#not just at a safely vague distance lmao

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

month-long chronic insomnia flareup got me acting a BIT too HDB-esk so I drew myself some Kims. I have cracked it! (The case of 'how to draw this MF')

feat one Harry, ECHEM, and Kineema that I fucking made up from memory because im not studying that beast

[averycutesalamander]

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He could. He should.)

(He won't.)

[doubledeadstudio]

Not sure if someone beat me to this, but yandere can be a multitude of different things, with the one thing in common "they are obsessed with someone, & they will kill for them."

This CAN turn into "if so-&-so doesn't except my feelings, I will kill them so no one else can have them" but it doesn't have to. Their are yanderes that will never hurt their obsession, but WILL kidnap them, & try to manipulate them into liking them, then there are yanderes who will kill anyone who gets close to their obsession, ect.

I think what the other anon was asking is: how would Crux & Black be AS yanderes? Would they ever hurt MC, or is that off the table at all costs? Are they super jealous and will kill anyone you're close to, or only those that actively try to 'take you from them' (in their eyes)? If their feelings aren't reciprocated would they resort to kidnapping, or try to manipulate you until they are the only options left? ect.

(P.S. Love the game by the way, I started off being downbad for Vin, & ended up falling for Black. Wallet is already ready, even if it will be a while till the game is finished. Can't wait to find out even more about these characters! )

Oh I see... Judging from this and some flowcharts someone gave me on Discord, I think they would already be considered yanderes LMAO? And because of that I don't want to elaborate because of major plot spoilers.

(Although ngl the definition of "yandere" is so nebulous now. Because I really don't think they are yandere at all, but now it's so vague that any amount of love-based toxicity is "yandere"? Like Black would KILL anyone that looks at MC wrong but I always saw him as a knight type, not a yandere?)

But here are some CANONICAL things about these two that'll help you guys put some things together:

Crux

had a SPELL ALREADY PREPARED in the case of Black's death

knows everything, sees everything, has multiple copies of himself

is a deeply religious person

loves his family, gatekeeps them HEAVILY

literally admitted to tracking Black's internet activities

shows up "conveniently" constantly

Vincenzo has suggested some less than savory implications about his behaviors

known liar that manipulates information

Black

DEEPLY devoted to MC, especially protecting them

literally put himself in front of Vincenzo to block his attack DESPITE NOT KNOWING WHAT VIN OR HIS BODY WAS CAPABLE OF

always always makes sure MC is safe, walks MC home every night if they're working together

incredibly attracted to MC's scent and taste that he distances himself so he doesn't eat them

incredibly deprived of affection/touch deprived/etc and the type that pours all his efforts into a select few instead of getting close to many (literally just MC)

listens to anything mc tells them, like they're gospel, even when it hurts him

Asha mentions that if you're on his path, that he can't even see other people flirting with him because he's got someone on his mind

said he'd kill himself first before ever harming MC

[upslapmeal]

Rogue

Hey did you know this episode is going to be a bit Bridgerton? Not sure if the trailers ever mentioned it

gotta love an ep that starts with a bit of murder

just realised this is only the second non-RTD ep

I guess a shorter series means fewer eps for other writers :/

Fifteen and Ruby looking excellent!

‘try not to get engaged’ yeah you’d know about that wouldn’t you Doc. don't go giving anyone cocoa

‘does not-a-lord have a name?’ getting the Ken accent out

lmao they’re even doing the Bridgeton thing of playing covers of pop songs

surely going to send the Doctor Who Is A TV Show theorists wild

as well as Susan Twist being ‘just an actor playing several roles’

(RTD you absolute liar)

I haven't really been following the theory other than being vaguely aware of its existence but can you imagine if 'it's the only actor we could get' ended up as the in-universe explanation for her

‘you travel in a shed? why isn’t it cloaked’ get rekt

getting sad Captain Jack vibes

‘my name’s bond. molecular bond’

‘was that a wee smile from the most serious man in history?’ och aye

all the doctors!!!

shalka doctor???

‘come with me and you’ll be in a world of pure imagination’ Ncuti said he wanted to be Wonka or the Doctor!!

Fifteen: we've both lost everyone we've loved. hot.

Doctor bit of advice. your sad comments about losing everyone are slightly undercut by going :DD that's my best friend!! when asked about the person you're with lol

('I lost everyone. everyone I travelled with. ok the last one I just kinda told to go away because I was changing my face but yeah)

you know given that the jukebox is literally the only bit of furniture Fifteen has it would be nice if it was used like……ever

‘we can’t kill it so we’ll send it to a random barren dimension to die a slow isolated death!’ good old Doctor logic

‘tv signals beam out across the stars’ ok I genuinely have only come across the tv theory in passing but 👀

it is…interesting that they’ve gone for a kinda Bridgerton-style casting after last week’s ep…

if the chuldur had been wearing the duchess longer I’d have imagined it was engineered to look like Bridgerton but that’s not the case

Cameca in the distance like oh no not again

‘start wars with anyone who doesn’t look British!’ tbh I think they were managing that without the chuldur

oh no… Emily is going to be one of them isn’t she

that explains her just explaining social rules to Ruby earlier instead of being surprised she was even asking! that struck me as odd but I thought it was just the writing being a bit clunky

RUBY NO!!!

oh Doctor :( jinxed when you made that promise to keep her safe

‘your…birdiness’

wait wait oh no

ruby’s going to be pretending isn’t she

it’s why she’s the only one who still looks human

it'll have been interference from the earrings or something

yesss it was the earrings!

oh Ruby so willing to go :(

Doctor now is not the time for smooching!!!

well. that was a simpler fix than I expected

Fifteen: I’m fine!!!! ((((:

gotta love a big ol' hug

Fun! Silly! What other tv show could have serious thread villains with bird faces talking about cosplaying the world to death. Excellent. (In honesty not as good as the last few eps but enjoyably ridiculous with a decent dollop of heart)

[the-messenger-of-the-gods]

— Chomp —

Rating: Explicit

Status: Completed

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Little man gets the Chomp (no actual gore sry). After preparing to just be unceremoniously eaten, Riley finds he’s in for more than he expected—my first smut fic! Of course it’s for this shit lmao. Willing giantess vore, gets right into the smut, plenty of teasing and mouthplay, characters’ fates left vague, but they are reoccurring so safe to assume it’s digestion with reformation. Enjoy!

—

Edit: Added names, because I slipped and made these guys ocs. They both start with R and lean gender neutral, so incase that’s confusing, Rori is the woman and Riley is the man. Also testing my luck with tumblr by getting rid of the ao3 link and putting the full fic here.

—

Fingertips wrapping around one of his ankles, she lifted him up, up, up, until Riley was level with her face—no, not her face—her lips. The delayed vertigo of the upside-down trip up hit him all at once as she brought him not higher, but closer.

She stopped just millimeters shy of contact. A small exhale washed over him—a sigh of satisfaction. As if to say, Finally.

Riley held his breath. He expected at any moment, those lips would part and gigantic jaws would pull every ounce of him in with a single swallow. Imagining what it would be like made his hands start to shake.

Her lips twitched, but Riley couldn’t tell if it was in response—could she feel him trembling? Did she think it was terror? Hope? Excitement?

He had no time to find an answer—rather than moving him again, she closed the distance with her lips—softly. Very softly, as if trying to feel for certain where his face was. It dawned on him their faces were so close, she could not see his—she—and he—had to go almost purely off of sensation. The idea was rather thrilling as her lips brushed over Riley’s face, mapping out the details of his nose, brow ridge, mouth, cheeks, chin—committing them to memory. Savoring every last detail. It was both caring and keen, yet controlled in a way he could tell was holding back true desires.

Content, her lips stilled against his face. So close to him, Riley could not see them open, but he felt it—muscles tensing, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to pass through those massive lips into ravenous jaws; to be consumed, body and soul.

She breathed in—smelling him, maybe. Breathing in his fear. His anticipation.

His heart hammered furiously. Riley tilted his head against her lower lip—questioning—What are you waiting for? Eat me.

But all she did was let out a light-hearted scoff and push lips against him, harder this time.

A kiss.

Her lower lip cradled the top of his head. Her cupid’s bow grazed his chin. Against his skin, her lips pulled into an amused little smile.

“Hanging in there?” Rori whispered coyly, and for a moment Riley thought to struggle if it weren’t for all the blood going to his head.

“I thought you were going to eat me,” he breathed.

She tilted her head. “Do you want me to eat you?”

His face burned red, but it only made her grin. Through the blurriness of close proximity, Riley could see white—her teeth. His pulse quickened.

Rori removed her lips, and disappointment rushed over him like a wave of ice—disappointment—?

“I said—”

—He jumped as her voice appeared left of his head, just above his ear—

“—Do you want me to eat you?”

“I—” His mouth opened, but upside down, the words caught in his throat.

“Hm,” Rori mused, and her lips returned to his face—pressing over his mouth, his nose—and she held them there, just for a second long enough to make him panic. Before he could process it, she was pressing another kiss to him—the side of his face, his chin, the other side of his face—and then she began to move down, or rather, up, his body. His throat. His chest. The side of his ribcage. His thigh—and Riley realized not enough blood was flowing to his head.

But she was not done with him. Rori slowly turned him around in her fingertips, kissing between his shoulder blades, along his spine, his lower back—her lips tingling against the back of his knee made him jump. Nobody had ever kissed him there.

She dragged her lips over his entire body until his lungs heaved and his breath was ragged—the idea of being eaten now mostly forgotten, Riley desperately pushed his hips towards her, but found only cold, empty air as she skipped right over the almost painfully tight tenting in his boxers—again.

A frustrated noise escaped him, higher pitched than he would’ve expected. And as if this were exactly what she was waiting for, Rori pulled back just enough for him to see the wolffish grin on her face.

“Oh, god.”

She was on him again in an instant—this time, he was not met with lips, but her tongue. His short black hair was plastered to his face as she licked him from the top of his head to the top of his free foot, back down again, and then came back for more. This time, she left not a speck of him dry; not a single stretch of skin pure. No, this time, Rori let it be known: she was hungry.

She eagerly flicked her tongue over every part of him, the muscle rough from gigantic taste buds, yet each time her tongue dragged over his dick, it was not enough.

“Come back,” Riley struggled. “No—augh—come back here—please.”

Her breath rolled over him. She sucked on his hip, his shoulder blade, his elbow, his fingers, back again—finally, finally, lips pressed against his dick. The pressure and the friction of the wet fabric was good, but still not enough. He needed taste buds. Lips. Skin-to-skin.

Riley squirmed in her grasp, trying to twist himself against her lips at just the right angle.

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.

Snickering, Rori seemed to get the hint. Pinching the band of his boxers between pursed lips, she pulled them past his knees, over one ankle, adjusted her grip, and then over the other ankle. She pulled her face back just enough for him to watch the dark fabric disappear between those lips and a moment later, Riley heard the swallow.

His heart caught in his throat, but between the blood rushing to his head and his dick, he couldn’t think straight enough to register what he’d just witnessed.

Rori licked him again, slow and sensual, enjoying his taste now that he was stripped bare. His heart fluttered as she gave his cock a kiss on the tip—then his blood froze as for a moment it seemed like she might use teeth, but thought better of it.

Turning Riley so he now faced away from her, Rori raised him to her lips to press another quick kiss to the back of his head—and then kept lifting him higher, tilting her head back. He twisted in her grasp to see her face and her stone-gray eyes caught his, half-lidded with lust yet strikingly collected. In control even as desire threatened to take over completely. In them, a dark, wicked glee twinkled playfully, and she gave him one long, last kiss.

The next time her lips rose to meet him, her teeth clamped onto either side of his head—not hard enough to break skin, but enough that a panicked shriek tried to claw its way out of him. Like his words, it died in his throat.

Riley bucked against her clutch, but she’d already moved along, releasing his head as the heat of her lips engulfed his throat, sliding past—her teeth grazed his shoulders, his arms, his torso, his ass. Her tongue found his dick again and her pace slowed, taking time to torture him by massaging it between his stomach and the thick, pulsating muscle. Taste buds rubbed against the head and he groaned.

Encouraged, Rori sucked on his entire upper body, lips and teeth locked around his knees and digging into his calves.

“Fuck!” Riley breathed, turning his face to the side so he could brace his head against her tongue. His hands found her bottom molars and gripped them for support—the one thing holding him up over the open abyss he couldn’t see but knew with absolution was there. Still, he dared to release one hand to wrap fingers around his aching cock. A desperate moan escaped him, moving his fist furiously. It wasn’t enough. Riley needed to feel her tongue—all of it, all at once—rub his entire body across every last taste bud—be the most delectable thing she’d ever tasted. The best. The most delicious morsel to ever grace her mouth. An unforgettable meal—snack—desert—whatever he was. To consume her mind with hunger and lust the same way he wanted—no, needed her to consume his, literally, figuratively, spiritually—

A particularly strong lick threatened to throw him off balance. Riley returned both hands to his grip on her teeth, opting to lean up and fuck full-force into the burning hot surface of her tongue. Grinding hips against pulsating taste buds. Trying to hold on.

Saliva pooled onto his head, over his arms, running down his back and collecting against the side of his face pressing into her tongue—the way it does when you need to swallow something.

Oh my god, she’s going to eat me! Riley realized, sliding back and forth against her tongue in a frenzy. I’m inside her fucking mouth and she’s going to eat me! Tease me like this, let me fuck like a desperate animal into her mouth, and then swallow me whole. Devour me. Make me hers—until there is nothing left.

Her breath was hot and heavy in his ears. Sweat and saliva clung to him. When he thrust up into her tongue, Rori sucked down on him like he was made of candy. His balls hitched.

“Fuck,” Riley groaned, unable to tell if she could even hear him with her mouth closed around him, over the roar of sex— “Cumming!”

She sucked down on his body harder than ever before. His arms shook and he lost his grip, her tongue rising to press his back to the ribbed roof of her mouth. His fingers ached, finding another handhold against the underside of her top teeth, desperate for the leverage to thrust with as much force as possible. Her taste buds seemed to squeeze his dick almost painfully. He was melting—Riley was melting. His brain and his body and his dick were melting into her mouth, wanting to stay there forever in the heat, in the dark, wet pleasure, fucking forever into her all-encompassing tongue. Too good. It was too good.

Rori moved her tongue—tasting his cum—tasting him, his sweat, his skin, how his little lungs sputtered as she picked up her unrelenting pace again. She flicked his throbbing dick and still-tugging balls, licking him from hole to tip. Anguished, Riley cried out as she drew out the last few sparks from his near-painful high, scraping warm, powerful flesh against an all-too sensitive cock. Playing with him. Toying with him. Pushing him just to feel how far one tiny little body could go. How much pleasure he could take.

Then, in an instant, the world shifted—her tongue tipped him over the side of her teeth and face-first into the smooth surface of the inside of her cheek. Scrambling to keep from falling, Riley gripped her teeth, using his knees to push off her gums and lay against the side of her cheek.

He could just barely make out her tongue moving to the roof of her mouth in the darkness—saliva ran past him to gather at the back of the throat and then—she swallowed.

From inside her mouth, the sound was loud and foreboding. Excess drool gone and tongue now free, Rori spoke.

“Do you—want me—to eat you?”

Riley struggled to catch his breath. His whole body ached like he’d run a marathon. He could tell even without seeing it, his skin was red and raw from her mouth’s manhandling. Her lips now parted properly, he could see into the back of her mouth. Her uvula hung like an ominous marker, almost like an arrow pointing down. The muscles of her throat danced with the rise and fall of her breath—making it impossible to ignore the walls of this cave were alive.

He flinched in surprise as Rori poked his side with her tongue. The same tongue she’d just railed him to hell with.

Riley looked at his hand, anchored in place in the grooves of a tooth the size of his head. All she needed do was close that powerful jaw and his hand would be crushed, the rest of him trapped between her teeth and the inside of her cheek. A living prison, but nothing like what awaited him below.

Air sucked in past him and then out just as rapidly—a sigh. Something tensed around his ankle, still outside her mouth, and Riley realized with a jolt she’d never let go of him—the entire time he’d dangled over the giant, hungry expanse of her throat, she’d never lost control over where he was going, even for a second.

Carefully, Rori readjusted her grip to flip him over. Her tongue helped guide him away from teeth as she pulled him from her mouth—up and up, until she could make successful eye contact.

The cold of the outside air on his wet skin made Riley shiver, like he might never be truly warm again. A little disoriented from the change in surroundings—still upside down, too—he attempted to wrap arms around himself and darted his eyes toward hers. He tried not to think about how they watched every minuscule movement. He felt his dick twitch.

Rori arched a brow. Something told him she would not ask the question again. Her eyes were far too focused for someone who’d just sucked off not just his dick but over half his entire body—focused like an owl on its prey, gliding down silently from the dark. Like a creature perfectly poised to hunt. It was no doubt she had him, from start to finish.

“Do you want to—to eat me?” Riley managed, relieved his tone sounded mostly even.

That same darkness glittered in her cool gray eyes. A hunger. Not for survival, but for enjoyment. Swallowing him, devouring his whole being because she could—no, not just because she could. Ravaging him because she wanted to—to claim his body as hers. Lock him up inside her own. Consume him entirely.

“What do you think?” She offered dryly.

He paused.

“I can’t believe you didn’t do it sooner,” he confessed, feeling his shoulders drop. He couldn’t tell now if he was still shivering from the cold or the look she was giving him.

Rori wet her lips. From his ankle, she lowered him again. His hands reached out to meet her lips, and her tongue flicked out over them.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” she whispered, and Riley leaned in in anticipation. He could feel his pulse, hammering wildly over the heavy drum of her own, beating beneath the warmth of her skin. Her breath was heavy with need. Rori sucked in a short laugh. “You look so cute like that—little and wide-eyed. And,” he met her eyes, so close to their prize, “I wish you could really know—you taste so good scared.”

She let go of his ankle. Finally, those jaws snapped open. The heat washed over him. The darkness took him. The wet clung to him. Her tongue rolled him, fully coating him in saliva as it pooled. For the first time, he was fully and completely inside her mouth—all he could hear was her mouth; feel was her mouth; licking and sucking and spinning and marking him with her spit, her skin, her soul.

He felt her savoring him. Cock hard and in hand, Riley rubbed both it and his face against her tongue, pressing as much of himself into the taste buds as possible—desperate to be savored.

Taste me. Taste me. Remember me—remember how good I taste. Remember how good I am.

Her tongue gave him an appreciative little flick; maybe a thank-you for being such a sweet little treat. Then, it pushed him to the roof of her mouth—gasping, Riley looked down at where he knew was the waiting second entrance. Finally, the impossibly loud swallow rumbled through every inch of his being and smooth, tight muscles engulfed him as she made him utterly and irrevocably hers.

You taste so good scared.

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere romantic concepts for Legoshi from Beastars? I'm surprised this wasn't requested yet lmao

Honestly, same. Now, I'm a bit rusty with Beastars so I apologize if he's OOC. Here you go! You're both animals but I kept it vague.

Yandere! Legoshi/Legosi Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Stalking, Obsession, Brief mentions of jealousy, Slightly clingy behavior, Slight delusional behavior, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Blood, Dubious relationship, Mentions of being feral, Implied murder, He doesn't mean to be scary.

Legoshi falls into the category of yandere that could be terrifying, just tries not to.

He's a wolf and by nature he can be intimidating.

Although Legoshi does everything in his power to appear less intimidating to everyone including his darling.

For the most part Legoshi is awkward and nervous around the idea of a crush.

Essentially how he acts when in love would be comparable to how he feels for Haru in the show and manga.

He's awkward and new to his feelings and vows to do his best to protect you.

Legoshi is capable of doing harm but he limits it to when you and/or him are in danger.

The wolf would never harm his darling, carnivore or herbivore....

He'd rather die than have to live with the fact he hurt you.

Legoshi is Obsessive, Caring, Overprotective, Impulsive, Patient, and Intimidating at times.

For the most part he's awkward and out of the way.

He isn't a very confrontational yandere, reclusive or his more social arc, which is partly what makes him safe compared to others.

He's also relatively down-to-earth and isn't usually delusional.

Legoshi truly is an obedient yandere who listens to his darling.

For a wolf he can be submissive to his beloved.

Legoshi usually likes to stay out of the way and watch his darling.

He likes to see you smile and speak with friends.

There's times he gets jealous but he usually isn't too aggressive about it.

He does like being included in what you are doing, however.

Legoshi is incredibly happy when he finally befriends his crush.

He was scared he'd scare you off due to being a wolf.

Yet you aren't, not by much at least if you are.

You've heard from others Legoshi is a kind and polite wolf which allows you to warm up to him.

Legoshi is definitely a yandere who reacts to compliments and praises from his darling.

The wolf is startled and awkward at first but soon accepts it.

His face never stops feeling heated and his tail is wagging after that.

Speaking of which, the wolf's tail gives away how he feels about you.

It's always wagging when he sees you and you can also notice his ears perk up when you're around.

Legoshi is obsessive over you and it's mostly due to the fact he overthinks.

Legoshi finds his mind and thoughts drifting to you throughout the day.

Which leads to embarrassment as now others are asking why his tail is wagging so much.

Legoshi would be a lovestruck yandere who's mostly innocent with his obsession.

He thinks of his crush on you as innocent and normal even when he follows you around at a distance at times.

It's not like he wants to hurt anyone over you, intentionally at least

Legoshi is caring towards his darling.

He truly tries not to be intimidating around you and shows he adores you.

Even when he eventually tries to make a relationship work he's more caring and loving than ever.

Legoshi wants nothing more than to make his darling happy.

He'll provide for you, stay around to comfort you, protect you... he wants everything to do with you.

He'd plan out a vague guideline of your future but it ends up being trashed multiple times due to how hectic his life is.

Legoshi isn't usually possessive in the beginning.

As a carnivore he has his moments, especially towards an herbivore! darling, yet for the most part he's just protective.

As a result he's almost never seen too far from you and often obsessively asks how you're doing.

He is not the most devious Beastars yandere.

Due to his nature he isn't very intense.

Legoshi may accidentally scare you at times but he desperately tries to have you forgive him.

Any forceful gesture is most of the time on accident.

He forgets his own strength at times.

Legoshi doesn't mind getting messy if it means saving you.

For Haru in the show, Legoshi would get his fur covered in blood.

The same goes for his darling.

Legoshi can go feral if your're threatened.

Biting, clawing... you name it.

He's more of a protective wolf compared to how I write Juno (a possessive wolf).

If he scares you then he tries his best to comfort you.

Even if he did lose control and did something violent out of jealousy or anything similar... he vows he'd never hurt you.

He just hates the smell of others on you. He just wants to keep you safe, that's all!

Legoshi is impulsive and doesn't think things through all the time.

This can happen when he fully relies on instincts around you or messes up an attempt at getting you to date him for some examples.

He gets a bit too eager at times.

Despite his inner instincts howling at Legoshi to just take you for himself, he tries to be a patient wolf.

He'd wait forever for the chance to have you.

Any sort of possessive behavior from Legoshi is caused by his more feral instincts.

The smell of his darling makes him yearn for you.

This makes him a bit more determined to date you, based on the type of yandere he is, you most likely will accept without much fuss.

Legoshi would never kidnap.

Murder is only done if it is a life or death situation.

Legoshi fights to protect you, deep down that's truly all he wants for his beloved darling. To protect and care for you.

It's when his instincts bubble up that his intentions turn much darker.

[quaranmine]

Your word-of-god on my theory is driving me UP THE WALL!

Ok, so let me make a timeline here, let me know if I'm wrong at any point.

He leaves his campsite on the 12th for a day hike, taking minimal supplies with him. He gets hopelessly lost and takes temporary shelter under some low-hanging tree limbs for the night.

He finds the mountainside where he fell early on the 13th and, with a pair of binoculars, can see the creek in the distance. Let's say the rangers and medical examiner were correct, and he was heading to the creek because, at this point, he's probably in the early stages of dehydration (his presumed cause of death)

He tries to climb down safely, and we all know how that went. He makes it as far as he can on a broken leg and possibly numerous superficial injuries that wouldn't have been evident a year later for obvious reasons. He takes shelter under the overhang and... never leaves.

Grian reports Mumbo missing on the 16th when he misses checking in.

Grian leaves Colorado and subsequently arrives in Cody, WY to join the search on the 17th and is immediately forcibly subjected to a nap.

At this point, Mumbo has been under that overhang for the better part of five days. If he was already dehydrated, even mildly, before he even fell, and especially if he lost a medically significant amount of blood from any abrasions or lacerations suffered during the fall...

There is a significant probability that Mumbo was already dead by the time Grian joined the search.

Grian never had a chance of finding him alive, did he?

Damn...

OOOO

Okay so your timeline is a bit different than mine. But I'd like to note—my idea of what happened to Mumbo in general is actually pretty vague. It was one of those things where it didn't actually matter much to the plot since it would never fully be known. Also it made me sad to think about LMAO (imagine that.) Actually though? I had a draft of chapter 11 where when Grian was unknowingly retracing Mumbo's steps, it would be intercut with italics/otherwise clearly formatted Mumbo moments. So that you could see both of their stories converge. I scrapped it because I disliked the ~3 paragraphs I'd written for Mumbo and never came back to it.

So, the dates for this can be whatever you want (12th or 13th) since the specifics don't matter much. I think the main difference is that I didn't have Mumbo getting lost as the first step, I had it as the second. This means that I had Mumbo leaving the trail intentionally to get water, and getting lost on the way. In my scenario yes, the rangers were right about him heading to the creek.

I mainly had this idea because of my experiences with backpacking in Big Bend. Namely, it's just....very, very, very hard to bring enough water on a trip like that. So people bring water filters. When hiking the South Rim in Big Bend, you can refill your bottles at Boot Spring (though you shouldn't rely on it having water since it's the desert.) I have done this before. (Pictured: my dad lol)

I figured that Mumbo probably needed to refill his water (Grian stated he left no bottles at camp, not just that they were empty, so he would've brought comparatively a lot for a day hike. So maybe he planned on refilling them later in the day.) I figured that maybe he just....didn't want to completely overshoot his camp to go back to the creek he crossed a day or two before. Maybe he thought his off-trail route was shorter. Maybe he was confident he could find the trail again. It doesn't matter, all that matters is it brought him to the place where he fell. Or maybe, related to what you said—maybe he made this somewhat silly decision because he was already dehydrated.

From that point on, I think the rest of your timeline matches with mine. You are right that they wouldn't be able to tell any other superficial injuries a year later. Actually, I've got no idea if they would be able to tell it was dehyrdation that did it after that long. That's MY idea of what happened. But probably it would have been more accurate for the rangers to file it under a general blanket of exposure/infection from injuries/dehydration.

I can't say if Mumbo was dead or not by the time Grian joined the search. You're 100% correct that it's very possible. The only reason I don't confirm is that I don't know the timeline myself, nor does the timeline really matter that much, since even if he was alive when the search started, it would've only taken a day or two more before he wasn't. And since he wasn't in the search radius....You are right that Grian never had a chance.

But I think it's less sad that way, honestly. Devastating still of course. I just think it's worse to linger for weeks when nobody is looking in the right place.

[drabbles-mc]

Nothing New (Part 2)

EZ Reyes x OFC (Lola Ortega)

Part 1 can be found Here

For Day 22 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: "Let's get you cleaned up."

Warnings: 18+, angst, language, blood/injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I think about these two all the time. My brain has been Bad lately so hopefully this still came out okay. I just. I love their angst and their constant push and pull. I want to make life easy for them but I can't lmao

EZ Reyes Taglist: @rosieposie0624 @noz4a2 @queenbeered @choochoo284 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mijagif @withmyteeth @kelpies-shed @louisianalady @gemini0410 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @amorestevens @garbinge @justreblogginfics @jveudlamoula @passionatewrites @nessamc @winchestershiresauce @artemiseamoon @littlekittymeow @frattsparty @fanfic-n-tabulous @beardburnsupersoldiers @justazzi @solidly-indulgent @danzer8705 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The weeks that followed their last discussion felt precarious. It felt like there were still eggshells hidden around, waiting for one of them to step on them and reduce it to shatters. The distance that time had put between them was hard enough to traverse, but the extra miles that EZ was manufacturing to keep her away just seemed cruel, salt in an already-aggravated wound.

She could deal with limbo, to a certain extent. She expected it, even, as they got back into knowing each other. The usual routine for reconnecting with old friends had gotten thrown out the window the first night they saw each other after so many years apart, so now they were back-tracking and trying to do it over the right way this time. It wasn’t as easy as they’d hoped, especially with the bumps they’d already hit in the road, but they were determined to figure it out.

They existed in the space between friends and something more. It would’ve been simple enough to pretend that their first night together didn’t happen, or that it was just a mistake borne from too much alcohol and too many years apart. But the truth was that neither of them wanted that. Even EZ, for all of his self-sabotage, wasn’t ready to let her go now that he’d had her like that.

But that didn’t mean that he was ready to let her in, either. The push-and-pull of that muddied the waters, kept things from being simple. He could feel himself doing it, too, but he couldn’t seem to make himself stop. There were a lot of things that EZ still didn’t get into with her. He said precious little about the club. Part of her understood that, understood that there was a lot that happened with the club that anyone who didn’t wear a kutte wasn't allowed to know the ins and outs of. But she still wanted to get a better picture of what it was all about now, what this huge new part of EZ’s life meant for him, and for her, if she decided to stick around.

When EZ had left her apartment the day before, the last thing he said to he was that he’d let her know when he was back safe at the clubhouse. He didn’t say where he was going, didn’t say why, and Lola didn’t ask him to tell her either of those things. She knew that she was going to be met with vague answers, so she took what she had been given. That was well over twenty-four hours ago now, though, and from the way he had been talking it didn’t sound like whatever it was that he was doing was going to take that long. But she’d gone to work, come back home, and done it all over again all without hearing anything from him. So now she was back to sitting on her bed, trying not to overthink it all.

Letting out a deep sigh, she reached over and grabbed her phone off her nightstand, scrolling to the last text message she’d sent him. She sent it late the night before when she could feel herself finally about to go to sleep. Just a short, simple, “Hope everything is okay” that she never got a reply to.

She toyed with the phone in her hands for a few moments before hitting the call button. Part of her knew better than to get her hopes up that he would answer, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

After a long series of rings, she was met with the automated voice telling her that the person she was trying to reach wasn’t available. The couple seconds before the beep had Lola wondering if it was even worth it to leave a voicemail for him. If he didn’t have time to answer a text, it wasn’t more likely that he was going to give her a call back. Taking a deep breath, she managed to end the call just before the beep sounded.

She let her phone drop onto her comforter, running her hands over her face and back through her hair. Suddenly the stillness and silence of her apartment felt like a bad omen, like a calm before the storm. She didn’t know if that feeling would be more or less intense if she actually knew what the hell EZ and the rest of the club were getting into.

Another hour went by, and there was still nothing. No text, no call, no EZ miraculously showing up and knocking at her apartment door. If he hadn’t promised she’d hear from him, she wouldn’t be worrying so much. They were grown, they could go a couple days without talking—they didn’t owe each other anything when it came to that. But he was the one who had said he’d be in touch, and now it was radio silence.

Letting out a groan, she yanked the blanket off her legs, kicking it so that it bunched up at the foot of her bed. Swinging her legs over, Lola got up and made her way over to her dresser, changing out of her pajamas, trading in her comfortable shorts for jeans, swapping out one tank top for another. She swiped her phone off the bed, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans as she left the comfort of her bedroom. She barely slowed down enough to slip her boots on, too focused on grabbing her bag and her keys and getting out of the apartment. It was a miracle that she remembered to lock the door behind her.

It felt unnaturally dark out when she pulled up to the scrapyard. They had a few scattered lights throughout the compound, something between a street-lamp and a light pulled from a high school football field. The light cast off from them just seemed to emphasize the rest of the darkness that was surrounding them.

Putting her car in park, she hopped out. The small handful of times that she’d been there, the gate had been open. She frowned as she looked at the heavy metal, wondering how she was supposed to get herself on the other side of it. Even in her younger more reckless days, that was one gate that she wouldn’t have been able to hop even if she had been stupid enough to try.

Raking her nails back along her scalp, she tried to figure out what her next plan of action was. It wasn’t like she could just call EZ to come and let her in. The fact that it was so quiet had her thinking that no one was around. Then it became a question of whether she was going to wait and hope someone turned up, or if she was just going to go all the way back home to sit and worry there instead.

Just as she was about to slump down and sit in front of the gate, she heard the rattling of the office door being pulled open. She froze, feeling hopeful and like she was trespassing at the same time. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited to see who it was that would be walking out.

The man was whistling, eyes on the ground as he watched his step leaving the building. It was only when he lifted his gaze to turn around that he noticed Lola’s car. Then, looking around, he noticed Lola. His eyes grew wide, but he didn’t flinch.

Lola had no idea who he was, but the Romero Brother’s shirt that he was wearing gave her a little bit of hope. Clearing her throat, she walked over to him. “Hi.”

“The scrapyard is closed,” he said, studying her like he was trying to figure out if he was supposed to know her.

“I know. I, um,” she didn’t know how much she should say, “I’m looking for EZ. He’s my…he’s a friend.”

“A friend,” he repeated.

She nodded. “Yea.” Both of them stood there awkwardly for a moment before Lola realized that she should probably tell this guy who she was. “Sorry.” She held her hand out, not batting an eye at his prosthetics. “I’m Lola.”

“Lola,” he said, like he was turning the word over in his mind. “I’m Chucky.” He paused. “EZ isn’t here.”

Apparently he’d gotten the memo about giving vague answers. “Right. Okay. I just, I’ve been waiting to hear from him and…nothing.”

He frowned at the worry in her expression. “I don’t know where they are.”

She believed that. She just didn’t know what she was supposed to do now. “O-okay. Thank you, Chucky.”

“Do you want to wait here?” he offered.

She couldn’t hide the relief on her face. “That would be great, yea.”

He gave a small nod before walking past her towards the gate. “No one else is here. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

She wasn’t as sure about that as he was, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. After she’d pulled her car in and parked it off to the side out of the way of the clubhouse, she found herself standing in the empty lot, feeling much more out of place than she already had, which she wasn’t quite sure was possible. Chucky lingered with her for a few minutes, clearly unsure about whether or not he should be leaving her there alone.

They were each seated on the steps that led up to the clubhouse, and Lola was about to apologize for holding him up, making his late night even later. However before she could, the sound of motorcycle engines cut through the silence in the air. Both their heads snapped to look towards the gate. Sure enough, hardly a few minutes later, the entire entourage of bikes, and the van, all came rolling in.

Chucky was up on his feet in a second, making his way towards where they were all starting to line up their bikes. Lola managed to get herself to her feet, but she hung back by the steps. She knew that she probably wasn’t supposed to be here for any of this. The less noticeable she made herself, the better.

She watched from the sidelines as each of the men began to dismount their bikes, taking their helmets off in the process. She saw Angel first, which was reassuring. A couple of the other men she didn’t exactly know but she’d seen them before when she stopped by to see EZ. Everyone looked exhausted, beat up in one way or another. However, as the sound of bike engines started to die off, all of them beginning to fall silent, she still had yet to see EZ. Her nails were nearly drawing blood from her palms as she clenched her fists at her side.

None of the guys seemed to notice her as they talked among themselves. Lola watched with bated breath, tears starting to well in her eyes as she waited for any clue as to what the hell was going on. She watched as Angel walked around to the back of the van, sighing as he yanked the back doors of it open.

“Alright, Boy Scout,” he said, sounding more exhausted than anything as he reached to help his brother stumble out the back of the van, “let’s go.”

“EZ?” the name came falling out of Lola’s mouth before she could stop it. Not especially loud, but the surprised yet concerned lilt in her voice caused everyone to turn and look at her.

It was only then that Chucky spoke up, turning and looking at EZ who was leaning on his brother for support, breaking the tense silence with, “Lola came looking for you.”

Angel tried to choke back a chuckle, knowing that it wasn’t the time or the place. EZ just shook his head, peeling his gaze off of Lola and looking at the man who had a knack for pointing out the obvious, “Thanks, Chucky.”

He took that as his cue to leave, giving a nod to the rest of the men who were standing around before taking off back towards the gate to leave. Lola started to make her way towards where everyone was standing, while most of the men started to disperse, heading for the clubhouse. Lola passed by them all without a word as she walked up to Angel and EZ.

“What are you doing here?” EZ asked when she walked up to him.

She frowned at his tone even though she knew it was coming. “I—”

“She’s helping me carry your ass to the trailer,” Angel cut her off, knowing that this was going to turn into an argument that he didn’t want to be part of. He looked at Lola before nodding at EZ. “Help me out.”

Lola was about to loop her arm around the other side of him when EZ waved her off. “I’m good.”

Angel rolled his eyes as the three of them slowly made their way towards EZ’s trailer. “Yea, you’re good. That’s why Creep had to ride your bike the rest of the way back.”

“What happened?” Lola asked, not able to contain her worry, her curiosity.

“Nothing,” EZ’s response came immediately, a knee-jerk reaction as he limped along.

Angel didn’t have the same reservations as he did. “He wiped out. Smacked his head off the blacktop.”

EZ rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that bad. Leg hurts worse than my head, honestly.”

“Yea,” Angel said with a scoff, “that’s because you’re missing some skin that’s supposed to be there.”

“Jesus,” Lola said quietly, going a few strides ahead of them so that she could pull open the door of EZ’s trailer.

EZ shot his brother a look. “Do you have to make it worse?”

Angel chuckled, shaking his head. “You do that just fine on your own with her, Little Brother.” He paused as he and EZ both awkwardly maneuvered up the stairs. “All those brains and you’re still a fuckin’ idiot.”

Lola only heard the latter comment, and it got an eye-roll out of her even if she wanted to laugh a little bit. “Angel…”

He dropped EZ rather unceremoniously onto the mattress, holding his hands up in surrender once he was done. “He’s your problem now.” He pulled her into a quick hug, and even through the brief gesture she could feel how tired he was. “You good?”

It took Lola a second to realize that Angel was talking to her, not EZ. Clearing her throat, she nodded. “Of course. Go and get some rest.”

“Yea,” he lightly squeezed her shoulder as he pulled away from her. He stepped past EZ as he reached for the door. “Call if you need me.”

EZ nodded, knowing that he wasn’t going to be doing that. “I will.” Once the door clattered shut behind Angel, EZ turned his attention back to Lola. He winced as he moved, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. “What are you doing here?”

“I got worried.”

“I told you I’d let you know—”

“And then you didn’t.”

“Well I wasn’t back.” There was more venom to his statement than he meant for there to be, but he didn’t apologize for it.

He wasn’t wrong, technically. He hadn’t reached out to say he made it back, because he hadn’t made it back. But that also wasn’t the real issue at play here. They both knew that, and Lola wasn’t going to let EZ try and turn their argument into something that it wasn’t.

“I was worried. I’m…I’m allowed that.”

“You can’t just be showing up here,” he said as he shook his head at her.

“You’d have more of a right to be upset about all of this if you were actually okay. But you’re not. I was right to worry this time.”

He shook his head. “I know. But I don’t,” he sighed, eyes dropping to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her, “I don’t want you involved in all this shit, Lola.”

“I’m not involved.”

“If you’re here, you’re involved,” he shot back.

The statement gave her pause. She figured that the reason he made the trek to her place more often than not was because there was just more room, felt a little more like a home than his trailer did. She figured that not really wanting her around the guys from the club was part of it, she just didn’t realize how big of a part it was.

“Well,” she shook her head as she started to gather up things to clean out the road rash that was only partially covered by his torn jeans, “I’m going to have to get involved eventually.”

“Why?”

Her brows furrowed as she looked over at him. “Are you planning on leaving the club anytime soon?”

“No, but—”

“And I’m not leaving you,” she cut him off, soft but firm. “So. You know…yea.”

For just a moment his angry façade cracked and real worry shone through. “What if something happened to you?”

She shook her head at him as she brought her things over. “Seems like you’re the only one who has things happening to them.” She held her hand out to help him up. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He winced a bit but otherwise held his tongue as he allowed her to help him up, trying to keep his weight off of the leg that took the brunt of the damage. If he didn’t know better he’d think that something in his hip got put in the wrong place with how much it hurt to try and move.

When EZ was sitting back down, she set about trying to clean his leg out the best that she could. She knew that there would be no getting him to the doctor over this, so she didn’t even bother trying. “Did you really just wipe out?” she asked as she cleaned.

He sighed, head dropping back so he was staring up at the ceiling. “Lola, don’t.”

“Ezekiel, come on. Even if I wasn’t here tonight, I would’ve seen this,” she gestured to his leg, “eventually. And I would ask then.”

“I know you think you wanna know all of this, know this part of me, but I’m telling you, you d—”

“How long are you going to be using that excuse?” she asked, wanting to sound angrier than she did. Tears started to gather at the edges of her eyes. “How long do I have to stay before you trust me?”

“We’ve hardly known each other for a month.”

She sat back on her heels at that, hurt all over her face. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true. I, I grew up three streets away from you! You played baseball with my brother all throughout high school! Don’t,” her voice shook as she tried not to let it crack, “don’t act like none of that matters.”

“It doesn’t,” he said, shaking his head, “Not when it comes to this.”

They both fell silent after that. Lola finished cleaning and wrapping his leg without much of an issue. She heard him hiss in pain a few times but she knew that if she tried to offer him any words of comfort she was just going to get herself worked up. Having the work to focus on for a bit was good, something to keep her emotions in check.

When she was done, she got up and went to wash her hands in his kitchen sink, still not saying anything to him. EZ watched her, and he couldn’t deny that he felt a wave of guilt over it all. He knew she meant well, that she cared. He knew that she wasn’t just going to walk away, but that’s what made it all so much more difficult for him. She wasn’t the type to turn tail and run out on someone when things got difficult, she never had been. Sticking by him when they were kids had been one thing, it’d been easy—there was no real danger back then. But now there was, and he didn’t want to be the one responsible for hurting her, destroying a life that she’d spent the last ten years building for herself.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

She nodded as she dried her hands. “You’re welcome.”

There was a long pause before he asked, “Are you gonna head back?”

She shrugged—she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Do you want me to stay?”

It felt selfish to say yes after all that he’d said to her. But he also had to think that if she didn’t want to stay, she wouldn’t have given him the option. “If you want.”

A sad, tired smile tried to lift the ends of her mouth. “Okay.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment as she went and grabbed one of his shirts to wear, letting her clothes land in a pile on the floor. She watched as EZ shrugged off his kutte and put it off to the side before peeling his shirt off over his head. He let that fall in the pile with her things as well. When he looked back at her, any calm he might’ve felt over the sight of her there, with him, wearing his things, was erased when he saw the way her eyes were taking in the bruises scattered on his body.

Without either of them saying a word about it, she crawled into bed beside him, neither of them minding the tight fit. She tried to carefully position herself around him so that she wouldn’t aggravate any of his injuries.

After a few minutes of laying there in silence with EZ’s hand lightly trailing up and down her back, Lola said, “I know…I know you look at my life and think that you shouldn’t be part of it.”

He exhaled, visibly deflating. “Lola…”

Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked at him. “You can’t keep using my life against me, using it as an excuse to keep me at arm’s-length.”

He toyed with the ends of her hair that were laying on his chest as she leaned over him. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to protect me from you. If anything,” her hand grazed over the scar running down his arm, “I should be protecting you from you.”

He let out a quiet chuckle at that. “Maybe.”

There was a beat of silence before the heaviness returned. “I don’t want whatever this, we, turn out to be, I don’t want it to be a fight every step of the way. It doesn’t have to be like that.”

“I know.”

She shook her head, bringing her hand so that it was cupping the side of his face. “Then you gotta stop fighting me, Ezekiel.”

He rested his hand over hers. “I’m trying, I’m just,” he let out a small laugh, “really bad at it.”

For the first time since he’d left, Lola felt the knot in her stomach start to go away. “Yea, I see that.” She let him weave his fingers through hers. “Pendejo,” she said softly with a shake of her head.

“You’re the one who said you wanna stick around,” he said, a smile on his face despite the exhaustion.

Allowing herself to lie down next to him again, she let her cheek rest against his chest. She pulled her hand away from his face and let her arm drape across him. “I do. And I will.” She felt the ride of the scar on his stomach beneath her palm. “I promise.”

[auryborealis]

For the OC prompt list: 🐱🦀💖

oc x canon ask game! (always accepting >:D)

🐱: Do they have pet names for each other, if so what are they? How does their partner feel about their pet name?

Of course Sanji has pet names for Yuna lol. The ones he frequently uses are: mon ange, mon coeur, mon étolie, and my goddess. At first, Yuna just casually accepted them since she expected it as part of Sanji's flirty personality but once they actually got together, she becomes more amused by them (especially the "goddess" one) but secretly enjoys them.

While Yuna isn't someone who often uses pet names (if ever), she thought that it was unfair to Sanji if she didn't have one for him. She even shares this worry with him and although he reassures her that he doesn't mind, after some thinking, she calls him "[my] dearest" and he almost bursts in happy tears. She'll also call him "my prince." Either one gets the tip of his ears to flush.

🫶: Who ended up falling first? Which of them actually realized that they’d fallen in love first? (answering this instead of 💖 since it's not on the list)

While I want to say obviously Sanji given how we all know he goes immediately hearteyes over any pretty girl, I think the first one to actually go from the "infatuation/crush" stage to "in love" - as well as realize it - was Yuna. She gets quickly attached to him especially after he saved her life and therefore, he was initially one of the two Straw Hats who made her feel safe and comfortable during her adjustment to the crew (the other being Nami until she eventually got closer to the rest).

It's hard to pinpoint exactly when Yuna fell in love with him (or more like I still didn't think of it yet though it could've been more of a gradual thing). She doesn't even realize her feelings and even thinks she's become ill until she talks with Nami and the navigator helps her process it. Yes that one comic I did is canon (to this storyline lmao).

As for Sanji, I think he fell in love with her pretty soon after she did but he takes longer to realize it.

🦀: How did they handle realizing they were in love? Embarrassed? Nervous? Mad?

When Nami helps Yuna realize that she's in love with Sanji, her reaction is very mixed. At first, the novelty of the feeling intrigues her but as the realization sets in, she grows more dejected and even fearful. Because of her self-loathing and Sanji's flirtatious nature, she immediately assumes that he won't reciprocate her feelings and even if he did, they will not last long. The fear is due to her comparing herself to a certain someone who had been obsessed with her in the past (the same person who trapped her on the island the Straw Hats found her on). She misunderstands her jealousy whenever Sanji flirts with another woman as her becoming like that certain person and it terrifies her because she doesn't want to hurt him that way (btw I'm being vague about her past here cause I gotta keep some details for the fic that I will definitely write, right? ;)) So after this realization, she starts to keep her distance from Sanji unless necessary. She doesn't act coldly; she'll still smile and thank him as he's serving meals and occasionally help with the dishwashing and all that but she noticeably spends less time with him.

Sanji's moment of realization is when he overslept after a night out at a bar and Yuna took over breakfast duty. She specifically cooks meals that helps with hangovers and when she brings over his plate, that was his "oh" moment. He's at loss for what to do because it's unlike how he expected to react and his mind goes wild as he wonders if she feels the same way. And of course, since this is when Yuna is keeping her distance, he begins to doubt that she does. He also thinks that Yuna is in love with Robin (when Robin joined, Yuna did have a brief crush on her). This combined with knowing her past trauma - as well as him not feeling worthy of her - prevents him from revealing his feelings to her and he attempts to shove it down with his continuous womanizing.

TLDR; they are both pining idiots and meanwhile this is Nami the whole time:

[everyone-with-a-para]

(5/5) alright! arc four! once all the alola stuff wraps up, cole+my guy are...still fired from aether, not that they'd want to be associated with aether now anyway. so it's time to develop a new research angle, and This time it's working with professor burnet to develop a way for them to safely traverse the ultra wormholes that nebby can create. and where does the first one drop them but hisui, over 100 years in the past! and initially they're just. out in the wilderness. and they're not stuck as long as they have nebby, so they could leave, but they want to explore a bit instead of just dipping out because they can't see any signs of civilization. so they do a little wandering+luckily, instead of getting Attacked by anything, they run into the pearl clan's favourite warden: ingo! this ingo is distinctly different from my other para of him; this one has been living in hisui for like. At least ten years. maybe closer to 15. and he only vaguely remembers his home+has basically resigned himself to the fact that he's never gonna see anything even remotely close to it again...until he runs into this little group of very-obviously-modern travellers+is like Oh My God. he pretty much assumes the lot of them are fallers right away+starts fussing immediately, trying to orient them+get them somewhere safe, while THEY'RE all looking at each other like "is it just me or is that a unovan railway uniform. where the hell are we?"

either way, things get cleared up+ingo is...somewhat disappointed to discover that they're not in the same situation as him, but also relieved because good lord nobody deserves that. and they tell him "well we're gonna stay here for a little for research because this place has got pokemon we've never even HEARD of, but when we go we could try+see if we can get you back home." initially ingo declines because he has Duties here, but he *does* accompany them when they go on research because he knows the land better+doesn't want this group of kids (read: roughly 17-25 year olds) dying in the wilderness. and it's during this, while watching everybody Be A Family from the distance, that it occurs to him "ohhh i see. I Miss Having A Family. Badly." and it's not just having a family, it's also having Anyone who really understands him. as much as he's settled into hisuian culture, he's still an outsider from another time. so when it comes time for everyone to pack up+leave for real, he decides (with a bit of regret) to abandon his post as a warden+come with. part of it is the temptation of being able to actually Go Home, but it's also because everybody else has genuinely grown on him+he doesn't want to lose anybody he feels close to again. Found Family Complete. for now at least.

...and THAT'S the story as it stands! this could go a few different directions; right now i'm playing omega ruby+depending on how much i end up thinking about it everybody could end up getting plunked in hoenn. there's also obviously if, how, and when an emmet/ingo reunion happens but nothing concrete has been worked out for that. i'm trying not to go "oh my god this is fucking long" for the 70 millionth time because you DID say you were interested so um. thank you for reading. i REALLY hope this all sends in proper order+tumblr doesn't eat any of these asks lmao but if it does i can resend any of them. again: literally had to draft this in a word doc. can you believe this is the Short version of all this. i swear to god this is meant to be more truncated. i'm not even going into the symbolism of everyone's pokemon teams or anything. did you know genesect is here? fucking genesect has been here the whole time

@ninesecretsteps

Ingo mention Ingo mention Ingo mention!!!! (Can you tell I love him?)

Oogh I put Ingo in Hisui for 5-7 years depending on how I feel but people who do 10+ make me incredibly sad

My Ingo has very similar complicated feelings about his Duties and life he's made in Hisui vs the want to go home when Akari convinces (threatens) Arceus to let them. He very almost decides not to leave. It also doesn't help that he has no memories other than a flash of Emmet's face and the vague knowledge of a fire type pokemon. He's afraid of what he'll find or what he won't find because he just doesn't know whereas Hisui is Known and Predictable (and he's autistic) but also also Hisui never felt like Home. He's always been an outsider no matter how much of the clan eventually accepted him

My Ingo and Emmet do get a reunion and I daydream it a lot

Genesect:🧍

Thank you for sharing!!! I enjoyed reading these immensely!!!

[onlyswan]

hi art <3 thought i'd answer your cute lil year-end survey because i just have to talk about my favorite drabble of yours...

but then i was going through the second masterlist and as i was reading each title i went 'oh that's definitely my favorite- no wait- that one, no no that one-' so it's safe to say narrowing it down to my top three was...a challenge. 

but! i did my research and found my answers cause you're my favorite writer and you know that saying that's like, 'if i could only paint one person for the rest of my life, i'd choose you?' it's like that for me but with your writing hehehe ♡♡♡

anyway, i'd have to say my three favorite drabbles from the in which collection are probably:

> in which you are jungkook’s religion and he wants to be your passenger princess

> in which jungkook can sleep without you, but he’d rather not to

those two are probably mostly cause i'm sentimental and they were the first drabbles of yours that i read so re-reading them makes me all mushy (and the very obvious fact that damn your writing is amazing)

and the third one is obviously the queen: > in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either (just now realizing that this is gonna be so long, i'm so sorry T^T) 

Next, some of my favorite scenes in your writing are where it's more from jungkook's perspective? it's so cute how he sees oc, and you are really good at painting a picture and making us see them in the same way (and also vice versa for when oc is thinking or talking about jk) 

as for some of my favorite paragraphs or lines, there's a specific way you write sometimes that i can't really describe? but it always makes me wanna bawl in a very endeared manner lmao. a few examples are:

"however, for the jungkook of today, control is an abandoned form of self-destruction and he can tell you in confidence that ‘here i am in all my glory. there are unfixable, fractured parts of me and i am laying them out on the floor for you to see- you can take me or leave me, but i know you’ll always choose the former’" 

"he wants to get under your skin, let his pounding heart cross the distance and meet yours like two penpals throwing caution to the wind. however, your hearts are prisoners to your vessels."

and oh my goodness there is another one i can't find :'( (my professors would be so disappointed in me not citing my final source lol) but it's an opening for one of the drabbles and i have it vaguely memorized inside my brain but can't seem to think of any of the words for it lmao. i don't even think it was from the second collection but all i know is that it talked about them moving mountains and crossing oceans to see each other and them loving living together. it is very dear to me hehe. (also may i just add, art. i-...stop lying to us all. how much poetry do you have published and listed with the biggest accolades? cause there's no way you just casually write like that and maybe i'm biased, but! if you haven't already received every accomplishment outside of tumblr for your writing it's cause your brain is too good at it for an accolade to even be created that matches it...)

ok, now for the favorite character question, it's not technically an answer but i love jungkook and oc both equally. i espcially love how they are very human. not to put down any other works, but the way you write is incredibly realistic which i really appreciate. just in a 5k word drabble i can instantly feel connected to both characters, what's happening in the drabble, and how relatable aspects of their personalities are. both your writing and the characters are soft and fluffy but also realistic in the way that it doesn't seem like they're in some dream-world where everything is perfect. they both have flaws and acknowledge them and just seem like, people? i don't know how to put it but argh you're very good at writing characters. 

as for which year i'd love to see more of, i'd say it'd be really fun to see the earlier aspects of their relationship and them being giddy over one another, but i also love the 2022-2023 stuff when they're living together because i'm a sucker for domesticity and i find reading about them sharing a living space and having bam so endearing. and then for the season i'd want to see more of, i'd say either winter or spring! i think spring is such a pretty time of year and brings so much to appreciate, but winter is my favorite season because the cold and snow are so much fun to me hehe. 

okok, i think that's it! sorry for this being so long :O but also just know that if you ever have doubts in your writing, someone just wrote a full 800 words on why they love it and appreciate it sooo....♡♡♡

anyway, i hope you're doing ok and have the time to do things that make you happy! please stay healthy and hydrated and i hope you have a nice day or night <3

-🌙 

just know that if you ever have doubts in your writing, someone just wrote a full 800 words on why they love it and appreciate it sooo....♡♡♡

oh, the way this brought me to tears. no kidding 🥲 my writing being worth the time to be also be written about by a person got me so freaking happy and also overwhelmed lol i want to give you so many kisses and huggies!!!! i don’t know what to say 🥹 i’m just so so so so grateful 🥹

oooo and i think the part you couldn’t recall where it’s from is the opening of in which alcohol plus k-drama is equals to your and jungkook’s tears !! 🥰 i rbed it recently that’s why i remembered but i wouldn’t have recalled it too omg it’s only this year but it feels so long ago

(also may i just add, art. i-...stop lying to us all. how much poetry do you have published and listed with the biggest accolades? cause there's no way you just casually write like that and maybe i'm biased, but! if you haven't already received every accomplishment outside of tumblr for your writing it's cause your brain is too good at it for an accolade to even be created that matches it...)

anonie ur such a cutie i love you 😭😭😭 how wonderful would that be <3 in the future though… might have to come up with a pseudonym. i’ll get find out too easily with artemis 🫢

i espcially love how they are very human. not to put down any other works, but the way you write is incredibly realistic which i really appreciate… both your writing and the characters are soft and fluffy but also realistic in the way that it doesn't seem like they're in some dream-world where everything is perfect. they both have flaws and acknowledge them and just seem like, people?

this is something i also very much appreciate hearing 🥺 like this is always one of my concerns, making them feel realistic as a couple and individuals. nowadays we seem to live in a near dystopian world and it’s beginning to feel like long term healthy relationships are seen as unrealistic and it’s honestly sad. it is possible !! between two flawed people who want to make it work !! <3 thank you 😭😭😭

this was one of the best christmas gifts i’ve ever received 🥺 i really didn’t expect to receive such a beautiful message in my inbox. as a writer it’s really so easy to lose motivation but rn i am filled with warmth and pride <3 i love you so much and i hope the year 2024 brings you all the joy you deserve in life! 🫂🩵

[silent-sentinels]

Plural Asking 100 Questions: Part 10!

(last one! ready?) 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

91. If you collectively had to choose, would you pick to become a vampire or a werewolf? vampire, we like the aesthetic better lmao also please let us be immortal so we can sleep more without time mattering as much hkjgh

92. Your body is transferred into one of your Members sources, which do you pick and why? oh hm well we don't have a source, but i guess we could all be transferred into disco? that'd be challenging kjhgfg

93. If all of you turned into animals right this second, which animals would we find in your System? LMAO OKAY SO!! a fox first of all, a manta ray, probably several fish, and also probably several types of birds, a bunny, a butterfly, a spider, a snake, some cats, several deer and deer-adjacent creatures.

94. What would a Minecraft server with all of your Members look like? (example: chaotic, peaceful, laggy, ...)

CHAOTIC AS FUCK HKJHG but also the body gets extremely motion sick from playing minecraft too long so that would suck hjkgh

disregarding that, maybe we'd try to recreate our city in headspace? could be a fun project to work on together!! though we're really not good builders hkjhg

i think we'd all share items, any chest is fair game if you're not a bastard about it hkjhg but also we're all so extremely forgetful and disorganized. maestro would probably try to organize everything to no avail hkjhg

did you know we never had minecraft growing up, so we just read the minecraft wiki for kicks? <- this was probably expertise's doing kjhgf but we do know a lot of crafting recipes now hkjhg also did you know 23 blocks is the exact height you can survive a fall from? and slimes at their tiniest deal no damage to the player? and-

oh motherfucker we'd be doing anything for an elytra but NONE OF US ARE GOOD AT FIGHTING HOW ARE WE GETTING PAST THE ENDERDRAGON hjkghg at some point we'd just gamemode some in

ryan and juliet are absolutely fucking with noteblocks and/or making a parkour course. scott is taming every animal ever hkjhg theseus is sitting in a corner and writing novels in minecraft book and quills hkjgh and we would all build a safe little house for ceres <3

mom and lili would make a cute little garden together and oath would be vigilantly guarding them from hostile creatures. we'd probably put lili in creative mode, we are NOT LETTING HER DIE HKJGHG

i think faucet would find it peaceful, since it's just us!! <33 and distance will probably do that thing where distance travels very very far away in a straight line before coming back with a bunch of things distance picked up!

burden would probably pick up on anything we're lacking and build farms for it. or make transportation easier. or place more torches so its safer. or craft better armor for everyone. just, responsible minecraft things hkjhjh

95. If you could choose between only living in Headspace or only living in Meatspace (real life), which would you choose? well our headspace is hazy and vague, but if it was a solidified headspace, then we'd love to live in our headspace city!! but if it has to stay hazy and vague we would uhhh probably lose all sense of self in there hkgjhg it's like brain fog but In The Real, the fuckin pale is swallowing us hkjgh

for all the drawbacks real life has, we do have people here we love and want to stay for. headspace would be a nice escape, but we're determined to live out here for the people we love.

96. What topic would you collectively make a youtube channel about? (it can't be plurality!) we'd probably make an art channel? speedpaints and animatics and such! we've always loved cool art channels... ooh maybe song covers too? who knows :3

97. Which superpower would your body obtain, if you had to collectively decide on one? flight!! its a little lame compared to other powers out there, but we've always wanted to fly :]

98. Who would pick the coolest tattoo for the System and who would pick the worst? the coolest would be a toss up and/or collaboration between Songbird and Debonair, who would probably pick some sickass artsy thing. the worst would be Sharps who would just convince us not to get a tattoo because it would hurt and like. yeah shes right it sure would hgkjhg

99. If you only were allowed to eat one food for the rest of your life, but you would have to decide on the food collectively, what would it be and what would the decision making look like The decision making would involve Yearning bemoaning a lack of sweets and ultimately resolve in us choosing wonton soup, which is our favorite food and has enough vegetables for our daily nutritional intake. rip cotton candy tho 😔

100. What is the most fun about doing polls and answering questions, in your opinion? we like getting to explain ourselves. we are a constant conversation, and we like getting to share even a bit of our thought processes (if faucet lets us, of course.) if theres a poll or a question asked, we know the answer we're giving is warranted and wanted, in some way. we like knowing there's people willing to listen to us :']

for these questions specifically, we've also been trying to get to know ourselves better!! we're still new, still processing, still trying to understand how we work! like, these questions made us realize sharps is an age slider and helped us situate headspace a little more so!! hkjgh yippee!!

thank you for reading any of these if you did!! we love you!!

[carlyraejepsans]

since sans is of another world, is papyrus from another world too? are they from different worlds but just so happened to end up in the same one, or does papyrus belong to the world of undertale while sans doesn't?

things we know about sans in deltarune:

he has a younger brother, presumably kris' age or not much older considering he's very protective of him and acts like leaving them to hang out alone "in his house" would be irresponsible

that or he's just weird about his adult brother for no discernible reason. which I sincerely hope isn't the case because come on

ironically, while the skelebros house sprite in undertale is named sans' house, the one in deltarune is named "paphouse".

the game value that checks whether you've already talked to sans about his brother in ch1 when you see him again in ch2 is called "paptalk". it's not his full name, but i believe it's safe to assume that sans' as of yet unnamed brother in deltarune is still papyrus.

naming yourself or the vessel after papyrus in the goner maker sequence will get the prompt "an interesting coincidence" and the steam page (i think?) for deltarune says he's "busy" so it's highly lilely he'll play a role in the story.

still, like you said, part of the evidence that sans comes from deltarune is that he dies in a way that's different from every other character in undertale. papyrus included.

something else weird about his death: he's the only character who has color (red blood) in his sprite in the battle screen, which is strictly black and white. this is very obscure and likely means nothing, but there's a weird comment in the undertale crosstitch book about how you can color the battle sprites if you want to diversify things but they "won't be canon". what an interesting thing to say, why would they feel the need to specify that...

thing is, papyrus' death remains much more similar to ye average undertale monster death. so... what's up with that?

papyrus and sans showed up to snowdin one day out of the blue, though it's not explicitly stated, they most definitely got there together.

"where do skeletons come from" is a question posed more than one time, if jokingly, such as by the baby bunny in deltarune

the snowdin residents had never seen them around before. which can also mean absolutely nothing, because they didn't even recognize us as humans lmao

undertale papyrus appears to have never seen the sun before

there's always the "forgettable" check description in the genocide run that haunts my every waking hour.

which is a theme that recurs both in deltarune (the song "don't forget") and in undertale through sans' workshop and the hidden drawing with "don't forget" scribbled on it.

sans has an attack called "gaster blaster". in one of undertale's patches, a bit of dialogue was added when checking the box of attacks in his room if you abort your geno run with his fight about how with his special attack "you surely would've been BLASTED to..." with blasted highlighted in yellow. yeah. safe to assume he has those too.

his paper with Toby's original concept art/details about him had a bit about him having a [REDACTED] named [REDACTED], right under another line that read "has a brother named comic sans". if we take this mysterious presumed relative to be gaster, then his connection to him becomes even stronger

papyrus has a negative reaction to the CORE specifically (he gets inexplicably sad when we call him and he can see it in the distance) but also hotland in general.

Gaster created the CORE and "fell into his own creation". from the way it's phrased, it's highly likely it WAS in fact the CORE, even if it's just vague enough i have my doubts

i really have no idea! I'm heavily inclined to think that the papyrus we meet in undertale is NOT from deltarune/the papyrus we'll meet there, while sans is the same person. this opens some pretty complicated questions to answer, especially from lack of evidence as we're still in chapter 2 out of 7 and we haven't met papyrus yet.

what happens to deltarune papyrus by the end of the game?

if papyrus is from undertale, what happened to UNDERTALE'S sans when deltarune's version got isekaid

exactly how long ago did all of this go down?

sans likely worked with gaster at some point after arriving in undertale, where they found out about the anomaly "our analysis" (which is mostly flowey's work after being resuscitated ie: not in deltarune. the "our" also couldn't have been alphys instead because she gives no indication of being aware of the SAVE powers, the anomaly or time manipulation—though she DID study alternate universes! and she knows sans! interesting coincidence). if so, how is gaster involved with the fate of deltarune NOW, when sans is still there? sure, he was shattered through TIME and space, but wouldn't that constitute a paradox? of course, unless we take "another Him" literally and this isn't the same gaster as the one from undertale

if we go "papyrus is gaster" instead, why does he respond to "papyrus" in deltarune too, why isn't he just gaster (and why does the name "gaster" still crash the game)?

all in all, i DON'T think we have enough material to work with, especially with papyrus. sans had his arc, his lore you could find and piece together with a satisfying conclusion ingame (think of the narrative payback that's finally reaching the workshop behind their house) while papyrus', while still being as much if not even More befuddling, was... all over the place. unexplained. incomplete. you can't piece back much of anything about his past. which is why i have SUPER high expectations for him in deltarune. he's clearly being built up for SomeThing,and i think it's going to be a lore arc just like sans had in undertale, all to himself, while his brother is off having his hotgirl customer service summer with the local goats and... presumably getting sucked into another universe. whoops!

here's a link to the crosstitch page comment, courtesy of @undertale-encyclopedia (you're a godsend to theorists everywhere, thank you so much)

if you're interested in the otherworld/deltarune sans theory, then i cannot recommend @megaderping 's two videos enough, which showcase both its proof AND the contradictions and issues it brings up (HERE'S the original, and HERE's an addendum after some discussion on the previous video). she gathers and mentions pretty much EVERYTHING that made me believe in it in the first place, AND the bits that make me doubt my interpretation of it, though surprisingly i DON'T think they touch on the blood business, which is curious because it's such a big controversy even now. i also owe them and their discord friends credit for the "papvalues" discoveries in deltarune's code, as my hacking and cracking skills are non-existent.

[hanniejji]

a moment in time

[ child!albedo x khaenri'an!y/n ]

summary: "painting is bringing forth life, to capture the moment," his guardian once said. albedo, too, wants to capture the moment he cherishes from his guardian.

note: i ended up not writing anything at vacation at all lmao :') neways reader is khaenri'an here and bedo's just a tiny new born homunculus | m.list

words: 540 | warnings: spoilers? not much, it's vague

eyes blue as the clear ocean watches as his guardian sketch across the canvas, coal leaving dark lines on the white surface and slowly forming the paradise that his guardian loves oh so much—wide field of grains, wild flowers dancing from the distance, tall trees that bordered the area, a windmill paused from its spinning, and a small cottage.

"master l/n," albedo quietly called out from his place beside his guardian.

"yes bedo?" they turn to the child, "i told you to stop calling me master, didn't i? i'm just your guardian, your master is out there doing who knows what and i couldn't care less, but please," they boop his nose gently, "call me y/n, alright?" a chuckle and a chase peck on his forehead got him flustered, still not used to affection from his guardian.

affection is an endearing action towards a loved one, someone you care for, someone you are fond of, he remembers them say when he asked the first time he received a pat on the head and his cheeks bloomed a pinkish hue and his heart—artificial as it is—felt warm and at ease.

"what are you painting, ma- y/n?"

the latter grinned at the mention of their name, albedo feeling somewhat happy at their beaming smile.

turning back towards the canvas, their smile softened into a nostalgic look, a flash of sadness that disappeared within a second, but albedo's young and perceptive eyes caught it.

did i say something wrong?

"it's from my homeland, little one. it's where i was born, grew up in, and left."

"why did you leave?"

"you're a curious one, aren't you?" they chuckled, softly patting the mop of ashen blond hair, "it just wasn't… safe anymore. it's not home anymore, little one. the place was lost to time."

"lost to time?" his guardian hummed, their eyes a little glossy from the memories of their home. albedo turns to the canvas, imagining the vibrant colors on the landscape of their home and picturing it in his mind. the calm breeze of the wind, the whistle of birds, the sound of humanity from the city nearby, his master and guardian's peaceful humming into the field of grain and the clear blue sky with white patches of cloud. he can imagine the movement of life in his mind, wondering what kind of place his guardian's home is like.

"is that why you paint? to capture and remember the moment?"

"precisely, little one. it's only a matter of time before our memories turn to dust," they set aside the coal, now gathering their paint and brushes, ready to bring their picture to life, "to paint, is to give birth. birth to life, to a memory, to something that is dear to you, to an emotion we want to bring forth."

albedo watches in awe, the white canvas slowly becoming life itself. this ignited something in albedo's heart, a desire that's unfamiliar to him.

albedo turns to the variety of brushes in the cup beside the easel, picking one and tugging on his guardian's shirt.

"can you teach me how to paint?"

someday, he hopes he'll be as good as his guardian and capture the moments that are dear to him.

[rendevousz]

freak

avengers x teen!fem!reader

summary: you get captured during a mission and the team saves you.

warnings: language, violence, brief misogyny, torture, **NO sexual assault (because as i was proofreading, i only implied most of the torture scenes because i didn't want to write it in graphic detail and i realised the vague wordings might be misinterpreted as sexual assault which IT IS NOT, just clearing it up), and also again, my inability to write good endings

word count: 4589

notes: i just rewatched iron man 2 so that explains justin hammer LMAO also ooc justin hammer because even tho mans evil, he gets extremely um.. cruel here but anyways i hope you enjoy this!!

you were 13 when you first met the avengers and 16 when you officially joined. you grew up as one of HYDRA's experimented children and the team had found you when they raided the base that you were in.

a small, sickly-looking kid you were, sat against your cell wall, hugging your knees. 13 but you could probably pass off as a 10 year old due to how malnourished and miserable you were. burying your head in between your knees, you covered your ears as the loud gunshot noises filled the whole place. the metal door of your cell slamming open against the wall had you whimpering, hands above your head in fear.

every time the door slammed open, guards would come drag you out for more experiments so it was an instinct for you to cower in fear at the sound.

"last room in the west hall, i found a little girl."

you heard nothing because you were covering your ears, preparing yourself to be forcefully dragged by the guards to the experiment room. but it never came.

"hey," a soft voice called. you were violently shaking at this point, breathing heavily as you tried to calm down. "hey, it's okay." the voice called out again and you felt them touch your shoulders.

your head immediately jolted up, flinching away from the stranger's touch. your eyes met a blue pair as you backed away into the corner in fear. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to." the man apologised. you slowly looked up at him, observing him. he had on a full black outfit, a quiver of arrows slinging on his shoulder and he was holding onto a bow.

"don't be scared. i'm here to help," he states with his hands out, as if to calm you down. "that's what they all say." you hissed through gritted teeth and a tear-stained face, glaring at him even though that could've been a very wrong move had it been with an actual HYDRA guard.

despite the strange feeling of being safe around this man, you didn't let your guard down. that's exactly what those scientists said seven years ago. trusting kind-looking men got you into this hell you never thought you would ever escape from and you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"clint," a red-headed female, also in all black, entered through the open door of your cell with her pistol up. at the sight of the weapon, you broke your glare towards the man. your breathing quickened and you went back to your original position before the archer came; body pressed up against your knees and covering your ears with your palms.

"i'm sorry! i'm sorry! i'll come! please don't use that on me again," you whimpered, voice muffled as your face was hidden against your knees. the woman freezes mid-walk, looking at her friend with a bewildered expression.

"nat! put that away!" clint whispered harshly, eyes glaring at the pistol in nat's hands. nat's jaw dropped in realisation, a small gasp leaving her lips as she immediately put away her weapon.

she slowly makes her way to you and clint puts his arm out before she could get closer. he looks at her with a worried expression as he shook his head, as if telling her that she can't get too close to you. nat nods understandingly, crouching down a distance from you.

"hey," she spoke softly. "i promise you that we're not here to hurt you." you kept your face hidden from her, still hugging your legs tightly. nat sighs before sitting down.

"here, let's introduce ourselves. i'm nat and this right here is clint." you hear her speak and when you slowly lifted up your head, you saw the both of them sitting down in front of you, seeming to have made themselves at home in your pathetic cell. "what's your name?"

name? you had never been able to use your name before. you always kept your own name deep in your heart despite no one ever using it, afraid you would forget it if you stopped thinking of it. the only name they ever called you here was 'number five'.

"y/n," you whispered, still doubtful about these people's intentions. you almost burst out crying when you said your name out loud. that was the first time you introduced yourself with your actual name and not the number you were given ever since you were captured.

nat must have noticed this because she immediately spoke up, trying to distract you from your consuming thoughts. "y/n...that's a pretty name for a pretty girl like you. how old are you, y/n?" she asks again.

you contemplated once more but decided it was fine. you knew you were probably going to regret trusting these two strangers but what could be worse than what HYDRA has been doing to you for years?

"13," you muttered, looking down at your lap. you were now timidly seated cross-legged, playing with the tattered hem of your shorts. you heard a small gasp from one of them and looked up to see clint with his jaw dropped.

the two adults were both thinking of the same thing. how could you be 13? you were so small and sickly-looking, they didn't even think you were older than ten, let alone an early teen.

"i know you're scared and you have all the reasons in the world to be, but i promise you, we're here to help. we'll get you out of here, only if you trust us. will you trust us?" nat says. your mind was conflicted. you were either going to finally get out of this hellhole or you were going to be taken somewhere even worse than here. but could anywhere really be worse than here?

you decided to take a leap of faith and trust these two strangers. that decision had to have been the best decision you've ever made in your life.

you were now 18, an official avenger and you had the most amazing family you could've ever asked for. they were a bit on the crazier side but could you really have a normal family when said family consisted of superheroes? but you weren't complaining. you loved these people.

they were the ones who took care of you when you thought you had no one. having been a HYDRA experiment, you had abilities the normal human didn't. said ability being shapeshifting and healing. that's why you became an avenger. your shapeshifting ability was essential during missions where you had to sneak in and you being able to heal others was crucial when medic wasn't able to be there on time.

you pretty much came along to every mission despite the adults saying you don't have to. you knew they were only doing that to protect you from dangers of all those missions but how could you not when you had such abilities? they'd be much better with you helping.

that was why you were here, in bulgaria, fighting alongside the team. well, just steve, nat, clint, bucky and tony.

justin hammer had managed to get his hands on a type of out-of-this-planet weapon that tony was also trying to retrieve, and he had big plans with it. hence why the avengers had to come where hammer had wrecked havoc in; sofia, bulgaria. he had upgraded his robots with the tech used for the stolen weapon.

with evil robots attacking the whole city, it felt like you were living the story that wanda told you of what happened in sokovia before you met the avengers.

an hour passed before all of the robots had finally been taken down and you all knew you had to get to hammer before he activates more robots to distract you guys and uses the weapon for bad things.

"tony, have you located hammer?" steve's voice sounded in your ear through the comms. you had just finished healing the nasty gash on clint's side, nat's cut on her forehead and the bruises all over bucky. you were feeling significantly weaker now, from the amount of healing you did. you stumbled slightly when you walked and bucky immediately held onto your arm. "doll, are you okay?"

"i'm fine, buck. nothing i haven't dealt with before," you told him, gently removing his grip on your arm, walking back to the quinjet.

-

"no, absolutely not. we are not sending y/n right into a death trap. she's not even strong enough right now, she just finished healing us."

you were all back at the compound now and planning a second attack on justin hammer.

"it's not a death trap, buck. and i know you're worried but she's the only choice we got. y/n, all you gotta do is sneak in as one of his henchmen and provide entrance for us. once we get in, we'll take all his guards down and get that weapon from hammer and we won't have to worry about his world domination plans anymore. it'll be over as soon as it starts and she'll be back safe with us. sound good, y/n/n?"

"yeah, sure." you agreed, already having a person in mind that you were going to change yourself to.

-

the plan had gone just as steve wanted and they managed to raid justin hammer's building, tony stealing the very item that could've aided in the massacre of millions. justin and his henchmen managed to escape the building before the avengers could catch them.

"well, that was anticlimactic," tony scoffs, already making his way to the quinjet. "but good job, y/n. you saved the day once again."

he expected to hear a laugh from you, like you usually did, being the only one who ever responds to him after missions. but instead he was met with silence. "kid?" still no answer.

"y/n, where are you?" steve panicked, finally realising that you were the only one who hasn't responded in a hot minute. "y/n/n, this isn't funny." he breathed out.

"she's...she's gone."

-

"well, well, well," a voice spoke right as you woke up from your slumber. you squinted, noticing that you were in some sort of dark room with only one light bulb right above you. "what do we have here?"

a figure walks right in the light and you could barely make out justin hammer's ugly face with how dizzy you felt. "if it isn't the little freak." he states condescendingly, smirking down at your helpless position, both wrists and ankles cuffed onto the metal chair you were sat on. you struggled against the restraints, trying to get free but to no avail.

your breathing quickened, your current vulnerable state reminding you of your later years in HYDRA. they had started off experimenting on you on a metal gurney but as you grew older, you realised that what they were doing to you was bad so you started fighting back. that ended you up on a metal restraint chair instead of the gurney, strapped to the chair with cuffs on your wrists and ankles.

this felt like deja vu. the same panic you felt, the same breathing difficulties, the same amount of effort put into trying to get out of the restraints. "you should know, princess, that that doesn't work." hammer chuckled, a fake pout on his lips as he crouched in front of you, a rough hand on your cheek. you instinctively jerked away from his touch, to which he paid no mind to because he had expected that. he then grabbed your chin harshly, turning your head up towards him. you glared at him.

"you think i didn't know what you did? snuck in as one of my men using your freaky powers? not to mention useless. imagine having powers but not being able to use them to even escape from mere humans," he laughs in your face, harshly letting go of your chin, throwing your head backwards. "you tell me where stark planned to bring the weapon and i'll let you pretty little thing go."

"no."

before you could even comprehend, his fist came flying at your face and your head dropped to the side at the impact. your left cheekbone was throbbing and you could already tell you were gonna have a black eye. despite the pain, it wasn't something you weren't used to. you were an avenger, after all. getting decked in the face was practically in the contract.

he grabbed your chin once again, pulling your head upwards to face him. "you're gonna tell me where it is or i'm gonna make you regret it."

you looked up at him with a bored look. he punched you again. and again. and again. until you could taste the blood on your tongue. "think you wanna tell me now, sweetheart?"

"never. not to someone like you."

the man seemed to get a kick out of beating you up because he punched you again in the face. your whole face was pretty much numb now and the metallic taste in your mouth intensified. you smirked at the man before you, chuckling darkly.

"sure, beat up the helpless girl. that's the only way you can beat me, right? when i'm all tied up? what a man,"

his hand was around your throat within a second and he forced you to look him in the eyes again. "sweetheart, you're a girl. tied or not, you're still weak. not even with that useless power of yours."

taking advantage of how close his face was to yours, you gathered as much bloody saliva in your mouth before spitting it in his face.

it was very much the wrong thing to do because after he wiped off his face, he left the room and two men came in, various tools in hand for their fun with you.

-

"stark! my buddy! how's it going?" justin hammer's face appeared on the screen in the conference room, where the avengers were having a meeting about your possible whereabouts.

"where is she?!" wanda growled, standing up abruptly.

"what ever do you mean?" hammer smirked, feigning innocence. "you know what we mean. where is she?" steve spoke authoritatively, trying to control his anger at the sight of the man's face.

"i'll tell you where your thing is if you tell me where my thing is." he smiled wickedly. this caused wanda to get angrier. "y/n is not a thing! and the weapon was never yours in the first place!" vision held onto her to calm her down and it worked because she sat back down, though still glaring at the screen.

"oh she's not a thing? seems like it to me, though." he smirked and the team frowned, not understanding what he meant until they heard screams and justin's smirk widening at the sound. what a sick bastard. "what are you doing to her?!" bucky screamed, knocking his chair back as he stood up.

"i don't know, you tell me." he chuckles, and the screen changes to the live footage of you in the restraint chair with the two men in the room.

you were no longer fighting back now, just sat limply with your head dropped to the side. the first hour with them, you had been fighting back like you did with justin, despite the restraints, but now entering the second hour, you were too exhausted for anything.

your left eye had been swollen shut, you could barely breathe through your nose, your cheeks were throbbing like hell and your bottom lip was busted. your head was the only thing that moved freely when hit so the men seemed to find satisfaction the most when they punched you in the face. though that didn't stop them from inflicting pain on other parts of you.

"let her go, she's just a kid!" sam exclaimed, his grip on the edge of the table tightening to control his anger. peter and wanda were crying looking at the awful state you were in, clint, tony and bruce were silent in shock, steve and bucky were getting increasingly angry as the abuse continued.

"are you going to tell us where stark is keeping the weapon or have you not gotten enough?" one of the two men was heard asking, pulling your hair back to make you look up at him. you look at with your half-opened right eye, breathing heavily. "my answer's never gonna change no matter how many times you ask."

he scoffs, stepping back before the other man swings a bat right at your stomach. the air was immediately knocked out of your lung. the men laughed as you coughed up blood profusely. this caused wanda to get more hysterical.

"well, looks like she wants more. i'll call back when she's had enough. toodles," he waves his fingers at the camera with a sinister smirk before abruptly ending the call.

the room went silent after the call, save for bucky and sam breathing heavily from the anger they felt. bucky then turned to steve, pain could be seen on his face. "you said she would be safe."

"i–i'm sorry, buck. i didn't know he was gonna take her with him." steve was still frozen in shock, the image of you on the chair now permanently ingrained in his brain. in everyone's brains actually.

"guys, gear up, he's in colorado."

all heads turned towards natasha and she looked back at them with a 'what?' expression. "you were tracking him down the whole time?"

"um, duh? now come on, gotta save our girl."

-

you awoke to a stinging sensation on your inner forearm. after your bloody coughing fit, they proceeded to beat you up again and you were knocked out then. now you were slowly regaining consciousness but you were starting to prefer being passed out. your whole body was in pain and the fact that you couldn't even move made it even worse.

"oh, lookie here. sleeping beauty is up." you were met once again with justin hammer's ugly face. he was sitting on a chair perpendicular to your left side. you couldn't wait to get out of here so you didn't have to keep seeing his face every time you woke up. your inner forearm was stinging even more now so you looked down at it. you gasped at the sight.

"how'd you like my artwork?" he chuckled at your reaction. there on your arm, obviously carved out with the bloody knife that the asshole was so proudly holding on to, was 'FREAK'. carved out big and bold. on your skin. "pretty fitting, eh? freak? because, you know, that's what you are."

the blood was seeping out through the cuts and it stung even more now that it had been exposed to the air. the asshole moved his chair to your other side. "what should i write on this arm?" he feigns a thinking expression, looking up thoughtfully with his thumb and pointer finger on his chin.

"please, i–i don't know where tony put it. i really don't." you cried, tears now flowing freely down your face without a shame.

he looks at you with amusement. "what is this? are you...are you giving up already? can't take anymore?" he smirks and you sigh, closing your eyes. you just awoke but you were exhausted. so, so exhausted.

he takes out his phone, the smirk now permanent on his ugly face. "stark! kid's finally had enough. wanna tell me where the weapon is now or do you want to find her body at the bottom of the ocean?"

you couldn't even be bothered to react to his statement. the pain all finally registered and you were tired. tired and in excruciating pain.

"kinda busy right now, can you call back later?" you could hear tony's voice sound from justin's phone and the man beside you laughed. "i see you don't care for the girl. what could possibly be more important than saving her?"

"i don't know, you tell me." a voice said from behind you two and before you knew it, hammer was knocked off the chair he was on. you weakly turned your head just in time to see a metal arm force hammer up onto his feet before wrapping around his neck. "don't you fucking touch her again."

"y/n!" you heard wanda's voice as she entered the room with peter. more tears flowed down your face at the sight of them, stinging when they rolled past the cuts on your face but that didn't matter. your family was finally here to save you.

you saw the red mist of wanda's powers surround your cuffs before they clicked open. "oh, bubs, i'm so sorry." she cried, both hands hovering around your face, hesitating to touch you in fear of hurting you. her eyes fell onto the words carved out onto your skin and her mouth fell open before covering it with her hand. "i'm so sorry we couldn't get to you sooner." peter's voice cracked and you could tell he was emotional.

"it's okay," you told them, giving them a small smile, the biggest one you could give in your current state.

tony, sam and steve entered the room to see bucky relentlessly beating up your captor and wanda and peter standing by you as you cried.

"cupcake, we're here now. don't cry, you're safe now." tony came closer and despite knowing that you were because your family was finally here, you couldn't help but let out all the pent up emotions you've kept throughout your time of captivity.

sam had a go at justin once bucky was done and steve had to physically pry them both off of the sick bastard so that nat could cuff him and bring him back to the jet.

"y/n/n, i'm so sorry. if i hadn't–"

"it's okay, stevie." you cut him off. truthfully, you only did so because you knew he was going to giving a long-winded explanation justifying his actions and your headache couldn't bear to hear lengthy sentences. but you also didn't think it was in any way his fault so he didn't deserve to be beating himself up for this. shit happens, anyway.

"let's get you out of here, doll." bucky says, cringing when he sees the blood on the floor of your chair, as well as on your clothes. he quickly reaches to lift you off the chair but stops when you let out an ear-piercing scream of pain. "doll, i'm so sorry! did i hurt you?!" bucky questions in panic.

"y–you didn't, they did. it...it hurts everywhere," you cried, feeling hopeless that you couldn't even bear being carried by someone, let alone get up by yourself. their hearts broke when you said that. you never really cried much in front of them and you were known to withstand pain well because of how much shit HYDRA put you in as well as your powers being healing, meaning you had a higher pain tolerance than most people.

"it's okay, bubs. i got you. let's get you home, alright?" wanda's calming voice broke you out of your breakdown and red mist surrounded your whole body, wanda moving you with her powers. you were thankful of that because it didn't cause any more pain to your body.

maybe hammer was right. maybe you are just a freak with useless powers. wanda floated you into the jet and she set you down on the bed. "y/n, oh my god!" clint cried out once he sees you. you looked much worse than you did on hammer's camera footage during the call an hour ago. "kid, i'm so sorry."

"clint, take the wheel. bruce doesn't have all the resources needed. she needs to be treated ASAP." nat tells her best friend and he nods, taking the wheel and immediately taking off once everyone had boarded.

you were laid on the bed, right eye slightly open as bruce examined you. exhaustion hit you like a truck and before you knew it, you blacked out.

-

"how is she, doc?"

"pretty banged up but y/n, as i already knew, is a strong girl. lots of internal bleeding, broken bones, bruises and scars but she'll be fine. you can check her file later if you want," doctor cho tells tony outside of your room. "it's fine, can we see her?" he asks on behalf of the whole team standing behind him.

"yeah, of course! she woke up five minutes ago. i'll be off now, call me or my team if you need anything." she bids goodbye and left the group of superheroes.

steve slowly opens the door and there you were in bed, staring up at the ceiling. "hey, y/n/n," he greets sheepishly, feeling as though he had interrupted your alone time of blankly staring at the ceiling. the team trailed in behind him and soon your bed was surrounded by the avengers.

"hi, cupcake."

you looked away from the ceiling and turned your head towards tony. "oh, hey tones." you smile as sam helps you sit up while the rest sat on chairs all around you. "how you feeling, bub?" nat asks, eyes flickering down to the bold scarring of letters on your forearm.

"as okay as i can be." you answered truthfully, pressing your inner forearm closer to your body so the team doesn't see the letters carved onto your skin. you already know what you are, you didn't need the rest thinking so too.

"you're not a freak, bubs."

you look up at wanda. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to read your mind. but they were awfully loud. you're not a freak, y/n. and you're not useless too. that bastard may have carved out that word onto your skin but the scar will fade. it's not permanent. you know why? because that's not what you are." she tells you, taking off her jacket to wrap it around you because you felt self conscious of the scars all over your arms where the team could see.

"yeah, doll. you're an amazing person and your powers help us so much. i mean, you saved millions just helping us get the weapon back from justin hammer. if you hadn't, well, who knows what could've been happening right now?" he places a gentle hand at the side of your head, stroking your hair.

"yeah and who heals us when we get really hurt during missions, huh? i mean, if you hadn't healed that stab wound i got during that mission in new mexico, i probably wouldn't even be here at this moment." clint tells you and you roll your eyes at him. "you're exaggerating."

"i am not!" he laughed and you playfully rolled your eyes once again.

"y/n/n, i'm really sorry for—"

"i don't wanna hear it, stevie."

"but–"

"no. it's not your fault. shit happens." you brush him off. "lang–"

"you say language to me, i'll blame this shit on you even when it's not your fault. try me, rogers." you glare at the blond super soldier. he raises his arms in surrender, leaning back on his chair as the team laughs.

the team continue to entertain you and you couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of you. these were the people who would drop anything for you and were willing to dropkick any asshole in the face for hurting you. justin hammer never had a chance against your family to begin with.

taglist <3

@amourtentiaa @rqmanoff @abitofeverythinggg

[outerbankies]

arm’s length — rafe cameron

request: “You made these cupcakes for me?” + “You don’t need to leave so soon.” with Rafe please :)

pairing: rafe x kook!reader

warnings: alcohol, drugs, swearing

a/n: just a short and sweet one besties! i was trying to decide when to make rafe's birthday and i picked end of summer just for the plot, which makes him either a leo or a virgo lmao. thanks for the request anon :)

my writing

Growing up with Rafe Cameron meant a lot of things. It meant summer vacations at the Camerons’ Bahamas villa and winter breaks at your parents’ cabin in Telluride. It meant you always had a built-in date to Midsummers, prom, and homecoming whenever you two didn't want to put in the effort of finding proper dates. It meant sneaking out of fancy family dinner parties to smoke joints on the roof together and complain about how hard it was to be a rich kid sometimes. It meant you always had someone to pretend to be your boyfriend when you were done being hit on by tourons, and it also meant you were usually on call to pick up Rafe when he got too drunk. Growing up with Rafe meant keeping secrets for each other, being there for each other, and a mutual understanding for most things about growing up on Figure 8.

But it didn’t mean you had to like Rafe. Not all the time.

And as you maneuver through the sea of G-Wagons, Range Rovers and convertibles packed into your driveway, overflow from the Cameron residence across the street, that last part rang true.

“Gonna kick his ass,” you mutter to yourself, dodging tipsy blonde girls in bikinis and ignoring your classmates that wave 'hi' to you. Your hands were starting to sweat where they held the disposable tin in your hands, trying your best to hang onto them as you fought your way through the crowd.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” you ask some random group of girls, who scoff over your less than party-ready attire, pointing you vaguely in the direction of the kitchen.

“Is that Y/n?” someone calls, and you huff out a breath of air, painting on your fakest smile as you enter the kitchen. Smack dab in the center of the raucous group of board short clad boys is your friend Rafe Cameron, cheeks flushed red, same backwards cap on his head as usual at these things.

“Y/n, you came!” he greets, immediately parting the sea of his friends to come and hug you. You push him off with a hand to his abs so he doesn’t squish the tin of cupcakes, feeling his muscles jump under your touch. He looks down, eyes lighting up in childlike wonder. “You made these cupcakes for me?”

“Cupcakes?” Kelce interrupts, taking the tray out of your hands and cracking the top off. “Do they have weed in them?”

“Nope... no, just cupcakes, Kelce,” your eyes widen. He rolls his eyes but grabs one anyways, the other boys in the kitchen following suit then quickly exiting, leaving you alone in the kitchen with Rafe and an empty cupcake tin.

“These are so good. You outdid yourself this year, Y/n/n.”

“You can thank Charlotte. Wheezie told her it was your birthday and she begged me to help her make them for you. But then she got shy and made me bring them here by myself.”

He laughs out loud at that. “That’s so sweet.”

“I’ll let her know you said that,” you smile despite yourself at the fond expression on his face. “And next time you decide to make my driveway overflow parking, can you let me know so I can get my car out first?”

He blushes, finishing the rest of his cupcake and throwing the wrapper back in the tin. “Sorry, Y/n/n. I knew you wouldn’t come on your own. Thought I might make it so you can't do anything beyond walking distance.”

“Charming. I have to babysit on the Cut today, Rafe. You knew that,” you say, pushing him on the arm. He let's you push him, trying not to look guilty. “Could you just tell a couple of them to back out?”

“Mmm,” he looks behind your shoulder, assessing the crowd in his living room and backyard. “That’s probably not safe. Just take my truck.”

You hold your hand out for his keys, and he looks at you in confusion.

“What, right now? You don’t need to leave so soon, do you?”

“Rafe, I told you I had work.”

“No you just hate me,” he pouts, already leading you up to his room where you know his truck keys are. You used to be intimidated driving the huge vehicle, but at this point, you’d driven it so many times. Your favorite thing to do was to “forget” to adjust the seat and wheel back to their normal positions, giggling every time Rafe texted you that he hit his head and his knee trying to get in his truck after you drove it. You were still the only one who he let drive his car, after he rode with you the first few times, of course.

“I just made you cupcakes.”

“Yeah, because of Charlotte,” he grumbles, opening the door to his bedroom. “Maybe I should’ve invited her instead.”

“She’s a minor.”

“Yeah, didn’t think that one through,” he winces, shaking his head.

You stand at the doorway of his room, watching him walk over to his desk to grab them for you. He acts like he's going to toss them, then snatches them out of your reach as soon as you go to grab them.

“Do you have to go? It’s my birthday,” he whines.

“Rafe,” you sigh in exasperation. “I told you I couldn’t stay. I can come back in a few hours if you’re still conscious.”

He doesn't look satisfied, like he'd pulled out all the stops and you were still going to leave him. “Bet you would’ve changed your plans for that stupid touron though.”

You freeze, settling back from where you were standing on your tippy-toes to grab his keys. “What?”

“Nothing, forget it,” he says, folding the keys into your hands. He tries to brush past you but you stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Are you talking about Micah?”

“Is that his name?”

“He went back to Florida like two weeks ago.”

Rafe looks confused, readjusting his hat on his head and stuttering, “Well, did you guys, like—are you...”

“He’s a touron, Rafe, fun for one summer and that’s it. We weren’t even dating.”

“Oh.”

With that you turn on your heel, walking back downstairs and toward the front door. He’s following right behind you, not stopping once you open his front door and start looking for his truck. He’d parked it on the street—which he never does—so it could be easily moved if needed. Nothing like your car, which would require at least five other cars to move if you wanted to leave. You have to wonder.

“Sorry about that, Y/n/n,” Rafe says, reminding you that you were talking about your summer fling. Rafe and Micah had never gotten along, and you hadn’t seen your friend that much this summer because of it. He could be such a hot head, fighting pogues and tourons over literally anything.

You didn't need to deal with that when you were just trying to distract yourself with a cute boy that had a huge vacation house far, far away from Rafe and all of your feelings for him.

“No, you’re not,” you laugh, accepting his hand as he helps you step into the tall truck. He gives you a deadpan look when he sees you immediately adjust the seat and the steering wheel, shutting the door once you're all tucked in. “Not my fault you’re what, 6’2?”

“You know I hit 6’3 sophomore year. Promise you’ll come back?” He’s practically pouting where he leans into the driver’s side window.

“I suppose,” you sigh.

“Good. Because you’re right. I’m not.”

“You’re not what?” you say, turning the keys in the ignition. You have to immediately turn down the obnoxious rock station he’d had on full blast, plugging in your phone to play your own songs.

“I’m not sorry about Micah.”

You immediately look up from where you’re scrolling through Spotify. He’s got the faintest smirk on his face and you have to roll your eyes, pushing him on his chest until he gets off of the car. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

“I’ll save some Trulies just for you, don’t worry pretty girl.”

He says it as he walks back towards his house, not stepping back inside until he watches you leave. You have to stop yourself from playing love songs the entire ride over.