#sorry for anyone who liked this before my endless editing

[arienotari]

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 

I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 2

Holy shit, guys. I have never had such a response to a story before. Thank you guys so much.

Tag list of 50 has now been filled. Any other requests for tagging will be denied. I’m sorry.

Edit: Also if you saw the title as something else? No, no you didn’t. And any reblogs you see with anyone instead of anybody are a figment of your imagination. (*thuds head on laptop* I have the title right on here...in my file *wails*)

Part 1

*

The next morning Eddie got up for school excited for the first time. He had a mystery to solve and his name was Steven Harrington. Probably the third or whatever shit rich people got to with naming their kids. He rummaged through his closet looking for his favorite band tee. But he stopped when he found an old shoe box down at the bottom.

Eddie frowned and pulled it out. It was a bunch of pictures of Eddie when he first came to live with his uncle, Wayne. He looked at the shaved head and bruised face.

His dad had taken one look at Eddie that morning and decided his hair was too long. He had grabbed Eddie by the hair and dragged him into the bathroom and shaved his head. The bruises to the face were from Eddie trying to escape.

Eddie had suffered a concussion and it was then the state had taken notice. They had packed up his stuff while he was in the hospital in a big black garbage bag and told him he would be going home to his Uncle Wayne. In Indiana. So far from the life he knew. But it meant being safe from his dad and that was a plus in Eddie’s book.

It’s how he knew what Steve was going through. Maybe not exactly the same. But he knew concussions and knew they were a bad business.

He put the pictures back in the box and tucked it under his bed. Maybe he didn’t need to know why Steve was hurting. Maybe it was enough to understand. He pulled on his second favorite band tee and his jacket. He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door.

*

Eddie bit his lip. He didn’t have any classes with Steve today and wasn’t able to check up on him. He was tempted to break into the office and pull Steve’s schedule. But that would get him detention and he was still trying to keep his promise to his uncle.

How was he going to do this?

And then the answer literally dropped in his lap. A book was thrown at him by someone. He picked it up and looked at the cover. It was some old homework journal was about to throw it away when a piece of paper fluttered to the ground.

Frowning he picked it up. By some miracle it was Steve’s schedule. He looked up to see if he could see who threw it at him. But it could have been anyone. A lot of people were avoiding his eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. They bought from him and now they can’t look him in the eye because he knows. They want to buy weed and don’t know how to broach it. They think he’s a freak. They have a crush on him. You know, the possibilities were endless.

But at least he knew things he didn’t before. Like holy hell, the kid did a lot of sports. He looked at baseball and swimming and basketball with his mind whirling around in his head. How did he keep all the rules straight?

Math third period Eddie knew. History was Steve’s first period. Which was probably how his messed up brain managed to spew that information at Eddie yesterday. Baseball was seventh. Basketball his eighth. Swimming was second. English fourth. Art was sixth. Art, huh? That was intriguing. Probably thought it was an easy elective. And chemistry was fifth. So it looked something like this.

Odd 1-History 3- Math 5- Chemistry lunch 7- Baseball

Even 2-Swimming 4-English 6-Art lunch 8-Basketball

Huh. Eddie never noticed, but Steve was always in his lunch period. That was certainly interesting. He wondered what Mrs Hall, the guidance counselor would do about all his sports now that he couldn’t play anymore. He supposed swimming was still fine, nothing to hit you in that. But baseball and basketball were definitely out.

Eddie chewed on his lip. The sports weren’t going to get Eddie closer to finding out what happened to Steve. They would close ranks so fast. At least Steve and him had lunch together so that would at least make it easier befriend the guy.

Art, though. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. He had art in his fifth period. He could doing some snooping there. After all art is where true expression lies. And if there was anything going on it would show in his art.

The start of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. Yeah. This could work.

*

At lunch, Eddie slid in next to Steve as soon as he sat down.

“What’s on the menu today, Harrington?” he asked grinning.

Steve looked up at him in shock again. “Um...applesauce and plain toast, with a can of ginger ale.”

Eddie winced. “Still feeling the nausea?”

Steve nodded. “I’m starting to wonder if it’s ever going away.”

“It’ll stick around for about a week,” Eddie said softly.

Steve frowned. “How would you know that?”

“How don’t you know that?” Eddie fired back. “This is your second concussion.”

“Didn’t go to the doctor either time,” Steve mumbled.

“You want to run that past me again, Harrington?” Eddie asked.

“Doctors mean having to call my parents,” Steve explained, “calling my parents means that they’ll have to come back from their trip, coming back from their trip means I get into trouble, getting into trouble is not good for a concussion, so I don’t.”

“Why would you get into trouble for having a concussion?” Eddie asked, furrowing his brow.

Steve started counting it out on his fingers. “Getting into a fight. Hanging out with black people and by extension, siding with said black person. Having to drop out of sports. Watching my grades plummet. Not speaking to Tommy and Carol. I can keep going if you’d like...”

Eddie shook his head. “Holy shit, dude. I didn’t think I’d see a shittier dad then my own, but yours and your mom take the cake.”

Steve looked down at his applesauce mournfully. “It’s not that bad. At least my dad doesn’t hit me like Tommy’s dad does.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. “Are all rich dads douchebags?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Look, I’ve got to eat my own lunch,” Eddie said slapping the table and standing up, “but if you need anything come find me.”

Steve nodded, but Eddie didn’t think he would take him up on it.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17 Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites

[mintsbubbletea]

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨 - 𝐌𝐢 𝐂𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐨

Word Count: 1,455

Contains: Gender Neutral Reader, cursing, fluff at the end.

Proof Read and Edited

A/n: Reader has a plant quirk, I really love plants so I had to use it with my fav boy <3 Mi Cielo means my sky

Part 2

Many people were taken aback when Mr. Aizawa revealed that someone in the class had a Plant quirk. They all looked around, expecting someone with green vines for hair like Shiozaki. But to their surprise, it was you. You didn't fit their expectations at all. With your H/C hair and reserved demeanor, you didn't act like the typical plant-based quirk user. You were more focused on your studies and hero work, not caring about what others thought.

Some might assume that your introverted nature was a result of your parents' lack of affection. However, that couldn't be further from the truth. Your parents were incredibly loving and affectionate, always coming to your room to hug you and share stories about their day. They acted exactly how parents should, and you loved them dearly. But as you grew older, you developed your own opinions and preferences. You didn't want to be touched or show affection to others. Thankfully, your parents understood and respected your boundaries.

Instead of physical affection, you expressed your love by surrounding their house with beautiful plants. You created a lovely garden in the back where they enjoyed their breakfast, and filled the living room with vibrant greenery. Your earthy and down-to-earth touch mirrored their own personalities, and they adored that about you. Your mother, who also had a plant-based quirk, encouraged this as a way for you to show your love. Sometimes, in return for their understanding, you would give them a heartfelt hug.

You couldn't help but fall for Sero, even though you never spoke to anyone in class. Your quietness allowed you to observe him closely, noticing his kindness, his great friendships, and his outgoing nature - all of which caught your eye. However, you couldn't shake the thought that school is meant for education, not for falling in love with a cute boy who has tape coming from his elbows. You felt lost and unsure of what to do, especially since you weren't close to anyone at UA, and telling your parents would only lead to endless teasing.

So, you decided to do something that felt right. You made him plants that reminded you of him. Arriving a few minutes early to class, you pulled out a small succulent from your bag and carefully placed it on Sero's desk. Quickly returning to your seat, the rest of the class entered. "Hey, what's this?" Sero exclaimed, capturing the attention of his friends. "A fucking plant?" Bakugo chimed in. Sero picked up the handmade pot and examined the little plant in his hands. "Yeah, it looks healthy," he said with a smile. "I wonder who put it here," Denki pondered aloud before taking his seat. "Doesn't Y/n grow plants?" Mina questioned. All eyes turned towards you, causing you to freeze as you just opened your bag.

"Nah, they hardly ever talk to us, let alone Sero," Kirishima remarked, causing everyone to turn their gaze towards you. You snapped your head in their direction, a tinge of annoyance evident in your voice as you asked, "Can I help you with something?" Tilting your head slightly, you watched as their expressions froze. "N-nothing! Sorry, Y/n," Kirishima quickly apologized, but Denki interrupted him. "Did you give Sero this plant or not?" he questioned, snatching the pot from Sero's grasp. "Uh, no. Why would I do that?" you scoffed, a hint of sarcasm lacing your words. "Just because I can grow plants doesn't mean I'll do it for all of you," you rolled your eyes before turning away from them. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of disappointment in Sero's eyes, but you didn't pay it much mind.

The following day, you repeated the same action, except this time, you filled the pot with marigolds, one of Sero's favorite flowers, or so you had overheard. As you settled back into your seat, they all entered the room. "Again?" Mina questioned, while you noticed Sero's eyes widen. "No way?" he exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face as he practically sprinted towards the pot. "It's just a flower, flatface," Bakugo remarked dismissively as he took his seat. "It's a Marigold, my favorite among them all," Sero spoke gently, his fingers caressing the delicate petals. "Hey, little one," he whispered, and in that moment, your heart melted. The way he treated the flowers with reverence and spoke to them, acknowledging that all living nature had feelings, only made you fall for him even more. You turned your head to the side, hiding your flushed face. "Are you alright, Y/n? Your face is turning red-" Before Deku could finish his sentence, you swiftly used your quirk, shooting out vines to cover his mouth. "Shut it," you hissed, glancing back at Bakusquad to ensure they hadn't heard you or Deku. Letting out a sigh, you released him. "Sorry," you said coldly, averting your gaze and capturing the attention of Dekusquad as they exchanged curious glances.

Throughout the week, you delighted in placing a new plant on his desk each day, each one a reminder of Sero. It was impossible to resist the joy of witnessing his reaction and the growing curiosity of your classmates about the flowers he would receive. Today, you hurriedly entered the classroom and carefully set down a Lapageria, a plant you had only read about and seen pictures of. As you placed the pot on the desk, a sudden movement caught you off guard - white tape swiftly wrapped around you. "I knew it!" you heard a voice exclaim. Frozen in place, you found yourself face to face with Sero, a mischievous smirk on his face as his tape held you tightly. "Let me go, Sero," you snapped, determined to maintain your composure. "And why would I do that to my secret admirer?" he teased, inching closer to your face. "Who said I gave you all those flowers?" you spat, struggling to break free from his grip. "I simply walked in and the flowers happened to be there." You glared at him, boldly lying to his face. "I think you're lying~" he smiled, his confidence unwavering. "You can stop pretending now, Y/n. I know it's you."

You let out a defeated sigh, finally giving up the struggle. "Fine, it was," you said, averting your gaze. "I only knew it was you because you were the only person around when I mentioned liking marigolds." Your mouth formed an 'o' shape as you recalled that the Bakusquad was in the lounge area with Sero when he mentioned it, while you were alone in the kitchen. You tried to speak up, but all that came out was a squeak, leaving you speechless. Your face turned red as Sero laughed at your reaction. "I appreciate it, Y/n. I loved coming to school every day to see what kind of plant you grew for me. It made my day," he said softly. Finally gathering the courage, you looked back at him and spoke with a gentle smile, "I'm glad you liked them. These plants are like my babies, and I don't usually give them away without knowing if the person will take care of them." You paused for a moment before continuing, "And seeing you talk to them, acknowledging that they have feelings like we do, made me realize that you are the right person." You quickly shook your head, correcting yourself, "I mean, the right person to take care of the plants, not necessarily the right person for me. Although, I do like you and you kind of are the right person for me, but-" Sero interrupted you, placing a finger on your lips. "I understand what you mean," he chuckled, releasing you from his tape. "But I also think you're the right person for me." Once again, he left you speechless. He glanced behind him, hearing the sound of the approaching class. "Let's continue this conversation in my dorm. There, you can see how your 'babies' are doing," he smiled before leaning close to your ear. "See you later mi cielo" A shiver ran down your spine as the class entered, prompting you to quickly rush to your desk before getting caught.

As they all approached Sero's desk, Momo inquired, "So, which flower did you receive this time, Sero?" With a smile, he replied, "It's a Lapageria, also known as a Chilean bellflower." The sight of the stunning flower left everyone in awe. Ochaco chimed in, "It's absolutely adorable! I wonder who keeps surprising you with these beautiful flowers." Sero glanced at you, his smile gentle as he observed your blushing face. Feeling a mix of emotions, you turned your head away, concealing your smile behind your hand, as you rediscovered the joy of expressing happiness once more.

[elleloquently]

hi lovely <3 could i request protective!ellie and reader (relationship) in a patrol but things go south and she almost gets bit by an infected and ellie is just "i can't believe i almost lost you" and literally never gets reader out of her sight after that. thank u so much! :D

a/n : i literally love this sm thank you for requesting bc after reading this prompt i could not get it out of my head!! that being said though i'm sorry this took a bit ): the format for this is kinda weird i think maybe idk yeesh but i had too many ideas so anyway yes so cute love her c/w : weapons (guns mentioned,) violence against infected, protective!ellie my beloved (not quite edited </3)

fears all the way down - ellie williams

spring hesitated to make its welcome, the morning rays shyly peeking out from behind gray skies and dark clouds. every morning upon waking you would yearn for a sunny day, and finally the sun decided to grace the sky. it was the kind of brightness that would cause you to squint upon stepping outside, desperate to shed a few layers despite the air still being chilled, anything to feel the sun on your skin.

morning frost turned to morning dew, the slight crunch of a boot or a hoof that once crushed the delicate crystals into the grass was replaced with a slippery wetness and mud, new prints left to track.

you relished in it now, closing your eyes only briefly to imagine a world without infected, free to walk or ride without pausing at any given sound or movement. your horse followed faithfully behind shimmer, ellie's horse, as she led the way. she was always like this, leading and guiding and taking charge. it was infuriating and endearing, you would roll your eyes but only if your lips wore a smile as well.

you didn't patrol often, but when you did, ellie always found herself as your partner. incessant and persistent, you weren't aware of just how much trouble she had caused behind the scenes. rearranging shifts and lecturing just about anyone who would listen to her thinly veiled threats, the patrolmen of Jackson would rather give in with a sigh than have ellie williams worked into a fuss over who was partnered with her girlfriend.

even jesse, a dear friend to you both, knew exactly who was knocking at his door even before the sun came up on a day where you were supposed to ride out on patrol together.

it wasn't that ellie didn't trust them, or have good faith in them, because she did. and it wasn't that she didn't trust you, or think you to be capable, because she did. nevertheless, ellie displays her affections by protecting the ones she loves. you happened to be a lucky one, much to your frustration and adoration. you relished in her care but you also worried about her well-being, an endless cycle of stubborn lovers where you both seemed to keep simultaneously winning and losing.

"all good back there?" ellie noticed your silence, glancing over her shoulder with a curious smile.

you hummed in response, nodding to affirm your answer to her question. it had been a quiet patrol so far, but neither yourself nor ellie were one to let your guard down.

continuing down a well-worn path, you had spotted something in the distance that was once a house, part of it nearly collapsing within itself. it grabbed your attention anyway so you tugged on the reigns, signaling for ellie who seemed to have spotted it as well.

"think it's worth a try?" you posed, and ellie mentally debated your question.

"i think it's been a bit since anyone's gone down there..." ellie eyed the path, coming to a decision with a sigh. "might as well," she shrugged, directing shimmer towards the house.

your horses fell in step with one another as you approached your destination, weary of the trees that nearly covered the house. shimmer stopped first and ellie quickly jumped down from her faithful companion, coming to your side.

ellie shielded her eyes from the sun, offering up her free hand. you took it, gratefully, and landed feet on the ground next to her. you took a quick inventory as ellie pulled out a gun, cautiously scanning the surrounding area.

"be right back, tulip," you murmured to your horse, armed with your own weapon as you carefully approached the house.

less snow made it easier for delicate footsteps, but any infected were sure to be better blended with the greenery that were soon to be blooming again. no matter how often you were outside, or dealt with infected, you couldn't stop your heart from pounding with the threat of danger looming over your head at any given moment.

the door to the house was ajar, raising your own levels of suspicion. you glanced at ellie, who's eyebrows were drawn to a crease. you were practically holding your breath upon entering, only to let out a breath of relieve when yourself and ellie came to the conclusion that it was clear.

"i'll watch the front, do you wanna check the back?" you offered to ellie, relaxing your grip on your weapon.

"be careful," ellie responded with a nod, giving you a quick, cautious smile.

you glanced around the room, trying to see if anything was worth picking over when ellie's voice broke the brief silence.

"i mean it!" she called pressingly, though the desperation in her voice was just enough to make you laugh.

a quick glance out of the window at shimmer and tulip left you satisfied, so you pulled your attention to the wreckage that covered the room's floor. there wasn't much, not really, but some of your best finds thus far had been from searching through areas like this one.

you kicked at an old chest with your boot, watching dust particles fill the air. not expecting much, you lift open a fragile compartment and grin at the unexpected sight.

"ellie," you call, using a lighthearted tone so that she doesn't mistake it for trouble.

she appears quickly anyway, amused with the proud look that's painted itself on your face.

"more ammo," you clarify, presenting her with a little box. it wasn't much, but it was certainly more than either of you were expecting, considering the looks of the place.

"that's my girl," laughed ellie, reaching out to bump your arm to which you rolled your eyes affectionately. you could show her a rock and she would probably still respond with, 'nice!'

you poked around in silence for a bit, occasionally hearing drawers opening or a mumbled swear coming from ellie's direction. it was almost nice, and you admired the way that the sunlight was warming you from the windows when a sound broke through the atmosphere.

freezing immediately, you drew your gun and waited. you prayed that you were only paranoid, but the noise sounded again and this time it was closer, there was no mistaking it.

you were lurking near the doorway, close enough to keep a watchful eye on the horses when another croaking sound made your blood run cold. the floorboards underneath your boots creaked with every step so you stayed put, eyes frantically darting around the trees as far as you could see.

gun pointed through the door, you held your breath and waited. anything that knew you were around would be hot on your trail by now, and quickly.

you waited and waited, and all you heard was silence and the occasional snort from a horse. despite the nothingness that greeted you, you felt a growing pit in your stomach and a strong desire to go back to the main pathing where you had been previously riding.

you slowly crept through the doorway, carefully closing it only halfway while you checked everything within your eyesight once more before calling to your girlfriend. you frowned, glancing over tulip. shrugging off your extra jacket, you slung it over her saddle when you suddenly heard a branch snap.

at the sounded tell, it was already too late. a stalker came barreling out from behind a line of trees, hyper focused and thrashing as it hurdled toward you. with no time to think and hardly any time to move, you wielded your gun but the creature was faster than you, stronger than you.

your body slammed against the door, knocking it open and you nearly fell backwards which allowed you to slip through the infected's grasp as it thrashed for you. immediately footsteps pounded through the house and gunshots rang in your ears, the stalker lying at your feet.

dazed and trembling as if you were frostbitten, you stared down at the infected unmoving as ellie quickly pulled you into her arms.

"hey, hey," she reassured you, checking over your body quickly just in case for any marks, but you had been saved.

"ellie," your voice wobbled, but you quickly blinked back any tears. you wanted to just dust yourself off and move on, strong and brave like you always promised ellie you would be. she worried so much, and you didn't want to actually give her a reason to worry but despite your efforts, you found yourself falling apart in her arms.

ellie held onto you, tightening her grip with every shaky breath that escaped your mouth. "it's alright, i've got you. i've always got you," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

you stayed like that only for a moment, too anxious to make another mistake. you quickly gathered your bearings and decided to call it on patrol, ellie gripping your hand as you left the house together. she helped as you hoisted yourself up onto tulip, only letting go of your hand and returning to her own horse when you were firmly grabbing the reins.

ellie was in autopilot, checking in with you and mumbling directions as you rode quickly and carefully to Jackson. the obnoxious sunshine only made your tears look more obvious on your cheeks and you roughly wiped them away with your sleeve, not wanting to appear as pathetic as you felt.

ellie grew increasingly more quiet, only quickly squeezing your hand once you made it back to safety. without a word she moved to stable shimmer, and a horrible feeling washed over you. she was acting as if she were mad, and you couldn't blame her. you remained at tulip's side, stroking your horse as you watched your girlfriend wordlessly move around the stable.

"i'm so sorry," you whispered, and ellie froze once you broke the silence. her back was to you, and you almost expected her to simply ignore you, or to start into a lecture, even though ellie would swear she wasn't always like joel, all you heard were reflections of his words in her careful pleas.

"i don't know what happened, it was so dumb and it happened so fast, ellie, so fast and i had my gun out but-"

ellie slowly turned to face you, and the look of guilt was evidently written all over her face. you abruptly cut yourself off, feeling even more awful than before.

she tried not to often reflect the losses that she had experienced, but even as strong as ellie was, it wasn't something that could be buried. even when the wildflowers start to bloom again and the skies turn blue, the threat of potentially losing someone that you love was hidden in every corner, ready to jump out and completely envelop you at any given moment, any small slip or mistake. it was nearly maddening, not knowing if that could be the last time you ever hear someone's voice. her losses were her failures, and she refused to let you be one of them.

shame and worry took over you, your eyebrows drawing together as ellie stared at you, shaking her head before starting towards you. ellie quickly pulled you into her arms once more, furiously blinking away her own tears. "i can't believe i almost lost you," she whispered into your hair, to which you quickly drew back.

"hey," you started, relieved that she wasn't upset but devastated by her confession. "i'm okay ellie, i'm not going anywhere, i promise," you reassured her.

"i know," ellie pressed. "that will never happen again," she spoke, half telling you and half telling herself. "i promise, nothing will ever happen to you."

you yearned to make ellie the same promise over and over, but you knew it wasn't the time. you allowed her to dote over you for the rest of the evening, her hand never leaving yours, not even while you had dinner. with every quiet check-in of a whispered, "are you okay?" you would nod and squeeze her hand, allowing her to look after you because you knew it was what she needed, to feel competent and to prove to herself that she was capable of protecting the one that she loves.

[babyhatesreality]

Hi if you take request I just have this in my mind:

Sometimes when you are somewhere outside (like in a mall) you get distracted by all those people and colorful stores. And if you don’t hold your daddies hands you will easily go another way.

So what if she is to distracted by something and Steve and Bucky just further without noticing that she didn’t follow (maybe they are stressed or smt like that) and she just follows someone who looks like one of her daddy’s and she only notices later that this was not her daddy and she was lost.

Okay so first things first, I'm old and don't know how to put the two similar asks together nicely so here’s a screenshot and get off my lawn. :P (edited to add: Also for @justme1234456 who requested this too!<3)

Second, I had to alter both asks a bit to align it with what I see as canon in my AU. I really hope that’s okay, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were looking for. I have to be honest about what I think could actually happen in this little world I’ve created otherwise I just can’t write it truthfully. If that offends anyone, I’m truly sorry for hurting feelings, and I encourage you to find what you’re needing with many of the other insanely-more-talented-than-I-am writers on this site. 

Break Away

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), language, pet names, praise, scared reader, angst, tears, large and pushy crowds, overprotective Papa and Daddy, fluff fluff fluff and did I mention fluff? 

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

What started as a nice walk in the park quickly turned into one of their worst nightmares. 

It had been raining for days in New York. Normally you wouldn’t have minded, having a massive pile of toys to play with and books to have read to you, and an endless supply of other family members in the tower to keep you entertained. But you were fidgety, constantly needing to be on the move. Your daddies had taken you to the big gym floor and set you loose on the giant running track, they’d taken you to the Olympic-sized indoor pool, and they’d even managed to convince Tony to let them take the Quinjet on a quick spin around the state. All of which managed to keep you satisfied...for that day. Then the next day they’d find you with your nose pressed up against the sliding glass door to the patio, watching the pouring rain, asking politely if you could go outside. Four thousand times in a row. 

Finally the rain let up right before your bedtime, and the ground became okay enough to not be a giant puddle by morning. You were so excited about going outside, wiggling around so much, that Bucky later grumbled to Steve that it had been easier escaping from the German army than getting you into your coat and rain boots. 

“We goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the park, we goin’ to the PAAAAAAAAAAARK!!!” you sung at the top of your little lungs, running back and forth with joy as you held onto Steve and Bucky’s hands, walking through the hallways of the tower. You squealed in delight when they both lifted their arms in tandem, swinging you into the air. “Again again please!!” you begged, laughing uproariously with delight when they obliged. 

Steve grinned down at you as you giggled gleefully. He was craving the fresh air just as much as you were and felt as joyful as you did. “Okay, so when we get to Central Park, what are you going to do, angel?” he asked you. 

“Hold your hand always!”

“That’s my smart girl. You hold my hand or Daddy’s hand at all times. And what happens if we get separated and you don’t see us?”

“Look for a ‘Venger to help!” 

“Right again! I’m so proud of you!” You giggled and blushed, wiggling around extra hard to let Papa know how happy his praise made you. “Now. Last one. If you don’t see someone who can help you, what do you do?”

“Light up shoes and stay PUT!”

“Great job, baby!” Steve cheered, suddenly swinging around and lifting you up into the air while you laughed crazily. All the littles in the Avengers Tower had light up shoes with tiny trackers in them, so if anything ever happened to them outside the tower and they were in little space, they’d always have a tracker on them that a caregiver could follow. It wasn’t too hard to convince any little to wear the shoes that lit up when they stomped; in fact, you all had gone through several pairs of light up shoes, delighted at the light up features. Hey, the system worked. 

Bucky grinned at the two of you, reaching back out for your hand the moment your feet touched the ground. “Good job remembering the rules, Trouble,” he said. You wiggled with joy and blushed again, making him chuckle. He looked up at his husband. “You sure you wanna try this without caps and glasses?” he asked again, raising his eyebrows. “No disguises at all?”

Steve smile warmly at his worrywart husband. “We’re not undercover, Buck. We live in this city too, and everyone already knows it anyways. It’ll be okay, and if it’s not, we’ll just ask people to respect our space or we’ll go a different direction. It’ll be fine.”

Bucky kept the smile, but tightened his grip on your hand. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little while later, the three of you were enjoying the birds singing, the fresh, cool breeze blowing through the trees, and the hum of human activity all around you. It was so lovely, it seemed like everyone in New York City was trying to get outside to see the sun. You held tight to your daddies’ hands, but your head was constantly whipping around, trying to take in all the sights at once.  

Suddenly, there was a scream in the distance. Bucky and Steve’s heads snapped in the direction of the sound automatically, their grips tightening on yours. Out of nowhere, this group of seven or eight teens came barreling at the three of you, all with their phones out, screaming about Captain America and The Winter Soldier. With the speed of light, Bucky tucked you underneath his vibranium arm, cuddling you against his body to keep you safe. This meant you had to let go of Papa’s hand, and you tried to turn your head to make sure he was okay, but Daddy’s grip on you was too strong and you couldn’t see him. 

Before you knew it, the crowd grew suddenly larger, and you heard people pointing at the group of teens in recognition- they were something called a...’influencer’ or a ‘TikTok star’ or something...you didn’t understand all the yelling. You got very, very still, hanging desperately onto Daddy’s shirt as he tried to be polite- Avengers had an image to maintain, especially the ‘reformed’ ones like him- but get these people to back off. 

One of the boys grabbed onto the vibranium arm that was holding you, screaming about how cool it was. It scared you so badly, not seeing this boy until his hands were reaching right where you were at and the loudness, that you stumbled backwards, causing you to slip out from underneath Bucky’s arm.

 Bucky’s head whipped around the second he lost contact with you. “Steve!” he hollered over the melee as he tried to move the kid away from you. “Get her!” All you caught was a glimpse of Steve’s searching blue eyes before a tidal wave of people crashed into you. It was insane- some sort of mob mentality had taken over. Between the two famous Avengers and the internet sensations surrounding them, everyone lost their minds. You tried to push against the tide, tried desperately to keep your eyes on either of them, but the crush of the crowd was too much. Your throat choked up in fear- you couldn’t even call out for them. You were carried away by the wave. It seemed to go on forever and you couldn’t stop it as it pushed you farther and farther away. 

Finally there was a break in the people that had been crowding you, and you pushed with all your might to get free of the mob. Trying to keep calm and be brave, you looked around, remembering Rule #2 as hard as you could. Your heart leapt when you saw a long mane of red hair a distance away, and you instantly ran towards it, thinking it was Aunt Natasha. Just as you were about to throw your arms around the woman, she suddenly turned. It wasn’t Auntie Nat. You mumbled an awkward apology and ran in the other direction, embarrassed. 

Gulping hard to try to keep your scared sobs inside, you came to a halt. You looked around and didn’t see anything you recognized. There was a pretty, tall fountain with an angel on top close to you, but you didn’t remember it from before. “Light up shoes and stay put,” you whispered to yourself. “Light up shoes and stay put.” You stomped your feet as hard as you could, seeing the rainbow lights activate. You looked around desperately, waiting for them to come and rescue you. You stomped harder and harder, the tears building in your eyes. No Papa. No Daddy. You slowly walked the few steps to the fountain and carefully sat down, the tears now running down your face. Every now and then, you stomped your feet to keep the shoes lit up. “Please find me,” you whispered tearfully, pleading into the air. 

Suddenly, there were shrieks and gasps coming from in front of you. You looked up to see people suddenly rushing to the sides, looking like they were dodging to get out of the way of a speeding train. And they were. A speeding train in the form of Daddy. 

Bucky came racing towards you faster than you’d ever seen anyone run. You could almost see the flames coming off his feet. The crowd parted for him, but he didn’t give two flying fucks if he ran any of them over. With barely a bend of the knees, he came flying over the stone balustrade walls surrounding the fountain, his eyes locked on your tiny form. All you could do was reach your hands to him before he reached you, scooping you up and crushing you to his chest like he was never going to let you go again. 

You just clung to him, still too frightened to do anything else. “Hey, it’s okay baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s here and he’s not letting you go,” Bucky was murmuring into your ear, so fast you could barely make out the words. “I am so sorry baby. Daddy will never let that happen again, you hear me? Never again. Never, never again. I’m right here.” You just whimpered and nodded, your tears soaking the front of his shirt. You heard another set of feet come to a screeching halt near you, but you were still too worked up to turn to see if it was Papa. You knew if it wasn’t, Daddy was going to keep you safe, and that was all you could handle at the moment. “Deep breaths, baby, can you do that for me? Can you take some deep breaths?” Daddy asked frantically, tilting his head back to look at you. “Can you take some deep breaths with me? Some deep breaths with Daddy?” You managed to nod again, and relief flooded his face. “That’s my good girl. Okay, we’re gonna sit down and take some breaths together.”

Bucky sat on the edge of the fountain where he’d found you. He turned you in his lap so you could see Steve sitting next to the both of you. Your left hand shot out instantly, needing to touch him too. Steve took your hand, covering it with his other, stroking and patting it, his eyes a warring storm of fear and relief, while Bucky held you tight, 

“Okay, baby, let’s breathe together. You remember how we breathe when we’re scared?” Daddy asked, looking down at you, his tone a bit calmer now. You could see he was still struggling too, and that gave you the nudge to be brave enough to breathe together. You nodded. “We can do it. We’ll do it together, Daddy and Baby. Okay, here we go. Breathe in.” You two locked eyes and breathed in, Bucky counting as he inhaled. “One, two, three, four,” he said on the air, then nodded at you. You held your breath with him as his lips moved, counting to four again, but not letting any air out. “Breathe out, one, two, three, four, five, six,” Bucky said, keeping his eyes locked on you while you went through the exercise together. He silently counted to six as you held your breath again. You went through the cycle three times together, feeling better and better each time. When you finished, Daddy smiled proudly at you. “I knew you could do it, Baby. Daddy loves you so much.”

“Love you too Daddy,” you said, tucking your forehead into his chest again, happy that he was okay now too. You brought Papa’s hand up to your face. “Love you too Papa.” You squeezed his fingers, pressing them in to your cheek.

“Papa loves you so much,” Steve responded, his voice tight with emotion. “Are you okay honey?” You pursed your lips for a moment, but nodded. 

“M’okay. Big peoples.”

“Yeah, that crowd was crazy, right?”

“Too loud.”

“Definitely too loud. I’m so sorry baby, that should never have happened.”

“They all go away?”

“Yeah, they’re all away now. You remember how Uncle Tony says that he can watch everybody everywhere?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he saw on his cameras that the mean crowd was bothering us and his flying suits came to help.”

“WOW.”

“We’ll have to thank him when we get home.”

“Okay, I help.”

Both your daddies chuckled, relieved that you were starting to sound like you again. “What do you think, Baby? Do you want to go home?” Bucky asked, bouncing you a little, trying to gauge how you were feeling. 

“Um,” you said. Now that you were over the fear, you weren’t QUITE ready to be back inside just yet. “We look at duckies please?” The men exchanged a quick look, checking in with each other, before they turned back to you, smiling. 

“Okay, Trouble, we will go look at the ducks,” Bucky said softly, before placing a kiss on your forehead. “Good manners.” He stood up and was about to tell you that you were only staying at the park if he carried you for the rest of the day, but the iron grip you had on his tee shirt and the way your legs locked around his waist let him know that you had no intention of being set down, anyways. He pressed another kiss into your hair. 

They walked to a quieter section by the water, grinning and laughing as you insisted on pointing to each and every duck, naming them one by one. After about ten minutes, Steve got a pedicab to get you all back to the street so you wouldn’t have to walk through all the people again. You’d made a full recovery by the time you all got back to Avengers’ Tower, babbling excitedly about all the ducky friends you’d made today and making plans to bring them bread tomorrow.

But Bucky still didn’t set you down for the rest of the evening. And you were okay with that. 

[wolfjackle-creates]

The Two Ghost Motel Chapter 4 (Final)

Finally finished the editing on this one!

Story Summary:

Danny is tired. Endless ghost fights with too many responsibilities and too little time; he barely passed sophomore year. When Ember visits town for a bit of fun, she mentions the Two Ghost Motel, a place of peace and refuge for restless ghosts who aren't ready to cross over. “I’m fine, Ember.” Danny’s got a home and friends. He’s fine, really. But when his parents begin experimenting with electricity to destabilize ghosts, it’s too much for Danny. Unfortunately, neither Sam nor Tucker can host him for the night and he’s left wandering in the night, alone. Then he sees it: The Two Ghost Motel. He checks in. “Welcome.”

AO3 Link

Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: Minor Original Character Death

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Danny ran, hand tight around Jay’s, ignoring his friend’s attempts to stop him.

He didn’t even slow when Jay yelled, “What happened? What was that ball that fell when Matt disappeared?”

All Danny knew was that they had to get away. So he kept going, dragging Jay with him. Within moments, they were at the sign. Only… Amity didn’t wait for them across the sidewalk.

Nothing waited for them at the edge of the parking lot. Just a thick fog that blocked sight of everything past the boundary of the motel property. His head spun, looking in all directions for some sort of break in the barrier, but there was none. Desperate, he shot an ectoblast at the fog, hoping the light would help him see what was past it, only for it to fizzle upon making contact.

His core thrummed in fear and he shot a more powerful blast, but the same thing happened.

“Phantom!” shouted Jay. “Answer me!”

“We’re trapped,” said Danny. Carefully, he reached out a hand. An invisible barrier stopped him from pushing into the fog. He could no more cross the boundary out of the motel than he could’ve walked through walls before his accident.

“What happened to Matt?”

“He— He was Ended, Jay.” Danny turned so he was facing his friend. He was glad the goggles hid the fact that he was tearing up, but they also prevented him from wiping them away. The world blurred around him. “This place, it’s sucking away the life force of ghosts. That’s probably why I’ve been so tired lately. It’s stealing my strength. Trying to wipe us out until there’s nothing left and we fade. Like Matt. And most likely Alan and Tom before him.”

Jay took a step back and glared at him. “Then what are we doing out here?”

“Getting out, of course! This place will kill us!”

“We’ve both been there, done that. And we can’t just leave everyone else here while we run off to save ourselves. We’ve got to save them all.”

Danny opened his mouth to protest. He wanted to go home. Jazz and his parents and Sam and Tucker would be worried sick. Jay needed to get out, too. He could come back with weapons, better prepared.

But if they got out, would he even be able to find his way back? Would escaping mean leaving all the ghosts he’d seen to their fate? His shoulders slumped. “You’re right. Of course you are. Sorry, seeing Matt’s core shatter like that… No. I won’t let it happen to anyone else if I can stop it.”

Jay’s eyes widened. “That was his core? The thing you told me about before?”

“Yeah…” Danny sighed and looked back towards the motel. He didn’t want to get a single step closer to the building, but it couldn’t be helped.

“How do you think it’s eating people?” asked Jay.

Danny held his hands out. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of something like this before.”

Jay grinned at him. “Then I guess we’ll just have to figure that out. And we’ll stop it. Then we’ll free everyone. And then we can go home to the people who are waiting for us.”

Danny huffed out a laugh and slipped his hand into his pocket where he gripped the bouncy ball. “You make it sound so easy.”

Jay grabbed his wrist and pulled him back in the direction of the hotel. “Not easy, but it is simple. Now, let’s go check out the roof like we’d planned. Just, instead of looking for records, we’ll be looking for what makes this place tick. Once— Once we’ve got everyone out, then we can grieve for Alan and Matt and Tom.”

“You’re right. I’ll be okay. We have to get out first.”

Jay nodded, and the rest of the journey to the roof was made in silence. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the passage where Matt and Alan once played jacks and flew to the roof.

Once in position, Jay pointed to a vent. “This is what I used to crawl in. I can show you the passage that leads to the main office. I didn’t explore much beyond that, though.”

“Then we’ll start with the office before branching off to see where else they lead.”

Jay grinned at him and removed the grate. He was much more efficient and quiet at it than Danny would’ve been.

Without waiting, he dove in, leaving Danny to scrabble after him. He grit his teeth and bit back the scolding he wanted to give. Jay did know the way, so having him lead made sense. Mostly the vents looked like what he’d expect from movies, however thin, ectoplasm-green tendrils wound their way through the metal. Jay didn’t waste time, so Danny couldn’t examine them too closely, but it looked like they were almost part of the metal rather than something added to it.

In the end, they arrived at the grate near the ceiling of the main office in less than two minutes. The path had only branched twice and both times, they took the right passage.

Jay pushed himself to the side and Danny took advantage of his intangibility to squeeze in next to him. From the grate, they could see the receptionist frozen in her default position. Only one ghost was sitting on the couch, and another was standing by the vending machine.

The door would be set below them in the same wall to the left. It wouldn’t take more than a handful of steps to reach, but the receptionist would have to be incapacitated or distracted if they were to make it.

Danny caught Jay’s eyes and jerked his thumb back to indicate they should back up. This time, Danny took the lead. It gave him the chance to examine the green tendrils, but they seemed to be flush with the vent. With his gloves on, he could detect no difference in texture or temperature between the regular metal of the vent and the tendrils.

When they reached the point where the vents branched, Danny led them down the way they hadn’t gone before. However it was disappointing. It led along the the length of the motel and branched into the guest rooms. First floor rooms had outputs near the ceiling; second floor rooms had them near the floor.

They reached the end of the path without finding anything useful. Jay led them back, and the remaining branch of ventilation was a mirror of the first. By the time they had explored everything and returned to the roof, night had fully set in.

“We have to get past the receptionist, don’t we?” asked Jay.

“I can’t think of anything else to do,” admitted Danny.

Jay nodded. “So how do we do this?”

“I’ll go through the front door, you go through the vent.”

“Ugh, I never get to do the fun things.”

Danny bumped their shoulders. “If you had the proper training, I’d totally take you in guns blazing. But you don’t and we don’t have the weaponry available for you to make up for it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Jay pouted, but continued, “So what next?”

“I’ll fight the receptionist. As soon as you get an opening, I want you to jump down from the vent and get through the door. Do not go further than you have to until I can join you, though.”

“Wish I could use powers like yours. Do you have any backup weapons for yourself?”

Danny waved him off. “I’ll be fine. And you need them more than I do.”

“You know, it’s a bad idea to rely on powers so much. What if something happens and you can’t use them?”

Danny shrugged. “I’ve always figured it out.”

“So far,” retorted Jay.

He sighed. “I’ll keep it in mind. Now, let’s split. Don’t do anything until I have the receptionist’s attention entirely on me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Worrywart.” Jay turned and retreated back into the vent.

Danny shook his head and flew off the side of the building to enter the office. This time, he didn’t pay any attention to the ghosts in the room. He stalked right up to the front desk and slammed his hand down with his key.

“I’m checking out.”

The receptionist didn’t respond. A glance up at the vent assured him Jay was in position.

“I said—” Danny picked up the key and slammed it down on top of the ledger “—that I’m checking out.”

Sure enough, touching her precious book was enough to wake the receptionist. Her from transformed once more: hair transforming into flames, eyes going red, and hands changing into claws.

“I told you before: You do. Not. Touch. My book!” The last words rose to an inhuman screech.

“Then let me leave!” yelled Danny back.

Smoke came out of her nose as her eyes narrowed. She leaned down, getting her face close to his. Her teeth were pointed and green not-ectoplasm dripped from them. “You will never leave,” she growled.

Danny rose into the air to even out their height difference. “Oh, you will regret trying to hold me captive. I’ve fought scarier things than you.” He shot a blast of ice at her and dove out of the way of her return fire.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Jay phase through the vent grate and land in a silent crouch on the floor. For a moment, it looked like he had a yellow cape and a black mask over his eyes. Danny blinked and he was once again in jeans and a t-shirt and gripping the knife.

He couldn’t let himself get distracted. He took several running steps in the opposite direction to keep her attention on him.

“You might be on fire, but your aim sure isn’t!” he quipped as he ducked another attack. Danny shot an ectoblast at her face and immediately followed it up with a sharp spike of ice.

She dodged the ectoblast, but the ice pierced her chest. The receptionist let out a cry of pain as Danny laughed in celebration.

The door behind the receptionist banged shut as Jay succeeded in running past her. The noise caught the receptionist’s attention. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

The distraction was just enough. Danny pulled out his thermos and aimed. She was sucked in and Danny ran after his friend.

“You made it!” exclaimed Jay, lowering the knife as soon as he recognized Danny.

Danny grinned and spun the thermos. “Yep. She’s in soup time.”

Jay groaned. “That’s terrible. Is that really what you call it?”

“Damn right it is!” said Danny. He clipped it back on his hip. “So where are we now?” They were in at the top of a set of old, wooden stairs. A single bare light bulb illuminated the landing they were on, but the bottom of the stairs was cloaked in darkness. “Ready to see what’s down there?”

Jay bumped shoulders with him. “Let’s do this and then we can get home.”

Danny lit up his hand with ectoplasm just as he had earlier that day and took the first step. The wood groaned under him. He immediately rose up a few inches. “Fly. I don’t know if it’ll hold our weight,” said Danny.

The stairs went down farther and farther. A hand on the walls confirmed these were also warded against ghosts so they had no option but to continue on the path.

“How far down do you think these go?” asked Jay.

Danny shrugged. “We’ll find out, I suppose.”

Finally they reached the end. The floor was uneven cement and more not-ectoplasm dripped down the walls. A few feet in front of them stood a metal door.

“Do you think this one will open?” asked Danny quietly.

“Won’t know until we try it,” Jay whispered back.

“Get your knife out. And listen to me if it comes to a fight. I’m the one with experience in ghost fights.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

Danny wanted to glare at him, but he knew from experience it was pointless with his suit. Only Sam, Tucker, and Jazz could reliably read his expressions as Phantom. Pure willpower was the only thing that kept his hand steady as he reached for the handle.

To his surprise, it turned easily under his hand. The door squeaked loudly as it opened.

A large basement room sat behind the door. In the middle, possibly growing from the floor or else sunk into it, sat a giant ectoplasm-green, pulsating mass. From it sprouted what looked like roots that were sunk into the very foundation of the motel. Some were thin, barely thicker than a pencil, but others were as thick as a tree trunk.

“This is what those things in the vents were,” breathed Danny. Something about the mass drew him closer and he took a step forward.

Jay grabbed his arm to hold him back. “We don’t know what it is,” he hissed.

“This is only the second time one of my victims has learned about me,” a voice echoed through the room.

The sound reverberated through Danny’s bones and his core thrummed with it. He didn’t know if he wanted to run towards it or far, far away. “What are you?” demanded Danny. He rose into the air and took a fighting stance. Jay remained on the ground, but had the knife in his hand, blade out.

Discordant laughter rang through the room. “I am the motel. It’s buildings and grounds but an extension of me, just like the bit of me that you tried to contain in that device you carry.”

“The receptionist?” asked Jay. “Is that why she’s so creepy?”

“There is no ‘she’; there is only me. I chose this form to entice ghosts to come visit. And it has worked better than I could have ever dreamed.”

The reminder had Danny tensing. “I won’t let you end any more ghosts!”

The thing laughed again, louder this time; the entire room shook with it. Danny wanted to slam his hands over his ears but held his position. It spoke again, “I’ve been here since before you were born, let alone died. Do you really think you can stop me? No. The last ghost to figure out what I was made a deal with me and I let him go. If you can think of a good enough trade, perhaps I’ll let you go, too. But the rest are mine.”

Jay, just loud enough for Danny to hear, said, “I don’t think it can move from that spot.”

Danny turned his attention to the ground. It was true, the being bulged around the floor where it was positioned. And the tendrils had obviously not changed position since the floor and walls had been built.

“What are you?” asked Danny again.

“I am what happens when creatures are born between life and death.”

“Oooh-kay. Got it, dude. But, like, do you have a name?” Danny ignored the way Jay snickered at his question.

The creature spoke with a boy’s voice, “I’m Matt!” Then, in a different voice, said, “I’m Alan.” Its voice got deeper and older said, “I’m also Tom.” Then the names and voices came faster and faster. Too fast to understand with some male, some female, and in many different languages.

As the voices overlapped, they also became louder. Before Danny could think of anything to do, Jay slapped his hands over his ears and shouted, “Enough!”

The creature stopped. “You asked,” it said in its original inhuman voice.

“Something I regret, not gonna lie,” said Danny.

“You can make me a deal or you can join the ones you’re searching for now. It makes no difference to me.”

“What deal did you make last time?”

The thing laughed again and next to him Jay tensed. “Had he not also been born between worlds like me—like you—I would not have listened to him at all.”

“I’m nothing like you!” protested Danny.

“We were both created between Death and Life. We are more alike than you know.”

Jay growled next to him. “Yeah, but he gives a shit about people and you eat them. I think that matters more than whatever similarities you think you have.”

“Tiny ghost. You’re already more than half mine. Soon you will join the rest of them. I’ve taken so much from you already, so much you don’t remember.”

“The deal!” shouted Danny to bring its attention away from Jay. “What was it?”

“Yes, the deal. Plasmius has been a very good help to me. He promised to send other ghosts my way. I’ve never fed so well in my life. So many of my rooms are occupied now. I had to add on more just for all those that have found me thanks to him.”

Danny flew back a foot involuntarily. Vlad had helped this thing? Was Vlad the entire reason the motel had made it’s way to Amity in the first place?

He shook himself. It didn’t matter. He could deal with Vlad later. Right now, he had to get everyone away from this monster.

“If that’s what you’re after, we will never have a deal.”

“Then I’ll take your power. How much greater will I be if I gorged on a prince, I wonder?”

Before Danny could even question the statement, one of the creatures tentacles tore out of the floor under them, sending cement flying.

“Jay!” Danny called as he saw his friend get tossed up; but Jay caught himself mid-air and gave Danny a grin and a thumbs up.

Danny nodded back and shaped an ectoblast into a blade that he shot at the tentacle even as it raced towards him. The appendage was torn in two, spraying him with more of the not-ectoplasm. He was grateful his suit kept it from actually touching him. His mask even filtered out most of the smell, though not quite all.

Jay was far enough away that he avoided being splashed. “Dude, you reek. Can’t you get a shower down here or something?”

Danny laughed. “If the sprinkler system reached down here, would it release water or more of that rotten ectoplasm or whatever it is?”

With a wordless yell, another tentacle yanked free of its confines, sending concrete falling from the ceiling.

Danny dove at Jay, pushing them both just out of the way. He sent another ectoblade at it and this time they were both sprayed with its blood. Jay cried out in pain as it hit him.

“Shit, sorry!” Danny set Jay down. “Are you okay?”

Jay grit his teeth and nodded. “I’ll be fine. But I don’t think this knife is going to do much.”

Danny winced and threw up a shield as another tentacle pulled loose and a chunk of the ceiling nearly hit them. He formed an icicle and pinned the attacking appendage to the wall. Already he could feel himself getting tired and the fight had only just started.

“Can you make me a weapon out of ice?” asked Jay as he watched to make sure the pinned tentacle stayed trapped.

“Good idea!” Still maintaining the shield with one hand, Danny used the other to make an ice sword. He put extra focus into making the edge as sharp as he possibly could. “Will this do?”

Jay grinned at him and took it. “Fuck yeah!”

“Careful, blade’s sharp!”

The monster was clearly done letting them fool around. The floor shook as it pulled free two more large tentacles and hit the shield hard from both sides. Danny threw out his other hand and poured as much power as he could into maintaining the shield.

“I can’t keep this up for long,” he warned Jay through gritted teeth. “Hold onto me and I’ll drop the shield and fly us away.”

“Got it.” Jay wrapped his left arm around Danny’s stomach so they were facing opposite directions and held on tight. With his right hand, he held the sword out, ready to attack.

Another roar echoed, followed by a blast of flames.

Danny cursed and the double onslaught of flames and tentacles shattered his shield. He sent blasts of ice to block as much of the fire as he could, but he and Jay both screamed when they were burned by what he couldn’t stop.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he shot another ectoblade at a tentacle. This time, it only sliced halfway through before dissipating.

Jay had better luck and managed to cut the other one with his sword. Only to let out another yell when its blood splattered both of them.

Some landed on an area where the fire had burned through his suit and it felt like acid on the wound. Danny turned them both invisible and dragged Jay away, sending a wave of healing ice over both of their bodies to soothe the injuries.

“Thanks,” said Jay.

“We need to come up with a strategy,” said Danny.

“I think it’s sitting in something. A crack in the ground, looks like it’s filled with more of that green stuff.”

“What?” Danny turned to look, only to trip over one of the small tendrils.

“Found you!” yelled the creature as it pulled free another three larger tentacles.

Danny dropped the invisibility and focused on keeping the any debris from hitting them while Jay hacked at the tentacles with the sword. Danny used shields to block as much of the blood splatter as he could, though a few bursts of pain on areas where his suit was damaged and curses from Jay proved he wasn’t entirely successful.

The movement of the monster did allow Danny to see what Jay meant, however. The floor surrounding it was being torn up as much as everywhere else and, through the destruction, he could see the tell-tale swirling green of a portal.

“It’s sitting in a portal,” breathed Danny. “Half in this world, half in the zone.”

The moment’s distraction was all it needed, however. Danny yelled in surprise as a tentacle wrapped around him and lifted him high into the air.

“Phantom!” yelled Jay who rushed forward, sword raised, oblivious to the tentacle behind him.

“Behind you!” Danny shouted back.

Jay spun, slashing with his sword, but it was too late. He was captured, too. The weapon fell from his grasp as his arms were bound tight to his sides.

“Jay!” called Danny again. But the tentacle holding him rotated so he could no longer see his friend. Instead, he faced the giant mass that took up the center of the room.

In it opened a crack. Flames escaped the gap which widened as Danny was dragged closer. As it shifted, however, the ground cracked around it, making the portal more visible. Danny watched as it sunk a few inches.

“I’ve got you now, young prince! And a nice little bird for desert after.” The creature’s echoing laugh was going to feature in Danny’s nightmares, he just knew it.

Danny twisted and squirmed, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake loose. Not even his intangibility let him phase through the appendage holding him captive. He closed his eyes and reached for his core. His power levels were low, much lower than they should’ve been, but he pulled anyway and aimed through his feet.

The ectoblast hit the ground at the edge of the portal, sending chunks of cement and dirt falling into the Zone.

It laughed again. “How did you manage to win your position with aim that poor?”

Danny laughed. “Oh, you wish I’d missed.” He yanked on his core again and shot another ectoblast at the ground. More crumbled away and the creature sank a few feet into the portal.

The monster roared and every tentacle not holding onto it’s prisoners jammed into the walls and ceiling to hold itself steady. Chunks of the already damaged building fell all around them. Danny cried out as he was hit hard on the head with a slab of cement.

Cries that were echoed by Jay.

“You okay, birdie?” shouted Danny. His transformation threatened to wash over him, but he grit his teeth and pushed it back. He could do this. He needed to do this.

“Just peachy,” was the terse reply.

Danny didn’t bother replying, just closed his eyes, gathered as much power as he could, and let out one more ectoblast. This time, several feet of flooring broke apart and fell through the portal, destabilizing enough that the creature was relying on his anchors to the building to keep from falling through.

The tentacle holding Danny loosened its grip just enough to allow him to pull free. He turned to Jay only to find he’d also escaped.

“What have you done?” screamed the monster as the building shook above them. The tentacles that had been holding Jay and Danny also shot forth to dig into the ceiling, but that only succeeded in it destabilizing further.

Now the holes were big enough to see through and so much of the building was crumbling that the creature was clearly struggling to keep its grip. Every movement just pulled down more of the building around them.

“Come on!” called Jay. “There’s a door over there!”

Danny grabbed his hand and turned them both intangible to avoid as much of the collapsing building as possible. It didn’t entirely work—some of the pieces hit them despite their intangibility—but it kept them from being completely buried.

Jay reached for the handle and it didn’t turn. “Fuck,” he cried.

Without letting go of his hand, Danny pushed him behind him and thought back to the martial arts lessons his mom had given him when he was younger. He kicked the door.

It shook in its frame, but held solid.

He grit his teeth and tried again. He felt a pull coming from behind him and looked over his shoulder. What the creature wasn’t knocking into the portal with it’s struggles was being sucked in.

“Shit!” cried Danny. He kicked the door again. On the fourth try, it finally gave. Though that could’ve been because half the wall next to it also collapsed. Danny didn’t care and flew through, dragging Jay behind him.

Instantly, he recognized the hallway. It was the one he and Jay had explored earlier, and the door he’d broken down, the one they couldn’t get through. He pushed forward, though it was getting harder to fly against the pull of the portal.

“Hurry up!” cried Jay.

Danny didn’t turn to look, just kept going. They were at the stairs and he was going up. He didn’t slow as they approached the door, just flew right through it. Luckily it let them.

He veered right, making his way to the parking lot and the entrance to the motel property. They had to make it through this time. From the corner of his eye, he could see the motel collapsing into the portal, sucking everything in.

“What about the others?” yelled Jay.

“They’re being dragged into the Zone! They’ll be fine. Better’n here at least. But we want to go back to Earth. We can’t afford to be lost in the Zone if we’re going to return to our families!”

“Promise?”

The pull was getting harder to fight, but they were almost to the boundary of the parking lot. “Promise!”

And he hit the fog. This time, it didn’t feel like hitting a wall. Instead it felt like flying into water. It was heavy and slowed him down. So, so hard to fight through. But he thought about Jazz and Sam and Tucker. He remembered the good times with his parents and school and evenings at the Nasty Burger.

“You’re going the wrong way!” called Jay.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Trust me, birdie. This’ll get us home!”

Jay tugged on his hand, trying to pull him off course. Danny refused to budge and kept pushing forward.

And Jay let go.

Before Danny could cry out, before he could decide whether to go back or keep pushing forward, he was dropping out of the sky and landing hard on pavement. Completely drained, his transformation washed over him before he could even try and stop it.

“Jay? Birdie!” he called and looked around. He pushed himself up, only for his arms to give out. From what he could tell, he was in some alley between two buildings. Before he could figure out more than that, his vision spun and the world went black.

---

He heard voices. “…readings… nearby…”

Danny groaned. Whatever he was sleeping on was hard and his everything hurt. But he couldn’t muster up the strength to move.

“I think I heard something!” called a voice. A familiar voice.

“Mom?” moaned Danny. He forced his eyes opened and winced when a bright light shone in his face.

“Danny! Jack, Jack, come quick. It’s Danny!”

The light came closer and he pulled back. It turned off, and Danny could see him mom there, running towards him then kneeling in front of him. She peeled off a glove and ran her hands through his hair.

“Oh, sweetie. Your father and I have been worried sick. Where’ve you been? What happened?”

“Dan-o!” His dad sprinted around the corner and half collapsed to the ground right next to Danny. “You’re all bruised up! Was it a ghost? Where is it? It’ll regret the day it ever laid a hand on Jack Fenton’s boy!”

Danny huffed a laugh and pushed himself up until he was sitting. His dad immediately pulled him into a tight hug and Danny relaxed into it.

“I fought it off, dad. It’s not gonna come back.”

“That’s my boy!”

“Oh, but Danny,” said his mom. “You’re absolutely covered in bruises! And is that a burn? Let’s get you to a doctor, hun.”

“No!” Danny winced when his mom pulled back at his vehemence. “I mean… I just want to go home. Can’t I go home?”

“I don’t know, honey. I want to make sure you’re all right.”

Danny’s stomach growled. “Please, mom? I just want something to eat then to crawl into bed and not move for twenty four hours.”

“Come on, Mads! Boy’s a Fenton and we Fentons are tough. We’ll fill you up with ham and fudge, Dan-o.”

His mom sighed. “Oh, if you’re sure. And Jazz would kill us if we didn’t let her see Danny immediately.” Before Danny could do more than grin at her, she was continuing, “But I’ll be looking over your injuries and if anything looks out of place, we are going straight to the hospital. Got it, young man?”

“Yes, mom.”

Before Danny could pull away from his dad to push himself to his feet, he was being picked up. He relaxed into his dad’s chest and closed his eyes. He drifted, vaguely aware of his parents talking, of getting into the GAV, and of driving off.

Then he was being carried inside and he heard Mom calling for Jazz. He shifted, trying to force himself to wake up.

Dad set him down on the couch. “Waking up there, Danny-boy?”

From upstairs, he heard running footsteps and Jazz shouting “Danny!”

He pushed himself up so he was standing just in time to see Jazz practically fly down the stairs and tackle him in a hug that sent them both back into the couch cushions.

“Hey, Jazz.”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, do you hear me? Never, Danny!”

Danny hugged her back tightly and tried to ignore how her weight pressed on the small rubber ball in his pocket. “I’ll do my best, Jazz. Promise.”

More quietly, she asked, “You’ll tell me everything, right?”

Danny nodded his agreement. “Tomorrow. I’ll want your help with something.”

“Jazz, let Danny up,” ordered their mom. Jazz obliged and shifted until they were sitting side-by-side. Mom nodded her approval and shifted closer to put a hand on his chin so she could examine his face. “What on earth did you get up to? It’s not just bruising, you’re bleeding, too! Jack, get the first aid kit.”

“You’ve got it, snookums!” And he ran out of the room, shaking the walls as he did.

“Mom, mom. It’s okay. I’m sure it looks worse than it is.”

“Daniel James Fenton, stop downplaying your injuries. All of this will have to be disinfected.”

And Dad was back, holding the kit above his head like a trophy. “One first aid kit coming up!” he exclaimed as he handed it to Mom.

“Thank you, Jackiepoo.”

Dad winked at Danny. “Now for the fudge! Nothing helps chase away pain like a large piece of fudge.”

Before Danny could reply, he was running back out of the room. He met Jazz’s eyes and they both broke out in giggles which made him mom tut and order him to remain still.

Danny was still worried about Jay and the other residents of the motel. But he’d look for them tomorrow. Tonight, he let himself relax with Jazz pressed up against his side and his mom fussing over him and his dad forcing a piece of fudge the size of his head on him.

He was finally home.

---

Hundreds of miles away, a boy opened his eyes only to find himself trapped in dark box. He banged on the top, but it didn’t budge move. His hands explored the space, looking for a knife. Or even anything sharp.

All he could find was his belt buckle. He pulled it out and used it to tear apart the wood of the box above him. Dirt greeted him on the other side, but he kept digging through it. Inch by inch for six feet.

When he pulled himself out of the ground, it was to come face-to-face with a gravestone.

For the first time in months, Jason Todd breathed.

-----

The End

Hope you enjoy! It's been so much fun working in a new genre.

[localhopedealerr]

Starry Night

Azriel x Reader Oneshot

Some fluffy late night talk with azzy✨⭐️

Warnings: noneee EXCEPT i literally didn’t edit this at all, i just had to get it posted. so beware and i’m so so sorry. 🫣

You hadn’t meant to spend so long up on the balcony, but the stars seemed to keep your thoughts in an endless conversation. The other members of the Inner Circle had dispersed after an evening full of wine and food, but you had hung behind waiting on your mate. One thought led to another, until you found yourself curled up on the outdoor sofa, staring up into a sky that seemed to go on forever.

You weren’t sure you’d ever get over the view. Tiny bursts of life filling a vast sea of black. The stars were so willing to allow the people who lived here to witness their beauty every night. A beauty you weren’t sure anyone here deserved, but were all damn grateful to see.

“I didn’t realize you were still down here. You should be sleeping. ”

Your head peaked behind the back of the couch, finding the eyes of the infamous Shadowsinger. He had gone off to speak with Rhys about his latest intel, needing to share it while it was fresh on his mind. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his pants, a fitted black long sleeve covered his impressive frame. As casual as he ever dressed himself, usually preferring his leathers and arsenal of weapons strapped to him.

He had been in a rare form tonight, having just returned from a mission that kept him away from home- away from you- longer than he wanted. The Spymaster spoke openly the whole night, laughing and joking with the whole table. Enjoying the much needed family time.

You liked seeing that side of him. Multiple times throughout the night you caught yourself simply marveling at him. He’d caught your eyes a few times, offering a smug smirk in response before returning to the conversation in front of him. Cheeky shit.

You didn’t mind it though. You were in love with that smirk. In love with the way he spoke. The way he laughed. Hell, you weren’t sure there was anything you didn’t love seeing him do.

“It’s not hard to lose sleep when there’s a view like this waiting for me every night.”

Azriel nodded, looking out over the balcony for a moment before he came to seat himself next to you. You moved your legs underneath yourself, allowing Azriel to press up against you as your head fell against his shoulder.

“Cassian was acting a fool tonight, im surprised Nesta didn’t cut him off sooner.”

You snorted at that. “You’re surprised? Im sure Nesta enjoys Cassian plenty when he’s too wasted. He gets a hundred times hornier.”

Your mate laughed, a delish sound falling out of his lips as his head fell back against the cushion. Cassian must have finished at least two bottles of Rhysands wine by himself, much to your high lords dismay. “Yes, i suppose that’s true. I guess we should count ourselves lucky he was sober enough to fly them back to the Townhouse tonight.”

You laughed once more, shaking you head as you thought about your friends. You loved them dearly, but couldn’t deny the sigh of relief you let out when they had decided to spend the night at the Townhouse instead of the House of Wind, sparing their friends the torture of having to listen to them well into the early hours.

“You haven’t told me how your mission went, or what exactly you were doing on it.”

Azriel kissed the side of your head, sighing as his hands tugged at your own, toying with the pads of your fingers. “ mm, let’s talk about it tomorrow. Let me enjoy the night sky with my mate.”

You wouldn’t argue with him, couldn’t argue with him- Not when those dark, angelic eyes met your own. How could you deny your mate of anything when he was so perfect?

You gave a look of contemplation, before finally sighing dramatically. “ Fine. You’re off the hook for now. Have you finished that book i lent you?”

Azriel hummed in response, head lazily leaning to one side. “ I did. I was surprised with the ending, in a good way. “

“ I know, it was out of nowhere. But that’s what i like about the author. “

He smiled when your eyes lit up, like they always did when you talked about books. “I’d like to read more from him. We should start the next one together.”

You shifted, burrowing yourself closer to his side. You blinked slow, body and soul finally feeling at peace now that your mate was back with you. “ Tomorrow, we can go to that bookstore down by the river and grab the next books.”

Azriel held you closer, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “ It’s a date.” His eyes closed.

You could barely keep your eyes open now. “ I love you. I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re going to sleep?” Azriel mused, one eye lifting up to peak down at the girl in his arms.

You had already dozed off. Azriel kissed the top of your head one more time, before shifting your bodies. He now held you on top of him, your legs tangling with his.

“ Sweet dreams, baby.”

[angstyaches]

hey, I really love your kazuhito-centric fics! I wanted to ask for advice because I'm only now starting to get into actually writing emeto fics (despite reading and liking them for about 1 or 2 years now). I hope that's OK! I want to write more in general, but I find it hard to find ideas I actually think are worth writing! I have little ideas I write down (many, actually, like 3 or 4 a day), but again, I can't force myself to finish or even start a fic idea I'm not 100% liking (although I sometimes dislike the fic after writing it anyway?) It's a bit sad because I wish I could do something with these ideas that are just uselessly sitting around in my notes app or on a sticky note in my room ... Any advice?

I'm sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for quite a few weeks now, anon! I haven't been physically or mentally well, but I'm doing a little better, so hopefully this helps.

Firstly, thank you for liking the silly little fox boy 🖤🦊

What I've found about writing sickfic is that it's not necessarily about the idea but about how you want to make the reader (and yourself) feel about the sickie. Do you want the reader to feel like you're right there, experiencing it from their POV? Do you want to show how pathetically sick they are from the POV of another character? Do you want there to be a bit of banter or lighthearted chat, or is the moment going to be heavy and angsty? What is the story going to reveal about your character; will they discover something about themselves, will they feel differently about the person who's with them by the end, will parts of their personality crumble away amidst the sickness? Emeto readers will read the same story a hundred times from a hundred different writers because it'll make them feel different every time.

Whatever idea you have, no matter how good you think (or don't think) it is, it is always worth writing! Every single time.

And the trick with not liking your fic is that I rarely actually like my fics before I post them. If I had my way, I would horde them on my computer and make tweaks here and there, with the aim of eventually ending up with a 'perfect' story, every single day until I'm in my grave.

Sadly, if we wait around to feel 100% happy with our work, we'll never share anything with anyone.

But people want to read your stories, and the only way they can read them is if you put them into words, get them to a point where they at least somewhat resemble what you have in your head, and publish them. Editing and perfection is for the professionals, and here on the hellsite, no one's going to compensate you for the endless hours you might pour into a fic, only for it to end up in the same state as when you started.

Let yourself off the hook. And let us read your beautiful stories 🖤

[henryloverman]

I have an idea for a Au/Promt, The Stanley Parable is only one place, with only one Stanley and Narrator, but what if there were multiple Parables, the same Stanley Parable but with different outcomes and characters.

Like all of those Parables are different timelines, with endless possibilities, and all of those timelines are controlled by one single person, Stanley the Time keeper, I got this idea from a YouTube comment, where Stanley and the Settings were the same person, but I have a bit of a twist to it, Stanley the Time keeper came from the future, he knows the truth about the Parable, he saw all the endings, and the epilogue, he remembers everything, unlike the Stanley from the different timelines, he knows they exist.

Stanley the Time keeper or TK-Stanley, he was seen walking from inside Employee 425, the mysterious Stanley look alike. I know some of you might ask, does the Narrator know his existence? Well no, TK-Stanley hides himself from the Narrator, because if he knew TK-Stanley was there, TK-Stanley would have mostly been deleted.

Stanley the Time keeper intervenes with the timelines only a little bit, he mostly observes them, his biggest goal is to end the parable, to kill the Narrator once and for all, but how? You can't exactly kill someone that is only a voice with no body, right? Well, TK-Stanley has been hunting down where the Narrator's hideout is at, he knows that the Narrator has a physical body, but it's quite hard to find where he is, that is why TK-Stanley goes to each timeline, trying to find clues to where the Narrator could possibly be at.

TK-Stanley can't find the Narrator when the Player is around, the Player's existence is unknown, but it is easy to know when they're online, when the Player is online, all places outside the Parable will be prohibited, making it hard to finish TK-Stanley's goal, the only way for the Player to go offline is to let them finish the game, but that doesn't guarantee that they will leave.

So there's 4 main characters here.

Narrator

Stanley

Player

Stanley the Time keeper

The Player's goal is unknown since they don't communicate with anyone except for TK-Stanley, I won't exactly call it communicating since it's just TK-Stanley giving questions and the Player just answering it. The player is from the Real world, the same as the Narrator, but the Player isn't exactly in the Parable, they're using Stanley's body as a puppet, but the Player could not talk. The player stayed inside the Parable for just one person, the Narrator, i could say that the Player is amused by the Narrator's dialogue, which had kept them interested in the game for a long time.

The Player is not one person but multiple people at the same time, they are voices, but only one could move the body, they want to see all the choices they could make before the game is over, but what is stopping them, is it the body they're using not following their orders? Or is it the fact that the game is already over?

Four people with different goals, one is a voice that wants to continue his story, two is an employee who wants to escape, three is an observer who wants to kill one, and four who wants to play the game forever, will the four of them ever meet? will the Narrator find out who the Player is? Will Stanley get his body back??? Will the time keeper get his revenge???

This Prompt/Au is called "Time Parable Au"

Edit: If anybody wants to use this concept, I'm fine with it, not only I'm fine with it, I encourage you to ^^

In this Au, The Player could be in love with the Narrator, but the Narrator loves Stanley, but Stanley loves the bucket >:)

I'm sorry I haven't uploaded for awhile, i'm almost done with my school which means there's a lot of activities and exams to do.

Btw I'm surprised theres no Bucket x Stanley fanfics out there, even Narrator x Narrator lol, I might write one myself ;)

Thank you for reading, and I wish you a nice day ^^

Also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 142 FOLLOWERS, I appreciate it so much, thank you :)

[ginoeh]

Tagging Game

Got tagged by @seiya-starsniper and @bruce-wayne-simp ! Thanks, friends 💜

Sordid details under the cut lol

Fav Colour: blues and greens! They feel like freedom and calm to me

Currently reading: Shakespear's Star Wars - Verily, a New Hope (don’t ask. it's hilarious.)

Last song: Fascination Street - The Cure (and just before that, it was Bella Ciao while driving into a Military Camp in Italy. again, don’t ask. it was hilarious...)

Last series: Good Omens 2

Last movie: The Pale Blue Eye

Currently working on: An Excavation. Sorry just kidding. Working on my Dreamcatcher AU and the last editing of my Endless Big Bang fic.

I'm tagging @aquilathefighter , @the-cloudy-dreamer , @quillingwords , @lenreli , @tj-dragonblade , @immacaria , @pintobordeaux erm... okay that’s it for now? Anyone else who wants to, feel tagged as well <3

[flops]

they should put us in charge of conceptualizing these variety shows tbh bc you know i can come up with soso many ideas and concepts for variety shows like the possibilities are endless and even if they wanna have shows with a more competitive edge like we can have that without traumatizing teenagers or literal children!!!!! its not like im 100% against all competition shows, i just haaate the way television manipulates viewers via editing or straight up tempers with the votes (and like b4 anyone thinks that, no, ik this doesnt just apply to korean tv, i mean i got the full scope of tv fakeness from the gntm exposées so its safe to say a lot of television is bullshit and rigged, making me tend more toward variety shows bc those are all sunshine and happiness and theres probably no execs perpetuating drama in those shows. not to say i trust them entirely but i trust them more) anyways sorry i put that whole rant in here my actual proposal for competitive edge could be very simple cover performance competitions, or maybe specifically nugu group competitions in one big show event instead of episodes to give them equal screentime and more or less equal chances in votings AND ALSO i really dont like how there pulling debuted idols out of their groups!! to compete in shows!! sometimes with people YEARS younger than them like ok im sorry idk why im ranting to you abt this bc you already get it but!! my point is we should be the television 👍 you aswell bc youre so right i nthe addition about make up and styling id love to see some of them try fsdgsdg

anon i think we found your true calling 🙏 i looove your ideas so much !!!! also yeah tv fakeness is real and upsetting like in my country all the reality tv shows are scripted to hell and its so miserable.... also watching this seasons boys planet just makes me so mad bc these trainees are so sweet and taleneted but i cant even enjoy the episodes bc they way mnet edits them is just so.... awful and i have seen past seasons of produce 101 and let me tell you they were manipulating the viewers there too but this time its like mnet is not even trying to be subtle about it like the amount of times they have been exposed abt alternating or grabbing out of context what one of the trainees said just to push some kind of narrative they came up with to make the show more 'dramatic' .... so ugly 😑 peaktime pissed me off too bc they told all those guys to practice this new choreo/song for a few hours amd then the mentors humiliated them for not showing a perfect performance when of course a bunch of strangers who havent practiced/performed together before arent gonna show a perfect performance yet 😭 and we wasted hours on watching this.... god....

anyways sorry for the rant but i get you and more importantly they really should put you in charge as a tv producer 🫵❤️

[dinsbeskar]

I NEED A THERAPIST TOO, I AM UNWELL

sorry I am actually feral for this, he is so unhinged, I need him

"sludge in a cave" absolutely sent me, like I'm currently editing my fic where he is all goo, and frankly nothing I have written compares to "sludge in a cave", you've won that 😂

He couldn't lie to you. Not truly. Not without regret. The lies he spoke to you were like needles coming from his throat and spilling from his tongue, gashing and cutting him before spilling past his lips. He could not lie to you.

Ooooof oh my god the great deceiver realising he can't lie to her, ohhhhhhhh i am in pain, it is too good???

He could never be sated.

Me neither!!! Christ I could read this forever

The feel of your skin would be an invisible tattoo etched into his hands until the stars rained from the skies.

Fucks sake this is just gorgeous, what a bloody beautiful metaphor, I couldn't come up anything to rival it if I sat like those hypothetical monkeys at the endless typewriters who spontaneously write Hamlet (weird metaphor but it is true!!)

One day, he would carve his name into your flesh, and he would lap at the blood that flowed from the wound.

Is that a threat or a promise???? Jesus I need to lie down

“That's it, that's my girl,” he mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

I feel like him calling me his girl might just cure me of all my ills, or make them 10 times worse, but uhhh we need it, there's something so endearing yet possessive about it that's perfect for his character

You were his. His alone. No one could have you. No one could dare. He'd burn the world to the ground and everyone with it. He'd drown the world in blood. No sin was too dark for him to commit, not if he ended back here. Deep inside you.

Holy mother of God, this is insane, unhinged, deranged, I love it so much, he needs to be stopped!!! Fuck!!!

Something about how you looked at him in that moment, he realized you owned him. He was yours. No one else's. No elf. No Maiar. There was only you. You were his religion, and this was his worship. He was yours. You owned him. He was ruined for anyone else. Perhaps you were not made for him, but he for you.

Okay????? Holy shit????? Oh god it's the "this was his worship" for me, I am broken, I need to touch grass

And I have such a soft spot for him wanting to be called Mairon, christ I need it to happen?? The angst when she finds out he's Sauron though, oh goddd

Flawless, 10/10, absolutely filthy, as we knew it would be

And Comes Dawn pt 10.2

Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader

Words: 2.6k

Summary: The wall breaks.

Tags: manipulation, mentions of blood, smut, cream pie, fingering, sauron needs a therapist he is unwell, wall sex, obsession, sauron pov,

Notes: you sluts convinced me. I'm very proud of this one, especially the first part. As always I love your feedback.

He splashed the water over his face, mind reeling back to hours earlier. He hoped his ruse with the blacksmith worked. Yes, he wanted a job and a fresh start. At least part of him did, the part that didn't seek to take over the world and force every race under the sun to their knees. But he also knew where you'd be. Of course he did. He could sense you anywhere. You'd never be able to hide from him. The sight of you with the boy made his blood boil, but it all served a purpose. To make you doubt. To make you think. To convince you, he felt nothing real for the elf. Nothing like he felt for you.

That wasn't a deception. He didn't feel the same for her that he felt for you. She was a powerful ally and the best pawn he could have at his disposal. She intrigued him, but in a different way than you did. She had such darkness in her, but she didn't acknowledge it. She was beautiful, of course. But you were different in ways that he dare not think too much of. The wall he has built in his mind was too strong to allow his mind to wander to what his feelings for you meant, where the deception ended, and his truth began.

The knock drew him from his thoughts, and he made quick work of dressing himself. He couldn't help but smirk. It was you, of course it was, and it meant that his plan had worked. In a moment, his face changed as he opened the door.

“When did you get back?”

The sound of your voice started a chorus inside his soul. The miniscule part of him that could feel love and affection and joy and hope came alive. Morgoth convinced him it was the weak part of him. Morgoth had worked endlessly to destroy that. Sauron could almost believe it was gone until he looked into your eyes, and it ravaged him, shaking his being and willpower and fighting against everything he knew and believed.

“Early this morning, before sunrise.” He spoke softly. Your silence was thick in the air. Perhaps he needed to do more.

“Sweet one, I am sorry for what happened before. I ..-”

“Do you love me?”

What?

No.

He didn't.

He couldn't.

He wasn't capable of it.

Inside his mind, the carefully constructed wall began to crack.

Do you love me?

The words rang in his ears, getting louder and louder until it was all he could think. His mind could not break free. There was no manipulating or deceiving his way out of this. His consciousness would no longer let him deny it.

He couldn't lie to you. Not truly. Not without regret. The lies he spoke to you were like needles coming from his throat and spilling from his tongue, gashing and cutting him before spilling past his lips. He could not lie to you.

Why?

He could not look you in the eyes and think of bringing you harm. He had tried. How many times on that raft had he thought of drowning you in the sea. Or stabbing you. He could imagine his body acting the movements. He could see it in his mind's eyes, but he could never do it. He could never harm you. He couldn't even make something else bring you harm.

Why?

You made him think of home. Of song and light and love. Of a time before time when everything was peaceful and quiet. Your touch brought him a warmth he had not felt in time unimaginable.

Why?

Why did he have to protect you? Why did he seek you out every moment of every day? Why did 3 days apart from you feel longer than the thousands of years he spent as sludge in a cave?

Why did you make him wonder? Wonder about the future, about his morality, about his redemption. About the mystery of if Maia and mortals could ever have children. Why did you make him think of a family?

Why was your mere presence so utterly groundbreaking to who he had become that it felt like an apocalypse had come over his very soul?

“Halbrand, do you love me?”

Your voice tore him from these thoughts, and looking at you, he knew. He knew.

And in that knowing he feared. He feared what he could do to you. He feared what others could do to you. He feared his old master long dead.

He feared because it was true.

He feared because he loved you, and he could no longer keep it hidden from himself.

“I do.”

He was not prepared for when you sprung on him, and he couldn't gather the willpower to hesitate. He had felt lust before, for others of his kind and for a select few elves, but what he felt for you transcended the physical. You tasted sweet, of course you did, and he couldn't help the groan that rumbled in his throat. His fingers dug into the plump flesh of your cheeks as if afraid you'd move away.

He had longed for this moment, it seemed for an eternity, but he knew that was not the case. He broke the kiss, holding your chin in his grasp as he kept your face away from him. He could not just take you. He had to know if you wanted him too. He craved it. And if you didn't want him, he would wait until you did.

“Sweet one,” his voice was deep and rough, looking down at you. You looked so pure and so innocent. “Tell me this is what you want.”

“I want this. I want you.”

You spoke with no hesitation. There was not even a moment. What he thought about in the quiet of the night with his cock grasped in his hand, the lewd sounds he'd only imagined you making, it was all about to become a reality.

“Fuck,” he groaned and made quick work of pulling you into his room. He pushed you against the door, knee between your legs and lips bruising yours. He could feel your arousal on the cloth of his pants, his tongue slipping inside of your mouth. You tasted so sweet. So pure. So good. He could never be sated.

Your skin felt soft in his hands. He squeezed and kneaded all of you. Your stomach. Your thighs. Your ass. Your breasts. The feel of your skin would be an invisible tattoo etched into his hands until the stars rained from the skies.

It was him who whined when you pulled away. He was desperate for more. His forehead rested against yours as he watched you. Your lips swollen and red, he could taste your spit on his tongue, and he needed more of you.

But only if you wanted him too. Only if you needed him to. The devastation of his love for you had been immense. He could not imagine the havoc your rejection would cause. One hand gently rested at the base of your neck to direct your eyes to him, his thumb softly caressing your skin.

“Tell me to stop, sweet one, and I will.”

You looked up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. How could anyone compare to you?

“I am yours.”

Oh, sweet one.

You did not know what you spoke. You did not know who you were saying this. He had selfishly claimed you, but in this moment, he felt almost broken because you did not deserve him.

“Do not say words when you do not know the weight of them, sweet one.”

“I am yours.” And suddenly you were leading his hand under your dress and to your soaked underwear. He had to grit his teeth to stop his eyes from rolling back. He doesn't dream, but he had dreamed of this. It was slick and wet and hot. And you smiled at him.

Fuck.

He did not care about his deception in this moment. He would fill you with his corruption, his darkness until it flowed from you like a fountain. Until it dripped in pools at your feet.

He moved his fingers against your clit, softly and slowly, “Has anyone touched you like this?” His voice was thick with desire.

You shook your head, but that was not good enough for him. He gently squeezed your throat, and he felt the blood that surged under his touch. One day, he would carve his name into your flesh, and he would lap at the blood that flowed from the wound.

“Use your words,” he mumbled softly.

“No, only you.”

Only him.

He slid his finger inside of you, relishing the sound it made. The wetness and slick on his fingers made him want to taste you, but he couldn't, not tonight. He knew he would spend forever in between your thighs, and he did not have the time for that.

“Fuck, do you hear that?” His finger moved faster, the wet sound of your arousal filling the room. “My sweet one,” he cooed, “fucking soaked at the thought of my cock, huh?”

He breathed heavily, his cock was achingly hard. He was addicted to the feel of your cunt and the sounds it made as he fucked it. The way you backed against his palm, the blissed out look in your eyes, he watched it all intently. He added a second finger and as your lips parted, he hungrily tasted your mouth once more. It was sloppy and wet, his teeth tugging at your lips. He couldn't get enough. Grunts and groans and growls ripped through him as he fucked you with his fingers harder and deeper. His lips trailed to your neck, licking your salty skin and sucking until your skin turned red.

You belonged to him.

You whimpered and gasped, and he needed more of it. He gently rubbed your peaked nipple and that was enough. You were a squirming mess as you came, soaking his hand.

“That's it, that's my girl,” he mumbled softly, his fingers never ceasing. “C'mon sweet girl. Fuck, look at you. Look at that pretty fucking face.”

He watched you intently as your body relaxed and your head hit the door. “That was incredible,” your voice was soft and spent.

He chuckled, his thumb coaxing you to look at him. “Pretty girl, look at me.” You did as he told you, his hands cupping your face. You were so pretty. So beautiful. Especially now, exhausted from how hard you came.

“That's my girl,” he squeezed your cheeks in his hand. “My pretty fucking girl. I need you to look at me, okay, and I need you to be honest. There is nothing more I want right now than your cunt squeezing around my cock but I need to know you want that too.”

“Yes, Halbrand, please.”

And that was all it took.

It was a blur as he moved clothes to the side but the moment his cock slid inside you, any moral dilemma or internal conflict disappeared. Only you mattered. Only how perfect your cunt wrapped around him was important. He held your face so he could watch how you reacted to him and he could tell from your lidded eyes and flush face you felt it all too.

"Fuck,” his breath hitched.“Fuck. Does my cock feel good, sweet one?”

You nodded, but again, that wasn't enough. He needed to hear your voice say it, “No, no, no. Use your words. Let me hear it.”

“Your cock feels good,” you breathed out.

Hearing you say that made his cock twitch inside of you. “Such foul words from such a pretty mouth.” His thumb traced your bottom lip. “I'm going to move now.”

You nodded before catching yourself, “please.”

One day, he'd have to make you beg for him.

He looked down to where your bodies connected and moved, watching his cock fuck your cunt for a moment before his attention turned to you. Your eyes rolled back and lips parted like a cock drunk slut already. His cock drunk slut. The slick sounds filling the room pulled his attention back to where you two met. The way you stretched around him was intoxicating to watch.

“You're taking my cock so well, sweet one.” He kept moving, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Your hips moved to match his thrusts and the fingernails in his skin. You had broken so easily. Given into him so easily. He knew he could take you wherever, knew by the look on your face that you'd be his to fuck whenever he pleased.

“You're mine,” he whispered. “This my fucking cunt, isn't it?”

“My cunt is yours,” you whined.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

He thrusted deep and hard, watching your face. You were his. His alone. No one could have you. No one could dare. He'd burn the world to the ground and everyone with it. He'd drown the world in blood. No sin was too dark for him to commit, not if he ended back here. Deep inside you.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and he couldn't have that. He roughly squeezed your cheeks until your eyes opened.

“Eyes on me. Focus on the feeling. I want to see how good I make you feel. Look at those pretty eyes. Those. Pretty. Fucking. Eyes.” He gasped, his grip on your face tight. You whimpered and arched into him.

Something about how you looked at him in that moment, he realized you owned him. He was yours. No one else's. No elf. No Maiar. There was only you. You were his religion, and this was his worship. He was yours. You owned him. He was ruined for anyone else. Perhaps you were not made for him, but he for you.

“You feel that cock, huh? It's yours, only yours. This is your cock, sweet one. I am yours.”

He could tell you were close, and he was too. How he wished it was his true name falling from your lips. He fucked into you harder and harder.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered, “tell me you love me, and I will come undone.”

He needed it. He needed the release. He was desperate.

“I love you.”

It was music to his ears. Moments later, when your cunt clenched around him and cries ripped through your body, he was soon to follow. His head buried in your neck as his warmth coated you. Your name passed through his lips. He would never be sated. He would always need this.

And later that night, long after you fell asleep, as he caressed your face, he knew he could never go back across the sea. He would stay here with you and prove his redemption to the valar. That he would start a family with you. That he would make you happy. The only thing that mattered more was keeping you safe.

Nothing mattered more than that.

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

What is your opinion on the portrayal of bloodbending vs that of energybending in atla? It might be a stretch but I think because energybending is solely used by Aang, it is not thought of as "evil" as the way bloodbending is.

That might be the most perfectly succinct way to describe the difference between the two bending forms that I have ever seen.

A part of the fact that Aang does nothing to gain the ability to energybend and instead it is simply bestowed upon him at the last second as a cop-out to making a choice, is that this technique, its cost and its consequences are not at all discussed in any form. In “The Puppetmaster” we got an entire episode dedicated to the way water can be harvested from practically anywhere, including the human body, and what it means, with the disturbing visuals of dead Fire Lilies and crumbled sucked-dry trees to drive the point home

and this comes as an extension to the already established manipulation of water in plants that we saw in “The Swamp” and the creative water sources in “The Runaway”. In “The Old Masters” and “Avatar Aang” we get, like, what? a combined 30 seconds of explanation of how energybending works? only it’s more of an inspirational quote than an actual explanation... Honestly, we still don’t know how this works or why it works and why is Aang able to preform this technique in the first place.

Considering the horror narrative of Hama’s story and the atrocities that she committed*, it’s obvious why bloodbending was framed in such a dark and heavy light when it was presented. The fact that is was never touched again except to be used when Katara was at her “darkest” in “The Southern Raiders”, shows what the creators think about this ability. It’s ridiculous to think that in thousands of years of history not a single waterbender besides Hama has ever bloodbent**, or that there is no existing traditions, discussions about it’s possible use in healing, or even taboos about this subject in Water Tribe cultures. But, anyway, the writers just tossed this ability aside and declared it “forbidden” in LoK, so that kids will know just how bad bad bad this bending form is.

Energy bending, on the other hand, never got this treatment, even though it is absolutely horrifying???? and lacking any redeeming quality that I can find like with using bloodbending for healing??? They didn’t bother to go into the depths of horror that is energybending in AtLA, but boy oh boy did they try to in LoK. But instead of actually talking about energybending they did a pretty sinister thing (in my opinion), that feels like it was specifically made so as not to taint the purity of the technique and its wielder, and just copy-pasted the implications of energybending onto bloodbending.

LoK’s first season actually tried to touch on the pain and devastation of what it means to be stripped away from your bending abilities. And even though it was far from perfect and never fully explored or resolved, at the very least they showed us that side. We see how drained and sad that pro-bending player (don’t remember his name) was after losing his bending, we see how heartbreaking Lin’s power-stripping was and what a sacrifice she had to make to ensure that the last airbenders in the world will not lose their abilities, we see how broken Korra is after losing her own bending, even though she still has airbending, and the very very much implied suicidal thoughts that it brought to her. We understand that taking someone’s bending has gravitas, has deep emotional implications. But... we can’t talk about energybending in a bad way, right? So...

HEY KIDS! Did you think ebergybending was a random ability that did whatever the plot needed it to do with no plausible reasoning or explanation? Well! From the people who brought you the Magic of the Pointy Rock, we re-introduce you to bloodbending!! But now! It can take your bending away! For some reason! We don’t know why! It just does!

**Bryke at some point, probably**

So beside shifting the entire discussion from one technique to another, even though only one of them actually does the thing we are talking about, they went so far as to make sure we don’t suspect for a second that what we see is actually energybending, showing Amon/Noatak always positioned behind the person he strips, using only one hand on the forehead

instead of Aang’s position in front of the person, with two hands, one on the forehead and one on the chest (don’t even get me started on what a horrible ending this shit was. I swear if I see one more literal deus ex machina in this franchise I’m gonna scream! oh wait, this is just season 1...)

(Sorry for the low quality of photos. I don’t have LoK for obvious reasons so I had to screenshot these from youtube)

So, in summation, yeah you’re absolutely right. Energybending is specifically and methodically portrayed in a positive way, even when it shouldn’t be, especially in light of and in contrast to bloodbending, a form that gets far too many beatings and more than it deserves, for reasons that I don’t understand at best and I don’t think I want to understand at worst (the fact that this is a Katara-centric ability and her lack of statues in LoK, its connection to Katara’s very much existing brutal and belligerent tendencies that are continually ignored and swept aside for the “dream girl” image, the connection between bloodbending and anti zutara rethoric in tsr... this list isn’t pretty)

----------

* I still don’t understand how Hama’s victims were alive. She kidnapped just one person each month, but the cave was full of people. Did she feed them? cleaned their potty buckets? like what was the point?? to make them live through the pain that she had to live through as a prisoner? how is this sustainable for one old lady? this makes zero sense and drives me crazy to this day. There should have only been one living person, the most recent that was kidnapped, and just skeletons around them. That would have been more logical. And it’s not like skeletons weren’t shown on the show... sorry, I’m rambling (and haven’t seen the episode in years, I hope I remember it correctly).

** Toph’s metal bending is a little different, since obviously metal had to be invented at a certain point so no one could attempt to bend it before that. Human bodies on the other hand have been more than available and full of water since the dawn of humanity, and I doubt there hasn’t been a single waterbender powerful enough who could sense the presence of water in people and, I don’t know, tried to talk to someone about it? also, waterbenders are healers?? they actively know the human body, not just coincidentally? how did no one talk about this before?? and regarding metalbending again, It’s not entirely unreasonable that Toph really was the first to bend metal, since of course there has to be a first in everything. But honestly if you ask me it’s a little... weird. But this is very much off-topic.

[starsscribble]

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

  You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

  “Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes. 

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road. 

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief. 

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

  Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat. 

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick. 

  Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

  And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

  You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on. 

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead. 

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young. 

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive. 

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him. 

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

  The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face. 

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick. 

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder. 

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’ 

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps. 

  And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

  Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were. 

  And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

  Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine. 

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken. 

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

  Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

  The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together. 

  The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house. 

  Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

  You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know. 

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids. 

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home.  Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit. 

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion. 

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

  God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

  You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind. 

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended. 

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time. 

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed. 

  He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world. 

  I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

[sukirichi]

earned it [01]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it.  But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

request. (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + (dumbification, praising kink)

cw. smut, overstimulation, slight dumbification, praising kink, slight degradation, spanking, belt whipping, explicit murder, rough sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), multiple sex scenes, riding, slight angst, veryyy unedited, sex when standing up, sex in pretzel position, dom! gojo, manhandling

notes. 🦋 anon, thanks so much for the request! i hope you love this one, i absolutely poured my heart and soul into this! minus the effort to edit, i’ll just edit this when i’m no longer sick lol

series masterlist

There he was again.

Working in a high-class restaurant located in the heart of the city meant you were no stranger to seeing people of power and titles, but he never failed to make everyone stop in their tasks every time he came around.

You don’t know his name, much less his usual orders since his usual table – middle 98 – wasn’t in your rotation. But you’re held captive in his presence, attention drawn to his broad shoulders clad in what seemed like a hand-stitched three piece suit, his striking white hair falling down in smooth tendrils. There’s something about the way he walks – confident doesn’t begin to describe it – that makes everyone surrounding him feel like they’re merely spectators to the enigma that was him, and he carries this observation proudly in his shoulders, that mischievous smile never absent from his face.

Your co-worker tugs at your sleeve, nearly knocking the empty wine glasses away from your tray. Barely catching them as you falter, you bow down to them in apology. No matter how intriguing the mysterious midnight comer was, you were still working. You needed to keep your head focused and in the game.

Hours pass by of shifting from one table to another, your hands beyond cramped from scribbling down such intricate orders. It’s a miracle you were hired in a place as luxurious as this in the first place when you couldn’t pronounce, much less spell the main dishes, but you proved through determination and hard work that the miracle was also accompanied by your grit. It didn’t matter that you were the youngest part-timer with little to no experience – unexpected things always happened when you’re backed in a corner, leaving you with no choice but to follow through.

This corner was nothing less than the struggle to make ends meet. While you’re lucky to have gotten accepted in one of the top state universities, there still came the issue of tuition fees, plus dorm occupations.

You don’t have the privilege to complain or whine that your experiences are probably not on par with what they expect of you, so you have to do your best; you have to keep pushing no matter how hard it gets and you’re barely awake for class the next day.

Clocking out, you bid goodbye to your co-workers and thank them for their hard work, about to leave through the back door when you hear his voice.

Your gaze lands on him from outside the kitchen, body twisted in the direction of where he sat, long legs crossed one another. He’s thanking the waiter for the wine, and you wince, because it isn’t just any wine. That’s one of the drinks locked in the special cellar because of its hefty price, yet there he was, swirling the red liquid around in his glass as if the amount of zeroes never bothered him. He’s reading something from his tablet, head tilted to the side as he drinks, and that’s when you see it.

It’s so miniscule you would’ve believed it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you’ve seen in this class during one of your laboratory practices, the burn marks on your wrist a painful reminder of your carelessness.

Your boss’ shouts of warning fall onto deaf ears as you push past the double doors, feet moving on its own. The edge of the glass makes contact with his lips, gray lashes flattering across his cheeks, while time and sound becomes nothing but background noise to you. Your cry is inaudible when your hand pushes the glass away from his grip, the sounds of it shattering into pieces like a wake-up call to both of you.

For the first time since you’ve met him, the faintest look of surprise crosses over his face. His hands remain into a reflexive hold of the now missing glass, azure eyes cutting through yours.

You bow down to apologize – you can’t believe you’ve just done that and how his suit was stained and his pants soaked – but the words that left his lips stun you beyond disbelief, effectively freezing you in your state. His voice holds the same iciness as the blue of his pupils, but to you – just for you – there’s a tinge of awe behind them.

“Odd,” he says, “To think my life would be saved by you.”

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutched on the blanket covering your bare frame. There’s sweat forming on your hairline as you look around, wincing at the sliver of light passing through the curtains. Silver, ceiling length draperies obscure the view of the city skies outside, a huge reminder of where you are now – somewhere between the past and the future that’s about to come – and the king-sized bed you lay on almost feels like a dream.

Right. It’s been two years since you’ve met Satoru, the once mysterious customer turned into lover, an arrangement between financial aid and companionship solidifying your relationship with him now.

Your face burns at the sight of your clothes scattered all over your shared room. Your lace panties somehow end up on the chandeliers, the expensive material of your silk dress about to slide off the humongous TV and your bra hanging off the doorknob.

The light ache between your legs does nothing to appease your embarrassment. Even after two years of being with Satoru, it’s still difficult to believe he’s chosen you of all people.

He could’ve had anyone he wants. Not only is he beautiful, young, successful, and smart, he’s also an absolutely god in the sheets, your throbbing core attesting to his never ending array of his skills. Truly, Gojo Satoru was perfect, so much so that you pale in comparison to him no matter how much he’s assured you you’re the only he has eyes on.

It doesn’t make sense to you, but does it have to?

Love never required a logical reason for it to blossom, and you left it at that, fearful that it may just ruin whatever happened between the two of you. Besides, if Satoru wants you, then who were you to question that?

You swing your legs off the side of the bed to make him breakfast, but your legs shake upon contact to the floor, still very much sore after last night’s events.

Satoru’s been away for work for three days, and even though it wasn’t that much of a distance, he still acted like it’s been forever. He sure took his time with you, making you cum three times just with his tongue and fingers alone. He’s a cheeky and mischievous man; there’s no telling whether his words are just sweet lies or plain facts, but if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Satoru keeps his promises to heart. If he says he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk the next day, he means it, and now you’re left groaning back onto the bed.

You’re thankful that it’s a weekend. Had it been a school day, it’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass. No matter how much he’s covered your school fees, you still won’t risk missing a day.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend clothed in nothing but his boxers, the smile on his face huge at seeing you glare at him. “Aw, baby,” he coos, sliding himself next to you, carrying a tray of pancakes topped with blueberries with him. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulder and laughs into your air when you grumble at the soreness, which he tries to kiss away. “Sorry not sorry for last night. It’s not my fault I’m so addicted to you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, fighting back that stupid fluttering feeling in your chest. Your attention is diverted to the luscious, fluffy pancakes, and your brows furrow at the sight. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at him; his energy was always off the charts even after fucking you into oblivion. Thanking him under your breath, you reach for the breakfast, eternally grateful that it’s breakfast in bed because you can’t walk anywhere right now. However, Satoru pries your hands away from the fork, making you lean back instead as he spoon feeds you.

It’s a little humiliating – and he’s basking in this judging from the smirk he wears – but you give in anyway. Unlike him, your stamina isn’t monstrous. You’re still a human and you’re utterly tired, the glare endless through mouthfuls of the pancake. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” he retorts, smacking a kiss right at your lips.

You complain harder, ever so annoyed that you could never seem to throw him off guard and have the upper hand for once. Satoru eases the frown on your face by kissing you harder, his hand cradling your neck. He’s a fucking tease; his tongue languid and sensual as he tastes the honey coating your lips, sucking your bottom lip inside his mouth before nipping at it.

At the back of your mind, you’re wondering how each moment with him results into touching. Not that you really mind, of course, your stomach only flares up with heat at the thought he wants you just as much as you crave him.

Breakfast is soon forgotten right after seven bites as Satoru leans back against the headboard, thumb soothing circles at your hipbone to guide you on top of him.

He pulls away to breathe, a thin thread of saliva and honey between your lips present, and it’s so erotic that his eyes darken with lust, hands gripping a little tighter. You’re still bare on top of him, hardened breasts on display, but he holds himself back with heavy breaths, not wanting to ruin you further than he already has.

Satoru’s lips lands on your shoulder instead, thumb grazing under the weight of your breasts. He’s kissing you everywhere, almost as if he expects the flutter of his lips to heal you. You gladly let him taste you as he pleases, neck tilted to the side while you catch your breath.

The transition of him from an absolute freak in bed to the caring, compassionate boyfriend he is never fails to give you whiplash.

“How’s your studies?” he murmurs into your skin, his touch feather-like in caressing your back. You feel the hairs stand up at where he grazes them, shivering at the sensuality and tenderness he holds you with. “Doing good? My sweetheart still top of her class?”

“Hmm,” you hum back, planting yourself firm in his lap. He’s already hard under you, his cock twitching when your bare cunt presses on top of his tip, but he controls himself, focusing on your state instead. “My grades are tip-top, all thanks to your support,” Satoru smiles when you’re the one placing kisses all over his face this time, his giggles almost child-like.

Time flies by as you lay there in his arms. You’re lulled back into sleep at the sound of his heart beat, and just as you’re dozing off, Satoru pats your ass. “Baby,” he calls out, “Let me wash you first, then we’ll cuddle afterwards. What do you think about that?”

“That’d be great, I feel sticky.”

Satoru laughs, pulling panicked squeals from you when he suddenly hoisted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. He kicks the door open before turning the heater on in the Jacuzzi, placing you under the shower first.

You close your eyes under the sprinkle of water, hands splayed all over his chest. Your legs are still wobbling, no thanks to him railing you as if there was no tomorrow, but he holds you upright, kneading his hands into your hair then washing every crevice of your body. When you open your eyes, you see him kneeling down to rub the loofah all over your legs, a slight pinch in his brows from sheer focus.

Your heart beats loudly on your chest, unable to process that the Gojo Satoru is on his knees, his touch nothing less of worshipping as if you were a divine being in his eyes.

It makes you breathe sharply as his face comes up before your core, his tongue darting out for a moment before he looks away, focusing on cleaning you up afterwards. His control and care for your well-being leaves you speechless, leaves you breathless, leaves you wanting him more and more and more that you’re kissing him again the moment he brings you both to his Jacuzzi.

He’s taken his boxers off to enjoy the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the fuzz of bubbles foaming up at your breasts only enticing him to kiss you with equal fervent passion.

You’re grinding down on his dick, his length encased between your lips that are extremely warm in comparison to the cool water. Finally, Satoru is stuttering beneath you, little whines leaving his breath as he kneads your ass, resisting the urge to slap the smooth flesh.

“Satoru,” you moan, “N-need you now, please.”

Fuck, his name on your lips mixed with your moans are enough to make him want to lose his restraint and just fuck you hard and deep there. He growls at how unaware you are of your effect on him, and he’s nothing short of starving in his kisses, never getting tired of tasting you over and over again. He wants to keep kissing you until your scent and taste is imprinted on his skin, to carry you around with him even when you’re not there, because he loves you, and he’s never loved anyone this much before. Especially for people like him, love was nothing but a myth.

Everything is a fantasy with you, a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. If you were to ask him to give up everything for you this instant, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

His heart is enslaved by your existence, and he nods, helping you lift your hips up to align his cock to your entrance. He takes note of your soreness as you slowly sink down on his cock, swallowing your whimpers through open-mouthed kiss. You’re shaking inside his arms, tiny scratches mixed with mewls making its way on his chest, further adding to the litter of scars already painted on his body.

Your head lands on his shoulder the second he bottoms out. Satoru groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering down on him, so warm and so tight that he has to lean his head back on the headrest just to catch his breath.

“You ride me, baby,” he manages through pants. “I’ll let you set the pace – do what’s comfortable with you.”

Your jaw clenches at the same time you clamp down on him one more time, eliciting another sinful moan from your lover. A lazy smirk graces your face as you ride him slowly, the image of the almighty Gojo Satoru falling apart at your ministrations burned at the back of your mind. You’ll replay this memory every time he leaves for work again, and the dreadful thought of having to watch him leave one more time fuels you to bounce on him harder, nails dug into his shoulder.

Satoru winces at the slight sting but doesn’t stop you anyway; he’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he’s a master of that and many more in more ways than one, though you didn’t know that – and he’ll never let you know that.

His eyes snap open at the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the water sloshing out the Jacuzzi. He’s met with the sight of you clutching the edges of the tub, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fuck yourself harder on his cock. Your breasts bounce right in front of his eyes, tempting him to latch a mouth around it, which he does, the sudden flicking of his warm tongue on your nipples driving you to the edge.

Your soreness becomes a hazy memory of the past with each slide down his dick, thighs burning from the exertion. Satoru is lapping up your breasts and palming the other expertly, his breath hot on your skin.

Something familiar coils into your lower abdomen with each hard thrust, and you throw your head back, moaning his name as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You’re growing tired; he can tell from the way you’re barely lifting your hips, but you’re so close, so near, that Satoru takes it upon himself to push you both right where you wanted to be.

Your moan comes out breathless the moment Satoru grips at your hips, snapping his hips upwards at the same time he guides your body to crush down on him. He’s the one controlling your body, but you’re falling on top of him with no reserve, your weight slamming down to his groin in full force that he’s faltering. Satoru is entranced by the motion of your hips gyrating around the head of his cock, the wavering grin on your face a telltale you’re enjoying the act of destroying him, but he lets you – it’s only fair after the countless times he’s done the same with you. But oh, he’ll have you again and again, and he proves his endless desire for you by forcing himself deep to your most sensitive spots, the glimpse of your mouth hanging open as you come making his cock twitch.

Satoru squeezes your hips as he situates you flat on his cock, groaning as he came in thick spurts. You mewl, scratching at his chest as he rides his high out with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers at the top of your hair, well-aware that your oversensitivity is clouding your mind. But he can’t help it, not when you feel so good around him like this. “Just a little more, I’ll be – fuck – right there, oh yeahhh,” he drawls out breathlessly, his cock twitching with the last strings of cum until he grows boneless inside you.

Satoru pulls his cock out, chest heaving up and down from that earth-shattering orgasm. In all honesty, he’s confident he could give you an even better one, but your lids are already fluttering close that he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple as a silent you did well.

Somewhere through your half-awake state, you manage to card your fingers through his hair, voice small and weak as you ask, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Satoru’s eyes lour with something unreadable, and he’s thankful you don’t get to see the sudden glooming of his face. He gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his rippling reflection in the water. In his eyes, he sees the truth – he sees a monster holding an innocent angel he lives to protect – the truth he wants to conceal. He can’t even fathom the possibility of you finding out about who he really is, much less what he does that enables him to provide you with everything you need.

He’s the demon himself, caressing someone as pure as you in his arms, his eyes and true self sinister except for the gentle kisses he leaves at the shell of your ear.

If it keeps you safe, he doesn’t mind becoming even more of a monster if it means keeping you safe.

So he keeps you right where you can’t witness the slight moments of vulnerability in which his horns reveal itself, hugging you tight and possessively in the fear he’ll lose the only thing that matters most to him.

“I have a meeting tonight,” is all he says, is what he always says.

He’s mysterious and aloof, too vague every time you inquire him about what he does for a living. Usually, you’d feel worried or even wary that maybe he doesn’t trust you as much as you originally thought, but you’re too tired to question him further, and he takes advantage of your weakness wholeheartedly. All to keep you safe.

Satoru closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, no longer bothered by the fact each step he took is getting him closer and closer to a point of no redemption.

He’s not worried about that anymore, not when his salvation is right in his arms, wrapping him with your love and false sense of safety that it becomes the lie he feeds himself every night just to keep going on.

“I just want to be with you a little longer.”

This time around, Satoru tells the truth.

The rust of blood dripping off the concrete walls is as normal to Satoru as breathing is for everyone else. He doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t scrunch his nose at the stench, and he doesn’t waver from swinging his arm back, the heavy weight of the wrench already wielded in his hand.

Someone dared come up to their base to face him head-on.

He has to admit, he was impressed with their guts, but now he feels empty save for a slight sliver of irritation at the man’s bloodied face. He’s panting after coughing up blood so much, his face unrecognizable after the beating Satoru gave him, teeth splattered on the floor. Satoru’s right hand man, Geto, stands at the side, silently inspecting his nails.

They’d been going at this for hours now, yet they seemed to be right where they were at the beginning. Torture was usually an effective method of gathering information, but this hostage seemed to be on the same par of monstrous as Satoru from his unyielding nature, even had the audacity to laugh.

Satoru stops in his tracks, a brow raised at what seemed to be so funny.

“Everyone spoke highly of you,” he spat his blood out, his busted eye twitching under Satoru’s stone cold gaze. “They told me you were barbaric, ruthless, the most feared mafia boss out here, but you’re pathetic now, aren’t you? You’re not the same Six Eyes who sees all they claimed you to be,” Satoru watched warily when his hostage smirked, the same one he always wore just moments from bashing the skull out of someone. It’s because he’s so familiar with it that Satoru immediately puts up his walls, Geto stepping beside him with his gun gleaming under his coat. As expected, the man does not falter, his laughter merely increasing in volume. “You’ve grown soft, Gojo. Your little lover is your weakness, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, what’s stopping you from ending my life already? Afraid that if she finds out, she might push you away?” When Gojo doesn’t answer, the man clicks his tongue. “I fucking knew it.”

Geto moves quicker than his boss. He draws his gun and aims it right between his eyes, only to be stopped by Satoru’s indifferent tone. “Stop.”

“But boss-”

“Why did you come here?” he stabs the man in the thigh with a knife, his screams of pain alleviating enough to distract the painful clenching of his chest. “I don’t believe you came here just to prove the rumors true. Now you tell me, why have you come here?” Satoru slams his fist down on the knife, the blade pushing past through muscles and hitting deep to the bone. “Answer me.”

“Th-there’s a drive in my pocket. Open it and you’ll see.”

The man doesn’t stop squirming as Geto rummages through his jacket, nodding to his boss once they got hold of the slick black device. Geto immediately plugs it to the monitor, several photographs popping up in a few seconds, and those few seconds were all it took to bring the infamous mafia boss down.

Because they weren’t just photos, they were photos of you.

Of you laughing with your friends, of you hugging Satoru’s arm in one of your dates, of you kissing him under the streetlight and even an intimate photo of you going down on him while he’s driving. It must be taken from a street cam judging from the blurry quality, but it’s crystal clear to him anyway, and Satoru’s mind muddles with thoughts darker than he once believed he’s capable of. He feels his anger bloom like fire licking up at his skin, his nerves bursting through, and he’s so obvious, so predictable that his hostage guffaws.

“I was right, I was right-!”

“You mean her?” his voice drips down with so much indifference, it shocks even he himself. His hostage shuts up at the sudden change of Satoru’s aura, that dark, fearsome aura that had people begging him to kill them as an act of mercy coming back to life. The man clamps his mouth shut, chills running down his spine because it’s no longer the same Satoru he mocked pulling the knife out from his thigh.

No, this is the Gojo Satoru, the devil incarnate himself, and he’s made the huge mistake of believing he would be affected by a mere woman. Satoru reads the fear on his face too easily, not bothering to hide his sigh as he twirls the bloodied blade between his fingers.

“She’s nothing to me. She’s just another bitch, another paid pussy. Favorite of the month, you could say, but nothing of worth to me,” he announces, ignoring Geto who’s stiffened up at the corner. “Did you really come all the way here just to see if you could find my weakness? If so, then your organization is a lot dumber than I thought, and I hate people who waste my time.”

“No, no, please, I was just jok-” his eyes widen when Satoru snaps his fingers, and Geto rushes to his boss with his gun. “Please, no, I didn’t think she was just a bitch-”

The man never got to finish his words.

A loud ‘bang’ echoes around the room, followed by a slight snap when his head falls backwards. Blood drips from the hole sitting in between his head, the aim perfect and flawless even with Satoru not looking back. He’s still Gojo Satoru, leader of the Gojo Mafia Clan, and he’s not the most feared leader in history for no reason. He’s always been blessed with a physical prowess and fighting abilities that allowed him to take on other clans by himself, but he’s changing. There’s now a chink in his armour, and people are starting to notice.

If he doesn’t do anything about it soon…

“Sir,” Geto begins, following the rushed footsteps of Satoru outside the hall, where his security is lined up with guns poised and ready to risk their lives for him. This was his power, this was his legacy – and this is who he was.

A killer. A monster. A demon – he’s everything you wouldn’t love.

“I know, Geto, I know,” Satoru says through gritted teeth, his bloody hands clenched into fists. He already knows what he’s supposed to do; he doesn’t need another reminder of it. “You don’t have to tell me anything I know of already. Now send that body back as a warning. I’m going home for tonight.”

Geto is stunned, and he’s got every right to be. After all, in his boss’ 28 years of existence, not once has he called anywhere or anyone home.

He’s always claimed himself to be irredeemable, to be unworthy of love and forgiveness, but slowly yet surely, he was beginning to look at life differently after meeting you, after loving you. The word ‘home’ was never in his vocabulary, and yet, every time your face comes up in his mind, it’s the only word he can think of.

He came home a lot earlier than you expected him to. You’re hunched over the table, legs swinging back and forth as you finish your school packets when the door chimes with the familiar beep. It’s only midnight and he’s already here, the excitement manifesting in you as you jump off the stools, running to greet your beloved.

Satoru ends up as a blur of frantic hands tugging his tie off, his scowl seething with anger and regret pouring off of him in waves.

Before you could say anything, he has you pinned on the wall, one knee inside your legs to keep you upright. Satoru is kissing you, hard, one hand raised to keep both your wrists planted above your head. You’re moaning at his aggressiveness, the sounds encouraged by his erection poking at you from your silk robe.

It’s not rare for him to come home in need of a fuck to clear his head, but…something feels different this time around. He feels different, almost like an entirely new person.

Satoru pulls away to press his forehead to yours, his eyes hooded with lust and lips bruised from the kiss. You’re confuzzled; your lover is the exact same person standing before you, the same person grazing at your breasts until your nipples harden at his touch, so then why does it feel like the person who left and came back are entirely two different people.

“Can I fuck you, angel? Please?”

Your words die down your throat.

Satoru’s never said please before, much less look this devastated as he asks to have you. He always says it with exuberant confidence, his present frown usually a smile. There’s no trace of happiness or even playfulness in his eyes this time around. Instead, they’re filled with fear – desperation, even.

You say yes before you realize it, but it’s enough for Satoru. It feels like he’s only been waiting for that word before he goes on a rampage, for his lips are on yours again, patting your thighs as a silent command to jump. You follow his orders and kiss him feverishly until it becomes a battle for dominance, tongue and teeth clashing against the other. Your hands are tugging at his hair from how rough he’s grabbing at your hips, spanking the sensitive flesh that draws a whimper at you.

You don’t know how Satoru manages to find his way to the leather couch even with his eyes closed, but he takes you there, no longer gentle as he throws your weight down. You’re falling, falling, falling as your knees hit the material, cheeks pressed against the headrest. You turn back to kiss him one more time, but Satoru keeps you down there, the sound of his belt unbuckling reaching your ears.

Satoru wraps the leather around his palm, kissing you flat on the lips just as he slaps the material to your ass. He’s pushed your robe to bunch up at your waist, groaning into your mouth upon the realization you’ve been walking around the house butt-naked.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he nips at your lips, feeding off of the pained moans coating his senses at each whip of his belt. “No underwear while I’m gone – you’re begging to be fucked, angel. You’re so filthy,” he swings his arm back to extend the length of the belt, squeezing your ass before he whips it harder against your flesh. You scream at the contact, nails ripping the leather couch and a slight puddle of drool on your lips.

“S-Satoru!”

“What?” he snaps, gripping your jaw, his eyes replaced with something animalistic as he stares at you. The love is gone in his eyes, your lover almost unrecognizable from the way he whips you again. You jut forwards, arousal pooling and dripping down his sofa. His eyes trail down your gushing pussy, nostrils flared before throwing his belt to the other side of the room. The buckle hits one of his expensive vases until it comes crashing down, the sound of it nostalgic to the first time you met him. “Can’t talk, huh, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” you blurt out, wiggling your hips sensationally at his already throbbing dick. “Please fuck me.”

You suppose you should’ve been more careful with your words, because Satoru lives to please, and if you tell him to do something, you can expect he’ll give his everything.

He knocks the wind out of your lungs by squeezing your waist, sliding himself into you one, full thrust. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but it’s too fast, too early, that the sudden stretch is painfully pleasurable. Satoru delivers one more smack to your flesh that makes it bounce, his growls loud and ragged as he pounds into you.

You’re clutching at the backrest, eyes shut tight as all your attention diverts to the heat in your core. You wish you could see his face, hold his hand or see the way he admires you while he fucks you, but you can’t see anything. Tonight, you could only feel.

Each thrust sends the couch a little ways forward, his balls slapping against your ass. He’s cursing left and right, more focused on getting his anger out his system than pleasuring you. It’s a drastic change to your lover’s behavior in bed, yet you can’t find any muscle in your body that denies this. Satoru can be rough, but he never really goes all out. One way or another, he manages to hold back for your sake, but his mind’s a mess, the voices in his head screaming louder that it drowns out the need to make you cum first.

He’s relentless, grip bruising the harder he fucks into you. You know you’re gone in the instance Satoru plants one foot beside you, the angle causing him to hit deeper.

Satoru ends up fucking into your cervix with each hard thrust, fisting his hand under your robe while he slams forward. It’s so intense that your vision blurs, a faltered grip on the couch. You’re falling limp under his ministrations, his dick successfully hitting that spot that has you seeing white. You’re screaming, babbling nonsense while Satoru uses you as his own fuck toy, pushing past your tight walls and relishing in the way you hug his cock snugly.

He came first, his thrusts growing sloppy and stuttering for a moment. Satoru pulls out so quickly from you that you’re left gasping for air at the sudden emptiness, and that’s when you feel his cum landing on your lower back.

You’re too slow, too weak – or perhaps he’s too strong, too fast – to react properly to his movements.

Satoru doesn’t let you catch your breath as he throws you over his shoulder, your face nearly smacking his ass. You feel dizzy at this position, and the voice in your head tells you that you should be scared he’s manhandling you like this, but seeing him this way – so reveled, so angry, so out of control – has you rubbing your legs, core dripping at the thought of how he’s going to use you tonight.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t head for the bedroom. You were so sure he’d take you there, but Satoru lays you flat on the marble countertops of the kitchen, the cold biting into your skin.

Satoru doesn’t waste another second before he spreads your legs open and dives into your cunt. You squeal, legs instinctively closing around his head when you feel his tongue lick a flat stripe at your pussy, but he only pushes them apart, encircling your ankles hard to keep you open.

You know he’s strong, but you’re still surprised that he’s capable of rendering you motionless, powerless like this. Your mind wanders off to a dangerous path in wonders of how else he’s hurt someone like this – whether intentionally or unintentionally – but he immediately pulls you back to reality when he sucks your clit, his eyes direct with yours.

His hands trail upwards to squeeze at your breasts, the immediacy of it all firing up that tight knot in your stomach that he failed to snap a while ago.

Satoru’s nose rubs at your skin the harder he sucks at your clit, tugging it upwards until you’re whining around him. It’s always so erotic to see his pretty face buried in your cunt like this; you’ll never get used to him eating you like you’re his last meal. He laps up your juices like a starved man, his tongue prodding between your lips and slurping everything you offer him, one of his arms retracting to slide two fingers inside your sopping hole.

You moan at the sudden intrusion. The sounds of your moans mixing in with the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy is extremely embarrassing, even more so because you’re actually gushing down his palm.

Your juices spread all over his face, and Satoru is greedy, thirsty for more. He pumps harder into you, curling them against the ridges of your walls, and finally, finally you’re there. Your orgasm washes down on you violently that Satoru has to keep a palm flat down on your stomach, his tongue not ceasing from lapping up your juices. You’re convulsing from his hold, stuttered moans rewarding to his ears.

He doesn’t stop coaxing your wetness out of your cunt, his fingers working you out and easing the previous pain of when he entered you without warning. Satoru leans up to help you sit up, his lips colliding with yours for a much gentler kiss this time around.

You cup his cheeks, feeling him slide your body across the counters. Your arousal that he’s failed to clean up remains there until it spreads all over the back of your thighs, the feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but you’re more focused in his tongue dancing with yours. He tastes sweet – like mint and sugar – but his moans are sweeter, the sound dulcet and making you weak on your knees as you taste yourself on him.

Satoru tugs you forward, panic flooding you when you feel nothing under you. You feel like you’re falling again and you immediately encircle your arms around his neck, but he chuckles through the kiss, quick reflexes put into work as he carries you.

The kiss is sloppy yet heated, both of you unable to focus properly when he’s growing hard again. You expect him to take you to the bedroom to finish things for once and for all, but he’s impatient – this much you know the moment he walked in, but somehow keep forgetting – wrapping your legs to his waist instead before slipping inside you.

You mewl into his mouth, eyes snapping open to look at him nervously. His legs are slightly bent as he bounces you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

In this position, he’s hitting deep each time you slide down his cock. Unable to help it, you graze your foreheads with his to stare him deep in the eyes, the usual passion in them slowly returning with each thrust. The work is placed on his shoulders as he holds you close to him, the mind numbing sensation of your erect nipples grazing his sensitive skin enticing him to rut harder into you, all to enjoy the way you fall apart above him.

You’ve been rendered speechless, mouth fallen open to release breathy gasps. Hell, you’re unable to moan, not when his cock is sliding in and out of you so lusciously that you feel every vein protruding from the base of his length. How he manages to walk while fucking you is beyond your comprehension by now, but he seems to be having the time of his life based on his grunting, continuously fucking deep into your pussy so much that he refuses to let you go. Satoru kicks the door to your room open and places you gently on the bed this time, trapping you in his arms but with enough space to let you crawl back up on the bed. You stop as your head hits the pillows, and the mood immediately changes.

Satoru stays still inside you, his large hand cupping your face while you both catch your breath. There’s something unreadable about him. He feels young yet old at the same time, giving you the impression that perhaps he’s still just a child trapped in an old man’s body.

There’s so much fear swirling through the blueness of his eyes that you frown, marveling about what happened to him.

In the intimacy of the moment, you swipe the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek, smiling up at him in hopes he’d realize you’re always there for him. “Satoru,” you whisper, breath hitching as he starts to move. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Satoru props you sideways, your leg flat on the bed while he hooks the other one over his thigh that is spread beside your body. You have to tilt all the way to the side just to see his face, your hand now bent in an awkward position. Although he doesn’t answer vocally, his gentle thrusts are enough to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it – he never does, and he never will – so you shut your mouth, focusing on the pleasure of him hitting deep.

Your heart aches for him. You wish he could tell you everything, to share you his worries, and you can’t enjoy him fucking you too much because you’re crying, chest clenching that he’s growing distant no matter how close he is.

You don’t want to lose him.

“Hey,” he easily reads you, leaning down to flutter his eyes at you. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, okay, angel? But you’re making me feel good, you always do, so let me do the same for you,” Satoru kisses your tears away, the saltiness of it making him fuck harder into you, all to ignore the screaming inside his head.

He wants to hold you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to keep loving you like this, he wants to be with you, he wants to touch you – but it’s not that easy.

It’ll only keep getting harder in the future, but the future isn’t now. Today is the present, and it’s even more precious because you’re there with him. Right now, you’re untouchable by anyone but him, and it’s only him that gets to fuck you like this, only him who gets to see you whimper under him, only him who gets to kiss you hard while he fucks you deep.

He wants to fuck you hard enough that you never forget the feeling of him inside you.

Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he really is demonic, because he wishes that after this you won’t be satisfied with anyone else. He wants to fuck you hard enough you’ll keep wishing it was him, that it’s him who’s hitting your sweet spots and making you see stars, that it’s only him who can make you feel this good.

Satoru interlaces his hand with yours as he feels you tighten around him, the clamping down of your walls a telltale you’re near. You’re moaning, eyes dropping to where your bodies are connected. His cock is slicked with your arousal and he’s still thrusting to passionately, his hands touching you everywhere with the same ardor and impatience one would have when they know time is limited. And Satoru knows better than everyone that no amount of money can buy enough time in this world, because if such was a case, then he’d have done so long ago.

He silences his demons with the only way he knows how to; by kissing you and burying himself deep inside you, snapping his hips angrily as if they would counterattack his fears. Your hold on him is slipping from the sweat dripping down your bodies, but he doesn’t stop, his cock further stretching you out because he’s growing impossibly bigger.

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you, the motion pulling a gasp from you. He bites down on your shoulder, one hand gripping your other leg open as he grunts into your skin, his thrusts focused more on power than speed. He hits deep each time, the sensation of him sliding out slowly only to push back in vigorously to make your pussy throb too intense for you to even form proper sentences. He’s getting nearer, his thrusts growing more fervent and impatient. Satoru thumbs at your clit to coax you into following him, and with his thumb rubbing your clit and flicking it side to side, you end up finishing before him, your moan high-pitched and broken. He eagerly swallows the sound by releasing after you, refusing to pull out even as he feels both your cum trickle afterwards.

The sensitivity is too much for you that you have to push him away, and he complies, falling at your side but not before wrapping an arm around you first. His heartbeat is pumping under you, your hands tracing circles at his chest while he holds you impossibly close, littering kisses at the crown of your head.

It’s clear that something is wrong, but he won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. You know firsthand how annoying it is when someone can’t respect your space, so you close your eyes and let sleep overtake you instead, basking in the after sex glow and relieved only by his touch.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, he can tell you another time.

“Satoru,” you murmur seconds before falling asleep.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s something wrong…you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lies through gritted chest, pushing your head deeper into his sweaty chest. He has a habit of doing this; of pushing you close so you don’t see his face, so you don’t see the tears streaming down his face that are soon lost in your hair. You think that maybe he’s just breathing hard after work and fucking you, but he’s torn inside, feeling too broken that not even you could help fix his heart.

But you’re still there, and that’s enough for him. So he keeps his lips planted on your forehead all the way until the first sliver of light extends its fingertips over the horizon, the orange glow bathing you in an ethereal light while his body remained in the darkness.

It serves as a painful reminder that he’ll never be worthy of your love, that he’ll never earn the blessing that is your heart, that you’ll never truly love him the way he’s always wanted to be loved. Maybe now you think you do, but it will change once the darkness reveals his true nature, and the thought of you pushing him away hurts a lot more than having never been loved in the first place. To him, it’s a thousand times worse when you get a taste of something, only to have it pulled away from you.

And the longer he stays there next to you, he can’t help but picture your smile soon turned into a look of fear, your body bruised with marks and blood instead of his love bites.

They call him the notorious mafia leader who bows and yields to no one, but it’s not true. Gojo Satoru most definitely has his weakness, one that came into a form of his lover, and he can’t handle that you’d get hurt because of him someday that he believes it’s just better to let things be this way.

He’s silent from when he leaves the bed, refusing to look at you one last time as a final resolve of whatever is left in his strength. He quickly dresses himself and picks up your discarded robe on the ground, folding it and leaving it on the counter before shutting the door, the sound of his footsteps mute compared to the frantic beating of his heart.

Geto is already there at the lobby, his face empty yet eyes filled with sympathy. He opens the door for Satoru who slides in wordlessly, his lips pulled into a thin line while he punches in zeroes upon zeroes.

The words transaction complete flashes before him, and for a split second, he gets the urge to run back inside to hold you. But Geto clears his throat from the passenger’s seat, nodding at his phone that Satoru visibly deflates. His hands are numb the whole time he deletes your photos, your videos, and erases your contact, but it only hits hard that its over once he chucked the phone out the window, watching through his sunglasses as the device is crushed under another speeding car.

Its over, its over, its over – it keeps chanting at his head, and he wants to punch himself, wants to never see another daylight again every time he imagines you waking up alone and unable to find him. He wants to be sad, and he is, but there’s that relief blossoming inside him anyway that whispers its over, you’re safe that he can’t help but think…its okay, its over.

With that, Satoru rolls up the windows and nods at the driver who’s been waiting for him the whole time. He makes eye contact with a proud Geto from the rearview mirror, concealing his heartbreak with a laugh as he crosses his leg over the other.

“It’s over,” he says more to himself, “Let’s go.”

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. That’s the reason he got this far in life in the first place, he’s got his tenacity and dedication to thank for. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins as well, and he also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

And the punishment of loving you – only to have you slip from his arms – is a punishment he’ll wholeheartedly accept.

[starglow-xx]

Hello! How’s your day! :) Can I request a platonic gn big sibling reader who’s patient and kind for Dasani headcannons? Here’s a virtual hug

٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

dazai with a patient & kind older sibling

(platonic!) dazai osamu x gn! reader

genre: platonic, fluff, angst (?)

tw: mentions of suicide

heyy! sorry that this took so long to get to! there was a lot going on, and i had (and still have) a lot of writer’s block. anyways, i hope you’re doing well, and i hope you like this! and here’s a return to your virtual hug! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

also! these only take place before all the kids join the agency! i kinda enjoyed writing these so if i haven’t already by the time my requests open, if anyone would like another part (?) when the kids are already in the agency, feel free to request (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

and just to clarify, requests are closed! this is just an old request from a while ago :)

these hcs are kind of all over the place so yeah (°▽°) i’ll probably maybe edit them later

i don’t know where to start so let’s just borrow that long lost sibling trope yeah?

the two of you had separated when you were younger, you ended up being a frequently transfered foster kid (all over japan) and osamu in the well...yk, the port mafia

when he was in the mafia he hadn’t bothered trying to look for you

i mean what would you, his ever so kind and understanding older sibling want with their now (or maybe he was always) cold blooded, dark younger brother?

he was a mafia exec for goodness sakes

he was just saving himself the time and the eventual rejection

or perhaps, he didn’t want to drag you into this

he’s not quite so sure now to be completely honest

he’s had plenty of time to think during his 2 years in hiding and more than he’d like to admit, he thought back to you

in his head, there were multiple dazai osamus; the mafia one, the one around chuuya (the same one with oda and ango once upon a time), the one around the agency and many more

if he ever did come across you again, who was he supposed to be?

he certainly wasn’t the same person he was way back then

way back when the two of you were children

way back before the suicidal tendencies and thoughts became much more real

he was sure that if you were with him now, you’d tell him that he could be whoever he wishes to be around you as long as he feels and remembers that you’d always be there

whether he would accept it or not

he could already see the patient and warm look you’d give him, and the small swirls of sadness in your (e/c) eyes

as if someone like him deserves the kindness

it’s been two years; two more years he can add since oda died, ango’s betrayal, and add to your absence

he’s twenty now, and already part of the ada, and finally starting to settle in somewhat

knowing that you were abt 3 years older than him, he mentally noted to himself that you’d be 22 now, almost 23

due to the frequency of your transfered care, and messed up system, even if he had wanted to track you down, it would be difficult

especially adding in the factors where you could’ve gotten adopted, changed your name when you became of age, maybe even died, the possibilities were endless

so he pushed finding you to the back of his mind

so he certainly wasn’t expecting on bumping into you during a job

you had become a primary school teacher and some of the kids you had been taking care of (as well as other kids in the area) had been disappearing without a trace and the case has been handed over to the armed detective agency

dazai thought your occupation was quite fitting considering your personality; kind and patient

goodness knows how much patience one would need to have dealing with over a dozen children

not that he’s been around many patient people as of recently

ranpo-san barely has any patience for anything and kunikida was another story altogether

although, his outbursts are mainly his fault

chuuya was a different story as well (°▽°)

anyways

due to your connection to the children, you obviously needed to get interviewed, etc. and after all that dazai brought you back to the agency

don’t get me wrong, you’re overjoyed at the fact you’ve finally after long last reunited with your younger brother, but you certainly wasn’t expecting to meet him that day nor did you expect he’d be a public service worker

well detective, but you get the gist

granted, you don’t know an alternative for him bc you missed basically everything abt him growing up in adulthood, but still

but in a way, it suited him

you’d always known him for having a keen eye

introductions to the ada were...certainly something

dazai: kunikida-kun, ranpo-san, yosano-san, shachou, this is my long lost older sibling, dazai (y/n) ! ~(˘▽˘~)

(y/n): er hi! it’s a pleasure to meet you! thank you for taking care of my younger brother, and i apologize for any inconvenience he may have caused... (◠﹏◠✿)

dazai: (°▽°)

the ada: ...

dazai: (°▽°)

(y/n): (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

kunikida: tHIS IS YOUR WHAT–

you’re automatically kunikida’s new favorite person

although that took time bc he was absolutely positive dazai was pulling some kind of new bullshit with him bringing in this person who’s the complete opposite of him and claiming they’re his long lost older sibling

i mean cmon he knows he can be gullible, especially to dazai’s tricks but there’s just no way

but after seeing how well you handled dazai the times you were in the agency he started to believe it

dazai: *harrasing kunikida*

kunikida: *abt to burst a blood vessel and strangle him*

you, across the room organizing dazai’s unfiled paperwork and not bothered by the chaos few feet away : osamu, can you please leave kunikida-kun alone, even for a few hours? i’ll buy crab for dinner, if you do

dazai, instantly leaving kunikida alone sauntering back to his desk: oh, my dearest sibling! you are so kind to wittle ol’ me! 

kunikida: ... (ಠ_ಠ)

kunikida, internally: ...a godsend?

you stay over at his place so often it’s like you live there

the only reason you don’t is bc your own apartment is closer to your work

since you’ve reunited, you constantly invite yourself into your younger brother’s dorm room to 1) take care of him, 2) to clean up his dorm, 3) to cook real food to last him the week, and 4) to spend time for him

the two of you both know that obviously, things have changed and your relationship isn’t the same before, but yk, baby steps

you made him sit down with you so that the two of you could talk properly and seriously and talk abt boundaries and things of the sort

you both know that dazai isn’t going to pour his heart out to you (at least not right now) abt what he’s gone through, his suicidal tendencies, his act around others, etc. but you’ve reassured him that you’ll always be around if he ever needs you and that you’re willing to wait as long as it takes until he’s ready

which ofc dazai rebutted by saying what if he never is, and you rebutted back saying that it’s okay and that you’d still be there

yk, just some supportive, kind older sibling things

when dazai is doing and or causing stupid shit around the agency when you’re present, you are the calmest one there

well, both you and fukuzawa

i mean the two of you deal with actual children i think you’ve got this in the bag

but although you may not be bursting a blood vessel at the sight before you *ahem kunikida i’m looking at you* you always know when and how to defuse a situation no matter how absurd it is

dazai got tangled in bandages? no worries you got the scissors, and know how to be careful with them

kunikida’s notebook is missing and dazai is the prime suspect as always and abt to get tossed out a window? it’s fine! you already swiped it back from the hiding spot you saw dazai put it in

see you got it covered!

you already do a lot for the ada and for dazai, but you still push yourself to do more wanting to pay them back for everything

to dazai, for not being there for him growing up and for the rest of the agency for taking him in

also because they solved the case of the kidnapped children and brought your students back safe, and just bc you just wanted to

you help with dazai’s paperwork when you can (the filing aspect bc you have no idea how to write the report bc you weren’t there and bc you aren’t authorized), make lunch for all of them, buy snacks, and you even treated them out for dinner a couple times

hell you even started paying your brother’s tab from the cafe on the ground floor

granted, the tab is too big to pay off all at once considering how often the agency visits, dazai ditches, and your pay, but yk, every little bit helps

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo just stare at him sometimes bc how is this angel your sibling?

you, already unpacking and distributing the lunched you’ve made for all the agency staff on your day off: hey everyone! i don’t have anything going on today so i brought lunch!

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo watching this happen, then turning to stare at dazai: ...

dazai, knowing fully well that his colleagues are staring at him: my my! i know i’m quite the handsome fellow, but there’s no need for you all to burn a hole into me! ~(˘▽˘~)

kunikida, yosano, and ranpo: (ಠ_ಠ)

dazai: (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)

kunikida, practically shaking in annoyance with teeth gritted: i want to replace you— 

obviously, you can’t be at the agency all the time bc you have your own job, but everyone can’t help but miss you when you’re gone

who’s supposed to save kunikida now?

but, they will admit, seeing your younger brother and kunikida go at it is quite amusing at times; it’s already become the norm anyways so i mean ig they can survive without you

even though dazai is grateful for your presence back in his life, he can’t help but have some doubts

what if you left him again? yes, he knows that your separation from him wasn’t his nor your fault, but what if? just what if you find out everything he’s done and decide you want nothing to do with him?

then you’ll leave him and yokohoma behind, thus leaving behind those at the agency. it’s obvious that they care for you despite only meeting you just recently so then that means they’ll hate him for driving you away and also decide they want nothing to do with him

the agency would fire him to get you back and maybe unbeknownst to him they’re already plotting his termination and your hiring

how’s he supposed to compete with his much kinder, his much more compassionate older sibling? you’re way more cut out for this “be a good person” thing than he is

having that older sibling instinct, you find out quickly what he’s feeling surprising him bc he was sure he was hiding his emotions just as well as usual

he was sure he was right tho; he doesn’t deserve this chance, he should be the one 6 feet underground not odasaku, odasaku was the good person, odasaku was wrong abt him and oh is he crying?

you say nothing only pulling him closer to you placing his head in your chest letting him cry softly bc you just know he hasn’t done that in a long while

you stroke his hair between your fingers as you rub his back knowing that at the moment he just needs silent comfort

he notes in his head, that as usual, you’re patient with the mess of the brother you have

after he’s calmed down a bit you talk to him

your words are soft and kind but firm

no, you’re not going to get replaced

yes, the agency does care for you no matter how many times kunikida threatens to throw you out of a window

no, you truly aren’t as bad you think you are

yes, you deserve your place here on earth

and yes, whoever this odasaku you’ve been mumbling abt, yes, he would be proud of you

that night set a completely different tone for your sibling relationship

he wasn’t planning on spilling his emotions that night, but it just kind of happened

obviously, he still hasn’t told you everything and currently isn’t planning to anytime soon, but at the very least, his burden isn’t as heavy as it was before

and at the very most, the two of you are now a bit closer together

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize, repost, or translate on here or any other sites!