#like i know hes free now but the one we knew is dead. he died. he could never truly escape no matter how many copies of himself he made

[im-smart-i-swear]

rip konpopoz i miss you every day

am i the only one who always saw him as the vacuum cleaner from teletubbies? was it intentional??

[icedteaandoldlace]

Wow, I really am the biggest animal lover in this family. Not that that's anything new, but you'd think someone would be interested in trying harder to keep these kittens alive.

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[animeshotsh]

Devils Touch | Dad!Lucifer x Kid!Reader |

Summary: Being forced to take pills alongside your mother just seems enough to end in hell...

Warnings: Suicide mentions | Death | Canon Violence| Cursing | Lucifer its a softie | SFW | Reader its between 5-7 | Reader takes the form of a sheep/cat mix | Reader's mom sucks tbh | Maybe platonic!yandere Luci? |

When you opened your eyes everytning was red. Screams and insults filled the air, the smell of blood and other things you could not understand filled your nose making you gag.

"Mom?" You asked to no one, no one took note of you. All you could see were strange creatures, some more human and some more animal.

Tears went down your face, you could remember being forced to take some pills. Your mother crying while she did the same.

Something was wrong, really wrong.

"And what do we have here?" A stranger voice said taking you by the collar, you ended up meeting with sharp red eyes, and that look....it did not mean well.

"L-let me go" you screamed trying to get free from this thing. Reacting out you saw your hands were now black with claws, making your mind quick you attacked that thing.

It let you go with a small "fuck". You took of running, not knowing where to go, but you could hear that thing behind you chasing you.

Taking a quick look behind you ended against something. Looking up someone wearing a white suit with a cane and a hat that had a snake looked to you.

"P-please help me" you tried again "I dont know whats happening I want my mom"

The stranger took you by your arms to inspect you.

Lucifer stood there with no emotion seeing the "x" on your neck. Suicide? He thought seeing the mark. But you were just a kid, with fluffy cat hears and a tail, however your hair was not the one from a cat but the one from a sheep...or a lamb. Two little horns did also appear on top of your head.

He cursed inside his mind. Maybe you were killed, or forced to something. You were too small, your soul did not let out any type of malice besides the "sin" of taking your own life.

He soon saw a Demon coming towards him, most likely looking for you, and with no debout their intentions were not good.

Just one flick of his hand the Demon was gone. You were shaking looking at him and then around you.

Fuck, he wished Charlie was here, he knew she would be able to calm you down.

Taking care of sinners was not his job. His job was to rule hell, but he could not just leave you in here. He was sure you would be dead again in seconds.

Or worse.

"Calm down Kid, im going to take care of you" his voice was as soft as he could. Turning around opening a gold portal to his home "whats your name?"

He nodded once he hear your name, carefully petting your head. He passed by many old photos of his family. A maid appear besides him looking at the sinner in his arms.

"Please, prepare a bath and get some clothes " Lucifer requested passing you to her.

Or well, trying to.

"N-no, I dont want to go with her!" Your hands took an iron grip on his suit.

Lucifer almost panicked at your state but tried to remember what he used to do when Charlie was this young.

"Listen, she is someone good. You will be taken care off. We can have lunch later, and some sweets"

"...chocolate?" You asked with pleading eyes

~☆~☆~☆~

After your bath and food you were in a better mood. Lucifer used this time to show you around the house while asking you different questions to try and know why you had ended in here.

He showed you his ducks collection and almost passed out by how much you loved them. You ignored him as you played with the duck, almost burning the wall with one of them.

Lucifer decided to tired you up and then look up for your mothers soul. If you two died together...then the chances of her being down here were high.

~☆~☆~☆

It was harder than he expected. The sugar from the chocolate gave you so much energy you ended checking every room of the house. Lucifer behind you trying to stop you from getting hurt or from breaking something.

"Catch me if you can!" You joked while he tried to balance two statues.

With a swing of his wings he was able to catch you, rolling down the stairs and laughtning with you. You seemed....happy almost forgetting your situation. To you this could be nothing but a bizarre dream.

~☆~☆~

Once you were tired enough, Lucifer took you to one room. His heart made a flip when you took his arm pulling him close.

But he needed to go and see where your mother's soul was. So he made the maid stay outside your room just in case you woke up.

~☆~☆~

"That fucking bastard, son of a bitch, cursed slut" Lucifer screamed almost burning his office. Turns out, your mother was not in hell or heaven, she was alive, whatever she was triying to do failed for her.

He wanted to go there and kill her himself. Not only her but heaven as well, you were just a kid. Sure, you had cursed, and lied sometimes, he had read your record of sins. But that was not enough to make you end down here.

He knew your faith was sealed. Heaven would never admit they made a mistake or listen to him for starters. He had to calm down and think.

And after some minutes he decided the safest option would be for you to stay with him. He was not sure how he would explain to you who he was or what had happened. But he knew a few things, besides him no one would try to hurt you, and also you made him feel happy again. He could raise you, be a better father, be someone you could relay on.

"Its decided" he said to himself, picking up a pen and a paper, he wrote down your name and his last name. This way the other sins and overlords would know not to mess with you.

"Dont worry (y/n) im going to protect you.

~☆~☆~

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey feel free to ignore this if its too dark but could u do ford x reader where he comes back from the portal and finds out reader died while he was gone

The moment Ford uttered you name he should’ve known something was wrong, especially the way Stan eyes didn’t meet his, his face was set in a look that told him that whatever happened to you he still wasn’t in complete acceptance of it.

‘Stanley,’ Ford said as he stepped closer to his twin brother, who has evening uncharacteristically silent the entire time, ‘where’s y/n?’

Stan fiddled with his fez hat as he debated whether or not he should tell Ford a lie, or tell him the truth that to this day he himself was still very much in denial over, but he decided that his brother should know regardless even if it did hurt him to admit it. ‘Y/n’s dead Stanford.’ Stan finally said and could hear Ford gasp in the silence that followed afterwards.

‘What? When?’ Ford asked, looking over at his desk and at a framed picture of you and him in your youth with a hairline fracture on the glass cutting across your face. He wished this was some joke but Ford knew his brother well enough to know that he’d never joke about you or death in the same breathe, you were their friend since childhood, and his childhood sweetheart; So to find out thirty years later that you were no longer living hurt Ford in ways he couldn’t fathom, it was like his heart had been violently ripped out of his chest and smashed into a million pieces, the air left his lungs as quickly as the news came and he had to find something to sit down on.

‘They died last this day last month…they held out hope that you’d come back one day, said they had something they’ve always wanted to tell you but before I could ask what…they passed away…I’m so sorry.’ Stan told him as he went to sit next to his brother who had tears silently streaming down his cheeks. You and Stanford meant a lot to Stanley- and a hell of a a lot at that- you were the only person in New Jersey who didn’t give a shit about Ford’s six fingers, or being labelled as weird because of your association with them, you just didn’t care enough about those things and instead encouraged them to keep being who they were without shame.

Stanley also knew that Ford had a thing for you and still has from how he kept things you left at their parent’s house when you were younger, it was fun to tease him about it until he started actively encouraging Ford to say something to you, anything! Lucky you did go out for a bit but it wasn’t until everything blew up between and only then did your relationship fracture and fall off. With Ford dedicated all of his time and effort to his work rather than your crumbling relationship, it had gotten to the point where you just left without a trace, assuming that he’d be off in the woods on his latest monster chase.

Stan tried to keep telling you to hold on, just until Ford came home, but your health had rapidly declined so severely that there was nothing anyone could’ve done to prevent it. It hurt Stan to loose his best friend and his unofficial but in his heart of hearts official in law, he couldn’t help but think of how Ford would react upon hearing that the person he still longed for had died with a heart heavy with regret. You wanted to marry Ford, it was your biggest hopes for the future but unfortunately that future didn’t come nearly as soon as either you or Stan would’ve liked.

‘And we ended on less than satisfactory terms too.’ Ford said sombrely, feeling deep within his chest that something was missing, he felt hollow and empty knowing that he had missed out on setting things right with you. He had missed the chance to marry you happily like he saw his alternate self did in a dimension that he visited briefly, and looking back at it now only caused Ford more heartbreak. ‘There’s so much I have yet to tell them,’ he trails off as he looked to Stanley who had now started to tear up at this point, ‘I still love them Stanley.’ He admits and Stanley clenched the fabric of his pants within his firsts. ‘I know and they loved- no-still love you too, right until their very last breath all they could think about was you.’ Was all he said.

‘I wanted to marry them Stanley.’ Ford said weakly as all the future prospects he had for you and him slowly slipping from his grasp, one by one.

‘I know.’ Stan replied.

‘I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them.’

‘I know, they did too.’

‘I wanted them.’ Ford cried

‘And they wanted you just as much.’ Stan said as he brought his brother into his side as he wept while clutching at his chest as though his heart was burning him from the inside out. it hurt Stanley to see his brother in pain, such pain that it brought him to his knees, begging and pleading for a god that doesn’t exist to bring you back to him. Stan hated knowing that you and Ford could’ve had a happy ending, only to end up with a tragic one instead; So he remained by Ford’s side in solidarity as he cried and shouted until his throat was raw and he feel asleep due to exhaustion.

‘You deserved better,’ Stan said to no one in particular, ‘you both did.’

[arceus-insanity]

So When Did Things Start Going Down Hill

I don't mean everything is shit after this, but things looking back started getting (steadily) worse starting with. Check bottom for more indept view on each option

A) at first I wasn't going to include this one as it happened before most of what I considered shit started happening, but with how much it blatantly favours this lazy-ass child abuser, how could I not include it. And of course, it shows so much evidence that he hasn't changed at all, like only even offering to teach Midoriya and Bakugo to manipulate his favourite victim Shoto

B) when it first happened I was devastated but expected this to lead to greater change to the hero system and society. But no, just a meaningless footnote to the heroes epic battle

C) literally no one questions how a top hero was just so eager to kill someone, or buy a wife, breed her, abuse & neglect his kids to the point one of them was believed dead. Only citizens whining about how Dabi is bad for them

D) here's this apparently big shot hero from the States we've never heard of before and immediately dies. If they wanted to keep Shigaraki from having too many powers they could of just chalked it up to the heroes interupting the process

E) the Todoroki family all blames themselves, this isn't to go into the complexity of abusive households, but to absolve Endeavor's responsibility and guilt. Despite the fact that as the one who created and was in control of this situation, he should be held accountable for theirs as well. The only backlash for his shit is framed as ohh poor Endeavor, he didn't mean for the child he threw away to create consequences, and now people are being mean to them

F) what was the point of this arc? Deku barely asks a villain three questions before giving up. He learns the HPSC had Lady Nagant acting as a secret assassin against any undesireables for them, covered up her arrest and got a replacement assassin (Hawks who has at least one confirmed extra jurdical murder under his belt). Witnesses an innocent woman get attacked for her appearance and was turned away from multiple shelters for said appearance. Deku: Hero Society is the Best, Nothing needs to change, because not every single apple in this basket is rotten to the core! Looking back he just looks worse for this

G) so this child, who due to his parents mistake was blackmailed under great threat & risk, into giving information to the blackmailer, deserves to be chained up and forced to take further risk by the heroes. Remember Endeavor never faces any consequences, nor does Hawks, but this child, Yuga, gets treated like this.

H) once again what was the point? How does Edgeshot know he can do this? How does he know how to do this? Why is he a top hero who has never interacted with Bakugo before this, sacrifices his appearing to be unharmed self, for a random hero student in the middle of a war? Oh and Edgeshot is revealed to be alive at the end of the manga, because Heroes have no consequences and live in magical fairytail land. Again what was the fucking point!

I) This was originally going to be two points, Oh poor Endeavor, victim blaming part 2 and the hospital battle. But I ran out of options and Endeavor doesn't need another personal option. So we got the whole Todofam blaming Dabi/Touya this time, and Endeavor being a whiney responsibility dodging coward again. Then we see the heroes knew that the villains were going to go after Kurogiri, kept him in a hospital. We see that the people aren't going after doctors or patients just trying to get to Kurogiri, get demonized for it. We have victim blamer/ pick-me Tentacole say that their kids will be attacked for this (already happening), and that it's up to them/ him to inspire the violent quirkests to not constantly attack, assualt, and otherwise discriminate against them, no need for the quirkists to be given any responsibility or consequences for their own actions. Oh and Spinner has major brain damage because how else was Tentacole supposed to win this arguement. Bonus points for Hawks calling for Toga to be murdered, doubling right back down on his previous murder

J) in this already overcrowded 3rd act lets make sure all these background characters get a scene! And despite the fact it took years for Deku to get a powersuit in the epilogue, All Might just randomly gets one, no build up or anything. AFO's backstory is left in the past so no one has to consider anything

K) I had hope going into this, but at every turn they kept on making it worse. Deku only tries punching and attacking, rather than make any attempts to actually talk unlike what Shigaraki has been doing since his introduction. Is randomly able to enter Shigaraki's head, doesn't have to see just how fucked Hero Society is as it gets cut short by moral scapegoat AFO coming in and revealing he orcastrated everything! Oh and he flat out kills Shigaraki. Living up to his name and not his goal. Deku that could my ass

Sorry if this comes off as super negative but I've been wondering this for a while, and well I'm pissed at the ending. Here's some people I want to hear the opinions of:

@moodyvoid @nagitosstolenhand @codenamesazanka @shortstrawberryshake @darkonekrisrewrite @nothingofinterest @itsnothingofinterest @villainsandvictimsalliance

Feel free to @ more people

[wuucchoo]

Understanding Tsumiki and Megumi's relationship

Hey there! It's me, Megumi's defense attorney - here once more to defend my boy.

I've been seeing A LOT of people saying they cannot sympathize with Megumi's grief because they don't know Tsumiki that well. And although I would argue that you don't need to know the person who died for you to sympathize with the one who was left behind - I do understand what these people mean, i don't agree with them! But I understand why they think this. And yes, we dont know Tsumiki.

However, we first need to understand why gege chose to present Tsumiki this way. On a surface level, she can only be seen as 'the thing that would cause Megumi's downfall' - we dont know her thoughts, her ambitions, her real personality, anything really - except for what Megumi says about her. A 'textbook good person'.

And that's because she is a character that we were only able to see through someone else's eyes. We don't know Tsumiki, because Megumi doesn't know Tsumiki.

BUT WAIT!! What do I mean by that?

Before that though, I would like to say first! This doesn't mean that Megumi's love for her is diminished by this. Just because he doesn't know her doesn't mean he doesn't love her. Megumi cares about her more than anyone in his life, and that's a fact!

Now we can proceed! What does this mean? Let's look at this page from ch 56: origin of obedience:

This was a case that they have been investigating, and it is pretty damn close to Megumi's and Tsumiki's old school. And yet, the thought that Tsumiki might have went to the bridge with her classmates never crossed his mind. He doesnt know that Tsumiki is someone capable of breaking the rules, going against curfew, and joining her friends to go to a haunted bridge in the dead of night. This boy Megumi thinks his sister is a damn saint.

He put Tsumiki on a pedestal, and it resulted in her turning into nothing but the mold of a good person Megumi uses to judge other people. If a person is not Tsumiki-shaped, then they're not worth saving. ((Luckily for Yuuji, he IS Tsumiki-shaped lmao. But anyway!))

Truth be told, I used to think it sucks that we never knew Tsumiki outside of what Megumi says. I never felt bad when she died, I felt bad that Megumi's sister died. I felt bad FOR Megumi.

And now that I actually think on it, THAT was the exact point. We dont NEED to know Tsumiki, we only needed to see her through Megumi's eyes - and through that, understand that Megumi doesn't really know her that well.

It is something that Megumi have to mull over. Why did he keep Tsumiki at an arm's length despite how much he cares for her? Why is it so hard for him to let people in? Why is asking someone for help so difficult for him?

ITS BECAUSE OF THAT MFKER TOJI!!!! IM TELLING YA'LL!! /hj

Look at the face he was making in Toji's memory. That's a kid who shows his emotions outright. My boy is pouting (つ╥﹏╥)つ. But when Gojo met him, Megumi has become a total idgafker (at least on the outside). And thats not only because Gojo was a stranger - coz thats how he looks like when he talks to Tsumiki too. It's because he became that way when Toji left.

Anyway, my point is, due to Megumi's abandonment issues - he never let anyone in. EVER. Not even Tsumiki. Megumi put a wall between him and other people - for his own protection. The one who came a little bit close into breaking that wall is Yuuji (and we are yet to see how that goes).

And this is why, we as the readers are all detached from Tsumiki's character. Because we saw her through Megumi's eyes, who loves her and cares about her very, very much - yet despite that he never let her get too close. (っ- ‸ - ς)

If you read up to here, whats up! Thank you for reading! Feel free to counter it or anything, Im happy to discuss!

((also something to add: Megumi cares so much about Tsumiki because she's the first one who actively chose to stay - amidst all the people who left.

this was inspired by a great megumi character analysis i found on twitter:

read it if you have time! its really good!

[ineffably-human]

We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.

I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?

Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.

But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.

--

So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.

But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.

There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.

That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.

And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.

'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'

--

Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.

Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.

But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)

The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.

--

The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.

And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.

"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."

--

There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.

They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)

Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.

[sapphire-weapon]

I would've not been so upset about the whole Leon simping over Ada issue on RE6 if Capcom had given us at least some resolution to their decade-long cat and mouse game. If you're gonna center the narrative on Aeon, give us *something* new. But we got nothing. Like what was the point. Same old vague bullshit and Ada leaving and Leon being all aDaAA 😣 exhausting

I swear to god, sometimes I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

It was resolved.

At this point in the game, Leon is legally dead. Helena gives him the opportunity here to finally escape his hellhole of a life and disappear with Ada.

And he says no. He says no because he realizes, in that moment, that he never really knew Ada at all.

For the entire series, Leon's taken Ada's help and presence for granted, but RE6 makes him realize that he never took the time to wonder why she did that. He assumed it was because they had some kind of special connection, but Simmons is proof that Ada creates "special connections" with whoever's most useful to her at the time.

In the past, her "special connection" was with Wesker, and OG Leon knows this. Now it's Simmons. And he's standing here, at the end of RE6, wondering why she works for those guys and strings them along, only to then turn around and help him when the rubber hits the road.

He asks the question, realizing he doesn't have an answer. He doesn't have an answer, because he doesn't know her.

And Ada has no interest in giving him the answer or being pursued by him, either.

So, in the one singular moment in this entire franchise where Leon and Ada have the chance to finally run away together and be together, they both look at each other and say "no."

That was the point.

The will they/won't they question was answered, and the answer is: they won't.

At the end of the day, their relationship is a professional one. The pretenses of love between them are gone. Their shared arc has reached a conclusion.

That

was the point.

And that is why Ada's been absent from ID, Vendetta, and DI -- and why she was originally planned to be in RE8. Her story with Leon is over. The two of them are now free to pursue independent storylines, even if they do still wind up running into each other again in the future -- they won't be beholden to each other the same way.

And that was the point.

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch11

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, Fingering, oral (male receiving)

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

Two Months, Ten Days until D-Day

There were a select few of people in all of Alchemax that were exempt from receiving the Rapture. Those people were the IT department. Those in the IT department had a different reason to stay working for the company.

Fear.

They learned things that they shouldn't know. They were the ones who had to fix all those horrible machines and computers that helped kill and torture people. Whenever something happened, those in the IT department were always the sacrificial lambs.

If they pissed off the wrong person.

Aaron was one of those people. He knew that Miguel was not fond of him. Some of his coworkers were already distancing themselves from him in fear of them catching Miguel's wrath. Miguel was the son of the CEO of Alchemax. You piss him off, you're dead.

Sitting on his computer, Aaron cursed lowly. It wasn't his fault that Miguel had it out for him. All he wanted was to ask you out. Aaron wanted to free you from Miguel's slimy grasp.

"He needs to pay, but how?"

"Looks like (Y/N) is requesting help again. Her heater died again. What's with her?" One of the IT workers whispered.

Aaron glanced at his screen, seeing your notification popped up. Miguel will defiantly be there if he replied, but this was the only chance for him to see you.

"She's just as bad as Miguel! Helping him all the time! How many coworkers have we lost to Rapture?"

Rapture? Aaron chuckled lowly as he accepted your request. Now that was an idea.

---------

"Miguel, you're going to be late if you stay like this." You sighed softly as he rested his head against your lap.

"I still have time. Let me think."

You pouted slightly, hiding your blush from Miguel. You were sitting on his desk like a trophy, but his head was buried against your lap. It felt so nice, having him give you this affection. You gasped quietly as Miguel's hands gripped your thighs.

"Miguel!" You huffed.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his hands stroke your thighs. His hands felt so warm. Trembling as Miguel groped your legs once more, you tried not to think about him pinning you down on his desk. Miguel was always handsy, but he hadn't fucked you yet.

Oh, how your wet dreams got more vivid with each passing day. Miguel's hands always roaming your body as if he was checking you, turned you on so much. You wanted to ask Miguel why he hadn't made a move yet. Why he was waiting so long?

"Alright, it's time for my meeting with my father and the shareholders. I trust that you'll be a good girl and stay here to sort my schedule, hm?"

"Yes, sir," You whispered as Miguel kissed you. Miguel just smirked,

"Hm, I might have to punish you later for calling me 'sir' again." His smile turned wicked, "Don't complain, understood?"

"Yes, Miguel." You replied, feeling trapped in a daze.

As Miguel left, you shivered in delight. Miguel was so cruel to you, but you loved it. You knew that Miguel was twisting your common sense and reason, but you couldn't stop him. Part of you wanted Miguel to taint you.

"I need to work on Miguel's schedule." You hummed.

---------

Miguel was quiet as he approached the elevator. Lately his father had been dragging him to more of these ridiculous meetings. Miguel had better things to be working on. More important things to be working on.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Miguel scoffed as he arrived on the final floor. These meetings were just preparing him to take over Alchemax. It wasn't like Miguel didn't want to take control, it just wasn't in his interest right now.

"Ah, Miguel. Good of you to arrive on time." Tyler Stone spoke, Miguel's father.

"With how often you have me join, I have unfortunaly gotten into the habit." Miguel spat.

"This is for the best." Tyler hummed, leading Miguel into the board room, "Before the others arrive, I wanted to ask you about your assistant."

"(Y/N)?" Miguel's lazy gaze turned into a glare, "What about her?"

"Couldn't help but notice you spending more time with her. Now, I won't interfere with your love life, son, but her? You and I both know there are better."

"Ha, small thinking for now." Miguel snickered, "Give it time. You'll come around."

Everyone will come around once Miguel becomes an advance human like you.

"I've also noticed your new status in the city. I'm quite impressed with the connections you've made, son. I actually called this meeting for you to announce your new status."

"So they can seal their fate to us? Haha, as if my title is needed for such a simple task."

Of course not. Miguel was only destroying villains for you. He wanted to show his dominance, but it ended up turning into more. Miguel underestimated these villains. They kept coming back. If they weren't killed, they would not stop.

Either way, Miguel was enjoying the fight. He knew this wasn't why you became a hero, but this was a damn good feeling. Miguel enjoyed destroying the lives of others and tormenting other villains. They were nothing compared to him.

Nothing compared to you.

Miguel was enjoying the life of a villain.

"We also need to do something about that Spider-Woman. She's been seen around Alchemax and our warehouses." Tyler spoke.

Miguel resisted a chuckle. How cute of you. Trying to 'save' Miguel and stop the oh so evil Alchemax. This just meant that Miguel had to corrupt you more. He had to teach you a better lesson. Something that would really make you break.

"Ah,"

Something that will ease the both of you.

---------

Miguel had been in the meeting for a good while. You were still waiting in Miguel's office since yours was still cold. Twirling around in Miguel's chair, you started to think about your plan again. You were officially starting to bring down Alchemax.

It was a long and hard process, but you had found some good help. You were getting good information to take down Alchemax, now it was just a matter of concrete evidence. That was going to be hard because if you hacked into the system...well...

"Argh, this is annoying." You huffed.

You needed to get information without being spotted. Perhaps you could get someone in IT to cover your tracks. Remembering Aaron, you smiled at the thought. He might be able to help you hide from Alchemax's tight cyber security!

"At least one of us is still entertained." Miguel huffed as he entered his office. You gasped and hurried to him,

"Welcome back! How was your meeting?" You asked. Miguel raised a brow as he stroked your head,

"I need to destress."

"Ah, I'll give you a massage!" You chirped. Miguel just gave smirked,

"I was thinking of more than a simple massage."

Ohhhhh, you felt your panties get damp. Miguel grabbed your hand, leading you to his desk. You could feel your heart nearly leap out of your chest. Was this really happening? No, maybe Miguel just means something else.

"Come here," Miguel chuckled, patting his thigh.

Without hesitation, you sat on Miguel's lap. His hands roaming your body once more as he kissed you. As you made out with Miguel, you could faintly see smoke in the city. Why did there have to be trouble now?

"Will you do me this favor?" Miguel whispered in your ear, his hands reaching his crotch.

"M-Miguel," You gasped.

You were folding hard. Ignoring the city, you unzipped Miguel's pants and let him push your head down. There you were, kneeling before Miguel with his dick hard in front of you. This was something you've only dreamed of.

"S-Sorry in advance if...I'm not good," You apologized.

--------

How cute. You looked so shy and innocent as you kneeled before Miguel. His hand rested against your head, motioning you back towards his dick. You had a job to do and another one to ignore. Miguel smirked since you had made your decision.

Gritting his teeth, Miguel resisted a groan as your tongue licked and swirled around his cock. You were so inexperienced, so innocent, so pure...all because you were waiting for him.

Your hands were holding onto Miguel's thighs as you finally took his dick in your mouth. Ah, how good it felt to have you submit to him. Obeying his every whim and need.

"What a good girl, (Y/N), sloppy, but good." Miguel chuckled lowly.

You whined with his dick in your mouth, sending a vibration up Miguel's spine. How fucking tempting you were. You hummed and started to suck on his dick, giving Miguel pleasure. The warmth of your mouth, sending Miguel into a small frenzy.

This was something that Miguel never cared for. Something that was just in the way of his work. If only he knew how good this would feel having you suck him off. Miguel was going to have to get you on your knees more often.

"Mhm!"

"Keep sucking, you're doing so good." Miguel groaned as he pushed your head more.

Miguel tried his best to control himself, but he couldn't help it. His hands moved on their own as he moved your head. You were moaning and whining as you sucked against his dick, rubbing your legs in the process.

--------

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you felt Miguel's dick hit the back of your throat. Your panties were soaked and you were desperate for some relief of your own.

Feeling Miguel's dick twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. You stroked faster and sucked harder, wanting to touch yourself. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think. Miguel gripped your hair and grunted as he pushed you down, causing you to wince and nearly gag.

"Swallow." He demanded.

You shivered at his tone and flinched as you felt him cum in your mouth. Coughing as Miguel removed his dick, you swallowed hard and started to pant. You felt dazed. Air was finally entering your brain as you stared up at Miguel with lust.

"Good girl, now I believe you deserve an award." Miguel chuckled darkly.

Gasping as Miguel placed you on his desk, you whimpered as he took off your panties.

"Someone's been really patient."

"Mhm, I-I have," You whimpered, your cunt clenching to air.

"But, you'll have to be a little more patient. Just until...I know you deserve the ultimate reward."

You let out a small whine, but gasped as you felt Miguel's fingers against your clit. He spread your legs and watched as you twitched and moaned against his touch. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you wanted more.

Moving your hips, you tried to match Miguel's pace, but he held you down. His fingers moving faster against your clit, causing that burning knot to tighten in your gut. You arched your back, feeling your brain fog up again as you cried his name.

"M-Miggy!" You moaned, cumming hard. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"What did I say about that nickname?" He asked.

"S-Sorry-Ah~" You flung your head back as Miguel inserted two fingers inside you, pumping them deeply, "Ah~ M-Miguel~"

"Now you'll have to wait longer,"

Your vision blurred as you focused on his fingers curling and thrusting inside you. They were so big, much better than your toys. If only Miguel would bully you with his dick instead. You would have to behave more in order to get that reward.

"I-I'll behave, Miguel! Ah~ mhm,~ I promise~!"

-------

Music to his ears. You were breaking so easily for him. Miguel, himself, was tempted to fuck you, but he couldn't. Not yet. He couldn't risk you getting pregnant yet without his own genes enhanced.

"Miguel~" You cried, your body arching once more.

"How sensitive." Miguel whispered as you orgasmed, "That will be enough for today. I do expect more of these...personal destress sessions in the future."

"Mhm....Y-Yes, Miguel," You panted, taking a moment to catch your breathe.

Miguel just chuckled in response as he wiped his hand with a napkin. All he could think about was your so called, 'stamina'. How easy were you to cum and fold from his touch. You were so cute twitching from his fingers alone.

Glancing down at your damp panties that laid on the floor, Miguel just hummed as he picked up them and put them in his lab coat pocket. They were going to be used for his tests later.

"Allow me to take you home. It's been quite a day,"

---------

You hummed to Miguel, finally composing yourself. Your head was still dizzy and your gaze blurred. Your body was still aching and desperate for more, but you had to behave. Behave for Miguel so he could reward you later.

Your gaze shifted from the smoke in the city, back to Miguel. You wanted to please him. To do as he said.

"Thank you,"

Oh, how your super hero days were numbered.

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

Next Chapter

(Still on small hiatus, Final Fantasy is AMAZING!!!!)

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi

[lets-try-some-writing]

I had an ANGSTY idea

I imagine a scene where it's just a normal day at the base where the children are just hanging out and talking with their guardians (optimus and ratchet are over seeing decepticon activity)

somehow the topic of how long humans lives are comes up. The kids are oblivious to what they just revealed to the bots and seconds after this fact is shared all the bots freeze with realization and horror dawns on them.

Now whenever the bots are with the kids they act more happier and more willing to do what the kids want (and alot more protective) but under the facade is nothing but depression and sadness (the kids still oblivious)

Oh and optimus has a breakdown since he sees them as his own sparklings

Angst my old friend. I love this concept.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

It was not exactly a secret when it came to the short lives of organics compared to Cybertronians. The team were well aware that most organics tended to only live as long as a few centuries at best and possibly a millennia or two with technological adaptations. For them the lives of organics were still but a passing wind, but at least with a few centuries there was time for Cybertronians to grow close to their organic comrades. The team had each met other organics before and during the war, they knew how the organics near Cybertron worked for the most part. Thus they were not particularly concerned with the humans, although they did wonder why they grew so quickly and seemed to deteriorate with such swiftness when they had centuries left ahead of them.

The team largely did not think too much on the biological functioning of the humans and instead focused on their work. Despite that, eventually one particular Prime found himself uncertain.

Optimus found it particularly confusing how humans seemed to die so young all the time. In his free time he took joy in reading documents from Earth and learning their history. It seemed all of Earth's influential people died young. Julius Caesar, Mark Antony, Plato, Socrates, Sun Tzu, George Washington, and so many other influential figures, all dead before their second century of life. It concerned the Prime greatly, especially upon noting how involved the children, June, and Fowler were becoming in their activities. If there was some sort of genetic issue or other ailment that killed off those with influence, he needed to know immediately.

He brought his concerns to Ratchet who in turn gathered the attention of the team. This concern quickly spread and so as one unit the team researched human lives and reasons for offlinement. Before too long they came to the startling conclusion that almost every recorded human life ended when the human in question was around a century old. Some older religious and mythological records indicated that once upon a time humanity could indeed live for centuries, but that seemed to no longer be the case. Seeing this, fear for their charges wormed its way into the sparks of the team. Why were the humans dying so young? What happened to humanity to shorten their lives so drastically? Were their young charges doomed to die in the same manner?

Those questions haunted the team and in the end they decided to simply ask the children to see if there was some form of cultural misunderstanding causing them distress. The children were of course a little confused and it ended up being June who had to explain as the team huddled around, eager to understand and see if there was any way to stop the impending deaths of their wards.

Optimus: I have studied your history and it seems in the last few millennia humanity has failed to live longer than a century at most. Why is that?

June: We only live so long Optimus. We aren't big metal aliens from space like you.

Ratchet: That is true, but we have met organics before. Those that interacted with Cybertron before the war generally lived at least two centuries.

June: I-

Bulkhead: Is there some sort of illness killing you off?

Arcee: Maybe a conspiracy? I've heard of some organic civilizations killing off the older members of their population.

Bumblebee: *Is someone hurting you? We will stop them in that case!*

Optimus: Bumblebee is correct. If your race is under threat, we will gladly assist in stopping the needless death.

June: What? No. What you read are old myths, stories made up by humanity during various ages. They aren't real, we don't live much longer than a century and we never have.

Ratchet: What? But your historical records-!

June: Stories Ratchet. Just stories. Humans usually live around ninety years before we die. That is just the way of things.

Bulkhead: Then the kids-

June: Just like every human before them, they will grow old, and then when their time is up, they will die.

Not a word was uttered at the team slowly scattered, each considering what had been revealed to them. Suddenly a great deal had changed, and not a spark could change things.

Arcee had lost plenty of partners over her long life, but a human? And to old age of all things? She was terrified of that end. She would have to watch as he deteriorated and his frame failed him. How could she look at Jack and not imagine the way his skin would gain wrinkles and how his youthful energy would fade away into the bone deep weariness she observed in the elder humans she noted from a distance. A century was not long, it was hardly the Cybertronian equivalent of a year. Her boy was going to perish before she knew it, and there was not a thing she could do to stop it. Tears were useless, and yet in the quiet of her quarters she wept until she steeled herself. She would give her boy all the affection and care she could over his lifetime, and hopefully in doing so, she could ease the ache of loss that was to come.

Bulkhead was left not as grieved and more saddened above all else. It was easier for him to handle the concept of youthful deaths in organics due to his long service with the wreckers and their allies. He was not upset at Miko dying long before him. No, what saddened him was that she would never have the chance to be a wrecker on a restored Cybertron. By the time their world was restored and things put into motion, he small body would have deteriorated enough to make being a wrecker near impossible for her, at least if she wished to be active. That chance was going to be denied to her because of her fleshy frame, and that above all else had him offering as much opportunity to let her be a wrecker as possible. She would not see the height of Cybertronian military and rescue efforts, but she would have a taste of it, that was his promise.

Bumblebee for his part panicked. He knew organics didn't live long, but he had not expected Rafael's life to come to an end so soon. If Rafael lived according to human standards, he would be dead before Bumblebee's next forging day. He had grown to care deeply for the child, and so while he was no fool and well used to death and the concept of it, his spark still panged with loss. Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself into spending time with Rafael as much as he could outside of patrols and battles. If his friend was going to die so soon, Bumblebee was going to try and be there as a comfort for as long as possible. He tried not to think about the fact that his human companion would perish and silenced any discussion of it when he could. He knew Rafael and every other living being would die eventually, he saw death, he was well acquainted with it, and yet still he was not fond of inviting it by considering it too deeply.

Ratchet was neither particularly shocked or upset, but he was somewhat saddened as he looked over June and the children. He was old, very old. He had been around far longer than even Optimus. Death was not a stranger to him, and he merely found himself nodding along when June spoke the truth. There was nothing to be done and he doubted the children would care for augmentations to extend their lives when all their peers would perish long before they would in that situation. He merely sighed and came to be more gentle with the children. They were incredibly young, even by the standards of their own species. They would not live to see their star go out, and that was likely for the best. To him it was best to let them live a life not burdened by the concept of eternity.

Optimus was quiet after the revelation. He kept to himself for a time, thinking, contemplating, and considering. He knew that his organic charges were not to last, but he had not expected their lives to be so short. His spark cried within him, saddened at what was in his mind, the imminent deaths of several sparklings. He knew of cases where sparklings came from the Well too weak to last. In those situations they were tended to with love and care until at last their small frames failed them and they returned to Primus. It was not the same since the humans would be able to live up to their full potential by their species' standards long before death came for them. But to a Cybertronian? They would not last longer than a Cybertronian year, and that brought him grief. There had been no young for so long, and now those he had come to care for were going to perish so soon? He did not like to consider it and so locked the sorrow away and followed Ratchet's lead, tending to the humans with gentleness and grace.

In response to the team's conflicting emotions, the children found themselves treated with far more kindness than before. Jack was given rights to ride with Arcee far more often and no longer did she try to dismiss him as much. Bulkhead, and later Wheeljack once he understood the situation, took every care to train Miko as a true wrecker, giving her weapons and opportunity she would never have otherwise. Bumblebee went out of his way to speak with Rafael, to tell him stories, and to otherwise speak of all he had seen in order to give his human ward a vision of that which he would never experience due to his short life. Ratchet did not change his behavior much, but he was less hasty in his wrath and spoke to June, more willing to learn human medicine and customs. Optimus fell to offering gifts and wisdom to the humans under his care. He could not be there for them as he would with normal sparklings, but he could show them wonders and offer the wisdom of ages long gone by.

The children found it strange but did not object to the additional attention until it started to grow somewhat suffocating. Only then did they ask why.

Jack: Look, as much as I like being able to go for rides whenever I want, why are you being so nice?

Miko: Yeah, and why are you being so... sad about everything?

Rafael: Is something wrong?

Arcee: Its nothing like that we just-

Ratchet, glaring at the rest of the team: You humans do not live long, at least not compared to us. You lives hardly make up one of our years. They are trying to treat you gently because they are upset about it.

Bulkhead: Well that's a bit of an exaggeration-

Ratchet: No its not.

Jack: Wait, so you mean that since we are going to die eventually, you are being nice to us?

Rafael: We are only teenagers, we aren't going to die anytime soon. There's no need to be sad.

Bumblebee, close to tears: *But there is! You are going to be dead in just over a year for us! And we can't do anything to stop it!*

Miko: Oh, so you are upset because we won't live as long as you.

Optimus: That would be correct... We have not had young of our own since Cybertron fell, and that was many vorns ago. To have you children in our lives has given us hope, and to now know you will not linger with us... we are sorrowful.

Ratchet: Don't stress yourselves over it.

There was little else to say after that revelation, but the children did what they could to comfort their functionally immortal guardians. It wasn't much, but a smile and a thank you every now and then eased the sorrow the team were blanketed in. The humans would die within the blink of an eye for a race from beyond the stars. But that did not stop them from enjoying what time they had.

[medusapelagia]

29 The Escape

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:Future ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: Force into hiding) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: Eddie shaving his head (I know!!!) Words: 1196

“We are leaving. Now.” Steve says, grabbing the duffle bag they always have ready under the bed.

“Who?”

“Suits.”

Fuck. Still better than Demogorgons, but not ideal.

“How many?”

“Eddie, I didn’t stay to introduce myself, ok? I just saw a couple waiting suspiciously outside the diner and I turned back before they saw me.”

“You’re not wanted. You could just go there and tell them I kidnapped you or some shit like that. Everyone will believe you and you will finally be free from hiding.”

“No fucking way. We’re in this together, did you forget it?”

Steve was the only other person at the trailer when Chrissy’s Cunningham body snapped into pieces like nothing. He knew about monsters, and creatures from other dimensions, and now that the big boys have invaded Hawkins, he’s Eddie’s only companion. Steve’s the one who can drive, go grocery shopping, book a stupid motel room, all of this while Eddie hides in the trunk or in the back seat covered by bags and moldy blankets. Because nobody suspects that Steve Harrington, Hawkins's golden boy, is friends with the suspected serial killer Eddie Munson.

Yeah, because after Chrissy other two teenagers died one after the other, Fred and Patrick, and even Max almost didn’t make it. But the danger is still lingering in Hawkins, waiting to find a way to get back to their dimension, and while Eleven, the super girl, and the Party do their best to find a possible solution with the help of Owens’ team, Eddie is still suspect number one so the only thing he can do is hide.

Canada doesn’t sound so bad after all. A little bit cold, maybe, but Steve told him his parents have a house somewhere in Canada and that’s exactly where they are going, traveling by night, driving always within the limits to avoid bad encounters.

Avoiding Hawkins’ checkpoints wasn’t that easy, but luckily the military was still busy coordinating the aid and it wasn’t that hard to pretend that Eddie died in the earthquake, but now that they are finally close it seems that the suit is following them. Maybe they didn’t find a body and so they have sent communication outside Indiana. For the first time ever Eddie saw his face on the television and it wasn’t a nice feeling. But Steve is optimistic, he keeps saying that they are almost there. Just a couple of days more and they’ll pass the border and then things will get better.

“Hey, big boy, need a place to rest?” Eddie asks, seeing Steve’s head fall down abruptly.

“I’m good. We’re almost there.”

“We are not, Steve. We can rest for a moment, you know that right?”

“We can’t keep spending money in motels, we have to save. Canada is expensive.”

“Let’s reach a parking area and rest for a bit, huh? Just half an hour, maybe less.” Eddie proposes, while he knows perfectly well that if Steve agrees he will let him sleep way more than half an hour. The boy has huge dark bags under his eyes, and they haven’t checked his wounds in hours. They surely need to be clean again. And that’s Eddie's second part of the plan. Get clean in a bathroom and maybe do something a little bit drastic but necessary.

“Ok. Just half an hour, ok?”

Eddie winks, fingers crossed behind his back.

Once they find a little rest area he helps Steve in the back of the car, it’s not comfortable enough, Steve is too tall and he’s sleeping all crumpled on the back seat, but it’s still better than sleeping on the driver seat.

Eddie turns on the radio, keeping it softly, listening to the night music. A dejay somewhere is talking to the night people, and Eddie never felt such a deep connection with someone he doesn't even know.

His life, his messy and complicated life, it’s gone. The only person who ever cared about him thinks he’s dead, or a murderer, or both. And he didn’t graduate. Not even on his third try.

The sun is starting to shine when Steve stirs in the back, coursing loudly when he notices how late it is, but Eddie simply shrugs.

“You needed to rest, Steve. We both know it, and a couple of hours will not fuck up our entire plan, ok? Now come on. I need to check your wounds and ask you a favor.

***

The bathroom next to the gas station is filthy, dirty and smelly. The walls that once were white are now yellowish and covered in pornographic graffiti and phone numbers. For a moment Eddie wonders if they should call one of those numbers, just to hear who will answer. Maybe Mary Ann, who seems to be ready to help everyone feel good, is just a nice granny baking cookies in California.

“You ready?” Eddie asks, grabbing the white bag with antiseptic and bandages Steve just bought.

“Be quick, I don’t want to lose more time.”

“Yes, captain,” Eddie chuckles, unwrapping Steve’s bandages while he holds his t-shirt and hisses between his teeth, “This might sting a little. Sorry.”

Steve nods and Eddie cleans the wounds that are still pouring some blood even after days.

“You should have those checked. Like professionally.” Eddie says, trying his best to patch him up.

“Once we’re in Canada I promise I will,” Steve replies, pulling down his t-shirt and covering his hairy chest that was already giving too many ideas to Eddie.

“Now what? You told me you needed a favor.” 

Eddie nods, grabbing his switchblade, “Cut my hair.”

“What?! No!”

“I’m too fucking recognizable, Steve. Cut my fucking hair, then I’ll shave my head.”

“I thought you wanted to shave your face! not your hair! I’m not going to let you.”

“So what? Are you telling me what I can do and what I can’t, Stevie?”

“No… it’s just… it’s your hair.”

“They’ll grow back.” and they will, the only thing Eddie doesn’t know is if they’ll grow back in prison or not.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I hate this!” Steve complains, but grabs the switchblade and starts to cut Eddie’s black curls. 

The more hair falls on the ground the more Eddie remembers that his father used to keep him with a buzzcut and that he hated it, but that’s not the moment to cry on some stupid hair.

“Do you want me… do you want me to shave you?” Steve asks softly.

“Please…” Eddie begs, unable to stare at the mirror.

Steve squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, trying to reassure him, and then he starts to shave his head. Once he’s done Eddie doesn’t seem the same person as he was when they first entered the bathroom. Even he as to stare at the mirror for a long time to realize that’s him. Once he’s finally convinced they leave the bathroom and get back in the car.

This time Eddie is sitting next to Steve, wearing Steve’s clothes and with a shaved head he keeps playing with.

“You ok?”

“Peachy.”

He freezes when they cross the border, but once they are safely in Canada Eddie takes a big breath of relief.

Maybe he’ll have a future after all.

[sanjoongie]

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕩: 𝕋𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤

🥀Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader (f)

🥀Genre: Smut

🥀Rating: 18+, Minors Do not Interact

🥀Au: incubus au, Victorian au, witch au, historical au, demon au, supernatural au

🥀Trope: s2l

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you're a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it's about to turn your day around

🥀Kinks: tentacles, triple penetration, breast and nipple play, fingering (f), anal (f), oral (m), penetrative sex with no barrier, colored cum, erotic electroshock, headspace, squirting

🥀Word Count: 1,715

🥀Betas: n/a

🥀Day Twenty Five: Free use/ Spit Play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty Seven: cuckolding

A crash in your dead husband’s study pulled you from a nap in your boudoir, not bothering with even a robe to cover your white chemise. No one had been in that room for years, and that got your heart pumping in your throat. Was there a burglar? A monster didn’t seem likely in the dead of day. Either way, you scampered in, curling your hands, preparing to weave a spell.

A handsome man, with his boots up, was sitting behind your dead husband’s desk. His arms were crossed behind his head, casual, as if he had every right to be in here. “Now, what do we have here?” He said in a melodic, low voice.

“Shouldn't I be asking you the same thing?!” You demanded. 

“I knew something was drawing me to this house but I wasn’t sure who. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart,” The man proclaimed.

You put both of your hands on your hips. “Listen, there are no magical artifacts in this house. There’s no reason for you to be here. Leave.”

“The name's Yunho,” Yunho introduced himself, ignoring your command. He stood up from the desk and began to walk around. 

“I don’t care who you are or what your name is. You should leave. Now.”

“Now why would I leave when I could provide you with a very important service that I believe you’ve been lacking for quite some time.” Yunho smirked. 

You felt heat move up your face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yunho circled you, like a predator after his prey. His words seemed to wind about you like a spell, curling something inside of your stomach that had lied dormant for many years. “I bet I could have you whimpering for me the minute I bend you over this desk, sweetheart.”

“How do you know?” You demanded.

“Your skin practically screams touch-starved,” Yunho whispered against your skin. 

“I--I haven't been touched since my husband died,” You admitted barely above a whisper. 

Yunho’s hands skimmed your curves over your white nightdress. “That's too bad. Your body is made for a lover.” He squeezed your breasts, your thighs, your ass. Anything he could get his hands on, he appreciated.

You whined in the back of your throat. “I…I can't!”

“What's stopping you, Sweetheart?” Yunho said in a deep voice.

“It's unbecoming of a lady witch,” You replied as Yunho’s hands slowly began to pull up your skirt.

“No one has to know,” Yunho tempted you, tongue hot on your neck, sucking and licking. 

“They'll know!” You lamented. “They'll whisper behind their hands. They'll smell it on me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Yunho chuckled, “the only people that will know that I fucked you good will be me and your pussy.”

“I… I want this so badly,” You whimpered.

“I can give you unlimited pleasure that you’ll never experience with a human. I just need your go ahead, lovely.” Yunho stood in front of you, flowing shirt and tight pants a temptation itself. You were thrown off by the human comment, however.

“What are you?” You demanded.

Yunho’s form wavered for a moment, like his body was emanating enough heat to mimic a heat wave. And then he gained certain features the bespoke of what exactly he was. He had horns that curled around the top of his skull. He had a tail that ended in a spade. His eyes had a ring of yellow around his iris. He screamed ‘incubus’ to you and you shivered. 

“There is more.” Yunho’s eyes tightened in worry. “You can say no but I promise you, they will only give you pleasure.”

“More?” You said in awe that he had more hiding away that could give you pleasure. Your eyes immediately moved down towards his nether region.

Yunho couldn't help but laugh. “No, that one is obvious. Although you’re not exactly cold either.”

“Show me,” You said, some thrill-seeking nerve in you speaking out.

From behind his lower back came two long, black tethers. They moved of their own accord, one on each side of Yunho. “These are my tentacles. Succubus’s chose to receive wings as their extra feature, but us incubus's have these. They secrete their own viscous fluid, so you needn’t worry in that area. They provide me with some pleasure as well. If you must know.” Was Yunho… nervous about revealing his tentacles?

“Will you have me?” Yunho asked again. “Your body is drawing me in. Your magic is flirting with mine. I can’t stay here a moment longer if I can’t have you.”

If the allure of the demon himself hadn't been enough, that sentence sure was. Who could say no to an incubus that proclaimed that he would die without your touch?

“Oh-okay, Yunho. You have my permission. Take me as you will,” You stuttered.

Yunho smiled endearingly at you. “Okay, you asked for it.”

Yunho swiped everything off the desk and made you sit on it. He informed you that all you had to do was tap his arm, once ‘okay and twice ‘stop’. You might have wondered why you needed nonverbal communication until Yunho stuck one of his tentacles into your mouth. He moaned as your tongue naturally curled around it. He shallowly fucked your cheek and cursed. 

“For someone so out of practice…” He gasped. He pulled out his tentacle, and you flicked the straps of your nightgown like you were both of the same mind. His two wet tentacles went straight for your nipples, swirling around the areola until your nipples pebbled, and then they wound around your breasts, squeezing them, the tips of the tentacles casually flicking your nipples.

You smiled wickedly. “How do you think I kept from pushing out brats for the old Warlock I was married to?”

You moaned as Yunho leaned in, cupping your cunt under the skirt of your chemise. “Oh, you’re wet and trembling, lovely.”

“This feels so gloriously good,” You admitted.

Yunho played with you with his fingers while his tentacles continued to play with your breasts. You pouted and panted at being stimulated so much. “I know… I need to… be spoiled… but! Don’t--oh god, right there!” You grabbed Yunho’s wrist and pressed his fingers in you further. “Fuck yes! Don’t forget--hnnnnnn--about yourself!”

Yunho was surprised for a moment before lifting an eyebrow at you. “Did you really enjoy my tentacle in your mouth that much?”

The heavy weight on your tongue had been one of your only pleasures in life. Yes, you did miss it. “Please put your nice tentacle in my mouth, Yunho?”

Yunho released one of your breasts to maneuver his tentacle into your mouth again. He was taken by surprise again when you wrapped both your hands around it and moaned. You added a sharp little zap with your magic and Yunho was the one moaning. 

Your orgasm was approaching but Yunho didn’t want your first one to be with his fingers. He slowed his fingers inside of you and you whined.

“Gonna fuck you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Yunho assured you.

Yunho yanked you by your thighs and brought you flush with the end of the desk. He easily squeezed into your wet cunt and you let out a choked cry. It had been so long, too long. The one tentacle that had been playing with your breast left your boobs slick with the liquid that kept the tentacles wet. It teased your puckered hole and you gasped around Yunho’s tentacle.

Yunho tilted his head cutely. “I told you that I’d give you more pleasure than a human ever could. My tentacles are perfect for your little virgin hole.”

You nodded your head and Yunho moved his tentacle like it was a tongue playing with your hole. He played with the sensitive nerves on the outside first until your muscles untensed. Meanwhile, your mouth and cunt were getting stuffed and you couldn't be happier. However, when Yunho pushed his tentacle in your puckered hole, you were driven to the ultimate pleasure, just like Yunho promised.

You squealed as you were fucked so throughly. Yunho looked wicked above you, his horns curving around his head and his tail curled around one of your ankles. His hands replaced the tentacles around your breasts. His nimble fingers played with your nipples, still slick with the tentacle's wetness. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You slipped into a place where only pleasure existed.

Yunho moved his mouth close to your ear to whisper, “When you come, it will be the most delicious feeding I’ll have ever had. Will you do that for me? Will you come hard for me? Let me feel pleasure in all of your holes with all my appendages?”

You weren’t sure if it was the fucking in your ass that you had never experienced but was nontheless a pleasurable expereince, or the way that Yunho’s curved dick stroked a place inside of you that you never even knew could be reached, but either way your climax was hard, just like Yunho wanted. You screamed around his tentacle and blacked out for a few minutes. Yunho squirted inside all of your holes, excreting a black, viscous liquid down your throat and in both of your lower holes. He came with a long, drawn-out moan, that honestly, if you had been able to focus on, just might have made you come a second time with how lovely it sounded.

Yunho removed all of his appendages from you quietly while you slowly but surely came back to earth. “Yu-yunho,” You gasped.

Yunho smiled brightly. “Good, right?”

You frowned when you saw a clear fluid on your thighs. “Did I?”

“You gave me the greatest honor. I made you squirt. It was glorious,” Yunho said with a boyish grin.

You pulled your straps up over your shoulders and summoned your robe with a flick of your wrist. It made it as far as the door before collapsing. Had Yunho fed from you so deeply that he had drained your magic reservoirs as well?

“You’re my new favorite snack, sweetheart, that’s for sure,” Yunho winked at you. And with a poof of sparkly smoke, he was gone. Well, he knew where you lived. You were sure he’d be back for more.

🥀Day Twenty Five: Free use/ Spit Play 🥀Mini Masterlist 🥀Day Twenty Seven: cuckolding

[coloursflyaway]

fic prompt if youre interested: charles is hanging out by himself and accidentally meets 2 other ghosts and finds out they got married in the afterlife and absolutely goes crazy over it bc hes like you can get married in the afterlife?? ghost weddings exist??? should *i* propose to edwin???? and he cannot stop thinking about it and one day he's just like "edwin, do you think we should get married?" and edwin is like charles wtf?

Hi! It took some time, but here's the fic ♥

Because My Heart And His Are The Same

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.000

Read on AO3

“Let's get married”, he tells Edwin, quickly crossing the distance between the mirror and the desk, and this gets a reaction at last, Edwin’s head whipping up to stare at him. “That’s what we have to do. I talked to the witness and her husband, and I’ll tell you about the case later, but they got married when they were dead, because the whole Til Death Do Us Part thing, that should work the other way around too, right? Like, if we are already dead and we get married, then there is nothing left to part us. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Charles and Edwin get married before they even know they are in love. (They find out twenty years later.)

“...and once we had met, it was almost like destiny. It took maybe a few weeks, but after that, we both knew that we were it for each other. Soulmates, I guess you could call it. Sometimes, I wonder if being dead just makes it easier to decide these things, like life falling away allows you to focus on the important things.”

Marian, the witness Charles set out to interview and got completely sidetracked by, looks over to the man next to her, and her eyes are so warm and so soft and so grateful that it does something to Charles’ head and chest that he isn’t sure he likes. Something is growing there, caught between happiness and jealousy and, mixed in between, the feeling he occasionally gets when he looks at Edwin.

For a fleeting, almost unnoticeable moment, he wishes Edwin was here, without knowing why. Apart from the fact, of course, that he usually wants Edwin there with him.

“And we ended up thinking how to go on from that, because I would like to move on at some point in the future, but I would never be able to leave Sebastian. It wouldn’t be Heaven without him there, if that is where I will be going, and it would be Hell for him. Seb’s always been a romantic, or so he tells me, and he came up with an idea that was so strange that we figured it might work.”

Another smile, another look, a nod from Sebastian, and the feeling in Charles’ chest pulses, presses against his ribs like it is trying to break free.

“You see”, Marian continues, “Til Death Do Us Part, when you promise that alive, that means you will be parted once you’ve died. So, Seb figured, if that is true, then Death might not be able to part us if we get married when we’re already dead. Of course, here’s no guarantee that it’ll work, but then again, it can’t hurt to try either. So, eight weeks after we met, we went to find a priest that could see ghosts and we got married.”

She reaches out to take her husband’s hand, but by now, Charles’ mind is reeling to the point where he barely notices it, where the smitten expression on her face can’t fan the emotions blooming in his chest any more. They’re still there, and might stay for a long time, but at the moment, they just don’t matter.

“And that’s the story how I ended up with such an overly-long, hyphenated name. I don’t mind it, though, I wear it with pride, since it’s ours, and-”

Marian is about to launch into another bit of their story, and usually, Charles would be glad to listen – he, just like Sebastian, is a romantic at heart, always has been – but he can’t, not now. Not when he might just have received the most important bit of information since he first listened to The Special’s self-titled album in 1987. A proper revelation, this might be.

Because it makes sense. If marriage is something that can only be broken by death, then getting married after you have died should make it unbreakable. Right?

“I have to go”, he blurts out, then adds, both to be polite and because he really, truly means it, “but thank you. Like, seriously. Thank you so much.”

“Edwin! Edwin, come here!”, Charles yells out even before he has fully come through the mirror, too excited to hold onto the words for a second longer, “We have to do something!”

There’s a moment of silence, which means that Edwin is absolutely not moving, like he should be, then, “Do what, Charles? You seem quite flustered. Did something happen with the witness?”

Edwin isn’t even looking up from where he is bent over the desk, studying an artefact or reading a book, obviously not understanding the seriousness of the situation at all. It should be exasperating, but Charles only feels fond, the affection blossoming in his chest enough to cut through the excitement.

“Get married”, he tells Edwin, quickly crossing the distance between the mirror and the desk, and this gets a reaction at last, Edwin’s head whipping up to stare at him. “That’s what we have to do. I talked to the witness and her husband, and I’ll tell you about the case later, but they got married when they were dead, because the whole Til Death Do Us Part thing, that should work the other way around too, right? Like, if we are already dead and we get married, then there is nothing left to part us. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Charles feels the idea buzzing through his body like he remembers caffeine doing when he was still alive, making him rock on his heels, fingers tangling and untangling, even if Edwin is still only staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open.

“...we can’t get married”, Edwin finally answers, slow and soft, like he is still piecing the words together, like he is still navigating his thoughts even as he is speaking them. “We are… both boys.”

Sometimes, he forgets how different Edwin’s time was; sometimes, he forgets that even as they have become part of a new era, one in which neither of them has ever lived, it usually takes Edwin longer to catch up with how things have changed.

“Get with the times, Edwin!”, Charles tells him, grinning, because for once, he is the brains, and he is the one who has done his research before coming here. “It’s 2006! We can go to the Netherlands, Belgium, Canada, Spain or South Africa. I’ll even let you choose. We could do a little honeymoon-like vacation after that, too! The only thing we have to do is find some kind of official there who can see ghosts, and voila! Married.”

It’s so easy, it’s such a great idea, Edwin just has to realise it. And he will, Charles is certain of it. After all, Edwin is brilliant.

“But-”, Edwin breathes out, and there is another moment of silence, one that somehow feels breathless, feels heavy with emotion that Charles cannot place; something momentous, terrifying, life-changing. “….you would want to marry me?”

“Of course.” It’s the easiest question in the world to answer, even if Edwin asks it like it should be impossible to do so; it’s Edwin, it’s an extra bit of hope for them to stay together, like they should, have to, will. “You’re my best mate. I don’t wanna leave you ever, so it makes sense, doesn’t it? Doesn’t have to be romantic, not to us. But if Death ever does catch us, we’ll be able to go, absolutely not, death can’t part us, it’s the thing that brought us together. Brills, right?”

And there is another pause, just as breathless, just as life-changing; Edwin drops his gaze, and when he answers, his voice is soft in a different, a hopeful way.

“Yes. You’re right. That would be brills, indeed.”

They’re on the rooftop, watching the sun rise, because the agency feels crowded with Niko and Crystal sleeping on the couch, and Edwin’s hand is in his, just where it belongs.

They haven’t had much time to themselves lately, so this feels like a treat, a few peaceful hours they have carved out to just be with each other, enjoy these strange, beautifully changed circumstances of their relationship. Because they are beautiful, Charles thinks as he strokes his thumb across Edwin’s knuckles; they are beautiful because being with Edwin always is, always has been, because they were meant to be friends for three decades and they are meant to be much more for the rest of their existence, because he loves Edwin the most of all, and always will.

“We should do this more often, coming up here”, Edwin says softly into the light of the morning sun, and his voice feels like a balm on every scratch on Charles’ soul. “It really is quite pretty. And I have always loved the sunrise.”

And I have always loved you, Charles wants to say, but doesn’t; he doesn’t have to, Edwin knows.

He’s right, too: the city is just waking up underneath them, dawn is painting the sky pink and peach, the clouds scattered across it like sea foam. It reminds Charles of South Africa, of watching the sunrise on the beach there, and…

“Oh, God”, Charles blurts out before he has had a second to think, half-laughing, and knows Edwin is looking at him with one perfect eyebrow raised without turning his head. “Oh God, I just realised something. Edwin. I kind of figured you were my boyfriend now, or something, but you’re not. I can’t believe I forgot about that. You’re my husband.”

And he’s laughing, because how do you forget about being married to the love of your afterlife? And yet, how do you not, when you’ve only fallen in love with him two decades after marrying him?

It takes Edwin a second, but then he joins Charles, hand tightening around his fingers, and there is something so precious about Edwin’s laughter, especially when it sounds like this, carefree and incredulous and happy, that Charles thinks he might be falling in love with him all over again.

“If it’s any consolation, Charles, I had forgotten about it, too”, Edwin tells him once their laughter has died down, a smile still on his plush lips; Charles almost kisses it off them. “Even if it was quite a beautiful wedding.”

“It was.” It had been warm and sunny and quick, just them and a lovely older woman, a kiss to Edwin’s cheek and a lie about being too timid for public affection, a long walk on the beach afterwards and the elation of a little bit more hope that they would never have to part. “We should do it again.”

“What?”

“Get married.” He’s only had the thought for a split second, and yet Charles can almost see it in his mind: a proper ceremony this time, with Crystal and Niko there, writing vows and kissing Edwin senseless after he says I do, and meaning it differently this time, still meaning it the same way as the first time, too. “We should get married again. Marry me again?”

The question startles a surprised sound from Edwin, something in between a laugh and a gasp, and his eyes are as wide as they were the first time Charles proposed it. Proposed to him.

“But we have permission to stay here now”, Edwin counters, soft and warm and intrigued; his fingers tighten around Charles’ and Charles wants to slide a ring on one of them and never see Edwin without it again.

“I know. Doesn’t make me want to marry you any less”, he tells Edwin and can’t help but smile, can’t help but let the excitement, the love colour every word of it. “There’s so many more countries we could go to now, and there are no records of it anywhere, so we could get married in each one of them. I want to marry you on a beach and in a church and on top of the highest building we can find. And if that stupid department ever changes its mind, and Death finds us, we can tell her, she can’t split us apart, because-”

“-because death is the thing that brought us together.”

“Exactly.” Charles smiles, touched that Edwin remembered his words from back then, and is fairly certain that, if Edwin still had blood flowing through his body, he would be blushing. “A dozen times, at least.”

It takes a moment, but it is one Charles doesn’t mind waiting for, because then Edwin says, “Alright. I’ll marry you. Again.”

“And again?”

“And again”, Edwin replies, soft and sweet, and Charles loves him, then adds, “And then again, if you want to. Husband.”

And this time, Charles gives in, wouldn’t know how to stop himself, and kisses the love and the surprise and the happiness right off Edwin’s lips, and thinks about how they’ll taste after having said their vows the next time, and the one after that, and the one after that, too.

And clutches Edwin closer, and thinks, and the one after that, as well.

And kisses that thought onto Edwin’s lips, too.

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Dark Side of the Moon-

Ambushed by angry hunters, Sam and Dean are killed leaving their little sister to pick up the pieces.

Warning- Death, Murder

A/N- Let me know if you liked this imagine! Please feel free to request absolutely anything!!

Today was going to be a good day, you thought, smiling to yourself. You were full of life and cheerful. It felt good. You felt good! You woke up super early just excited to be alive so you decided to walk to the cafe down the street to surprise your brothers with breakfast.

You smiled at the lady who handed you your coffee, pastries and bagels. “Thank you! Have a greaatttt day!” You said, practically skipping out of the cafe. You stepped outside, taking a deep breath of the fresh air and continued your walk back to the motel.

You got up to the room and excitedly pushed the door open. “Gooooood morn,” your smile fell from your face and everything dropped out of your hands as you took in the scene in front of you. Two men had shotguns pointed in both of your brothers faces. “Wha- what’s happening,” you stuttered. Your heart was pounding and they kept their guns on your brothers.

Dean spoke, “Hey kid,” he looked over at you. “It’s alright okay? I need you to leave though.” Sending you a nod with his soft eyes. Your heart sunk. They were going to kill your brothers and Dean knew it. There was no way you were leaving them. You turned towards the two men, “No, Please!” You cried.

Their attention turned to Sam, “you think you can flip the switch on the apocalypse and just walk away, Sam?” The one man said cocking his gun. “Who told you that?” Sam asked. “We ain’t the only hunters after you.” He said eerily. He cocked the gun causing Sam to flinch while you shrieked in fear. “See you in the next life.” He said coldly. “Here me out, I can explain!” Sam bargained with the man, staring directly into his shot gun. “Please.” He pleaded.

You were thinking of something to do to get yourselves out of this. Dean was shooting you a look pleading with his eyes to stay out of it. His clenched his jaw when you went running at one of them. They were both grown men obviously running on very high adrenaline so as soon as you were about to make contact with the one, the other strongly whipped you across the face with his gun. You cried out, falling to the floor and grabbing your face that was now bleeding and throbbing.

Their attention turned back to your brothers who both looked extremely pissed. It all happened so fast. Dean growled ready to kill someone and as Sam was about to open his mouth to say something, two shots rang out. Both of them hitting Sam in the stomach. His blood splattered everywhere as he grunted.

You screamed bloody murder. “Sammy!” You cried, starting to get up. “Stay the hell down,” the man who shot Sam said as he was now pointing the gun at you. Dean was breathing heavy with disbelief, ready to kill them next. The man who had his gun on Dean threatened him, “If you move, she’s dies.” The one pointing their gun at you nodded and jabbed you in the chest with it like you were an animal.

He then took his gun off of you and turned it onto Dean so he had two guns pointed at him. They knew you were helpless and couldn’t harm them so they didn’t care about you.

You were sobbing on the floor, staring at your dead brother painted in blood. “De, he’s dead!” You cried. He looked over at you seeing you in absolute panic. He pinched the bridge of his nose, distraught that you had to see the scene in front of you. “Hey kid it’s going to be alright, but I need you to get out of here.” He said softly. You shook your head, unable to move your body and not wanting to leave either of your brothers. “Shoot him,” the one man said to the one who killed Sam. “Nooooo!” You screamed at them. “Killing Sam was right, but Dean,” he trailed off looking at his partner.

You heard Dean yell out to you, “Y/N/N! Get up and run! Don’t look back, Go!” He pleaded with you just hoping you’d be somewhere safe if they ended up shooting him too. You shook your head no, sobbing.

The other guy continued, “he made us and we just snuffed his brother, you idiot. You want to spend the rest of your life knowing Dean Winchester’s on your ass? Cause I don’t. Shoot him.” He demanded coldly.

“Go ahead Roy,” Dean said. Wait. Roy and Walt? You’ve heard of them both. You glanced at them in disbelief. “Do it,” Dean demanded, interrupting your thoughts. “But I’m gonna warn you when I come back and I will come back. I’m gonna be pissed and if I find out you killed or hurt my sister after I’m gone, I’ll find you and I’ll rip you to friggin shreds!”

Both of the men looked at each other as Dean glanced your way. Knowing you weren’t going to leave him, he tried to reason with you. “Close your eyes then kid, please don’t watch.” He pleaded, but you never broke eye contact with him even as another shot rang out. Dean fell back into his bed, bloody.

You screamed and they turned their attention to you. “What should we do with her?” Walt said. You didn’t care if they killed you too. You couldn’t live without Sam and Dean. “Look at her, she’s weak. She’s not going to do anything to us, I say we just let her live.” Roy said. You shot them both a glare, “I’m going to fucking kill the both of you.” You stood up and Walt came up to you. You didn’t back down staring him into his eyes fuming. He punched you in the face, knocking you back down. You clutched your eye and whimpered. They scoffed at you and ran out leaving you alone with your brothers bodies.

You scrambled to your brothers side, Sam first since he was the first to go. You pulled yourself onto his bed and took his body into yours, bawling. “I’m so sorry Sammy, it wasn’t your fault. I love you.” You cried, “I love you so much.” Your tears blurred your vision as you looked over at Dean. You choked back a sob, “De?” You whimpered, hoping that by some miracle you’d get a response or both of your brothers would jump up gasping for breaths, alive.

You walked over to him and held your shaky breath so you could hear if he was breathing. With no luck, you wiped your eyes and glanced to his chest. Seeing absolutely no rise and fall, you collapsed on him. Your cries tore through your chest and you felt your throat burn.

You looked towards the spilt coffee, bagels and pastries you got for breakfast to surprise your now dead brothers with and you felt anger overtake you. With wild hair and a tear stricken face, you marched over to it. You stomped on the plastic coffee cups over and over again, hearing them crunch underneath you. Then you picked up the bag of bagels and chucked them at the wall. You looked towards the bag of pastries and saw the chocolate chip muffin poking out. You stopped for a second glancing over at Dean, that was supposed to be his muffin, you cried. You opened up the bag, pulling the muffin out. You grabbed a napkin and walked over to Dean. You set the napkin down on the motel nightstand next to Dean’s bed and placed the muffin on top.

You looked at Dean then looked at Sam and then back at Dean. You stared blankly at them and walked backwards. You kept walking backwards until you felt the wall stop you and you slid down it. You pulled your knees up to your chest and hugged yourself, staring at your brothers for what felt like eternity.

Eventually something snapped you out of your trance and you looked down at yourself, you were soaked in your brothers blood. You gasped surprised and looked at your brothers. They were still bloody and dead. Your breathing picked up and became erratic. It was starting to get dark out and you had no clue what to do. You were officially alone. You squeezed your eyes shut and tucked your head between your legs. You rocked yourself back and forth while you sobbed. Yours sobs were rough and hoarse as you were losing your voice due to all of the traumatic events you’ve witnessed in just one day. Your thoughts were interrupted by feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You jerked away shrieking, thinking you were in danger. They held you still, “hey, hey, hey, hey it’s Dean sweetheart, it’s Dean.” He spoke softly. Your eyes shot up and met his green orbs. You cried, standing up. He followed and stood up after you. You looked at both of the beds that were once preoccupied and saw they were empty. You scanned the room for Sam when you felt a hand in your back. You turned around and saw Sam, alive. Both of your brothers were alive? You reached out to Sam, feeling around his stomach and chest for two bullet hole wounds. Unsatisfied, you lifted up his shirt and saw a ton of blood but no entry wounds. You couldn’t believe it you were searching all over when he gripped your hands tight. “Hey sweetheart, I need you to look at me. Can you do that? I need you to look me in the eyes.” You nodded, calming down. “It’s me, it’s Sam. I’m alright, it’s okay, I’m here. We’re both alive.” Motioning to Dean. His soft eyes broke yours and you became a blubbering mess. You fell into him, weak from exhaustion both mentally and physically. “I- I- I was so scared!” He wrapped his large arms around your tiny frame, holding you up. “I know bug, I know.” He whispered.

You gently pushed away from him, turning to Dean. His arms were out for you and you clung to him. You gripped his shirt in your hands, afraid at any moment he might disappear. “You were dead, I watched you die.” You screamed into his chest, still hysterical. “And I’m so sorry you did, I’m so sorry you did.” He said as he held you close as you trembled.

Both of your brothers were heavily concerned that you watched them die. They knew that it was absolute our traumatic for you and you were also still a kid.

You stood with Dean as he swayed back and forth trying to get your cries to die down. “Shhhhh, shhh, it’s alright Y/N/N.” Your breathing slowed down and you felt yourself relaxing. You heard Dean’s stomach growl. “Are you hungry?” You croaked. You felt Dean’s chest rumble as he chuckled. “Actually, when are you not,” you answered your own question and grinned.

You pulled away from him and walked over to the nightstand where the muffin sat. You picked it up and walked back over to him. “Here you go! I got you this this morning to surprise you with.” You cheered. Dean smiled at his sister, “I love you kid, thank you.” You sent him a smile back, “I gave it to dead you, but now alive you can have it!” You said. Both of your brothers grimaced knowing you were really going through it, but you paid no attention to them. You were too focused on realizing that Sam had nothing to eat. “Sammy uhhhh,” you trailed off, glancing at the stomped on coffees and bagel bag that was thrown across the room. Both of your brothers followed your gaze. “Hey, it’s alright big.” He smiled softly reassuring you. “Maybe you can share with Dean?” You said, hoping that would be good enough for him. “Yeah, yeah I’ll share with Dean.” He said, knowing he wouldn’t eat a chocolate chip muffin but didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Sam looked over at Dean. Dean pointed to the muffin and mouthed, “my muffin!”

You yawned, now realizing how tired you really were. “How about you get in the shower and get cleaned off alright?” Sam said. You shook your head, “no, no, no, no, no,” gasping. Dean immediately knew what it was about. “Hey kiddo, it’s alright. Okay? It’s alright, we’ll be right here when you come out.” Dean reassured you. He then looked around the room to the bloody beds. He continued, “and then we’re going to hit the road. All together. Okay?” You nodded, happy to be leaving this nightmare of a room.

You got in the shower, watching as the blood washed off of you and went down the drain. You cleaned yourself up and turned the shower off. You went to the mirror and squeakily cleaned a section off so you could see yourself without all of the blood. You had a gash below your eye and a red bruise that was no doubt going to turn black in the next few days. Now that you were calmed down, you could feel all the pain you were in mentally. You felt your face throbbing and it hurt with every facial movement. You quickly dried off and got changed, wanting to feel comfortable.

You stepped out of the bathroom and Dean looked up at you. He silently cursed and made his way over to you. He gently grabbed your face and you whimpered. “Shhh I know kid, I’m sorry.” He said turning towards Sam. “Sam go get some ice.” He requested. Sam shot you a small smile and nodded at Dean. He left the room and Dean looked at you. “I’m so sorry we let this happen to you.” You looked at him confused. “You didn’t let anything happen to me, Dean. You and Sam have protected me in every way possible and I owe you my life for that.” You stated sure of yourself. “Well, Walt and Roy are dead. That’s for sure.” He stated. You looked down after hearing their voices. Dean put his finger under your chin and tilted your face up, “hey, but for now I’ve gotta fix you up.” He started cleaning your face up. Once he was finished, Sam came in with the ice. He wrapped it up just like you liked it. With two paper towels because napkins were too thin and towels were too thick. He handed it to you and you thanked him, putting it up to your face. He kissed the side of your head, “love you bug.” You smiled at him, “love you.” You turned to Dean, “love you too.” He smiled, “love you too kiddo.”

[strangersteddierthings]

No Regrets - Part Three

This one got longer than I expected, so it's only about Spring Break. We return to the apocalypse next part.

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

"-eve?"

Waking up again is disorienting. His head aches like the beginning of a migraine. There was something he was thinking about but it's fading quickly. A conversation in a boathouse...? That's not right. The boathouse was empty. The police had beat them there.

"Steve?"

No. No conversation in a boathouse. But there was a phone call. He knows he remembers that. Joyce had called last night. Her and Murray sharing a phone between them as Steve- Oh! Right. Steve told them he knew about Hopper in Russia.

"You have to go, though. Hopper is alive and waiting. And there's a demogorgon. Demodogs, too. You have to kill them all. Any connection to the Upside Down left alive helps Vecna. It's like having a tether to here makes him stronger."

"I can't just abandon El," Joyce sounds conflicted, and Steve gets it. He does.

"You aren't. You're going to be giving her back her dad. She's got Jonathan and Will and Mike. Argyle, too, if he wants to be there. Just. Just get them on the road and back here as soon as you can. If they don't leave soon than Brenner will-"

"Brenner? What do you mean Brenner? He's dead. Right? He's supposed to be dead."

"Yeah, well, he's not. He- I don't know the full details, just. I was just given an overview because, y'know, other shit was going down. But he makes El relive a lot of traumatic shit from her past and yeah, it gets her back her powers, but she's just a kid. She's just a kid."

"Her abilities, they aren't gone?" It's Murray who asks.

"No. She's just traumatized, in a different way. It was... it was Jonathan who said this, actually, to me. I mean, he hasn't said it yet, and if everything goes the way I want, he won't need to say it ever, but that's- sorry, that's not important. He said he thinks El blocked her abilities because she lost Hopper. An internal block, you know? 'Cause she couldn't save him with them, so what was the point of having them?"

"And you think bringing Hopper back will free her of that block?" Murray asks.

Steve can't help it. He laughs. "Hell no. I think years of therapy might, but having her dad will help. There's no way it hurts, right? Also, uh, you're the parent here, Joyce, so I'll let you decide what to tell her, but the big, awful thing that Brenner made her relive? It was a massacre. At the lab, when she was there. Another guy, another number, killed a bunch of the people there. It was El who saved the remainder. She stopped him from killing anyone else by opening the first gate to the Upside Down. She tossed him in and closed it. She's not a monster. Oh, that part you have to tell her. She's not a monster."

"Steve!"

There's more to the phone call, Steve knows he knows that but there's yelling and it's distracting.

"Steve!!"

"What?" Steve snaps, both with his shout and back into himself. He's sitting at the picnic in Forest Hills. Everyone is looking at him with varying degrees of concern.

"You okay?" Robin asks, "we've been trying to get your attention for a while now."

"What? Yeah, sorry," Steve says, distracted, standing up and looking around. Eddie's trailer is right there, and Wayne's truck is parked in front. He knows Wayne. Knew Wayne? He's in charge of the gardens at home base. A real green thumb, not that you can tell by looking at the trailer now. "You think that with Fred's death, they'll stop suspecting Eddie?"

"What? We don't know that they suspect Eddie," Dustin is quick to say, "I know he didn't do it, and so do you so-"

"Yeah, I know! I do know that, but Chrissy died in his home and then he ran. Of course, he's a suspect. But he was in jail last night. So. They can't suspect him still, right?"

Nancy purses her lips, giving Steve a look he knows isn't good. "Well, it will depend on when they apprehended Eddie, which we don't even know they did. How do you know he was in jail last night?"

"Good point. I don't, not for sure. But Wayne might," Steve says as he starts walking away. He can hear everyone at the picnic table shouting for him and scrambling to follow. Steve picks up speed, dashing up the steps and pounding on the door before anyone catches up.

"Steve, what are you doing," Max hisses, because she's the fastest and therefore the closest.

"I just gotta-"

"Can I help you?" Wayne Munson greets, voice even. Steve watches as his eyes sweep the group, pausing on Nancy before coming back to Steve.

"Hopefully. Uh, I'm a friend of- well, no that's a lie. I don't want to lie to you. I'm not Eddie's friend, but I want to be, and Dustin here is, so we just wanted to know if you could tell us if Eddie's okay?" Steve says. "You already talked to Nancy yesterday, but she didn't know that we, like, knew him. Have you heard from Eddie?"

Wayne eyes him with suspicion, which is fair, "I ain't heard from him."

"Please," Steve says, because he's got to try one more time. Either Wayne doesn't know for real, or he's lying because he doesn't trust Steve. He's not sure he'll be able to tell which is which, but he has to ask again, "I swear that we just want to help Eddie. Whatever happened to Chrissy wasn't his fault, I know that. I just need. I need to know he's not- not out there, alone and scared. Please."

Wayne stares him down and Steve refuses to look away. Wayne's eyes flick away from him to the single police cruiser still stationed nearby, then back. "Get in here."

He doesn't need told twice. Wayne retreats into the trailer and Steve follows. Immediately his eyes jump to where the gate will form. Currently it just looks like water damage on the ceiling, but Steve knows. No gate yet, but it'll be there tomorrow. Probably fully formed by the time Vecna tries to take Max.

Robin, the last one in, shuts the door behind her gently.

"I told her yesterday that Eddie didn't do this," Wayne nods his head towards Nancy but he never takes his eyes off Steve. "Didn't stop them from arresting him."

"Thank God," Steve breaths out, which is the wrong thing to say, given how quickly Wayne's face morphs to anger, so he quickly adds, "shit, I mean, that means, he was in police custody when they found another victim last night, right? That'll prove he's innocent."

Wayne doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes his time looking at each and every one of them, lingering on Nancy before settling on Max. "You live 'cross the way, don't ya?"

Max looks surprised to be recognized. "Yeah."

"Did you see anything?"

"I saw..." she trails off, brows furrowing as she thinks. She looks from Wayne to Steve. He doesn't know what she sees on his face, but he watches as she steels herself, a decidion made, before looking back to Wayne and saying, "What I saw is whatever I'll need to have seen to help Eddie."

"You'd lie to the police for Eddie?"

Max and Wayne have a silent conversation following the question, judging by their stare down and raising and following brow lines. When Max does speak, she says, "I've lied to police for worse people."

"Huh," is all Wayne says as he settles back against the counter behind him.

"Thank you," Steve says, even as his mind starts to calculate. They'll probably keep him the full 48 hours, since there isn't evidence enough to charge him. Right? There isn't really any evidence. Except, perhaps, what Eddie might have told them. Shit. Would Eddie say anything? "Can you let me know when they release him? Whatever happened, whatever he saw, probably freaked him out. I don't want him to feel alone. I mean, we don't."

Dustin is looking at him now like he's grown a second head but Wayne. Wayne is looking at him like he's made a realization. Drawn some unknown conclusion that he must approve of because he nods. "Sure, son."

"You got pen and paper? I'll write down my number."

The silence from his friends is deafening and does not bode well for Steve. He just knows they're going to bombard him as soon as they leave the trailer.

Which is exactly what happens. They wait until they're back by their cars before starting in, though.

"Steve, what the fuck was that?" Dustin says.

"How did you know he got arrested?" Max demands.

"Steve, you are acting so strange right now," Robin says, worry painted across her face.

"Explain," is all Nancy says, crossing her arms.

Should he? Does he even know what's happening? No. Not really. He's got memories of a future that's bleak and dark and terrible and he doesn't want it to come true. Are they even memories? Did those events even happen? He doesn't know for sure. All he does know if he wants to do everything in his power to prevent it from happening though. He doesn't want to have regrets about.... about something.

"We don't win," he says. "We don't win this one. Or, we didn't? We might now. Things are different this time."

"What?" Robin asks.

Steve ignores the question, giving instead more of the information he knows, "Hopper's alive. Joyce and Murray are on their way to Russia to save him."

"WHAT?" he's not sure who asked. Maybe all of them.

"And El is- I don't know. On her way, I hope. But she won't have her powers when she gets here. Or maybe she will? If she believes she's not a monster and really is the hero."

"Steve, you are not making any sense!"

"I know!" Steve shouts and drops into a squat. "I know! I'm not the- the figure it out guy, or the plans guy, or whatever. I'm just the guy who knows things he shouldn't, and I can't tell if it's because I actually lived it, or if I was just given knowledge about it somehow. I know the Upside Down has a red storm that never ends, more democreatures that just gorgons or dogs, and that Vecna slash Henry slash One is a goddamn monster who opens a giant hell gate and causes the apocalypse."

"Whoa, whoa," Dustin sooths, and when Steve looks up, Dustin's got both hands up and approaching like Steve's a wild animal. He kind of feels like one right now. "Slow down and explain."

There's a lot Steve could say. Should say. Steve is kind and soft, even in the face of the end of the world, but he's also learning that he's a little ruthless. Not heartless, but enough that he can see where they are, where they need to be, and how to get there in the easiest way possible. His eyes flick to Max. "Chrissy and Fred. They were both seeing the guidance counselor. You've seen them both there, right Max?"

"I- yeah. Yeah, I have."

"And Nancy, you've got a hunch, right? You need to go to the library to check it out?"

She narrows her eyes at him but nods.

"Okay. So, uh, let's use that as proof. You and Robin go check out your hunch, and I'll stick with Dustin and Max. Take Max to see Ms. Kelley and see if she'll tell Max anything that connects them?"

"You already know what we'll find, don't you?" Nancy asks, and Steve shrugs. "You're right. I won't believe you. Not without this proof. So, we'll go, Robin and me. And when we meet up, I expect you to tell me what we learned."

Max is completely silent the entire drive, an exact opposite of Dustin who shoots off so many questions in a row that Steve can barely remember the first by the time he's onto the next. Not that it would matter, because Dustin doesn't pause between any of his questions or comments to let Steve answer anyway.

Max launches herself from car almost as soon as Steve pulls up to the curb with a loudly groaned, "finally" before she slams the door and bounds across the street.

"Steve! Are you even listening to me!?" Dustin has finally lost steam or ran out of breath or something.

"Are you done yelling at me?" Steve retorts.

Dustin lets out a really big sigh then says, "For now. I just- Let's start with this. How do you know that Hopper's alive?"

"Joyce and Murray confirmed it when I talked to them on the phone. They're supposed to be getting El and crew heading back this way while they go to rescue him, but I don't really know how that's going."

Dustin squints at him. "I thought you could see the future now."

"No. I saw the future, so like, lived it or something. And it's like... You watch Back to the Future yet?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so like, the part where his family starts to vanish from the picture? Because he made his mom want to bang him-?"

"That is a disgusting oversimplification of the plotline, Steve."

"-it's like that. Except I want to change the events because we definitely end up in the bad timeline."

"Okay. Say I believe you. You said we don't win this time. Explain that."

Steve sighs. "Can that wait for like, everyone? Explain it all at once?"

"What made it so bad you have to alter the course of all of human existence?" Dustin demands.

"The Upside Down breaks through, man," Steve says, "Like, toxic air and no more sunlight or blue skies kinda bad. Full on, end of the world apocalypse type shit."

"Shit. We, like, lose lose," Dustin says in a small voice Steve doesn't think he's ever heard Dustin use before he huffs and falls out of view with a click and the sound of squeaking leather. Steve watches as Dustin reclines his seat back so he can stare up at the ceiling of the BMW.

"Yeah," Steve says before they fall into silence until Max sprints back, screaming for him to drive before she's even got the door closed behind her and certainly isn't wearing her seatbelt yet.

They all converge at the school, and Steve tells them what Nancy and Robin learned at the library, then Max puts together the thread that connected Chrissy and Fred, and he has to watch, again, as she accepts she's going to die. She even looks to him, as if he'll confirm that with a shake of his head or a nod.

He just blinks back at her until she looks away.

They want answers he isn't ready to give. Not until tomorrow, after Vecna tries to take Max. Given how today has gone, tomorrow shouldn't be much of a change. Nancy and Robin will still go the Pennhurst, and Steve will take Max everywhere she wants to go, but this time he'll be ready. It's not too late, so the little music store down from Melvald's will still be open. Hopefully they have Kate Bush handy. He'll make sure Lucas has a backup cassette player and-

"Wait. Lucas should be told. He should be here. Why isn't he..." Steve trails off, trying to remember why Lucas would be here. He went to party with the basketball team and- and what? There's something he's missing. Something changed. His head hurts and the white noise is back, and it hits him so suddenly he sways and stumbles backwards until he hits a wall.

"Steve!" Robin gasps his name and rushes to hold him up. Dustin is at his other side just as quick.

"I'm ok," Steve says with eyes closed. He can't explain it, but he's changed something. He knows he has. Lucas is with them tomorrow, he remembers that, and there's this feeling that he should be here now. That he should have shown up at the school, but the reason eludes him. Slips from his grasp like he's trying to hold water. "It's- there was something that was supposed to happen. Something that made Lucas find us here at the school. I remember that. I- I almost hit him with a lamp. But he's not here. He didn't- something's changed. Whatever happened before didn't happen again."

"What, like, you changed the past?" Dustin asks.

The laugh Steve lets out is manic, even to his own ears. "I don't know! I can't remember! It's there, the why, but I can't reach it. It's faded, man, like the picture. It's faded."

"Okay, I think it's time we get some rest," Nancy says. "Dustin, you'll radio Lucas tonight and fill him in. Tell him Steve or I will pick him up tomorrow morning to join us. Let's go everyone, before someone does show up."

Nancy takes Dustin and Max, and Robin sticks with Steve. She doesn't even question his detour to the music store, just helps him find the Kate Bush tape. Doesn't even raise an eyebrow when he buys two cassette players, five blank tapes, and a tape recorder.

"Who is the mix tape for?" Robin asks him only once they're at Steve's house and settled in for the night in front of the fancy stereo in Steve's living room. Robin's called her parents already and told them she was staying with a friend, and they had leftovers for dinner from.

"Just in case. Now, shh," Steve says, and once Robin has properly quieted, he pressed record on the tape recorder and play on the stereo. He's already found the track he wants, so it's just a matter of waiting the song out, pausing the tape recorder quickly, then rewinding the tape. He goes too far back, so his finger just hovers over the record button until Running Up That Hill comes back on, and he repeats the process. Over and over again, until the hour long tape is filled with nothing but one song.

Robin watches him do it in complete silence. She doesn't move or shuffle until after he's paused the recording, stilling again once he hits record. He knows she doesn't understand why, but also that she doesn't need to understand. He knows that she knows he'll explain as soon as he's able.

He's just afraid to say too much right now. He can remember tomorrow; the Pennhurst plan, how it is supposed to go based on what remembers Nancy and Robin saying. Max will bully him into driving her around, and they'll end up at Billy's grave. He'll be ready this time, he already knows the answers they're seeking but he doesn't want to risk too much.

He has a plan. And it'll work. It has too.

Because he can't remember what happens after. Patrick dies, and there's... water? A lake? But why is Patrick at a lake in the dark? He isn't, is the thing. It's like there are two memories overlapping in Steve's mind and he doesn't know which is real. Or if either of them are.

There's a memory of... of Eddie? Eddie talking about Patrick floating but there's also a memory of hearing it on the news, Patrick found dead in his room, murdered the same way as Chrissy and Fred with no sign of forced entry in his house. Both memories feel real, but Steve doesn't know, can't tell, which is.

Robin and he falls sleep wrapped around each other that night.

-

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