#sorry this ask has been rotting in my inbox for quite a long time-

[neeeeet2]

Which Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss character is the hardest to draw?

Okay so- i originally planned to draw all of them- but i started to just drag my feet when i got to the Helluva Boss characters ;u;

So have the Hazbin cast + Ozzie and Fizz! :D

Out of these, I had the hardest time drawing Husk and Vaggie (surprisingly)! Click for better quality :>

[lnfours]

ik i should probably send this thru the lando brain rot but i am not exposing my filthy side lol so please excuse that. BUT lando with a figure skater who competes in singles but has to pairs for a gala show. he casually picks her from the practice and sees the pairs program which is stemy AF. i am thinking of smth like very hands on each other and her partner throwing her in air and catching her; his hands all over her waist while the song could be smth like into you by ariana grande.

a jealous lando fucking her going like "bet he can't do this" or smth like "oh he will never be able to see you like this" or "come on baby i've seen you split your body basically half on ice you can stretch more than that"

lol i am sorry i yapped alot feel free to ignore if you're not into it sm.

THIS IS LOWKEY GIVING ICEBREAKER AND IM SO HERE FOR IT FUCK!!!!!! smut (18+ pls!)

cleaning out my inbox

he was waiting for you when your routine ended, his arms crossed as he watched you and your partner. he knew you had done a more sensual routine this time around, but the sight of some dude having his hands all over you made him clench his jaw.

he knew it was part of your sport, that it was something silly to be mad at, but he couldn't help it. he didn't like sharing, especially when it came to you.

not wanting to make him wait any longer, you quickly grabbed your things and made your way over to him, stepping off the ice and smiling at him.

"hey, sorry, i forgot what time it was," you sighed, sitting down on the benches, "have you been waiting long?"

he shook his head, "'s alright."

you raised an eyebrow at him as you unlaced your skates, "you okay?"

he was looking in the direction towards your partner, "hmm? yeah, baby, 'm good."

"you sure?" you asked, stuffing the skates into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, "you look pissed off."

the conversation was interrupted when your partner called your name, stepping off the ice and smiling at the both of you, "good job today, you did great!"

"thanks," you smiled, "so did you! i'll see you friday, right?"

"yeah, i'll see you friday," he smiled, "have a good night guys."

you laced your arm with your boyfriends, pulling him away from sending the poor boy daggers, "good night!"

lando followed your lead, walking with you back to the parking lot and to the car. you threw your stuff in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw was still tight.

he started the car as you spoke softly, your hand resting on his arm, "are you sure you're okay?"

he nodded before looking over at you, "yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"like i said, you look pissed," you said, "did you wanna talk about it?"

"'m fine, babe, really."

his tone made you think otherwise, and then it clicked. he was jealous.

you smirked over at him, laughing softly, "oh my god, you're jealous!"

"no, 'm not."

"you are, look at you!" you chuckled, "c'mon, babe, there's nothing to be jealous about."

"i just don't like the fact that he had his hands all over you," he said, "that's all."

you grabbed his hand from the center console, placing it on your cheek, "doesn't matter, the only man who's hands i want all over me is sitting right here."

you pressed a kiss to his palm, smiling softly. he moved his thumb, the pad of his finger tracing over your bottom lip. he leaned the side of his head against the headrest when you pressed a soft kiss to his finger, mumbling a soft, "fuck, if you keep this up, i'm going to have to fuck you in this parking lot."

you smirked over at him, "is that a challenge?"

he looked out to the parking lot, the only ones left were you and one other car he had assumed was the owner's.

fuck it.

he reached across the console, unbuckling the seatbelt you had done up before helping you climb over to the drivers side. you smiled down at him as he reclined the seat back, giving the both of you more room as you lowered yourself to his level, hand resting on the seat as you hovered over him.

"quit it," he said, helping you pull down your leggings and underwear, tugging down his own sweatpants but leaving the barrier of his boxers between the two of you.

"i just can't believe you're jealous of matt," you snickered, "of all people, matt? really?"

"shut up," he rolled his eyes, helping you out of your hoodie, "unless you want me to make you shut up."

"i don't know, this is fun, don't you think?"

he sighed, pulling you down for a kiss with one hand on the back of your neck as the other slipped between the two of you to find your clit. he smirked against your lips at the sound of your muffled whimper, his index finger slowly teasing you.

he pulled away, his lips on your neck. he spoke between kisses to your skin, "yeah, not so talkative now, hmm?"

"gotta do better than that."

without warning, he accepted your challenge and slid his finger into you with ease. you moaned softly, his queue to add another as you closed your eyes in pure bliss.

"what's the matter, baby?" he teased, "cat got your tongue?"

you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, "just fuck me already."

"i'll think about it."

"lando!"

"this is fun, don't you think?" he threw your teasing words back at you, making you groan. your mouth fell open at the feeling of his thumb toying with your clit as his fingers worked inside of you, moving at a delicious pace because he knew your body and what you liked like the back of his hand. and he knew what buttons to push to make you beg for it, and boy was he going to push his limits today.

"tell me what you want, baby," he said, his teeth tugging on your earlobe, "c'mon, pretty girl."

"want you," you moaned, "please."

"see, that's all you had to say."

he slowly pulled his fingers out from inside you as you sat up, letting him pull down his boxers. his dick sprung free, slapping him in the stomach before he helped you lower yourself down onto it. you both moaned in unison at the feeling of him stretching you out, his hands gripping your hips as you slowly started rocking back and forth.

"fuck," he moaned, grabbing at your ass, your sign that he wanted to take control. he started thrusting up into you, making you moan loudly as he somehow went even deeper than before, "yeah, baby, who's pussy is this?"

"yours," you moaned softly, one of his hands coming up to pull down your sports bra, your tits bouncing freely as his fingers tweaked with your nipple.

"sorry baby, i didn't hear you. who's did you say?"

"yours, lando," you said louder, "fuck."

he moved his hand, fingers coming back to rub tight circles against your clit, "yeah, bet he wouldn't fuck you like this, would he?"

you shook your head, but that wasn't good enough for him.

"words."

"no," you said, "he wouldn't."

"yeah cause you're mine," he said, his thrusts somehow going deeper and faster in the confined space the two of you were in, "all mine. got it?"

you nodded, "always."

he smiled, bringing you back down for another kiss, a kiss full of love and passion despite how hard he currently was slamming into you. you moaned into his mouth, pulling away to speak, "just like this, fuck, i'm so close,"

he nodded, "me too," he spoke softly, "come for me, baby."

it didn't take much longer until you were squeezing around him, thighs shaking overtop of him as you moaned. he followed pursuit, his hips stilling as he came undone, the both of you sitting there for a minute to catch your breath.

you laid on his chest, his hands playing with your hair softly. you smiled at him and he smiled back down at you, "i love you, you know."

"i know," you smiled, "i love you too."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "you hungry?"

"i could eat,"

"perfect," he said, tapping your hip, "let's get dressed."

after getting yourselves situated, you smiled as he placed his hand on your thigh, pulling out of the parking lot.

"you know," you bit back a laugh, "you should get jealous more often."

"i literally hate you." he sighed before laughing softly.

"you love me."

"i do."

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Hello you amazing wonderful awesomely awesome person! I’m so madly obsessed with your work

Very curious on your thoughts on this: zombie apocalypse au

Do you think Jason and readers first meeting would be need to be more in a life threatening situation in order to stick or would they be able to meet in a calmer environment and stick together?

This isn’t a push for you to write any one shot! Just curious what you think and any additional thoughts or headcanons you might have for this au 👀

Tysm for continuing to put out awesome writing all the time!

The Death Stench

Ahh, asks like this is why I love taking requests!! Thank you, nonnie!! Seriously, so many great ideas come through my inbox that I never would have thought of myself! I was actually so excited when I finally sat down to write this. Sorry it took so long! :)

~1.4k words

Gotham has always been a cesspool of filth and rot. It's something Jason has long grown used to. But the hoards of groaning, decaying zombies are something he's still learning to live with.

It's been four– no, five months since the world fell apart, since the apocalypse broke down society. The government is in shambles, if it still exists, and Jason hasn't seen or heard another living person in weeks.

He thinks he owes his survival to whatever the pit did to him. The corpses that line the streets just seem to ignore him and shuffle past as he breaks into a little corner store for supplies.

It's why he's started to get complacent. It is so easy to not double or triple check your surroundings when the undead treat you like one of their own.

It's a fact he didn't realize until he's staring down the barrel of a gun and maybe the only other living, breathing person on Gotham.

He blinks at them. They blink at him. "You're not one of– you're alive," You half question, surprise and shock clear in their voice.

Jason slowly raises his hands, the last thing he wants to do is get shot when his medical supplies are dwindling, "I'm alive."

He stares at you for a minute, and you stare back before slowly lowering your gun, "I was here first."

He laughs. It's ridiculous. The world ended, he hasn't had a proper conversation in weeks, and you're trying to lay claim to a corner store in shambles. But, he steps back anyway and gestures to the ransacked aisles, "All yours then."

He quirks an eyebrow when you actually look panicked. "Wait," You start, and lower your gun completely, "I'm sorry, I just– haven't seen anyone in a while. I think I forgot how to talk to people."

You're both aware of the risk you took admitting that, to tell a stranger you're completely and utterly alone in this city, that there's no one waiting for you to return.

Jason has the overwhelming urge to make your risk worth it. He can't explain it, but he chalks it up to some form of loneliness.

So, he smiles at you, easy-going and every inch the charming grin that used to win over the old ladies at charity galas, "I haven't been around people in a while either. Maybe we can figure it out together?"

His heart stutters when you smile back, so clearly relieved. "I'd like that," You admit and holster your gun.

The two of you carefully pick through the store, and an uncertain but steady partnership forms between the two of you.

It takes some time, but he learns which shots you can make and which you can't. You learn which knee hurts him when he jumps over chain wire fences. You both learn to cover each other's blind spots, to trust each other to make decisions.

You haven't quite learned that zombies just don't seem to detect him, and he hasn't found a good way to bring it up, to explain that, 'Hey, I was dead and apparently I qualify as one of them. But don't worry! I won't eat you!'

Yeah, Jason figures you wouldn't be too comfortable with him sleeping near you if he said it like that.

He doesn't really get the chance to explain until he has to use his uncanny ability to blend in with rotting corpses to save your life.

It was supposed to be a normal supply run. Pick over what's left of a pharmacy and get out. Cut and dry. Something you've both done more times than you can count. Until it goes wrong.

He'd cleared the area, he'd been so careful, you both were. But you hadn't been lucky. It was no one's fault, when you open a cabinet and a skittish raccoon jumps out at you, sending you falling back.

The animal knocks over cans and boxes as it frantically scampers to get away. It's loud. Too loud.

The two of you froze, when the sounds of shuffling feet start to make their way to the door. Jason weighs his options, and the piece of his heart that had become undeniably yours won quickly.

He grabs your arm and hauls you to your feet. "C'mon," he mutters, dragging you towards a supply closet.

"We need to run," You say quickly, tugging at your arm and trying to push him towards the exit.

"We won't make it," he says firmly and shoves you into the tiny space. He follows you in and pulls the door shut. The door doesn't lock, and he reaches around you to grab an extension cable off a shelf.

"Jason," You half hiss, eyes wide as the groans start to get louder.

He shushes you, heart racing as he ties one end of the extension cord to the door knob, and the other to the metal poles of the shelf.

It's a start, but it wouldn't stop anything from breaking down the door. "Sorry," Jason mumbles. He returns your confused look with an apologetic one, and immediately crowds you against the wall.

He grabs the back of your neck to press your face to his chest. His other hand grabs at your hip, almost desperate. Jason realizes he hasn't been afraid in a long time.

He buries his face in your hair and silently wills you to understand. If he can keep them from getting your scent, hearing you, you'll be safe. He can protect you, he just needs you to stay like this, hidden and sheltered against the dirty wall of the closet.

He knows you can't begin to guess why he's doing this, but you don't make a sound. Your fingers curl into his jacket as the zombies shuffle around the pharmacy. Grunts fill the air as they pass by the door, and Jason feels you stiffen against him.

It's instinctual, when his thumb starts to rub back and forth across your hip. He wants to help, wants you to feel calm and safe even as the smell of death fills the air.

He's surprised when you do relax against him, tucking your face further into his chest. He's not sure how long you stay like that. His thumb never stills, and eventually, the sounds of undead fade, and he's left with just you.

Jason lets himself linger for a moment, savoring your closeness, before slowly untangling himself from you. "You're okay," he says softly, he means for it to be a question, but it comes out as a fact, a complete certainty that you are okay.

You look up at him, eyes wide, "How are we even alive? I've never seen– they've never just ignored people before."

He winces, "I'll– Let me explain. Please. Just not here." He deflates a little at the uncertainty that flashes across your face, but you nod and follow him back to the rooftop that's become his and your base.

He tries to explain, really, does his best to talk about the Pit, who he was, what he used to do. You never interrupt, you listen to every word he says as he lights a fire, methodically making food over the open flame.

You don't say anything as he admits the undead have never been interested in him, but you do let him sit next to you to eat.

He runs out of things to say, as the sun sets over a desolate Gotham. Jason thinks you're going to leave. Or ask him to leave. But you don't. You lean your head against his shoulder, and all the air leaves his lungs.

"I'm glad you're here, Jason," You tell him. And for the first time in a long time, Jason is too.

"I'm glad you're here, too," he echoes, and he hesitantly lowers his head to rest against yours. He breathes a sigh of relief when you don't move, only relax into his side.

Jason closes his eyes to bask in the moment, in being with you, and swears there's not a thing he wouldn't do to keep you like this. To keep you with him, to keep you happy, to keep you alive.

He thinks it might be the reason he's still breathing.

[mrsmikaelsxn]

ABBA Marathon

masterlist

pairing: father sirius black x daughter reader

warnings: like one curse word, tooth rotting fluff, sirius being an icon, literally just a very fun read that i hope has you smiling in your bed

summary: you meet sirius, play chess with sirius, and have an abba singing and dance party with sirius (sirius meeting his daughter post azkaban - requested by anon)

a/n: im so obsessed with this idk i wish sirius was my dad, also sorry this has been in my inbox for so long

song: waterloo - abba

Being Sirius Black's daughter was quite tiring. But also thrilling. Especially since it was your third year when he escaped Azkaban.

Your best friends are Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You couldn't have asked for better ones.

With the rumors of Sirius coming after you and Harry, people had been cold towards you because of your father, not that you could control who your father was.

Right now you were outside, taking a walk in some fresh air. Suddenly a dog comes up to you and barks once. "Why, hello there," you coo and bend down. The dog happily wags his tail and jumps onto her. "Aww, you're so cute!" 

You pet the dog, who leans into your hand. "You are very skinny," you frowned. "Follow me, I'm sure Hagrid has some food I can give you." 

As you two head down, you get near the Whomping Willow. As you pass by, the dog suddenly spins and before you could blink the dog was biting your pants, tugging you to the tree. 

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Dog, but these are new pants." You then get very close to the tree, "Er- I don't think this is a good idea," you say nervously as the branches of the tree start to move. 

The dog looks up in alert and quickly tugs you into some type of hole that they slid down into. "Ah!" The dog jumps up and pulls on your pants again. "Where are we going?"

Finally, you come into an empty abandoned room. "What is this place..."

You walk over and pick up a dusted book, blowing on the cover before putting it back down. You turn around and her eyes go wider than they've ever been. "AHH!" you scream.

"AHH!" 

"AHH!"

"SHH!"  

You cover your mouth and stare at the one and only Sirius Black.

Your father.

"What the fuck," you whisper to yourself. "Oh my Merlin, I'm too young to die! I- I haven't gotten to slap Malfoy yet, I haven't been able to prank Snape! I ha-"

"Prank Snape?" Sirius pipes up. 

"I'm going to die. Oh, Godric," you pace while frantically whispering to yourself. "I'm in the same room with Sirius Black, alone."

He frowns at being called by his name instead of Dad, which it should be.

"Relax, love, I'm not going to kill you."

You spin and face the man, "You're not?"

"No."

"Then why am I here? For giggles and a tea party?"

"One, you're about to find out. Two, I don't like tea," Sirius makes a face. 

"Huh, me neither. Now, go on, tell me why I'm in an abandoned room with an escaped convicted murderer," you cross your arms. 

"I'm not a murderer. I'm innocent, I swear."

You narrow her eyes, "How so?"

"Well, it started when I first got to Hogwarts..."

You wipe the tears from under your eyes, "That is the saddest thing I have ever heard."

Sirius waves his hand, "Now that you know what happened, you believe me right?"

"Of course!" You throw her arms around the man, who relaxes into his daughters hold. It's been a long time since he has had human contact.

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you can't tell anyone about me just yet."

"Why?! If I tell them you're inno-"

He smiles sadly, "I'm not so sure they would believe you."

"But-" Sirius shakes his head. You sigh, "Well, are you going to be staying here?"

He nods, "I guess. It's a bit dirty though, if you ask me."

"I can fix that," you grin. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity. You takes out your wand and flick it. The room starts moving and the dust all collects together before flying out the window. The furniture vanishes and new ones appear. Pictures form on the wall and the room cleans up into a brand new, clean room.

"Wow, impressive. Thank you," Sirius says. You nod and flick your wrist again. In the blink of an eye, Sirius is freshly cleaned and looks well taken care of. His eyes almost water at your kindness. "I truly can't thank you enough."

"That's better, isn't it?" You smile proudly at your work. "Oh! You need food," you think for a moment, "I'll just bring you down daily meals."

"I can't ask you to do that, it's too much."

"It's a good thing you don't have to ask. You mentioned your friend... Remus Lupin." Sirius nods and gestures for you to continue, "He's a Professor this year... anyway, is he a..."

"A...?"

"Werewolf," you say hesitantly. 

Sirius' face goes a bit pale, "What makes you think that?"

"His boggart was a moon, and he has lots of light scars."

"Would it change your opinions about him?"

"Not at all! If anything I think it makes him even better." Sirius nods his head. "Yes... he's a werewolf?" 

He nods again, "You're a bright witch."

"Thank you," you beam. You looks at your watch, "I have about twenty minutes before my friends start looking for me. In the meantime.... Wizard's Chess?"

"Yes! Checkmate!" You jump up from your seat in excitement. "I won!"

"That's not fair! You only won because I'm rusty," Sirius crosses his arms and sinks into the couch. 

"Sure, sure. Rematch tomorrow?" you ask. 

"Rematch tomorrow," you two shake hands and you go to the exit. 

"I'll bring you some food in a little while."

"Bye, darling," he waves, watching you leave. 

A few weeks later, you were on your daily trip to see Sirius. You snuck in through the Whomping Willow, you also learned how to avoid the branches. 

"Hello?!" you shout. 

"Over here!"

You follow his voice and see him digging through a closet. "What are you looking for?"

"I- that's... a good question." He stands up and clears his throat, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It has come to my attention that you recently made an appearance in the castle."

"Mhm."

"And you didn't inform me about it beforehand," you gives him a blank stare.

"I wanted to, but it took a while to plan and I wanted it to be a surprise," he grins with jazz hands.

"You do realize that I could have helped you in, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to risk you getting in trouble," he frowns. 

"I appreciate your concern," you salute him and he does it back with a chuckle.

"What's in the bag?" He nods to the one hanging on your arm. 

"This, my furry father-"

"That was a horrible joke."

"-Is a record player!" You excitedly pull it out of the bag and place it on a table. 

"A what?"

"A record player. It plays music. Want to see?!"

"As if I would say no to music."

You reach into the bag and take out some vinyl records. "I picked ones that I think you would enjoy best. There is a supergroup that I thought you would really like. They're called ABBA. They're one of my favorites." 

You set up the record player and place one of the vinyls in. You grin at the man as you hit the play button.

"YOU CAN DANCE, YOU CAN JIVE! HAVING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE! SEE THAT GIRL, WATCH THAT SCENE! DIGGING THE DANCING QUEEN!"

You and Sirius continue to shout the lyrics into your fake microphones as you hop around the room with the song blasting. When the room was first set up by you, you placed several privacy and silencing spells, so you two didn't have to worry about anyone hearing anything.

"YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN! YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN-"

"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! WON'T SOMEBODY HELP ME CHASE THE SHADOWS AWAY?" you sing while bouncing on the couch. 

"GIMME, GIMME, GIMME A MAN AFTER MIDNIGHT! TAKE ME THROUGH THE DARKNESS TO THE BREAK OF THE DAY!" Sirius continues as he walks and dances as if he were on a stage. 

"MAMMA MIA, HERE I GO AGAIN! MY, MY, HOW CAN I RESIST YOU?"

"MAMMA MIA, DOES IT SHOW AGAIN! MY, MY, JUST HOW MUCH I'VE MISSED YOU?" 

Sirius and you hold hands as you jump together and flip your hair with matching goofy grins. 

"YES, I'VE BEEN BROKENHEARTED! BLUE SINCE THE DAY WE PARTED!"

"WHY, WHY DID I EVER LET YOU GO?"

"BUT NOW IT ISN'T TRUE! NOW EVERYTHING IS NEW!" you grab your wand to create two pairs of light up sunglasses, you toss one to Sirius and you both put them on.

"AND ALL I'VE LEARNED HAS OVERTURNED! I BEG OF YOUUU!" Sirius sings. 

"DON'T GO WASTING YOUR EMOTION! LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ON MEEEE!" you shout together. 

With a flick of your wrist, you - much to Sirius' surprise - somehow managed to have a disco ball with neon lights come from the ceiling. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sit in the Gryffindor common room. 

"I wonder what she's doing right now," Harry looks thoughtfully.

"She's been leaving a lot recently," comments Hermione, biting nervously on her nail.

"I hope she's okay," says Ron, "Sirius Black could be out there."

"LAST NIGHT I WAS TAKING A WALK ALONG THE RIVER, AND I SAW HIM TOGETHER WITH A YOUNG GIRL!"

"AND THE LOOK THAT HE GAVE HER MADE ME SHIVER! 'CAUSE HE ALWAYS USE TO LOOK AT ME THAT WAY!" Sirius grabs your hand and twirls you, causing you to laugh. 

"AND I THOUGHT, MAYBE I SHOULD WALK RIGHT UP TO HER AND SAY 'AH-HA-HA, IT'S A GAME HE LIKES TO PLAYYY!" you and Sirius shimmy dance to each other. 

You jump and freeze before breaking out in another dance and sing the chorus. "LOOK INTO HIS ANGELEYES, ONE LOOK AND YOU'RE HYPNOTISED! HE'LL TAKE YOUR HEART AND YOU MUST PAY THE PRICE!"

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"I TRY TO CAPTURE EVERY MINUTE!"

"THE FEELING IN IT, SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"DO I REALLY SEE WHAT'S IN HER MIND, EACH TIME I'M CLOSE TO KNOWING, SHE KEEPS ON GROWING!"

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ALL THE TIME!"

"SOMETIMES I WISH THAT I COULD FREEZE THE PICTURE!"

"AND SAVE IT FROM THE FUNNY TRICKS OF TIME!"

Sirius and you wrap an arm around each other's waist as they sway to the music. 

"SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERSSSSS!"

Sirius then starts pretending like he's playing the guitar to the music making your giggle. 

You and Sirius fall back, panting, onto the couch. Sirius turns to you and gives you a high five. 

"Oh my Merlin! That was the most fun I had in forever!"

"Me too, kid. Thank you. I don't know the last time I felt like that."

"You're welcome," you bumps his shoulder. "Oh! And you can keep everything, I have my own."

"Really?"

"Mhm, I'll bring you more vinyls I have. We can have more singing and dancing parties like this."

"I'm looking forward to it." He looks at a watch you got him, "I think it may be time for you to head back."

You look in a mirror on the wall, "My hair is messy from flipping it."

"I can help you with it, if you want," he smiles at you. 

"Really?" He nods. "Thanks!"

Sirius gets up and grabs a brush, you turn on the couch so he is behind you as he brushes through your hair. "I'm going to try to do that braid you taught me."

"Here's a hair tie," you take one off your wrist. 

He struggles at first but manages to do a good, tight braid. "Done!" Sirius claps his hands. 

You look in the mirror, "Wow, you have a good teacher."

He shrugs, "Meh, she's alright." You slap the back of his head, "Okay, okay! Not the hair! Okay, I have the best teacher." 

You nod happily and grab your bag, "Bye, Dad."

"See you soon, y/n," he winks.

[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[captaincravatthecapricious]

You Don’t Understand- Prompt Fill

Jon has a rough time after being absent for 6 months.

Write as a prompt fill gotten through A03

CW fainting, victim blaming, withdrawal/starvation symptoms (from statements) (I am a bit vague about which it is more like because I couldn't choose, so a bit of both), trust issues, very brief Peter Lukas mention, brief mention of someone being touched while unconscious (nonsexual and very brief mention), and cw for some very mixed feelings about Georgie.  I understand her, and I don't hate her, but I don't really like her either so please don't get mad at me for how she is written I am trying to do her justice and I get why she does the things she does, but I don't have to like her for it.

Thanks for reading hope you enjoy! I have a few more bingo prompts to post, but only one more to write!  Feel free to stick it in my inbox and if no one does, well you will just have to put up with whatever whim strikes me this weekend when I will write it for a backlog!  Card by the wonderful @celosiaa​

It’s been six months.  How has it been six months?  

Jon isn’t sure how he is supposed to think about that time.  Is it all supposed to feel like a dream, that one moment he’s blowing up, the next he’s awake?  

It doesn’t feel like that.  

But he also wasn’t really there for six months, was he?   

He sighs deeply to himself.  It doesn’t matter.  

It doesn’t matter.  

He’s alive.  

He’s fine.  

Martin and Tim are sharing a flat, apparently.  And that’s good.  He thinks?  Maybe?  

They keep telling him there is room for him, but he isn’t sure he can believe that…. Not after everything with Tim.  He wants to believe it…  But… what if Martin doesn’t want him there.  He thought maybe they had a moment before the Unknowing, but did they?  

Jon’s not good with…. Feelings.  With people.  

Not to mention he’s been Gone.  With a capital G and a flatline of a heartrate.  

Even if he and Martin could possibly have…  Could possibly have had something.  Of some unknowable sort.  That he couldn’t have hoped to put a word to for fear that it would crumble around him.  But he’s been gone and Tim hasn’t been and they seem close now.  

And maybe Tim is trying again with him?  But how can he be sure?  When everything is confusing and out of sync with what he thought of time.  

Not to mention the deep hunger that is more than hunger.  Deeper in his gut, and harder to ignore.  Followed by a fog of confusion and the sense that his skin is too tight, that the world is the wrong temperature, and that everything is tilted ever so slightly, making it impossible to keep his balance.  

Reading statements helps, but… Basira… but Georgie.  The disappointed glares they send his way when he skulks off to read one in hopes of feeling like his limbs are his again…. That he isn’t being slowly set on fire or slowly frozen.  The world skirting by him with a vengeful glee leaving him to rot in his own misery on the shelf in the stacks he’s been calling home recently.  

Martin wasn’t there when he woke up…. Working for the ever elusive Peter Lukas.  Tim wasn’t there… Martin later telling him he’d been afraid of scaring him.  Which Jon couldn’t escape the worry that, in actuality, it was Martin worrying that Tim would scare Jon… or hurt him.  Which Jon could tell was the more valid of the worries.  Or he thinks it is?  How is he supposed to be certain.  How can he trust anyone?  How is he supposed to trust anyone when Basira gives him such calculating stares, when Melanie glares metaphorical and literal daggers at him, when Georgie has been ignoring his texts (and her harsh words upon his waking).  When Martin is working for a literal monster.  When Daisy is gone… and Jon doesn’t know how to feel.  He wants Basira to be happy, but he feels safer without her.  And he doesn’t know how to feel about anything but he is sick and hungry and cold and hollow.  

There is no one.  

Georgie doesn’t understand.   

He runs into her once, picking Melanie up for therapy.  After…. An unwise abrupt and shady surgery.  

He is in the breakroom.  Baffled that Martin is still making him tea when he hardly sees him around.  Even more baffled when Tim makes him another cup.  

What does it all mean?  

(Not to mention his confusion at the green hair… that had been a shock.

When he texted Martin about it, he said to ask Tim, and included an emoji that Jon couldn’t parse out.  Weren’t emojis supposed to be easier to read than actual faces?  It was maybe resigned?  Or maybe regretful?

Regretful of what?  Is he ashamed of something?  Is he regretful that he opened a text from Jon, that Jon turned down the request to move in?  It isn’t that Jon wanted to turn it down.  

But it sounds too good to be true?  When everyone avoids him at work… Well Tim doesn’t, but Jon is scared of being alone with Tim.  He is scared of this kindness and how long it might last.)

So he’s in the breakroom.  

Trying to steady himself the less monstrous and terrifying way.  

And Georgie is there.  

Jon shrinks back on himself.  Still hoping the mug of tea will make his hands steadier, make him less cold, less shaky, less miserable.  But he’s having difficulty holding it with one shaky hand, white knuckling his cane with the other.  Trying not to let it tremble as much as the rest of him, propping himself up when black spots start eating at his vision.  Not in the POTS sort of way… but in the same way that has been since America.  Since that first hint of fear that maybe… maybe he’s not human, that he is reliant on some horrifying eldritch god of knowledge.  

This is the price of him waking up.  

And it chews him up from the inside when, in his panic, he tries to limit his consumption hoping that it will turn him back.  Hoping that he still has a chance to win back the people he cares about, but fighting the fear that this is the only way to save them all.  

He doesn’t know what to do.  Being undead doesn’t come with a manual.  

And there is no chance that Georgie will take this any better than she did when she kept telling him to quit… to just stop.  

He’s trying!  

It’s been a few days since his last statement, and the world swims before his eyes whenever he stands.  Worse than it ever has.  He’s woken up on the floor more times in the few weeks he’s been alive again than in the long and confusing months leading up to his diagnosis.  

Which was after Georgie… which… means she hasn’t seen him like this.  Not when he was living with her because he has been managing, or so he thought, but hell maybe the Eye had a hand in that.  

And oh Shit, she is looking at him now.  

What does he do if she wants to talk?  She hasn’t responded to any of his texts, or late night calls when he’s been too afraid to call anyone else and she always felt safe.  Even when they were fighting.  But she hasn’t been there for him.  No one has, of late.  Except the people who are trying and Jon is too confused to know what to do so he does nothing and an all-consuming guilt joins in with that Hunger.  That sickness eating him from the inside with every word he doesn’t consume.  

“Hi Jon.”  

He can’t say anything.  He’s been standing too long, but seeing her there, he is frozen.  Fight or Flight breaking down to freeze.  Has he always been such a coward?  

Yes.  

Yes he has.  A miserable coward since he was a child.  Getting into trouble trying to try to prove to himself that he isn’t.  

Christ he’s dizzy.  But she’s still talking.  

“Jon, you really oughtn’t be here.  You don’t look well.  Shouldn’t you still be resting?  That long in hospital should have you in need of some physical therapy.  Are you pushing yourself too hard?”

Jon bites down on the urge to snap at her.  Or start crying.  Or simply pass out and not have to deal with this conversation at all.  “I need to be here,” he says quietly.  Afraid that expelling too much air will knock him over.  

“And why is that?  Really Jon, I swear…  Melanie says you haven’t been eating , or sleeping, but she sees  you here at all hours.  Why?  What is this all for?  It’s just a job, I don’t care if there are Monsters or whatever.  You see this?  This is why I can’t deal with you right now!  Not to mention what you did to Melanie.  What the hell, Jon?  You say you’re trying to save the world, but maybe you can’t?  Maybe you need to save yourself before you can do anything else.”

Jon just wants to get away before he goes down, and by this point he knows that is inevitable.  Maybe get to his office, and open a statement first.  Maybe that will help, or maybe it will make him feel better once he comes around.  He should put down his tea.  He doesn’t want the mug to break if he can’t make it.  He’ll set it on the table on the way out, or wait until he’s in  the bullpen and put it down and take a seat and hope that helps.  He tries to edge around her, staring at the floor.  Careful not to say anything that could compel.  Just wanting to get out.  “Have work to do… sorry.”  

“No you don’t!  Look at yourself, Jon!  Work can wait!”  

Jon just wants to leave.  He wishes it could!  He does.  He wants nothing more than to take a vacation.  To move in with Martin and Tim and have a life.  A home.  Safety.  Normalcy.  And Argument over who finished the milk and who has to do the shopping and not about how best to not die at the hands of Fear Gods, and how best to not serve them.  “Please, Georgie you don’t understand…”  

He backs away.  Fuck he’s dizzy.  

“No, Jon I don’t.  Explain.  What am I missing.  Why do you have to do this?  Why do you insist on working yourself into your grave?  It’s already basically killed you.  Maybe some of us don’t want to see you do that again?”

“I… I…  I need a Statement….”  Well so much for getting away.  He’s not even going to make it to a chair or the floor on his own.  “Hold this, I’m… I think I’m going to faint now.”  He holds his cane out to her.  

She takes it confused.  

Jon doesn’t remember hitting the floor.  

When he comes around, his head is pounding.  

Georgie is touching him.  He is on his side, and he is being yelled at.  He can’t make out the words yet… all just in a haze of pain and confusion and feeling like utter shit.  He tries to bat her hands away but he can’t and so he just lays there.  Hoping some feeling comes back to his limbs soon.  Or that Georgie will just get bored and leave him there.  

But then Martin is there.  And Tim.  

And Martin is shooing Georgie out of his personal space.  “He doesn’t like being touched while he’s out.”  

Well…  correct.  

“What the hell just happened?”  Georgie.  

“Well… it happens sometimes.  Did he say anything?”  Martin again.  

“Something about needing Statement?”

“Tim, could you grab him a Statement?”  

“Sure thing, back in a mo.”  Tim.  More earnest than Jon has heard him in a long time.  Tim helping him?  If he wasn’t already on the floor, he might have fainted again at that.  

“What, you’re just going to go along with it?  Let him work himself to death?  Look at him!  He isn’t well!  …I don’t know why I am arguing this.  He’s an adult and if he is going to do that, I don’t need to be a part of this.  It isn’t my job to baby sit him.”  Georgie shoves his cane at Martin, who doesn’t freeze.  In fact, as far as Jon can tell through half lidded eyes, Martin looks angry.  

“Look.  I know we don’t know each other well.  But do you really think so poorly of Jon… of me?  I don’t know what he’s told you… but he needs those Statements to live.  I don’t know if it’s ….a food… or… or an addiction.  But … he doesn’t do well without them.  And… And Elias was feeding them to him when he wasn’t here.  And Jon told me how you didn’t want them in the flat, but he got sick in America.  Really really sick, and … and Elias found him there and fed him another one.  He didn’t know until then.  But… you have to know we can’t quit.  And we aren’t sure if Jon can live without these.  And it is a far from ideal situation�� but we are working on it.  You don’t have to like it.  Or talk to Jon, although you should.  You aren’t enabling him, he needs a support system.  And he’s just too thick to see that Tim and I are here from him, and everyone else is giving him the cold shoulder… so I don’t blame him for being too thick to notice!  Not to mention, my new position has made interacting with him during work hours… difficult, but I can’t blame him for not wanting to move in yet, although I hope he will.  And you!  The only person not in this mess who he trusts, ignores him.  Blames him!  Maybe you should try listening?  I get it… you can’t deal with him right now.  Fine.  I get it.  Do what you have to.  You don’t have to look after him at your own expense.  But don’t be cruel.  …Oh good.  Tim, thanks.  When he comes around, a Statement and some tea will set him right.”  Martin smiles at Tim (a smile that makes Jon jealous) and gives Georgie a cool look.  

“Marto, I think he’s been awake for most of that.”  Tim is crouched by him.  

“Haven’t been eavesdropping, promise.  Just… just getting my bearings.  I’m fine.  I’ll be up soon.”  Jon’s voice is rough.  Misery, unshed tears, exhaustion.  Take your pick.  

“It’s okay, buddy.  We’ll get you fixed up and then you can have a proper rest.  Offer of the flat share is still open, okay?”  Tim hovers, ready to help him sit when he’s ready.  

Jon… doesn’t know what to say.  After hearing Martin defend him… Maybe… Maybe he can start working on trusting Tim again.  Tim… is, after all, working on trusting him too.  

Georgie looks down at him.  He can’t read her expression.  She looks at him for a long moment.  

The gaze isn’t uncomfortable by itself.  But Jon feels exposed on the floor.  Small and helpless and weak as well as supernaturally hungry, that not at all helped by his “surprise nap.”  

He tries to avoid meeting her eyes.  

“I’m… sorry I didn’t listen.  I… still can’t do this with you right now.  But… I’m sorry.  I can’t be your friend now, but… let me know if you want some pictures of the Admiral ever, okay?”  And she leaves.  Off to bring Melanie to her appointment.  

Leaving Jon with Martin and Tim.   

Who bring him to his sad excuse for a bed, tuck him in with a statement and a cup of tea and tell him to call if he needs anything.  And Jon thinks, maybe he will reconsider their offer.  

[mononoke-no-ko]

I’m going to address some of the asks that have been left rotting in my inbox over the years since the last time I was active here. A bit meaningless, the asker has probably been gone for long and is not going to see it (really sorry) but it’s been gnawing on me everytime I logged in to tumblr and it doesn’t feel right to just delete them all either. So just in case, and also for my conscience. 

Notes:

Not going to address translation requests for Lancelot and Guren/Re; manga (since I think the translation been completed for those manga).

Not taking translation requests for fanart/doujin anymore either. I did some and it just kept coming haha.

Leaving out some redundant ones.

Leaving out ones that require longer answers, will address them later.

reflection, all in lower case

Nah, I actually only managed to read the first volumes of Oz, can’t find the motivation to translate things I’m just not interested in. As for the raw files I posted them here https://mononoke-no-ko.tumblr.com/post/183022708229/code-geass-oz-the-reflection-oz-the-reflection, think I’ll be organizing them so they’ll be easier to find in the near future, password is reflection.

Nope, sorry. Anyone knows if anyone has translated it please drop by.

1) Can’t really think any source off the top of my head, it’s probably listed in some old files, but folks at reddit/discord/code geass wiki page aka fans who’ve been around far longer than me might be able to help.

2) I have, been so long ago I’ve forgotten most of it though.

1. Translated some audio drama from R2 https://mononoke-no-ko.tumblr.com/tagged/code%20geass%20sound%20episode. Translation for S1 audio drama are spread all over the internet I believe. Will find time to organize the link.

2. I don’t think anyone has translated any of Akito’s picture drama yet?

3. As in, the picture drama? I don’t know if anyone has translated this one yet either.

Can’t see myself doing it. Dropped Oz manga and I’m still stuck at the fourth Akito’s OVA. Not quite an exemplary code geass fan here.

He died. Then became immortal. What a life lol.

More assertive, take the lead in relationship, I assumed.

I think she was just dodging the question (about her feelings for Suzaku) by playing along with the facade that ‘Suzaku Kururugi’ had ‘died’ as it’s believed within the show’s universe.

Think I won’t, really sorry.

Most likely from when Charles charged at him in R2. 

C.C. and the antagonists faction are the ones moving the plot in the Resurrection, I think. Everyone else is just reacting to what they did or caused. You mean Lelouch taking the lead role again? I’d personally be interested if they give him a new set of struggles. I do think both R2 and Resurrection ending cut things a bit too clean on his character development part. 

What deleted scenes?

This interview with Kallen’s VA might help https://mononoke-no-ko.tumblr.com/post/183139422849/ami-koshimizu-kallens-va-interview-from. It’s hard to say what will or won’t happen in future installments. No one expected we would get Resurrection 14 years ago when R2 ended either.

Lol wish I knew. I remember there’s some boobs size ranking for Code Geass female characters and C.C. didn’t rank too high in it.

Chinese translation (free) here https://www.wenku8.net/novel/0/353/index.htm. 

Or you can buy them here https://bookwalker.jp/series/13283/list/, back when I bought them several years ago they offered 50% discount for all items in your cart for your first buy.

Didn’t translate this one, as for the raw, I’ll see what I can do.

I checked and this one is already available on the, uh, usual sites. The ones started with e-****** or n******.

I don’t know how long ago this ask was, but did this happen yet in Japan? I wasn’t following closely. 

It’s hard to seriously think about it because the end of Resurrection cut things a bit too clean on his character development part, he just seem so well-adjusted and content though still retain his theatric and dramatic tendency. A character like this will probably make for fun supporting/observer role though. There’s some potential for interesting conflicts of course, like him facing any undesirable aftermath of Zero Requiem, or if the world find out the truth about Zero Requiem.

It continues up to chapter 10!

I don’t think they have, but I could be wrong though since I didn’t really follow info on dubs (I don’t live in North America so I’m not the target market), sorry!

We’re entering the 3rd years and we still only have gacha game. The so-called 10 years project might not result in much content.

Lol, hope I could be some help. In the end though I’m just doing whatever I liked and translated what I found interesting. Really sorry for all the translation requests that I’ve been declining or even outright ignoring left and right. 

[bbnibini]

hewwo! uwu izz good to see you're active again! i haven't read the latest chapters still it's nice to see them here at tumblr,,,i do have a question to ask! can you share your top 10 fave obey me characters and why? welcome back!

Oh my god. I have no idea for how long this ask had been rotting away in my inbox. I'm so very sorry. ;; Asks are still closed until further notice, but since this ask had been rotting in my inbox for I think...a long time now...I'm gonna answer it anyw. I tried to minimise spoilers but I'm terrible at keeping my gushing in check so be forewarned. Also, I think 10 is almost all of the cast so I reduced it to half.

TOP 5 FAVOURITE OBEY ME! CHARACTERS (IN ASCENDING ORDER)

5. Leviathan

Not gonna lie. When I was playing this game for the very first time, I found Levi's whole otaku shtick to be really cringey and painfully familiar. It's like seeing your middle school phase being replayed in front of you. 

Anyway, he was endearingly clumsy in a "you just want to cheer him on" sort of way. Since he reminded me a lot of me when I was in middle school, I kinda see him more as a little brother or a child and didn't find any romantic attachment to him. However, seeing him slowly improve his familial relationships, as well as gradually gain his self-esteem and acknowledge how much of a talented individual he is, made me really really get platonically attached to him. One of the later lessons in Season 3 shows how he had established a friendship with someone who he thought was wayyy out of his league and seeing them bond and get along so well after the lesson makes my heart so warm. ;w; (Yes, I’m talking about Levi and Diavolo and the whole karaoke battle thing).

His Devilgram "A Jealous Christmas" remain as one of my favourite Devilgrams so far.

4. Lucifer

If Levi reminded me so much of my younger self, I resonated a lot with Lucifer's struggles and burdens. I have a tendency to be super protective and attached to misunderstood characters in fiction, and seeing a divide on opinions about him just made those protective feelings stronger. 

Like Levi, I don't really find him romantically attractive or anything, and I can understand quite a bit why some fans are frustrated with how he has so much screen time. However, I actually enjoyed seeing those screen times. Yes, he is quite the sadist and yes, he's often associated with being domineering and "sexy", but he is so much more than that. Beneath his strict and overbearing personality lies a kind, caring and self-sacrificing older brother who always looks out for his family's best interests. He is so dedicated to his duties and obligations that he couldn't even consider that Diavolo is being sincere with him. Love and friendship is literally staring straight at him yet he couldn't even see it since he is so attached to his promises in the past. I just want him to be happy. I feel like his siblings and sometimes, even his own fans misunderstand him. :( Every time I see him on screen, blurting out his worries or suffering in silence, I just want to give him a hug. </3

3. Satan

I think you could already tell how much I LOVE character development and growth in fictional characters. Satan is a literal walking example of it. He’s my very first UR--my birthday UR actually (started playing OM a day after my bday), and reading that particular Devilgram (The Search for Self) made me so invested in his character. His obvious desire to set himself apart from Lucifer and gain his own individuality + his adorable attachment to cats and books only endeared him to me the more, that he became my husbando in OM for a while. I had to admit though that I initially went for him for his looks because he looks SO MUCH like my favourite Fate character/ultimate Fate husbando, Arthur Pendragon from Fate Prototype. They even have similar demeanours! 

He had gone down from my favourite list by a bit after...uhh things happened, but Satan still remains as my favourite Demon Brother. I see him more as an ex of sorts (lol) that I am still good friends with if that makes sense? I still love him a lot, but my attachment isn’t the romantic sort anymore.

2. Barbatos

I went into this game assuming Barbatos would be my husbando since he is the literal embodiment of my type when it comes to anime men. But I honestly forgot about him until he came crashing my heart as a bias wrecker in Season 3. Turns out he only needs to make himself known for him to officially steal my heart, rather than stand by the sidelines, like his whole thing going on in S1 and S2. The Pining ™ in his devilgram stories is ✨E X Q U I S I T E✨. And I dearly love his polite and reserved demeanor that hints of so much plot and character potential that I cannot wait to sink myself into. 

My reasons for loving him is rather shallow compared to my more platonic attachments. I just really really find him attractive and I love how loyal and dedicated he is. Please, I beg you don’t release another side character event welfare UR. If it’s Barbatos I swear I will die-

👑1. Solomon

Ah yes, Mr. Slim Shady himself. I didn’t really give him much thought, and like most of the fandom, was suspicious of him for a few months until I noticed some things about him that seem to indicate that he’s rather lonely and sad beneath all of his wise cracks and silliness. When my suspicions of that unspoken loneliness was proven true in his devilgrams and the later lessons, I began to feel really sorry for him. Like Lucifer, almost everyone’s opinions on Solomon are divided. I still see people suspect he is “evil” or “untrustworthy” and I’m not sure why I feel even a million times more protective over him compared to Lucifer. *insert and I took that personally meme here* By the time I came to my senses, he had already dethroned Satan from the husbando throne and now he sits at its apex. I...have no idea how that happened either. (He is also the reason why I stopped being F2P in this game. Ik I’m disappointed in me too ;;)

I have so much to say about him that I cannot amount all my feelings into words. I kept on wondering if the fans had forgotten that he literally saved you from being eaten by demon students in around Lesson 2, and was even an option for Levi’s TSL battle (aka that quiz thing where you can either consult the author of TSL himself/Simeon or an equally nerdy TSL super fan as Levi/Solomon to earn a pact with Levi). Anyway, I don’t know. I love him. Very very much and I hate it that he's so misunderstood. I’m way deep into Solomon simping, I literally have no hope of recovering. 

Anyway, that’s about it. I hope this answers your ask. And again, I apologise very much for the delays!

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Can I have a jealous Yandere Deku with a very oblivious reader and Deku can barely control himself anymore?

Okay so I may have gone a little bit overboard with this ^///^;; but since this request has been sitting in my inbox for far too long I wanted to make up for the delay, plus there’s the fact that I still have not done anything for reaching 200 followers yet. I’m e x t r e m e l y sorry for the delay this however x_x but I hope you enjoy it. ^~^ Thank you for requesting.

Trigger warnings: Drug use, dark thoughts, mind break and a whole lot of angst.

What becomes of the broken-hearted.

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He knew it was wrong, so very, very, very wrong.

So many times he’d told himself that he shouldn’t think or feel such things towards y/n and each time the shameful thoughts, ones no hero should ever think up, came to his mind he would instantly push them aside, letting them rot at the very back of his mind, only to give y/n a reassuring smile when she, being the pure and kind soul that he had come to know her as; noticed and asked if he was alright.

“ Y-yeah I’m fine y/n, please don’t worry about me. “

It would be the answer that he would hear himself give every single time when in reality he wasn’t alright and that kind smile that he had come to love almost stung as he knew it was only out of concern for a friend. How he wished that there was love and affection, even if it was just the smallest amount, behind that smile. The thought of it being there was always something that would make his heart pound and race in his chest, even if it was only a fraction of the caliber of love that he felt towards y/n

Y/n and the rest of class-1A did not know this, as it was something that he wanted to keep to himself, but lately, amidst the notes and drawings of hero related content that filled the pages, there was something else that he had taken to writing down in his notebook. Perhaps it was a little obsessive of him, no it definitely was, he knew that, but information on y/n sat at the back of the notebook, separated from the intel of hero and given its own little space. The information ranged from a variety of things, from y/n’s hobbies, her quirk, her strengths, her weaknesses and her personality, each time he would discover something new about y/n he would write it down with the rest of the information when he was alone. Midoriya didn’t know when he had begun to do this, but the reason for doing so felt...Oddly justified in a sense, as the reason why he had started writing down these little notes and key points on y/n, was the thought that if he learned everything he could about her, then he had a higher chance of winning y/n’s heart.

He had never been the best when it came to confessing his feelings for someone- much less a beautiful girl that he considered to be extremely out of his league;  swooning someone with charming words of flattery was likely something more suited to someone else; for people who could easily walk up to a girl with confidence; charm a girl and make them blush while their hearts pounded; whereas he would likely only blush and stumble over his words if he even attempted to do the same thing. However, after working up enough courage to do so he had gone with the option of dropping subtle hints, from, albeit shyly, giving compliments on y/n’s hair, telling y/n how well the clothes she was wearing suited her, to simply refuting y/n any time she talked herself down due to insecurities. This also included inviting her to get ice cream, as it was summer and he knew that y/n’d likely be boiling from the heat, something that did not help the intensive training that would often occur during his and y/n’s free time if it didn’t happen during class.

However, where at first he had barely been able to contain his excitement at the thought of going for ice cream with y/n as thoughts spun around in his head, it had ended much differently from how he had wanted it to go due to how oblivious she turned out to be with things like this and instead y/n had only blinked and gave a big smile as she continued to enjoy the outing, while he wanted nothing more than to slap himself silly right there and there. He wasn’t surprised that the so-called ‘ date ‘ that he had been so excited for had turned out be something that had only been an outing between ‘ friends ‘ and as both he and y/n made their way back to the dorms, Deku could feel his heart deflate more and more with every step that he took, but as disappointment stung and tore at his heart, a frustration settled within him as well; one that came out of his inability and failure of being unable to tell y/n what he was really thinking- what he really wanted. It was something that should have been so simple but here he was stumbling at every turn and continuously running into obstacles; as if the word felt like kicking him in the chest once more for good measure.

He wanted to tell you her so badly, tell her how he truly felt, almost as badly as he wanted to win her beautiful heart but... Like most things- most dreams- there was always an obstacle as one more kick was launched at his chest in the form of this new piece of information that he had learned from Kirishima and his other friends.

Something that left him feeling completely shattered as his heart was left in broken pieces within his chest.

Y/n had a crush on Ka-chan.

Midoriya could feel nothing but numbness at hearing this, and after a brief moment, he quickly realized that he was in shock, the same kind of numbing shock that he had felt when the doctor had said that he would never develop a Quirk of his own. Shortly after he had gotten back to the dorms he had gone straight to his room while giving the reason that he wasn’t feeling very well from something that he’d eaten earlier and because of that he was turning in early. When Iida had mentioned that he could give him something to help remedy it, Izuku had been grateful that he was trying to help but he really just wanted to be alone right now and so, he had politely insisted that he’d be better after getting some rest with a reassuring smile.

The notebook lay open on his lap while his fingers held the pen, taking pen to paper he began to write down what he’d learned, but he could barely write down the words Y/N has a crush on Ka before the pen fell from his hand, landing on the floor with a brief and barely audible sound before it rolled a short distance away from his feet and stopped when it was directly in the middle of the beige carpeted floor. The usually spacious dorm room that he had come to call his home suddenly seemed tiny and the silence that settled sounded nearly deafening as he simply sat there on his bed; notebook still open on his lap, pen still in the middle of the floor; the bangs of his green hair shadowing his leaf green hues; only to widen slightly as his body gave an involuntary flinch at the sound of something suddenly cutting the silence in half if but for a second. His eyes slowly shift to where he had heard the noise, only to narrow in puzzlement at noticing the small wet spot that was now on the page, smudging the ink that made up the beginning of the sentence that he had just written down.

Was he-? Oh- Maybe that’s why his chest felt so tight and why he could feel something wet making their way down his cheeks. Tears had come to be something that he knew quite well after all, due to the hardships that he and the others had to endure, but this...There were no words to describe just how much it hurt and as he realized that he was crying; only more continued to fall as the ones that had welled up in his eyes shortly followed after; as a small sad smile came to his lips, regardless of how he felt too weak to make it genuine or happy.

“ Of course...Of course, she likes Ka-chan...He’s amazing. They both are...Why would someone as amazing as her fall for someone like me..? “

His voice came out weak as the sorrow in his eyes and expression seeped into every word as they left his lips. More tears continued to fall, each one falling on the page but he didn’t care as he raised his free hand up to clutch his chest; as if it would somehow help with the agony that he could feel at that moment and moments after the tears began to fall at a faster pace, Midoriya’s head drooped as the weak smile fell from his expression, the only sounds being his quiet sobs and the sound of tears falling onto the page of the book. However the same could not be said for the screaming that his emotions were doing inside of him as frustration, despair and heartache all blurred together, one that gave space for the resentment that he’d always felt for Kachan. Yes he’d always thought that Kachan was amazing, but he’d also resented him in a way and he’d hated him for how he treated him in school for having dreams of being a hero while being ‘ A quirkless loser ‘ but for him to have been able to win Y/N’s affections so easily while he had been struggling to just confess and show her how he truly felt was something that only added to that resentment as the hatred he’d felt back then sparked again and the anger joined the flurry of emotions inside of him as his gritted and narrowed his eyes, before scowling down to the written and now blurry Ka.

It wasn’t fair...Ever since they were kids Kachan had always been the one with everything, an awesome quirk, friends; a place that he could fit in; whereas he was thrown away, tossed to the side and picked on simply for not being like the others. Kachan- No- Katsuki Bakugo was a bully who was horrible to people, even to his friends- So why did he deserve an angel like Y/N? He was the one who was nice to her, he was the one who had told her specifically that if she ever needed anything that he would be right there for her; even if it was just a shoulder. He was the one that worshiped the very ground she walked on; who hung on every word like they were drops of gold; he was the one that was clearly the better of the two compared to that bully Katsuki Bakugo so why?! Katsuki Bakugo had always had everything! So why was he the one who got Y/N’s affection!??

Did he even know?? Of course, he didn’t- Midoriya knew that the most important thing that mattered to Bakugo was becoming the world's greatest hero, being number one, even surpassing All Might; in fact, he’d made it very clear time and time again that he would crush anyone who got in his way to do so, being number one was all that mattered to him; so, of course, he wouldn’t know that the sweetest and most beautiful person in the world had fallen for him.

Bitter jealousy, resentment, and anger towards the blonde swirled around Midoriya like an all-consuming Typhon and for just a moment, he found himself wishing that he hadn’t held back at the start, even if it was just a little, that night when he and Kachan had fought before giving the fight his all, but then, an idea came to his mind as realization made his sorrowful eyes light up with an idea. Since she liked Kachan, that just meant that he had to surpass Katsuki Bakugo and given as he had already set his mind to do just that long before he’d learned this shattering detail about his angel, it only fueled him with more motivation.

Instantly his thoughts began to work inside of his head like clockwork as ideas and ways to win Y/N’s heart and affection away from Bakugo whirled around in his head. Was it a petty thing to do? Yes, it was, but...At that moment the heartache was gasoline to the thoughts that were welling up inside of his head, and the smoke was so heady he found himself not caring whether it was, or not. He wanted his angel to return his feelings and he’d do it whatever way he had to if it meant protecting her from Kachan who he knew would likely only leave her kind and beautiful heart shattered into a thousand pieces, a feeling that he now knew quite well.

Eyes puffy from the tears that he had spent what must’ve been a few hours shedding, he stands up from his bed after placing the book aside and walks over to the pen that was still on the floor; before bending down and picking it up, standing up straight again and walking back over to his bed and sitting back down. Without looking at the page where he’d written that damnable beginning of a sentence, he tore it from the notebook and scrunched the paper into a ball before tossing it into the nearby bin.

Turning over to a new page, the pen met paper once again as his hand and mind worked in tandem, his eyes were faintly narrowed in concentration and focus as the pen feverishly ran across the page; while quiet once again settled inside of the room, the only sound this time being the movements of the pen as he wrote.

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That morning as he walked into class, he could feel determination coursing through him like electricity through an electrical switch, so much so that he couldn’t help think if this is what Denki’s quirk felt like. He knew it would likely have the others questioning it, but he only shrugged it off. He had one thing on his mind and that was the plan that he had stayed up all night to write and think up; unfortunately, this meant that he felt a little tired from the lack of sleep, but he knew it would be worth it if all went well and as the end of class came he couldn’t have been more relieved. Nervous yes, in fact very nervous but he’d been thinking about it so much that he’d barely be able to focus on anything, which unfortunately earned him a scolding from Mr. Aizawa, whom he apologized to immediately after... Still, he only continued to smile as he made his way down the halls and as optics of leaf green fell on Y/N he could feel his heart stop for just a moment in his chest; before starting once again in the same pounding rhythm that it always would whenever he was around Y/N. Or...Even when he just thought about Y/N.

For a second he found himself stopping as his footsteps came to a halt, leaving him standing there in the middle of the hall before he shook off the nervousness that had begun to settle inside of him and jogged over to her retreating form, easily catching up to her walking pace.

“ Hey Y/N, I’m sorry if this is sudden but are you free right now? “

He knew she was, but he asked anyway, all the while feeling heat rise to his cheeks at being this close to her, the beautiful smile that came to her expression only making his heart skip another beat as she responded with a brief shake of her head.

“ No, not particularly. Why? Did you want to go somewhere? “

Even when he felt his heart flutter once again at how welcoming Y/n was to the idea, he forced himself to stay cool, but at the same time, he couldn’t help the shy smile that came to him as he gave a nod. Reaching into his bag, his gaze drifted to the side for just a brief moment as his hand fished around only to bring out two tickets to the movies, the same one that he knew she’d been wanting to see for an entire month due to her mentioning it in class, even if it at times wasn’t directed at him. The way y/n’s eyes lit up with excitement, shock and joy-filled him with an unmistakable sense of joy at knowing that he had been the cause; whenever y/n got excited was always something that he’d found adorable as whenever she would it was like little fireworks were going off in her eyes as her lips would form into this near childishly innocent smile.

“ I was actually wondering if you wanted to go see this with me. “

As no words came from Y/N the beginnings of panic set into Midoriya.

Oh no. Had he been too shy with the invitation he hadn’t just ruined it had- Just before his thoughts can continue he couldn’t help but stare for just a moment as a lovely shade of pink- was that rose…?- came to y/n’s cheeks, the blush setting his heart ablaze with a hope that he knew would be visible in his eyes as she nodded, the smile still on her expression.

“ I’d love to. “

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He couldn’t believe it. In fact, he still couldn’t from when they arrived at the movie theater, to when they sat down in their seats. It felt so surreal but it also felt romantic, he hadn’t been on a date before but how they had sat down at the very back of the theater, almost as if they were separated from everyone else felt intimate in a way and as he just sat there, eyes looking to the screen, he could barely help the smile that was currently on his lips.

This...This was so...Perfect, being this close to Y/N.

The movie was the furthest from Izuku’s mind as his gaze continued to glance at Y/N every so often and for a moment, his eyes went to her hand as it rested on the armrest of the seat, it was so close to his own that he could almost touch it and at that moment he wanted to; he wanted to take her hand in his and interlock their fingers together or just place his over her own gently and intimately as he’d once seen in a movie, he knew it was likely most considered very cheesy to think of but it was still something that his thoughts were screaming at him to do. Thinking about this for a moment longer, the same thought that he’d had last night repeats in his head once more.

I will win the Y/N’s heart. No matter what.

Gently placing his hand over her own, his gaze fixed on the movie screen before he peeks a glance at Y/N at noticing her eyes on him from the corner of his eye, feeling her eyes on him and as he made out that same rosy pink blush that had earlier come to her cheeks in the dim lighting that was only offered by the movie screen as her expression was nothing short of surprise, he couldn’t help but smile at her in response. How Y/N never moved her hand away from his own only made his heart swell in his chest, he was happy...Beyond happy actually, the events of last night couldn’t be further from his mind. That was...Until the night ended and the words had left Y/N’s lips.

“ I-I’m...Deku I’m so sorry but...I like someone else. “

Happiness was a cruel and heartless mistress at times... He supposed he should’ve expected as much as he’d given the confession with the confidence that he’d felt; even if his cheeks were still dark red from blush, as his head was slightly bowed. Hearing the rumor from Kirishima and the others had felt like a knife had been plunged deep into his heart, but hearing them straight from those lovely lips of Y/N’s own mouth? He could feel his heart once again cracking all over again, just as it had last night.

“Y-You...What..? “

The guilt, remorse, and sympathy that he could hear in y/n’s voice only worsened the blow as eye/colored hues were lowered, successfully avoiding his gaze but just before she could utter out that those two words once more, the words escaped Izuku before he could make an effort to hold them back and at that moment, as he felt something else begin to crack inside of him...He felt no desire to.

“ It’s Kachan isn’t it. “

As shock came over Y/N’s face Izuku knew that she was perfectly justified to make that expression with how he’d spoken the question but instead of apologizing, his bore into her own expectantly as he waited for her to answer. In the brief silence that settled, destroying any sense of peace or romance that could’ve been there beforehand, Izuku found himself hoping that she’d refute his statement, that she’d say that she didn’t like Kachan and instead liked him but some dreams don’t last long and it was only made that much clearer to him as the beginning of her response left her lips

“ How-? “

“ I heard Kirishima and the others mention it. “

Not wanting to hear the question his response came quick. He didn’t want to hear it...He didn’t want to hear how her heart was still pining for Kachan...The mere thought was enough to make him want to scream, it made him sick as the first embers of hatred that had stirred to life from the ashes of the faint glow that had been there at middle school; began to gradually turn into a roaring flame and one that was only getting stronger the moment this moment played out; and the same pain in his chest that he’d felt last night came back to him once more

“ He doesn’t deserve an Angel like you. Y/N, can’t you see? He only cares about becoming number one, y-you don’t matter at all to him! He’ll only leave your heart in pieces. “

The passion and plea that twinged his eyes seeped into every syllable as he spoke, and although he felt guilt and remorse for the pain that flashed over y/n’s expression his lips parted again, but the smile that came to her expression caused him to freeze and all he could, was stare back into y/n’s eyes, eyes that held so much acceptance and sadness...

“ I know..But that’s okay, I don’t mind, I want him to achieve that goal. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way that I do for him, I don’t mind. I just want him to be happy. “

She didn’t mind…? He didn’t understand...Y/n was willing to let herself be left in the dust if it meant Kachan’s happiness? Of course, Izuku understood that, as he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do the exact same thing for Y/N but now was not one of those times, not when it came to her heart possibly being left in tatters because of Katsuki Bakugo, he couldn’t allow that to happen! Yet...She wouldn’t listen, every word that was coming out of her mouth only clarified just how much she loved Kachan and each syllable gave another slice to his heart; as the tightness only increased and hot tears began to well in his eyes. His lips formed in a shaky line as his eyes narrowed in pain.

“ Why? W-Why can’t you just let me love you..? I-I care about you. N-No I love you...I love you so much..I’d do anything for you, anything you ask and I’d do it without question so why? “ his hand balled up into a fist as he bit into his bottom lip as if to distract himself from the tears he knew were mere seconds away from falling, but it was no use and as his head drooped the tears ran down his cheeks as his voice escaped in a pained cry.

“ Why does it have to be Kachan?!! I’d do anything for you! I’m the one that’s been there for you the most! So why can’t you just love me instead?!! “ each syllable was just as hysteric and pained as the tears streaming down his cheeks, the silence on y’n's end only provoking only more tears.

Why…? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t the plan he’d made just work out but...He supposed...That was just how things were...Right? At this thought, something in him clicks...Yeah...Yeah, it was...Maybe he should’ve just resorted to that method all along... Regardless of how it wasn’t very ‘ Hero ‘ like.

That something that he could feel cracking moments before snaps, and as it does, the numbness that he felt at that moment didn’t allow him to care...It was new...This strange feeling of detachment, but as y/n’s voice spoke out in concern it only sounded like pretty music a requiem of concern that was likely only provoked by his sudden silence.

“ D-Deku? A-Are you okay? “

Lifting his gaze to y/n’s, he only smiled

“ I’m fine Angel. I’m sorry if I startled you by raising my voice so much. “

Skepticism passed through y/n’s eyes before it changed to relief, but Deku’s smile never fades as it only remained on his expression, he could still see the guilt and remorse in her eyes as she stepped closer to him with hesitant steps that reminded him of a hesitant kitten rather than the angel he knew she was, and as she gently and softly wrapped her arms around him in a hug; a spark of happiness flashed through him, but the numbness remained even as one of his hands slipped in and out of his pockets before returning the embrace.

“ Deku- “

Any words that y/n had been about to say died in the wake of the quiet gasp that left her lips, as the needle of the syringe; the same one that he’d taken from the nurse's office was now buried in the side of her y/n’s neck. Keeping it there just long enough for the sleep-inducing drug that was inside of the syringe to be emptied into her body, before gently removing the needle and placing the syringe back inside of his pocket. His embrace around her was loving, gentle and protective yet firm as he supported her own wait with his own as the drug quickly began to take over; the ability to talk fading fast due to drowsiness as the only sounds that she could give at that moment were meek whimpers and short sentences, subsequently reducing y/n’s voice to a meek, sleepy whisper.

“ D-De...Ku..W-What…? “

Even in her hazy state, the fear that he could hear in y/n’s voice was not hard to miss as his hand softly rubbed slow circles on her back in soothing motions; his other gently running over y/n’s soft tresses as he whispered in her ear.

“ Shh, it’s okay Angel. You’re going to be okay. I’m sorry I had to do this...I didn’t want to do this... But it was the only way I could protect you. I love you, Angel...You’ll see that...Eventually. Just sleep for now. I promise I’ll be right here. “

Lifting y/n into his arms as her trembling form went limp due to unconsciousness, Deku’s gaze remained on y/n’s sleeping face, the smile still on his lips as the pure, passionate love that he felt towards Y/N; one that would be seen through every compliment and every smile that he would give her was now joined by something else, an obsession that twisted the once pure emotions into something frightening and twisted.

Yes, he knew it was wrong, but heroes protected people and the people they cared about, and in this case, he was protecting his Angel from those who sought to hurt her beautiful heart...Even if he knew that he didn’t deserve y/n’s heart or her himself. His eyes scan around the area for a brief moment, checking again to see if no one was around before looking back down to his now sleeping Angel. Lowering his lips to her forehead and placing a soft kiss, only to whisper, in a hushed but gentle voice, a gentleness that contradicted the frightening madness that had taken root after something had snapped inside of him.

“ Sleep well, My Angel. “

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Warped Cosmology

the series read as follows:

Superman … Monday … Cheezy Pouffs … Bacon … Stumbling … Trail Mix …  Punch … Friday … Preparation … Uncle Mudler … Normal … Backseat … Mudler-sense … The FBI … Unthinkable … Patience … Elephant Jokes … Cooking … Rickety Tables … Mr. Skimmer … Bert and Ernie … Midnight Confessions … The Moon … Bright Sunshine … Graying Skies … Darkened Night … Possibilities … A Thing with You ... Humming and Thrumming

@today-in-fic​

____________

He let her sleep, disappearing at dawn for a run, then sneaking quietly about the apartment, showering, eating, dressing, leaving again, this time with a note stating he’d be back by noon or before or after, depending on sun angles and Sno-Cone sale prices.

She found said note around 8:45am and promptly returned to bed, amused by how amused she was in her present situation. She’d never woken up in his bed, alone, with his note stating where he was and she’s sure as hell never crawled back into his bed to stretch luxuriously, surrounded by Mulderness and wrinkled sheets. Head nested perfectly in the pillow, she studied his ceiling, then his walls, the windows, curtains, blinds, dresser, mirror, shelves, shoes and map.

She was also naked.

That was possibly the best part.

She was naked and warm and cozy and had absolutely nowhere to go and nothing to do.

And she was in Mulder’s bed.

It was enough to send her rolling to her side, grinning into dented pillow like a college girl who’d just spent her first night in her boyfriend’s apartment. She was too damn old for that feeling but there it was, fluttering her chest, quaking her insides, wondering when he’d return and if he’d jump back in beside her.

Shutting her eyes, she pictured him sliding towards her, naked thighs pressing into hers, chest to back, lips to neck, hand to clit, face buried in the pillow for very different, sound-deadening reasons.

Yeah, she wasn’t waiting for him to get back to take care of a few things.

And she discovered that most of her recent nosebleeds came a few minutes after she did.

&&&&&&&&&

Showered, dressed, bed made, apartment cleaned, lunch debated, trash out, doctor appointment set, she settled down to check her work email, allowing one little slice of reality to intrude into an otherwise self-contained perfection. She was not pleased with the amount in her inbox and setting about deleting crap after crap, she only stopped when she heard the front door open.

Turning in the office chair, which creaked with every degree, she saw his solemn face, any hint of mirth wiped clean, “what happened?”

“Skinner called.”

She dropped him at the airport an hour later, her ticket not until the following evening, after her appointment, “no, you are not canceling, I don’t care how much you fight me, you are not canceling.”

Relenting quickly, not wanting to forgo her appointment any more than he did, “I will fly out tomorrow evening, okay?”

And she kissed him goodbye, apartment to airplane service, “I’ll let you know when I land.”

Tugging on his ear lightly, “you better.”

Once he disappeared into the bowels of the airport, she drove off, oddly empty inside at the unexpected parting and equally unexpected free afternoon and evening. Heavy debate happened between returning to Mulder’s apartment, going to Maggie’s to collect their things, going to work or going to her own apartment, a place she’d barely seen in a good month or so.

Cleaning orgy at her apartment won out, the dust a fine layer, the sense of abandonment acute … the reeking nightmare of rotting hell from the garbage grinder heavy in its revulsion. She’d stopped or had Mulder stop, to get her mail but never needing to get beyond the mailbox in the lobby, neither had smelled, once she’d inspected with flashlight and hesitating fingers, the small chunk of chicken skin wedged to the side of the disposal. Face wrinkled in disgust, she retrieved it, bagged it, washed her hands, emptied the fridge and immediately took out the trash. Next, windows opened, baking soda poured and grinder run, she moved on to the rest of the apartment, half wondering why, every time Mulder went somewhere without her, she cleaned.

It took a few hours to work through things, dinner break included but soon enough, her apartment was spotless, empty and just a tad lonely. She’d been surrounded by children, Mulder, mother and colleagues for weeks now and the stilled silence made her restless for contact, conversation, rescue from her own twisting thoughts.

Maggie for the win as she could hear Mulder saying in her head.

Arriving unannounced at her mother’s, she found several cars in and around the driveway. Making her way in, wondering if she ought to have called first, “Mom?”

Her mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen, “honey, we’re back here.”

She found her way to the kitchen, dropping off shoes and bag on the way, spying Frohike first, then Jake and Charlie, the biggest surprise being Skinner, in t-shirt and jeans, drinking a beer and in deep discussion with Byers. It was enough to stop her in her tracks and honest to God, shake her head in confusion. Delaying her ‘hello’ a moment, she finally returned to the warped cosmology of present day kitchen, “hi. What’s … what’s going on?”

Smiling as her daughter attempted a smooth entrance, “Melvin had some things he promised to show Jake so he and John came by for dinner along with your brother and nephew.” She saw Scully’s eye flit momentarily to Skinner and she continued, “and Walter needed another home cooked meal so I decided to feed them all. I would have called but I didn’t know when Fox was flying out.”

For no real good reason, she blushed, the discussion of her and Mulder floating out there, common and every day at the dinner table with friends and family carrying on their business without even a hiccup in the conversation. Wondering what the hell had happened to her world, she pulled up a chair, joining the fray, spending the next two hours in familial familiarity.

Eventually hugging her brother and her nephew goodbye, then, more awkwardly, Frohike and Byers, she was left with her mother and Skinner. She watched them both standing at the front door, waiting for the Gunmen to pull away from the curb. They were an awkwardly tall and small pair, her mother still balancing on crutches and boots, her boss with his hand friendly on her elbow, keeping her upright, the set looking, somehow, in some parallel universe … like they were supposed to be there, doing that exact thing, at that exact time … all the time.

She stared for too long apparently, because suddenly, there they were, looking at her, Maggie smiling, Skinner wondering, Scully dismissing outlandish ideas and poppycock notions as her grandmother used to say, “honey?”

Scully gave her standard, ‘I’m good’ smile, “yeah, sorry, just … lost track of time for a minute.” Turning on her heel, “I’ll go start the dishes.”

Maggie clumped after her, Skinner following behind, “you don’t have to do that. I can get them tomorrow.”

Hand already on faucet, “I don’t mind.” Calling to her boss, “Walter, grab a towel.”

“Back to Walter, I see,” as he retrieved the dish towel to begin drying.

“Dry them well, Walter or mom will make you wash them again.”

“Running a tight ship there, Maggie?”

Settling at the counter on a stool, Maggie reached for a stray cookie, “with four kids, it was tight ship or no ship and no ship meant chaos.” The silence hung only for a minute before Maggie broke it again, “Dana, what doctor’s appointment do you have tomorrow?”

Sidelong look at Skinner, who trained his gaze out the window, holding onto a shred of innocence, however falsely, given he knew she knew he spilled the beans about why she hadn’t gone with her partner. Had he been Mulder, she would have swung her leg up and kicked him in the rear end, “now, just promise not to get nervous, please, all right?”

“Dana, that is the silliest thing to tell someone and you know it. Now talk.”

“My nose has bled a few more times and Mulder made me promise to go back to the doctor. I made the appointment before Skinner … Walter …” glancing at him, “it really is awkward not to know which to call you now,” looking back at her mother, she continued, “called Mulder so Mulder told me to stay and fly out tomorrow after the appointment. Luckily he knows the sheriff and such out in Phoenix so he’ll have help until I get there.”

“Mulder told you to do something?” Skinner looked quite surprised, figuring Mulder would be dead if he ever told her to do anything.

“I know. I’m shocked I didn’t kill him on the spot.” Bouncing half a smile from Skinner to her mother, “things will be fine but I’d like to get to the bottom of this. I have a few ideas what it might be and I’ll take a look at the MRI myself as well.”

Maggie kept her motherly panic and clenched muscles to herself, exuding calm where no calm existed at present, “would you like company? You can pick me up and I can go with you.”

Knowing her mother and knowing the panic therein, nodded, “I’d like that. Thanks. I have the scan at 7am but I’ll come by and pick you up for the appointment around 3.”

“It’s nearly nine now. You should go home and get to bed if you want to be on-time.”

Once a mom, always a mom, regardless of age, stature and profession of children and she adored it, “I’ll head out in a few minutes. Just want to finish this and get some of my stuff from upstairs.”

Skinner finished his chore a moment after Scully, then, “I should be going as well.” Looking at Scully, “you’re not the only one who has somewhere to be at 7am tomorrow.”

Naturally, Maggie asked where and un-naturally, Skinner answered, an oddness in his voice conveying the nature of his life, a life where no one asked anything because there was no one to do the asking. Scully recognizing the familiar tone as well, having heard it from Mulder for the first year of their partnership, when she would inquire about his weekend or the new pile of books that appeared on the corner of his desk, the rustiness of voice, the stilted words trying to form a proper, conversational sentence.

She hugged him when she left, leaving him to put on his shoes while she headed out into the night.

[3rdgymbros]

no hell had ever burned so sweet

A/N: This was inspired by @hanihana's wonderful comic on tumblr, and I hope I've done her art justice! If you haven't already seen the villain! katsudeku AU, you totally should. That being said, this is my first time writing katsudeku (let alone in an AU setting), and I hope I haven't made them too OOC! Please scream at me in the tags or in the inbox!! (There’s slight NSFW, so it’s been put under a read-more~)

Kendou finds him in the morning, poring thoughtfully over his collection of notebooks. He’s spread them out on his desk; there are only a few blank pages left in his latest one, and he’s managed to add an entry or two about some upcoming heroes who have managed to catch his eye. Soon, the book itself will need to be changed, and maybe he’ll write more in it, when all he sees is his own writing.

“I’ve got news, boss.” She says by way of greeting, waving a sheath of newspapers about in the air.

Izuku lets out a noncommittal hum, studying the auburn haired girl as she strides into the room. Exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter drags at him like wet winter clothes after a swim. The king-sized bed had felt empty, wrong, without Kacchan in it beside him, and he hadn’t felt like crawling into a bed that was far too big for him and attempting the farce of sleeping.

Not that they’ve been doing much sleeping as of late.

Even in the bedroom, Kacchan had an improper tongue. Hearing those sweet, filthy words pouring out of his mouth was always a turn-on, and he’d come right on the spot, with only Kacchan’s hot mouth wrapped around his dick. Surprisingly receptive, Kacchan had mercilessly exploited his weakness; taunting him with all the things he planned to do to Izuku once they were alone, unravelling Izuku with both his words and body whenever they kissed and touched and fucked – though not always in bed.

“Boss.”

How persistent. But Kendou’s voice is enough to clear the lust fogging up his mind.

The mantle of responsibility falls hard back onto his shoulders. Izuku takes Kendo in with tired, lidded eyes, his expression giving nothing away. He might be running on fumes, but his mind is as alert as ever, going full speed with his observations.

She’s wearing makeup and perfume. Subtle, smells like vanilla and marigolds. The jacket’s new, she bought it last week. Her boots are a little too tight; they’re pinching her toes on the left foot. The dress is low-cut and flashy; she’s planning to go out for some fun. Her mouth is turned down at the corners, her eyebrows are drawn together.

“Bad news, hm~?”

There’s a statement behind the honey-laced question, and Kendou knows it. Tension pinches her freckled cheeks and rapidly drives the colour from her complexion. Izuku studies her all the while, a specimen under the microscope.

He waits.

Her expression closes and darkens. “It’s Bakugou. He’s . . .”

The very name chases wishes of sleep from his head and battles the exhaustion back to the periphery of his mind.

“What about Kacchan?”

Rage eats at his calm. His anger burns brightly. He knows that Kacchan’s more than capable of looking after himself, but his childhood friend has been the only constant in his life, and Izuku knows, without a shadow of a doubt that he’d kill anyone who dared to lay a finger on his Kacchan.

“It’s Bakugou,” Kendou says again, almost ruthlessly calm and unperturbed by the dark anger colouring his voice. She’s one of the few people who aren’t put off by his volatile mood swings, and talks to him freely, without fear of any repercussions. She can lift twice Izuku’s body weight and works harder than anyone to make sure the underlings aren’t causing any unnecessary trouble and drawing too much attention. Izuku’s grateful to have her around. “The pro-heroes caught him. He’s under heavy guard now, but our intel says he’ll be transferred to a maximum-security prison in approximately three hours.”

“Ah.” As if a switch has been thrown, Izuku relaxes and grins at Kendou. “Well, that’s fine then. You should have said something sooner, Kendou-chan!” He arranges his notebooks in a neat pile upon his desk, changing the subject with ease. “Do you want to grab some breakfast? I need some caffeine in my system.”

“I don’t mind, but – Wait. Boss. We have more important things to worry about – How is everything fine?”

His smile grows. “All we have to do is get Kacchan out before they transfer him, right? Problem solved.” Izuku hums thoughtfully. “On second thought, maybe we should postpone breakfast, hmm? I should probably get going.”

“Alone?”

“Well, seeing as how you’re busy going on dates with that boyfriend of yours –”

She flushes a bright shade of red that clashes horribly with her auburn hair. “It is not a date, I’m just –”

It’s always so easy to push her buttons. Izuku takes in her embarrassment with cold and detached amusement before waving a dismissive hand in her direction. “That’s fine. Have fun on your nondate with your nonboyfriend Monoma. No objections here.” His voice sharpens. “I’ll go and get Kacchan alone.”

His hands are sticky, stained red with blood. He wishes he’d worn his gloves today.

They’ve put Bakugou in a lightless place, stagnant and airless. Filth and despair seems to clog his every pore. He’s grown used to spending a life in the darkness, but it doesn’t suit his Kacchan, a force larger than life, a typhoon that hates to be contained.

The corridor is about thirty yards long, with cells on both sides. Some are padded cells with an observation window, long and narrow like an archery slit; in the centre of the door. Others are standard prison cells, with a wall of bars opening on the corridor. Izuku is aware of figures moving in the cells, but he spares them nothing, not even a glance.

He could care less if they rot to death in here.

His objective is one person only.

Bakugou’s cell is well beyond the others, facing only a closet across the corridor. It’s the only one fortified with heavy double doors of iron and steel. They’ve spared no expense in keeping him locked up, it seems. Izuku presses the button beside the doors, waiting for them to hiss apart and announce his arrival.

The cell is spotlessly white and brightly lit. Izuku walks in, his footfalls the only sound in the otherwise silent room, and takes it all in with a contemplative hum. Heavy canvas webbing keeps Bakugou bound tightly to a thick slab of concrete bolted to the floor. Barbed wire rings his neck, his chest, his arms. Beneath the webbing he wears a straitjacket and leg restraints.

Up close, Bakugou looks fine. His hair still sticks up in messy, unkempt spikes; his face is pale, the stark absence of colour emphasizing his brilliantly red irises. His lips are chapped and his nose is pink. He raises his head and grins as Izuku approaches. His eyes run up and down Izuku lazily, like the stroking paws of a cat.

Izuku’s answering smile is as sharp as the edge of a blade.

Bakugou’s straightforward desire is enjoyable. No seduction, no pretence. His want is simple, and he does nothing to hide it or dress it under honeyed words.

“What took you so fucking long, Deku?”

Even chained up and bound with all manners of tracking devices, Bakugou is still as cocky as ever. A mocking edge to his question, made all the more pronounced by the rasp in his voice makes Izuku’s stomach flutter. It brings sex to mind. Extraordinary sex.

The thought of his Kacchan tied and bound up with a length of rope, spread out prettily on their bed, writhing and moaning Izuku’s name over and over again, coming undone while Izuku pounds into him makes for a pretty picture, and sends a white-hot desire trammelling through Izuku’s veins.

His lips are dry, so Izuku licks them before answering, “Sorry, Kacchan. It took me a while to bypass their security system.”

“Heh?” Bakugou asks, teasing and mischievous, “The heroes gave you a hard time to save me, huh?”

Izuku’s eyes darken with desire. Bakugou licks his own lips, mirroring his gesture from several minutes before, as though he knows what Izuku’s thinking. Kacchan’s there. Right there. All perfect and gorgeous and smelling of soap and sweat. If they weren’t hard-pressed for time, Izuku would be fucking Bakugou senseless here and now, hearing him scream and beg as his nails rake their way down Izuku’s back –

“No, no, don’t worry about that.” Izuku smiles angelically, in a way that completely dismisses the other’s concerns. “Getting through their defenses was actually fun.”

Izuku bubbles out a laugh that’s tinged with mania. He’s lost count of the number of heroes he’s killed, the wake of bodies he’s left in his rampage; the only evidence he has is staining his hands, dripping and splattering onto the linoleum tiles in a soft crimson rain. “But Kacchan, saving people is what heroes do. And I’m not a hero. Neither are you. We abandoned that title a long time ago, remember?”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Bakugou hums in approval, the sound as warm as bathwater.

It manages to bring a genuine smile to Izuku’s face. Few things these days have the ability to make Izuku happy – and even now, Kacchan can still make him smile. It’s something that hasn’t changed from when they were kids, bright-eyed and young and naïve, playing at being heroes with sticks and capes made of blankets.

Izuku isn’t connected to these dreams on a personal level. Not anymore.

“I’m not here to save you.” Izuku purrs, leaning forwards to nuzzle his nose along the sensitive spot behind Bakugou’s neck, so that his words vibrate into skin and bones. He can’t make Kacchan scream his name yet; but hearing his sudden, sharp intake of breath is enough to satiate him. For now. “I’m here to pick you up.”

It elicits a growl from Bakugou. “Quit teasing and just fucking kiss me already, Deku.”

Izuku bites back his amusement, running his fingers through the sweat-damp roots of ash blond hair. “Why, since you asked so politely, Kacchan!”

Izuku knows he’ll pay for it later, that he’ll be reduced to a quivering, panting mess on the bed, begging to feel Kacchan’s dick inside of him. But when Bakugou’s pupils darken, Izuku takes a single sip of his arousal and finds it exquisite. That’s enough teasing for today.

Chuckling lightly, Izuku leans forwards, mindful not to snag himself on the barbed wire. With another growl, Bakugou surges forward and kisses Izuku hard, bruising his lips. Izuku’s hands twine themselves in ash blond hair, fisting it roughly, holding him in place so he can’t turn away. He bites the tongue that Bakugou thrusts aggressively into his mouth, then his lower lip, tasting blood. Izuku sighs. A slow, hot trickle of arousal gathers deep in his bones.

“Let’s go home, Kacchan,” Izuku breathes against Bakugou’s mouth.

“Yeah, but before that –” The cutting rasp to Bakugou’s voice becomes more pronounced, and Izuku feels his stomach clench in anticipation.

“Hm?” Izuku hums lightly, feeling a dark grin spread across Bakugou’s lips.

“Release me and let me burn this place to the fucking ground.”

It’s incredibly easy to get Bakugou riled up, and each and every time, Izuku relishes the sight of it. A feral smile is stretched taut across his face. The sparks in his eyes fly into his darkness like fireflies down a cave.

God, how Izuku wants him. The craving hasn’t gone away, not even for a minute.

“Oh, Kacchan,” Izuku coos, his fingers already making quick work of the wires and straps, “Stop being so charming, will you?”

[manyfears-blog1]

Neibolt Blues

Prompt: Could I get a get a fic of reader feeling like an outcast among humanity. Like reader is just too strange and weird that most people find them off putting. (The story of my life.) And even when they make friends eventually there friends leave them because reader is a handful. They go to the creep house to be alone and sorta slump into a depressive state. Penny shows up and finds it weird why someone would actively come to "his" house. Reader is not scared, They are depressed its a whole different ballgame for the clown. Not sure what do with the human he allows them to stay around. Reader is thankful someone is there for them even its a murderous clown. Reader talks to him he listens, sorta. And thats enough for reader to feel listened to. Maybe reader leaves thanking him for listening. Then comes back and a bond starts to develop. Penny finds the reader so strange he likes them (He is quite a freak himself) and they both become friends.

Thank you so much @i-fuck-monsters for the prompt, I really do appreciate you messaging me!

So this one is a little long I’m sorry! I hope it isn’t too bland but I’ve never written something like this and enjoyed giving it a go. My inbox is always open <3

Words: 1684

You shove your hands into your side pockets and slink past pedestrians blocking your path; your breathing is sporadic as you hold back the tears welling up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You make your way through the town without drawing much attention, it almost feels like everyone around you sighs with relief at the thought of you leaving and never coming back, although you believe that to be true more than just a feeling, you stop at the edge of the footpath and stare into the road; replaying countless conversations, your brain cycles through all the people that you once called friends but have all left you like a run-down couch on the side of the road. With a huff, you kick a rock by your foot hard, not looking up to see where it travels but when you hear the ‘tink’ of it hitting a fence you look up, only then realizing you’re standing across from the infamous neibolt house. There are stories of something evil living inside that place, stories of people entering the house but never leaving, without hesitation, you walk straight for the door; the old wooden stairs wobble under your weight but without taking much notice you reach out and open the front door.

Once inside you scan the large room: It’s dusty and reeks of rotting meat, dead animals you assume, cob webs litter the peeling walls and dirt covers the deteriorating floorboards. The appearance doesn’t bother you and you make your way to an old couch stationed in the corner of the room but as you sit down a puff of dust further pollutes the air around you and you cough hoarsely, the coughing quickly turns to sobs and you lean on the arm of the couch and quietly weep. Deep down you hope the stories are true and you do go missing like the others.

The silence is disturbed by the sound of weighty footsteps stalking through the room not far around the corner near the staircase, slowly you lift your head from the arm and look around, heavy tears roll off your face and drop onto the old material below your head. It’s a tall, quite menacing looking, clown? Staring down at you with cold eyes. At least you think it is a clown but its palette is bland; dull, off-white costume with red ropes separating its arm sleeves and frills dangling over white gloved hands. You have no desire to properly analyse its wardrobe choices and gently rest your head back down although you’re still facing the weird clown but stare just past it. Something in the back of your mind is telling you you’re in danger but the mild concern is clouded again by the thick smog developing across your mind and throughout your body; your limbs are heavy, impossibly heavy, the ache in your heart has stopped and now you are numb, you’re not even really thinking anymore but just slowly embracing the nothingness the promises to relieve your invisible pain.

The clown is standing right next to you, still staring, it’s confused. Do you know it’s there? It feels nothing from you; no fear, happiness, not even an inch of curiosity? You might as well be part of the furniture as far as it’s concerned. It does detect a feeling but it wouldn’t know what to do with that: fear is sweet and enjoyable, whereas happiness is bitter. Prey without feeling fear tastes like cobwebs and mothballs but what if they are feeling nothing? The clown crouches next to you and forces its face into your distance field of view.

“Hello, Y/N!” it chirps happily. “You must be a little lost…What are you doing here?

The words rattle through your head a little making it hard to really make sense of the question. Silently you make proper eye-contact with it- the smile looks a little sinister but the fact it’s giving you attention catches you off-guard. Weird looking guy but it’s nice to have anything to talk to, really.

“Uh… Hey.” Your monotone voice creeps out of your throat. “I’m uh- I’m not lost, thanks.” Your dismissive responses show promise of ending any conversation, a tactic you know all too well used against you on the daily.

Before you drift away in thought again it talks to you again.

“Mind if I sit?” it asks, patting its hand on the cushion next to you.

“Sure.” Making sure to turn your head to avoid the dust assaulting your nose and throat again as it sits swiftly next to you, turning to face you.

“Why do you feel like this, Y/N? The emptiness is like nothing else.” The question is blunt and you have to repeat it in your mind to fully grasp the random intrusion by a creepy clown in an old house.

You give it all your attention now, your face red and puffy from crying and coughing.

“…Wait, who are you exactly?” your suspicious tone comes off harsher than expected.

“Oh! Well I’m Pennywise The Dancing Clown!” in his enthusiasm the bells on his costume jingle with his movements. Pennywise doesn’t give you time to respond- “You’re all alone, no friends, Y/N?” His tone becoming a little more derogatory. You used to be afraid of being alone, forgotten, hated, it used to keep you up at night with just the thought of everyone leaving you until it happened. One by one your ‘friends’ have left you. I just don’t think we should hang out spewing hate, twisting rumours to deter others from you You’re so annoying, Y/N, go bother someone else! This used to scare you and you could feel the familiar fear in the back of your mind but it was extinguished before it had a chance to manifest. Again, blank.

“Nope, not really, Penny- err?” The clown’s expression went blank for a brief second, like he was trying to conjure a different response, but his expression lifted slightly again. “Pennywise.”

“Well, Pennywise, I’m here because I want to disappear like the others, I’m already invisible to everyone else so I might as well..”

He seems to ponder over your response, what a weird clown, does he care about what I’m saying? Maybe he isn’t even real, maybe you’ve just-

“Really?” He interrupts- “Peculiar one you are, tell me.”

“Tell you…?” You ask, holding your head up higher to pay more attention to Pennywise.

“Tell me why you are feeling nothing, tell me what happened.”

You’re bewildered by his question, you perk up a little, straightening up your body more to face the clown sitting next to you and you scan his face suspiciously- You can’t read him like the others but you know the look of someone not caring, dismissing you like a fly on the table, but you don’t detect any hidden agenda to his questioning, in fact, he seems genuinely curious.

You take a big breath and tell him about your problems, it seemed so odd at first, you just met this thing and it has occurred to you it can’t be human but you’re not bothered by that in the slightest. It is more like talking to a very quiet, possibly disturbed, cat and you slowly begin to enjoy the time you spend with him on the dusty old couch. After a few minutes, you get up from the couch and walk around the decrepit house with Pennywise following you not too far behind, further supporting the disturbed cat theory, you talk and talk and without knowing, your spirit raises and you’re exploring the house more.

It’s late in the afternoon before you realise how long you have been here chatting and looking around, tripping over the occasional loose floorboard or rat carcass, but Pennywise caught you every time, giggling at your clumsiness.

“I should probably get going actually.” Realising the time, you look up at the clown, a little sad you should leave.

“Good.” He says, a little bluntly. You frown, have you annoyed him? He probably hates you like everybody-

“You didn’t disappear once in this house! Maybe you did something wrong...” He jokes, it takes a minute to process what he is saying but you begin to laugh, something so alien to you.

“You’re right, Penny.” You touch your face with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Maybe I should try again later?” Before he answers you leave the house and wave as you walk into the street.

 The next day you wake up feeling blue again, was yesterday a dream? Did you really meet some weird clown in the neibolt house? You begin to spiral out into your broken state again, so many scenarios buzzing through your skull you feel sick. Lying back in your bed with a thud you sigh loudly and stare out the window; the sky is grey and the sun is hidden by the thick clouds. Out of nowhere you get this feeling, it’s an odd feeling like someone is with you, in your presence but not present, it feels familiar and you start thinking about the day before again. You get a warm feeling inside of you, only just noticeable but you notice it.

Without much thought, you roll out of bed and quickly change clothes so it doesn’t look like you slept in the clothes from yesterday, you did, and race out of the house. Making your way through the twisting streets you finally spot Neibolt and you run towards the dilapidated dwelling. When you open the front door you briskly search the rooms for Pennywise, he isn’t here! You frown and turn to walk out but just as you do, you hear the familiar sound of bells tingling behind you, you turn and face the tall clown who is smiling down at you.

“Hiya, Y/N! You don’t seem so lost this time, want a balloon? He giggles at your surprised expression, you step forward, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah, lets hangout?”

“Yes.” He grins, you smile in return, the warm feeling in your heart spreads ever so slightly.

[allhallows-art]

Lost Generation // 12

Sorry I've not been posting this. I’ve been trying to get it caught up on AO3 first. Anyways, this silly little idea of a series has come so far and I must admit I’m quite proud of myself as well as thankful for the support. So here’s part 12. Part 13 will come out tomorrow. As always, reblog and like and send stuff to my inbox and what not.

P.S. thank you to @fics4you for just encouraging me to start this thing

Story Summary: The Achievement Hunter boys try and survive their preteen years, trying to make friends and sort out their own problems as well as each others. When will they realise that working together, no matter their differences, would help them all?

part summary: none. it’s a surprise. just read it and weep

Words: 1656

Warnings: couple of swears

MASTERLIST

“I could kill you, Ramsey,” the threat left Ryan’s pursed lips, his harsh eyes staring daggers at the boy sat in the seat next to him. The once busy classroom was now empty, only Ryan, Geoff, and Miss Dunkelman left. Geoff just rolled his eyes at Ryan’s words, shrugging them off. “Sure, you could,” he said, his voice already bored and they hadn’t even been there five minutes. Geoff continuously tapped his fingers on the desk, Ryan’s sight focusing on the hand. “Could you be more annoying?” the question was sarcastic, Geoff not even having the chance to open his mouth for a smart comment before Ryan’s hand shot out and slammed on Geoff’s. “Fuck! You asshole!” Geoff cursed at Ryan, cradling his hand to his chest despite it not really hurting. “Language, Geoff,” Miss Dunkelman scolded, glancing up from her work to see the boys looking as if they were about to launch at each other. “Can’t you two just get along? Surely you have something in common,” she spoke, pushing herself to her feet and walking towards them. Her actions caused Ryan to turn his attention from Geoff; a bad decision. “Geoff!” he yelled as the elder of the two slammed his hand on Ryan’s. As quickly as the teacher had distracted them, they were ready to attack again. Not on Barbra’s watch. She swiftly stepped in front of the desk and hit her palms on the wood, gaining their attention. “Stop being so immature, boys. No matter what, you’re stuck in here for the next hour. So, you either get along or sit in complete silence,” she said, her brows furrowed as she waited for a reply. Ryan sighed and Geoff just gave a small nod before looking at Ryan. “Do you play video games?” he asked, the start of conversation making the teacher smile and return to her desk. At least they were arguing. “Uh, no. my parents say they rot the brain. Although I did play a demo in a store once when shopping with my uncle.” Ryan’s words made Geoff’s jaw drop open, stunned.

“How have you survived without video games?” Geoff was utterly confused as to how Ryan entertained himself especially since he knew he wasn’t into sport after watching him yesterday. Ryan just gave him small a shrug. “Lots of reading, only when I could escape the absolute hell that is youth club,” Ryan spoke and visibly shivered. “Imagine a summer camp but instead it’s just a daytime thing, at a church, where all the activities are all Christian friendly and they practically swaddle you in bubble wrap.” “A summer long Sunday school? Boring,” Geoff grimaced at the thought. “Yeah, it was. Not a single kid my age either. It was humiliating,” Ryan sighed and stared at his desk, a little shocked to realise that he and Geoff just had a reasonable conversation. “What sort of stuff do you read? I’m into like mystery books but I’ve nearly finished Lord of The Rings.” It was now Ryan’s turn to drop his jaw, eyes wide a Geoff who just stared back in confusion. “What? Kid like me can’t read?” he questioned and Ryan just shook his head. “No, I was just…not expecting it,” he mumbled and Geoff nodded. “Yeah, I don’t usually tell people,” Geoff trailed off and glanced down at his hands to see his fingers tracing shapes on the desk. There wasn’t much noise in the room, just the monotonous ticking of the clock along with Miss Dunkelman’s pen scratching across paper. Ryan opened his mouth to speak but the opening of the door caught their attention more, Mr Burns stepping into the classroom with a short looking kid behind his figure. “Sorry to disturb, Barb, but Jeremy here said that Ryan was walking him home as his mom isn’t available to pick him up. Again.” The final word caused Jeremy flush with embarrassment as Ryan’s face flooded with confusion. He looked to Jeremy, searching for an answer or explanation but he just kept gesturing to go along with it. And so, he did. “Uh, yeah, my mom knows his,” he lied, Jeremy surprised at how convincing he was. “Well, I hope it doesn’t matter too much if I leave Jeremy in here until these boys have served their time,” Mr Burn spoke and Miss Dunkelman just gave him a nod. Jeremy took a seat next to Ryan giving him a sheepish smile. “What was all that about?” he whispered, Jeremy just shrugging his shoulders. “I had to make something up. Otherwise Mr Burns would’ve called my mom again and she can’t exactly take calls right now,” he mumbled and Ryan, yet again, arched his brow. He was about to ask Jeremy to explain when he sensed Geoff leering over his shoulder and decided against it. “Fantasy,” Ryan said simply, this time causing both Jeremy and Geoff to be confused. “Excuse me?” Geoff asked and Ryan turned to face him again. “You asked what kind of books I like. Fantasy, mostly but I do enjoy Sci-Fi too.” It brought a smile to Geoff’s face and it wasn’t long before all three were babbling about books and movies and the lack of movies in Jeremy’s life, Geoff getting obviously agitated at the fact he’d never seen Star Wars but knew Face Off perfectly. “First Ryan never playing videogames and now you’re telling me you’ve never even watched Jurassic Park?!” he exclaimed and Jeremy thought for a moment. “If that’s the one about dinosaurs, then I’ve seen it. Not all the way through but the T-Rex was awesome.” By the end of the hour, Geoff was practically hitting his head on the desk whilst Jeremy kept trying to explain the plot of Face Off to Ryan, who had no intentions of listening. Miss Dunkelman looked up from her work and smiled to see them all getting along. “Well, boys, you’re free to go,” she announced and Geoff leapt up with his bag, running for the door. Ryan grabbed his own bag and glanced at Jeremy who hung by his side, raising a brow. “You can go now, you know that?” he said and the smaller of the two bit his lip as they exited the classroom. “I know, I was just wondering if you’d actually walk me home?” his eyes were like those of a puppy dog, staring up at Ryan in earnest. He looked to his watch. It was only 4pm. His parents wouldn’t be home till 6pm. “Sure, why not. I’ve got nothing to do,” Ryan said with a shrug and a smile lit upon Jeremy’s face. And so, the two left the school premises and Jeremy lead Ryan towards his home. As they walked, they easily sparked another conversation and settled into each other’s company. Ryan was sure Jeremy only knew his name from that one soccer ball incident but it didn’t bother him too much, pushing any questionable thoughts into the back of his mind. After all, Jeremy was being a little strange about the whole situation. Maybe it was just something he did back in his home state, as Ryan could tell the accent was strong and not Texan. “And he’s called Rimmy Tim. He’s the best sniper in the crew,” Jeremy said, his arms waving widely as he finished explaining the imaginary gang him and his friends had created. “So, you guys just play this imaginary game?” Ryan questioned, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked up a path towards a house. “Yeah, Trevor comes up with these crazy heists and we play it out. It’s cool. You should join sometime. I can see you as being as totally psychopathic killer,” he spoke with a chuckle as his keys unlocked the front door and they stepped inside. Ryan’s eyes scanned the hallway before he was dragged into the living room, Jeremy dropping his bag on the floor and Ryan following suit. Jeremy switched on the light and it flickered for a moment before illuminating the room, showing the old leather couch, stained coffee table and ancient tv. “No wonder you don’t watch movies,” Ryan mumbled as he joined Jeremy on the couch. “Okay, Ryan, so you could help me with homework or we plan out your crew member,” Jeremy suggested and Ryan smiled. “Homework is boring. Let’s get me in this gang,” his grin was wide as Jeremy pulled paper and pens from his bag, the two immediately starting to sketch and write. Ryan was just excited to finally have an escape from his parents. He’d been told many times to just “grow up” and that imaginary games were for children. But fuck them. He was still a child and he’d play as many imaginary games as he damn well pleased. “So, Ryan, what would your name be?” the question startled Ryan, having not even thought about it. “Name?” “Yeah, it’s like a new identity,” Jeremy explained. “Probably something menacing,” he noted and that’s when it hit him. “The Vagabond. It means a person who wanders from place to place. And there’s no way I’m settling down. Adventure is in my blood,” he said enthusiastically and Jeremy nodded. “Vagabond it is.” The two continued to play their pretend game, sketching out their characters and their various outfits and equipment, Jeremy having a surprising knowledge of firearms. “So, uh, Jeremy, how do you know so much about guns?” Ryan asked a little warily, and Jeremy glanced up from the paper. “Huh? Oh, my mom’s ex had a big collection and he kept it here when he dated her. He’d teach me all about them but I couldn’t ever actually touch one,” he explained as if it was nothing and Ryan just slowly nodded “Right…so where is your mom, again?” The words brought Jeremy’s hand to still and Ryan saw how his eyes stared in concentration at the paper. “I…I, uh, don’t know.”