards the building. 

“NATASHA!” Both Barnes and I shouted at the same time, I forced my way towards the back of the plane, staring at the ground as we hovered, waiting for her. 

The funny thing about some of these older-model quinjets is that the lift gets stuck sometimes, and won’t fully close all the way. 

I grabbed Jame’s shoulder as he grabbed a pack and I slammed into him, stopping him and taking it from him, stopping him in his tracks.

“I don’t care that this is reckless. I’m going after her, Barnes. And I need you to promise me that whatever happens, you will take care of my daughter.”

“I promise, сестра” (sister)

“Good. I'll see you on the other side, брат. (brother)

[eris-snow]

𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

Tags: Deku's birthday series 2023, izuku x fem!reader, angst

The days are numbered, and you make sure to remember. It’s still Zuku, still the same green-haired boy who you spent hours with every day of the week.

I didn’t sleep well last night. Could we talk after school? Please?

-Izuku

You sigh as you rub your face, nodding your head. Izuku had given you the note with hopeful eyes the minute you stepped foot into the classroom. This was the price you had to pay for blowing him off for an entire day.

It wasn’t that you wanted to, you just had to…organise your thoughts. Katsuki was a good person to have through it. The entire car ride home, he’d allowed you to lean into his side as he pats your once-injured shoulder. He’d be a good older brother if he wasn’t the only child.

“Rooftop, 3 pm?” He asks, and you nod again. You open your mouth to tell him something, but then you close it again.

Your voice is thick, and everything you want to tell him is stuck in your windpipe.

Finally, you manage a, “See you later,” before slumping down on your seat and try to catch a nap before homeroom starts.

--

“So…” Izuku laughs nervously, fiddling with his thumbs. Wind blows his messy curls around, ruffling them up even more as he addresses his questions head-on. “Is there something you’re not telling me? I understand if don’t want to, but—”

“The feeling,” You interrupt. “Can you…tell me what it feels like? The feeling you told me about after the villain attack?”

Izuku frowns, but he relents. “I described it in my note. Nostalgic. Easy to talk to, and someone…” He pauses. “Like someone I met before.” So close.

Your breath is shaky and biting the bullet, you blurt out, “I was at Tartarus yesterday.”

“WHAT?” Izuku squawks, before slapping his hand on his mouth immediately. “That’s where you and Kacchan went yesterday?”

He sounds so surprised that it is almost accusing. Quickly, you defend yourself. “All Might was with us—”

“All Might was with you?”

Crap. If this was an otome game, you would have chosen the wrong dialogue option.

You inhale deeply first, before exhaling. “I used to have this friend, I told you about him, right? The one that played the first version of Secrets with me.”

“You mentioned him.” Izuku lowers himself back to his seat, still weary.

“He got hit by a quirk of a guy in there. My friend may be gone, but—” You wince internally, “I wanted to know what happened. The villain said a couple of things that…got to me. I didn’t want to make you worried yesterday.”

“Well, you failed at doing that, but,” Izuku scoots closer, rubbing your shoulder. “I appreciate the thought.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you up yesterday,” You admit, eyes averted. “Sorry about that.”

You’re sorry about a lot of things.

“Don’t apologise,” He scolds, shaking his head. “If anything, I’m surprised you don’t find my description of you creepy.”

“Zuku, you’ve done weirder things,” You sigh, staring directly in front of you. Maybe if you don’t look at him, you won’t have to deal with everything that was going on.

You wish.

Yesterday was a stark reminder of what had started this mess, and now, you can’t get it out of your head.

You finally make eye contact with Izuku, seeing traces of his old self in him now.

He was always so caring, and curious.

Always the first one you’d tell if something was wrong.

Except, you can’t exactly do that now, can you?

--

(The day right after he found out he was quirkless)

“Zuku?” You glance around the clearing, picnic basket in hand. “I know you’re here, Zuku. There’s no point in hiding.”

There’s a pregnant pause, before Izuku peeks out from behind a tree.

“I made sandwiches,” You say, holding the basket out. “Mind if I join you?”

“Only for the sandwiches,” He mutters, slumping down again.

You don’t say anything that entire time you were there, simply letting him cry as you hug him tightly and listen.

It seems like he’s always the one doing that for you now.

--

Izuku frets over your shoulder even more on the roof. You check up with each other, and that’s when you realise: This is it. It’s going to be one of the last times this year that you’re ever going to have conversations this easy with Izuku.

Sure, he warmed up quickly, but each version of him wasn’t the same. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and each time you became friends with Izuku again, you felt your relationship getting even more distant.

This year was the only exception because you’d been through a war together.

And now you were going to lose him. All over again.

“You don’t have to tell me now,” You snap out of your thoughts and glance his way, startled. Izuku continues without pause, “Is the reason I feel like something’s off because of you?” He looks at me curiously, and all you can think about is how that curiosity was mirrored in his eyes so many years ago.

It’s been way too long, hasn’t it?

“Yes.”

It flies out of your mouth before you can even think, and the lack of sleep must really be getting to you because you swear a hint of recognition glimmers in his eyes for just a second.

When you blink again, however, it’s gone.

“Oh.” He mumbles. “Okay.”

What you would give to get him to remember him.

--

I don’t want you to find out why you feel like something’s missing. I’m afraid that if you get to close to the truth, you’ll only forget it all over again.

[everyonewasabird]

Brickclub 5.4.1 “Javert Derailed”

I’m going to resort to bullet points, because I don’t know how to tackle this chapter as a whole.

- We come to this book’s last mention of Napoleon, as Javert, who has up till now folded his arms like Napoleon confident, now holds his hands behind his back like Napoleon uncertain. It feels significant that Napoleon never comes up again after this, but I don’t know what it means. We seem to be at another Waterloo in some sense, but mostly in a sense of combining a reckoning with a senseless waste of life.

- Javert experiences himself as a crystal suddenly becoming cloudy, which feels true of him, but also as damning as the rest of this. We’ve seen his cruelty and his corruption and the blind eye he turns on his coworkers’ corruption. The fact that he thought all that was a limpid pool is... like I said, not surprising, but it’s pretty awful.

- There are no stars or moon because of the cloudy sky. That means this chapter is conducted entirely by the light of streetlamps, which seems deeply unfortunate. Streetlamps are the eyes and the point of view of Authority, and they’re the light Javert has always operated by. Javert can see clearly enough to know he needs to leave this place, but there’s no other light to guide him. Valjean in his first upheaval after the bishop found a desolate place with a whole lot of creepy natural lighting effects--but the light he saw by was God’s.

- Javert is caught between a dog and a wolf, which we know means evening. Evening might have been a dubiously good sign for Valjean a few chapters ago, but it doesn’t seem auspicious here.

- The narrator is very close to Javert’s pov in a certain sense--we have someone to explain in great detail the feelings Javert has but doesn’t understand; the narrator understands much more about this than Javert possibly can. It’s also a pretty biting narration, though--there’s a real thread of sarcasm and mockery running through all this, maybe not undeservedly, that’s going, “Oh, so you’re noticing the world is maybe a smidge complicated NOW, huh?”

Which, you know. Fair. But it’s interesting being asked to understand this deeply while being subtly warded away from sympathizing.

- I love the line about “internal rebellion in thought.” We know from his intro that one of Javert’s big things is hatred of rebellion. I take it from this that the reason he hates thinking is that the thoughts he would have if he had thoughts would be rebellious ones, and he knows it. He’s been crushing all his instincts beyond the basic “search for criminal, arrest criminal” for decades, and that’s the towering mass of cognitive dissonance that’s been piling up over his head for years.

- God, there is something so sad about this marginalized person being horrified by the idea that there might be a narrative about the world that isn’t Authority’s narrative, or that his own experience and point of view could matter.

- I do really get why the Valvert contingent is the kinky side of the fandom. Just saying.

- Just like with Valjean’s revelatory moment, this would all go much better if he could see the person who overturned his worldview as a person, not some kind of impossible saint--which in both cases would go better if people had conversations and relationships instead of Big Dramatic Moments Of Apotheosis and then running away. It’s worse here, though, since Javert’s failure to see people’s basic humanity is one of his biggest problems. We are not in any way leaving behind his black and white thinking, we’re just messing with which is which.

- God, Enjolras and Grantaire seem so functional by comparison.

- It’s hard to pin down where Valjean fell off the road to Calvary tonight. I don’t think the answer is Javert’s refusal to play Pontius Pilate. Like, that’s a good thing, and the thing that went wrong for Valjean feels a lot more wrong than that.

- Javert wishing he’d thought to yell for Enjolras et al to come kill him because Valjean was failing to do his job right is absurd, and perfect.

- His reaction to recognizing the existence of kindness is genuinely so sad. There’s so much there, in the fact that he thinks he was “depraved” for being kind, in the fact that he can recognize all this as kindness, in the way that recognizing that the world has contained kindness in it all along is a uniformly bad feeling for him. It makes me wonder exactly which things he’s trying not to think about hard enough to regret.

- Man, that “Javert’s ideal [...] was to be irreproachable.” I can’t relate to his authoritarianism at all, but I was the kind of autistic kid who wanted to know what the rules were so I could do things “right.” There’s something really heartbreaking about somebody reaching 52 years old--and a whole lot of harm done to people and the world--before they 1) encounter any of the limits of that mindset or 2) encounter the idea that there might be something better to hope for and work for in life than not making Authority mad at you.

- For all that he hates what’s happening right now, I love the implication that hatred isn’t what’s at issue here. This is about having a heart, in spite of not believing in having hearts, and it’s about humanity’s indelible contact with the numinous, no matter how much he always tried to ignore and avoid it. I fight with Hugo’s optimism a lot, but I appreciate it here--Javert tried to crush his own humanity and, in spite of all the inhumane harm he’s done, all the cruelty, the pointlessly mean death of Fantine and all the other deaths he’s no doubt caused, he failed: he’s still human, he still has a heart. He still has a soul, and that’s what’s hurting him so much.

- All he can see of this is anarchy. Which feels like it’s exactly the streetlight thing: the only light he can see this by is the light of authority, and so the only outcome he can see of this is a destruction of authority. The higher truths are making themselves apparent to him by force, but they don’t really show up in the light he’s seeing by.

- His little note is so sad, it’s so nothing. He’s spent so long ignoring these petty cruelties and indignities and thefts, and people have suffered for it. And he’s all, “Hey, Authority, please, could you maybe just, if it’s not too much trouble....” This is the great firing of Javert’s soul towards Justice at last, and... iIt’s not very good. And hey, it’s a first try! There’s a lot he could learn if he lived and stayed on this route! But.... you know.

And this is the night of the day the barricade fell: we know what good, true, right, glorious, loving rebellion for the sake of alleviating suffering looks like. This note is how far Javert is able to get down the road of rebellion, and wow is it not very far.

- He’s writing all this in the police station in the Place du Châtelet. Underneath him are the now defunct dungeons where prisoners stood in the mud and their own excrement for months chained by the neck, waiting to be shipped off to the bagne if they didn’t strangle or starve or die of disease first. I think it’s underlining how utterly insufficient Javert’s “rebellion” really is.

- It’s really striking me this time the degree to which in the last section he literally can’t see? There’s no light from heaven, there’s no light from houses or passersby--that is, from men. The only light left to him is that horrible, horrible streetlight, and it’s skewing his view of everything. When he looks down or up or even at the city, he can’t perceive anything properly.

It really feels like he died of the void that was left when authority vanished from above him, and that if some other light, any other light, had come, he wouldn’t have concluded there was nothing left.

We saw Providence come for Valjean time after time tonight, but nothing and nobody came for Javert.

[santapau]

this is probably a bit of a dumb ask but I really struggling w processing stuff sometimes lmao and I'm confused. is there a specific meaning to the end of the recent comic (like am I supposed to know what's jn the painting) or is it intentionally ambiguous just spooky? I feel like I'm totally missing the point of the end and I'm very curious. ♡♡♡♡ beautiful and obviously very engaging and gripping comic either way

We never see what’s in the auctioned painting, it’s left intentionally vague, so one can project any creepy variation on what we know up to that point. It’s implied there’s something very wrong with what the creature in the Maid’s arms DOES to the auction audience. Does it look at them in a deeply disturbing way? Does the crowd feel called, or accused, by it? Warned, perhaps? We don’t know, but we can imagine any of these alternatives.

On the dossier I made for this comic on Patreon, I share some further ideas behind the plot, but they are in a section called “headcanon”, so they’re only possibilities and not the “official” facts on the story, because we can only can count on what’s actually told on the final comic. But still, it’s fun to theorize:

1 The demonic creatures in the painting are from a Fairy Mirror realm, and the creature in the maid’s arms is an important omen child, product of a union of human and Fae. Its reveal to the humans world is the catalyzer of an impending doom. This is all, admittedly, very Rosemary’s Baby.

2 The Mirror world agent is likely a savior of our world: by recovering the forbidden art, they are trying to keep the realms apart, as it should be. The mirror mask acts like an astronaut helmet, it insulates them from our dimension. When they speak in mirrored text, it’s because the agent is at all times partially on their side, breathing their strange realm’s etheric air.

And so on.

Short stories have a door at the end, and this door can but shut in many ways, but some are more explicit than others: when a story ends with something like “she never saw him again”, we know that’s all we’ll ever know about the story. That “room” (the story) is in fact the whole house, there is nothing of importance outside of it. But sometimes, the door is left half open, and we can see parts of other rooms, maybe a patch of wall paper, or furniture, so we can picture a bigger house. I see these kinds of endings as an invitation to imagine what’s the house’s like. Or a guessing game, only there are no wrong choices. A question for which “maybe”, and “we don’t know”, are acceptable answers.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

God of Cowboys and Fools - Chapter Five

“I’m a coward,” he finally says. “So I owe this courage. Suppose I’ve owed it all along.”

I huff. “You don’t seem like a coward to me.”

“Not now, maybe,” he says, looking down. “But I am. I ran away when I shouldn’t have. But some doors, John… some doors only swing one way.”

Written for the @malevolentmadnessmixup event! Art by @futuresoon.

>>> READ ON AO3 OR BELOW <<<

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

Chapter Five

We skirt the town. I thought we’d go through it again, but nope: we do not, and now he’s leading back the way I came in the first place.

He’s deeply worried. It’s put lines in his face, and his eyes squint though they’re shaded under his hat.

“Why are we going back?” I say.

“Because we have to get some of the King in your body, or your soul will try to become fully human to adapt. You’ll die.”

Oh, no. Oh, no! “There wasn’t anything left!”

“We’d better hope you’re wrong.”

“I don’t want to die!” My voice breaks.

He sighs and looks over at me. “I know, John. I know. I’ll take care of you.”

You should find out why he’s so willing to help you out.

“Why?” I say, not obeying the voice, but because that’s just wisdom.

“I…” He stops.

“You?”

“I’m a coward,” he finally says. “So I owe this courage. Suppose I’ve owed it all along.”

I huff. “You don’t seem like a coward to me.”

“Not now, maybe,” he says, looking down. “But I am. I ran away when I shouldn’t have. But some doors, John… some doors only swing one way.”

I stare at him.

Bella whickers nervously, her ears flicking back. Smoke seeps from her nostrils.

He shakes it off. “I’m all right, old girl.”

“I want to know more,” I say.

“Maybe in time. I’m not proud of what I’ve done, John.”

To not be proud of a thing sounds dreadful. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he says, not looking at me.

“For something that makes you feel bad. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

He looks at me. “You want my happiness, do you?”

Why does the way he said that… Something about the way he said that… I can’t find it. “Yes.”

He looks ahead again, eyes shaded by his hood.

#

The horses clearly like it darker and colder. They’re trotting, content. Stars like I never imagined spread above us, familiar and not at the same time, though I know that all of them were once familiar to me.

I could have named them. Once upon a time. I can’t now. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am losing myself. “What if there’s nothing of the King left there?”

“There will be.”

There might not. The vultures have been pretty busy. And the voice laughs.

I don’t like that laugh at all. I shiver.

Arthur glances over. “Cold?”

“No. The voice is being creepy.”

Why in hell are you telling him this?

Because I want Arthur Lester to trust me.

Why?

I don’t know why! Why would I have to know why? I feel it, and I am King, and that means I get to do what I want!

Of course, Your Greatness, the voice mutters, perfunctory. However you wish. So you shall bend reality to your will.

“We’ll be there soon,” says Arthur.

Good. Because while the stars are beautiful, I don’t really like riding in the dark. I can’t see like I know I should be able to. These human eyes are awful. “Can I get his eyes?” I say.

Arthur jumps a little. “What the fuck what?”

“His eyes.” Wait. “My eyes. So I can see in the dark.”

Arthur stares. “If they’re left, I guess so?”

I will place my hope in that. Because this? Darkness? No. Do not like.

I will have those eyes.

#

The place of my birth is pretty noticeable.

It’s like a bomb went off, or a meteor landed. There is a crater, and burnt-black ground, and the remains of bodies I didn’t bother to harvest.

It doesn’t smell great. Arthur pulls his scarf over his nose.

I wish I had a scarf. I don’t remember it smelling this bad.

“Shit,” he says.

“Impressive, huh?” I say.

“Sure.” He slides off Bella. “Stay here, okay, girl?”

She doesn’t like that idea and snaps her fangs at him.

He just stares her down.

She whickers, shakes her mane, and settles.

I slide off Boring. “Stay here, okay?”

He says nothing. Good old Boring.

The place of my birth is ruined. I can feel the soil is dead here; nothing will ever grow again, down to the bedrock. I wish I remembered why.

“They really went all out,” Arthur whispers, kneeling and feeling the burned sand between his fingers.

“Do you know what happened?”

“Something terrible. It takes a lot to kill a god, and someone of Hastur’s level…”

“Hastur?” The name latches me, grips me, bites deep with teeth. “Hastur?”

He looks at me.

I shake. The voice did not say Hastur. The voice called me King, not Hastur. “That’s his true name.”

“Yes.” Arthur watches me.

Why didn’t the voice tell me? I don’t know, but I do know this: my name is John. Not Hastur. “I…”

“Yes?” Arthur prompts.

“I’m John.”

His expression is too quick for me to read. “If you want to be.”

I look back at him. I need him to understand, and I don’t know how to do it. “I’m John.”

He sighs. “A chosen name is more important than a given one.”

He’s right. My shoulders relax.

“Let’s look,” Arthur says, and carefully slides down into the pit.

#

“I died here.” It just slips out of me, not by my choice.

Arthur looks up from the heart of the crater. He’s sweating; dust and dirt have stained his skin, his clothes, but he’s still looking for me. For parts of him.

I haven’t done anything to help him. I stand here, staring. Because I am afraid. “I died here.”

“I know,” he says gently, and resumes his search.

It’s a mess. Human parts and machine parts, pieces of stone I know will hurt me if I come too close, black stains I think came from me (from him) when it happened, some kind of globby goo that was torn out of reality like insulation chiseled out of a wall.

I can’t move. I can’t get closer. The echo of forgotten pain keeps me still.

Athur doesn’t seem surprised. He works, looking, not judging me, digging, turning things over, checking under tubes, scratching bits of soil a couple of inches down.

“Should…” I don’t like this place. “Should we have found something by now?”

“We will,” he says. “I feel it. Something of yours is still here.”

I’m afraid. “Will it take much longer?”

He stands and looks me in the eye. Somehow, the dirt smudges have not taken away from who he is; the grandeur, the power, the immortal wizard is all still there, strong and steady, and he holds my gaze. “I swear I will keep you safe, John. I swear it.”

As if his word means anything. The voice hissed that. Furious.

“I don’t think the voice likes you,” I say.

He tilts his head. “Out of curiosity. what does it sound like?”

Don’t tell him.

Of course I’m going to tell him. “Male?”

“Uh-huh. And?” prompts Arthur Lester, wizard.

“Sort of…” My brain recalls something. “Southern?”

He goes very still. “Southern? Like Georgia, or something?”

He’s right. “Yes. Lengthens his vowels. Has a twang.”

Arthur Lester goes dead pale.

The voice in my head laughs. Laughs, cruel, a deep and terrible chortle.

“Right. We are in a trap,” says Arthur Lester, and looks around. His eyes glow; his hands burn red internally so bright that it’s like his flesh is burning underneath his skin. “No more time to waste.” And he wills the sand to move.

Dirt flies, sand rising like some wild storm, but it’s just him, just Arthur Lester, fulfilling his promise, teeth bared, eyes lambent, digging a hole that was not there. He suddenly leaps out of the hole he dug in the crater of my birth (leaps so high, so graceful) to land before me with some kind of—

With a black, squirming, power-ridden—

With a long black thing that he shoves right into my mouth.

It is a tentacle, thick, muscled, moving, and it chokes down my throat before I can even breathe. I gag.

“Gotta go!” he says, pulling me out of the crater.

The tentacle is wider than my esophagus, and it tears going down, and I hadn’t realized unable to breathe would be so frightening.

“Go!” Arthur cries again, and somehow shoves me onto my horse.

Bella looks furious. She lets out scream, this sound that isn’t remotely right, remotely horse, remotely anything, and then Arthur is mounted, too. “Ride!” he commands.

And somehow, Boring understands, and takes off.

I almost fall. I still can’t quite breathe; the tentacle is down in my gullet now, compressing, crushing my lungs by expanding my stomach, but it is… it is…

Oh.

It is joining me.

It feels so good. It feels like shade after walking in the sun. It feels like cold water on cracked lips. It feels so fucking good!

We are being attacked.

I almost didn’t… I’m so busy feeling this that I barely noticed, barely registered. Spells crash into the ground on either side of us, spraying sand, blinding with green flashes. Shouts chase us from behind, angry, weaving curses that Arthur Lester, wizard, somehow defrays without even looking twice. And I…

I feel… power.

The tentacle is almost completely absorbed. No more pain. No more shock. I remember… things.

These fools dare to chase the King in Yellow?

I pull Boring up.

“John! No!” Arthur cries ahead, trying to stop Bella, who has no intention of turning around.

They’re trying to catch me. Oh, no. No, these fools don’t get to do this. They will pay for their arrogance. I turn Boring, who is trotting and whinnying and his eyes are wide and wild, and I face eight wizards on horses who gallop at us like arrows shot straight and true, wielding wands and spells and human magic.

And I destroy them all.

I don’t even have to think. It isn’t a consideration, something to doubt, something to question. They have come at me, and they have come at what is mine, and they do not get to live after that.

There is no word for the spell I use because true gods do not need words. I simply will it to be, and my power rises from the earth and the air and all the places it scattered and bends to my will.

I cast a golden wave like the sweep of a broom, beautiful, and merciless, and utterly unavoidable.

They scream. They disintegrate, exploding into chunks of foolish matter and meaty pride. Their horses are not spared, but go mad in honor to me, giving me insanity, feeding me, and scream and run in all directions, wildly uncontrolled.

Our enemies are dead. I am victorious. I am…

“John,” Arthur breathes, pulling up next to me, staring at me with wonder, with awe, with (fear, desire, regret, relief, hope) too many things to read.

I don’t…

I feel…

“John!” he shouts as I fall from my horse, and my last thought is that this stupid human body breaks so easily that I think I truly hate it.

[chapter six] [masterpost]

[shreya11111]

Shows are not meant to be analyzed deeply and picked apart from every angle with every micro expression studied for some hidden meaning, that’s the tumblrification of media and ultimately bad media literacy. If the audience can’t figure out something just by following along and watching a show’s twist and turns, then it’s bad writing. So I’m sorry to say that Byler can’t happen because it would be fanservice for the very online and the toxic gay nerds who think they know better than the rest of us just because some (usually creepy) “media scholar” tells them the color of Mike’s pants actually means Byler will happen on the summer solstice if you look close. Mike and El are obviously endgame because that’s the story the show is plainly telling 🤷‍♀️

media literacy is…

according to https://www.medialit.org/reading-room/what-media-literacy-definitionand-more

what we bylers do when we analyze stranger things as a show isn’t something new. a lot of us have been part of fandoms where this has been done several times, or we just naturally do it as a part of our media consumption. it isn’t just restricted to tumblr, so idk where you’re getting that from. @naturallybrielle literally has a tiktok account where she makes analysis videos so…

there are also accounts like @causeineedu and @/girlskth that make analysis videos on tiktok on this topic.

how is it bad media literacy to a) do exactly what the definition of media literacy is and b) analyze a show that is clearly meant to be analyzed?

and before you come saying that “it’s not that deep” or that “the duffers wouldn’t put this much effort into the details” i would like to direct you to this tweet:

the duffers themselves have said many times before that they put care into the details of this show. so why are we so wrong to analyze? they clearly want us to.

the fact that noah schnapp confirmed that they’ve been building up will’s feelings for mike since SEASON 1 should tell you this much.

besides, a lot of the analyses and theories i’ve seen in the byler fandom make tons of sense. it’s literally the reason why the byler community has grown so much. and this is coming from someone who used to ship midleven immediately post season 3, but stopped early 2020 (i think?) due to the anti-midleven analyses i read which made so much sense. mike and el are simply not a good couple. they would be so much better off as platonic friends.

also going back to the part about the analyzing of facial expressions - i’m assuming you primarily mean mike’s facial expressions. you see, the thing is that we, as an audience, do not have direct access to mike wheeler’s thoughts. we don’t know what’s going on inside that very complex mind of his. the only thing we have left to rely on are his facial expressions, body language and general actions. we don’t have much other choice BUT to analyze those aspects of him. and when we realize that mike’s actions directly contradict with his facial expressions/tone of voice/just the subtext in general, then what conclusion are we supposed to draw other than him not being genuine?

you also oversimplify the analyses we do in this fandom. it goes deeper than just the color of mike’s pants or whatever. yes, we may bring up color coding when it comes to mike and will but it’s not just some random color is it? it’s typically blue and yellow in reference to the “blue and yellow meets in the west” theory. which, if you actually paid attention to the show, you’d see that it makes sense. there are MULTIPLE times throughout this show (and especially in season 4) where mike and will have been color coded blue and yellow respectively.

aside from color coding, we also look very very deep into the characters, into the overall narrative, into the parallels/foreshadowing/subtext. we spend a lot of time actually trying to unravel what the duffers are trying to say with this story - which btw is completely valid. just like any other form of art that tends to be analyzed, analyzing stranger things (a tv show which is another form of art) makes complete sense.

and come on now, if you think that midleven is endgame because that’s what “the story of the show is plainly telling” then i’d seriously like you to rewatch the show, but this time with no inherent biases and with an open-mind.

in conclusion, byler is endgame and byler nation will never stop analyzing and having fun.