#the color of want is harshly monotonous | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orshii · 11 months ago

Text

bitter and sweet

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: Use of word "fuck", smoking, alcohol consumption

Word count: 2k

Summary: When you finally quit your job, you need a distraction. Hongjoong happens to be that.

A/N: Am- hi? This is totally new to me, and I would've never uploaded this story, if it weren't for my bestie @bvidzsoo (ly). She kept saying, how good this story was, so Ig I'm here? I really hope you will enjoy it, as much as I did when I wrote this little drabble. Recently I am very whipped for Hongjoong, so yeah...I just had to write this. Anyways, have fun. xoxo orshii

After a whole month of living like a robot: starting work early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even up yet, until when it hid behind again the buildings of our little town; I slowly started to feel like I was losing my mind. The feeling was similar to when your days are just as monotone as the clock on your wall, never changing its course the opposite way. You become one with your regular human life, which is always clouded, always grey just like the clouds above you; there are no colors.

It started becoming overwhelming, I started getting tired of this feeling of emptiness; I felt the void spread through my body every single fucking day. That's when I decided to quit my job, which wasn't even my dream job. I have been working at a fucking bakery as a cashier, of course it wasn't my dream job, whose would it be…

It was a Friday when I quit, so, as I was an unemployed nobody, the best idea was to celebrate that, wasn’t it? My friends were excited to hear my sudden proposal of going to a party, which was held by the town’s biggest brat, Jung Wooyoung; but I didn't care, I needed to get laid as soon as possible. I just wanted an escape from this shit reality, and not to think about what was going to happen in the future now that I was without a job.

We decided to dress up pretty and sexy for the night with the girls. I was wearing black ripped jeans with fishnets underneath, and a black crop top with some cuts on it here and there, accompanied with my black boots and some accessories.

As we arrived in front of the house of said brat, Wooyoung, we went inside deep into the crowd of swaying bodies, which were flowing with the music. The music was so loud that we couldn't even hear our own voice, the beat punching our chests harshly. The first thing we had to do was to drink, of course, so we headed to the kitchen. We could barely see the furniture inside the kitchen due to the smog filling the air, coming from the people smoking this and that. Finally, somehow we found our love, the meaning of our night: alcohol. We started to take some tequilas shots, and anything else we found, honestly. We just wanted to get drunk. Me, at least.

Eventually, I somehow found myself around the swaying bodies in the living room, but my friends were nowhere to be found.

I started to dance following the flow of the music; I felt like I could finally breathe, my latest months were hard and I just needed to forget all of the shit that’s happened.

At some point, I felt like somebody was watching me, I don't know how, I’d call it perhaps intuition.

When my eyes finally found the owner of two staring lustful eyes, my breath hitched. I have never seen this man in my entire life before, but as I watched him, my heart just started to race like it never has. My heart didn't even race like this when a fucking bear started to chase me, and that’s no fun.

I felt dizzy, maybe because of the influence of the alcohol or I didn’t know, but the sudden emotions started hitting me like I was a fucking punch bag.

The man was sitting on the couch, he was a bit far, but I could see his devilish smile from where I stood. It’s not supposed to be a joke; but with the red lights of the party, he looked like the fucking devil himself. His raven-black hair fell on his forehead, reaching his eyes, making his glare even more intense as he held a can of beer, leaning over his knees.

I haven't moved since my eyes landed on him but somebody, suddenly, bumped into me, and if I remember the guy's name correctly, it’s San. But I was glad, because I somehow found myself back to reality again, as if the last few minutes were in slow-motion.

I tried not to look at the stranger again, since my friends finally found me and we started to dance together, laughing and goofing around. I would be lying if I said my eyes never searched for the stranger again as he had moved from the couch. I felt a bit disappointed that I might never see him again.

And there was a chance that I actually might see him, and after a while, I suddenly felt two warm hands around my waist. I don't know how, don't ask, but I just knew it was the stunning stranger guy from the couch, with whom I had a staring contest like half an hour ago.

We just weirdly danced to the music, feeling the rhythm as it led our bodies in synchrony. It was weird because he was a total stranger but, somehow, I felt safe in his warm arms. I slowly turned around to finally look at the owner of the warm hands, and I was fucking right. I felt like I was going to melt right then and there like ice cubes on a hot summer day.

Why? Because he was the hottest guy I have ever seen in my life, and I'm not joking, I would never joke about things like that. He looked ethereal, and I don't know what led him to me, but I thank God for it, because it was worth every moment. I looked into his eyes as he was glaring at me sharply. I couldn't read his expression, but I saw a small smirk slip onto his slim lips, so, I reached my arms around his neck. Yes, I felt comfortable like this, after all, he was still holding my waist.

“Hi.” I spoke suddenly. Don't even ask me why I had the courage to even say something to him. That night, my soul has left my body surely.

“Hey.” He said with a low tone, leaning close to my ear so I could hear him. I felt shivers running through my body.

“Wanna smoke?” I asked him with questioning eyes.

He smiled, “Yeah, of course.”

And then, he grabbed my hands and pulled me towards the backyard.

I looked back at my friends, but they were just laughing and shouted, “Go get him!”

It made me laugh as I followed the stranger.

As we finally arrived outside, I felt relieved. The weather was nice, I finally could hear my own voice and I got to inhale some fresh air.

We stopped at the terrace of the house, and I leaned my back against one of the pillars as the stranger across from me did the same thing.

We were quiet for a bit as I enjoyed the fresh air, and I felt him watching me. It wasn't an awkward quiet, it was a comfortable one. I stared back at him, taking in the sight of him as his outfit screamed elegance, but at the same time it was casual; he was wearing all black.

“Aren't you going to smoke?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Nah, I don't smoke.” I said with a serious face.

The stranger looked at me, his eyebrows scrunching together in confusion.

“Then why did you want to come out to—smoke?”

I just shrugged, “I just needed some fresh air, but to not disappoint you—” I started to search for something in my pocket, “I have this.”

I showed him the colorful elf bar, raising it up to his face.

He started to laugh loudly; it was low toned and the sound tingled through my whole body. I loved his laugh.

“Okay.” He nodded, “Then I’m going to smoke a real cigarette.”

He spoke while still smiling as he reached for his cigarettes in his pocket. Damn, he was actually smoking smoking; that’s a red flag, but I like it.

He slowly pulled out a cigarette from the package, and took it in between his parted thin lips, his gaze never leaving mine, only when he lit it up.

I decided to smoke the elf bar which was in my hands. It tasted like a tangle of freshly picked raspberries and blueberries from the wild fields, accompanied with the taste of dark red cherries. I loved the sweet taste as it slowly went down into my lungs, spreading the sweetness everywhere, and then, I exhaled it slowly out into the clear air.

The guy in front of me was staring at my lips as the sweet fog came out from my parted lips.

“Is it good?” He asked, gazing at me.

“It is. It’s sweet, unlike yours.” I said pointing at the cigarette in his hands.

He looked down at it.

“It's not that bad—wanna taste it?” He asked me frowning with a smirk on his lips.

And the look he was giving me sent me to Hell, just for me to return as Lucifer. That's why I was suddenly so bold, out of my mind.

“Do you want to taste this?” I pointed at my elf bar, avoiding his question on purpose.

“Yeah, why not?” He said, stepping closer to me.

I stared at him as an idea came to my mind.

“Wanna double shotgun?” I asked pointing at my elf bar and his cigarette, watching him with inviting eyes.

Just the idea of it was already so exciting, now imagine actually doing it…with a stranger, whom, despite having just met, it felt like I have known him my whole life.

“Hell, yes.” He said in a low tone, it was almost like a thunder. He stepped closer to me, our bodies almost touching, but it seemed like he didn't want to overstep some unsaid boundaries.

And so, I slowly inhaled from the elf bar, inhaling it deep down into my lungs as he did the same with his cigarette, burning the end of it with his inhale.

As we both were ready, we leaned into each other’s bodies, our lips almost touching. We exhaled the smoke at the same time as it tumbled through our parted lips, just to meet with the other's soft lips, inhaling the other's taste. I breathed him in, held it in my lungs, wanting to keep it there forever.

“It's so bitter.” I whispered still leaning close, slowly exhaling the smoke of his cigarette.

“It's so sweet.” He whispered back to me, leaning even closer in, gazing at me with dark eyes, which were telling me so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Wanna taste it on your sweet lips.” He said, reaching out his thumb to brush it against my lower lip.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I whispered against his bitter lips, closing my eyes slowly.

He slowly grabbed my chin and tilted it upwards, and then leaned in to brush his lips against mine. I could taste the bitterness of his cigarette on his lips, blending with the sweet taste of my own lips, which the elf bar has left behind.

Sweet and bitter collided, it was like our own two worlds colliding: he tasted bitter, but somehow, he brought some sweetness into my grey world, painting it slowly full with colors as he brushed his lips against mine.

“You haven’t told me your name.” I said after our lips separated from each other, desiring for more. I wanted to taste him forever.

“Hongjoong.” He whispered, our lips almost touching, “And what's your name, pretty?”

“Y/N” I said, and he smiled at me sweetly as our lips collided again, never wanting to separate.

He filled me up with passion. He made me want to finally step out of my monotone life. I felt like I was alive again. He made my grey life colorful again.

Later on, we were passed out in the back of his car…how’d we let it get this far, I don’t know.

116 notes · View notes

honeystwiggypeach · 2 years ago

Text

Out of place!

Wednesday x Fem!Reader

Hello besties!! Sorry for my absence but I’m back…for now at least😭😭anyways what do we think about Wednesday meeting your kitten that you have been hiding in your dorm room for the past week(also…I did probably accidentally write self insert by basically putting my kitten Lazslo in my fic but…anyways😭)

When Wednesday walks into your dorm, she sees you sat at your bay window the fluffiest little blob of black fur is piled in your lap contrasting harshly against the soft colors of your outfit and throw blanket.

She’s quiet, you don’t bother looking up when you hear the door shut, it’s Wednesday you know that, you heard the subtly tapping of her shoes against the hardwood floors the creaks of the old floorboards that were always the same as she followed her rhythmic pattern to your room.

She sets her books and bag down on your desk brows slightly furrowed as she looks over to you spotting a pair of twinkling blue eyes staring back at her.

“Wednesday this is Lazslo” your smile is soft as you lift the cat up softly.

He lets out a tiny meow when Wednesday sits across from you on the bay window.

She looks out of place but in the comforting way. In the way that when you’re in a crowd of people you search for her because she feels like home. She looks out of place in the way that you’d buy things that remind you of her and decorate your room with the tiny peices in the way the decor looks just different enough to fit in, to be an ever present comfort.

When he crawls over purring loudly you both aren’t to sure what to do, but you especially aren’t sure what to do when he plops himself in her lap purring loudly as he needs his little paws into her oversized jacket.

“I’ve never liked cats” she whispers quietly as she brings her hand behind his ears scratching softly.

When you walk into your dorm a few weeks later to see Wednesday sitting on the ground with one of those dangling stick toys in her hand the smallest smirk on her face as she watches your kitten jump after the toy.

“I thought you didn’t like cats…”you joke.

“I used past tense.” Her voice is monotone but the same as you, your cat is an exception everything about you she adores so why wouldn’t she adore your beloved kitten?

Besties this was incredibly fun to write 😭let me know if you want to see anything(I’m thinking maybe opposite so for Wednesday?I can write a fic maybe about styling Wednesday’s hair maybe???)anywho!!!im gonna write more soon I promise just give me a little time but I plan to write a few more Wednesday fics this week!

Tags~ @nash-bears-library

#reader insert #x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday #Wednesday x fem!reader #fem!reader #x fem!reader

655 notes · View notes

dr-ground-zero · 1 year ago

Text

Shameless

(just a self indulgen sick V!Deku x reader that i definately typed up while horny so sorry it sucks) (CW heavy mess + contagion)

You knew Deku would do anything for you, though what you didn’t expect was for him to indulge your kink! You see the villain had managed to catch a cold, nothing too horrible but you did make him take it easy since you didn’t want him getting worse. Which meant he would be at home with you doing paperwork. He was sitting in his office chair looking through intel files, refiling everything, and going over plans when you came in with a cup of tea.

“Hey Izu, how’s the work going?” He groans softly and turns around in his chair to look up at you.

“Monotonous but I’m getting close to finishing” You hand him the mug of tea which he gladly takes and sips on it. He sighed in relief and sniffled wetly as the warm drink eased the pain in his throat.

“Thank you, babe.” “You should take a break” You recommended, he shrugged and rubbed at his nose which was already turning and irritated pink color around his nostrils.

“It wont be much longer till I finish, once I’m done I’ll lay down.” You huffed and watched as he scrubbed at his nose harshly. Watching how his nostrils flared widely and hearing how his breath caught in his throat. You hardly noticed him grab his handkerchief and you only saw a flash of red before he sneezed.

“HHRRRRESSSH! HRRRRSSSSHHH! hEH! HHHREEEESSHHHMMMPH!” You didn’t have time to hide your blush and saw Izuku smirking.

“Damn bmy handkerchief is soaked” He started while lightly dabbing at his nose which still made stuffy squelching noises. This only made you blush harder though, making yourself look away until he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you onto his lap. You squeaked in surprise as he pulled you close to him.

“Awh what’s got you blushing darling?” Izuku asked in a low voice, you could hear him sniffling. Its thick, and slush-like, as if his body was struggling to contain it. You could hear the soft squeaks and sounds of his nose trying to get some air through it. You tried to make a coherent sentence but all you could do was hide your face. He hoarsely chuckles and snorts loudly.

“Ugh, I already know was it is baby, dno use id hiding from bme.” You whine a little at his teasing but don’t move from your hiding spot. Then the gasping came, you could feel his hot breaths against your shoulder and neck. The way his arms tightened around your body with each passing second. You looked up just in time to see that desperate sneezy look on his face before he dove down head first into your shoulder.

“HEH! HEEERRRRRMMMPH! HRRRRRSHHH! HHHPPPMHHHH!” The warm splatter of snot and spray on you shoulder almost made you scream. When he started rubbing his nose against you, you were almost bright red in the face and held onto his shoulders.

“I-I..Izu, wh-what are you d-doing?” “I told you, my handkerchief was s-soaked. And this c-cold ih is s-so….so. Hehh!” You braced for impact when his voice trailed off and the hitching started up again. He let out an urgent whisper ‘g-godda sdeeze!’ before he was back to messily sneezing on you. Squeezing you in his arms as if you’d run away, but he knew you wouldn’t. You were too flustered for that, and he knew you were into this. He knew you liked when he got all sniffly, when he’d complain about his nose, or when he’d quickly grabbed his bright red handkerchief because he needed to sneeze. You liked it even more when he’d use you as his handkerchief, yank you towards him, and let him press his trembling nose against your skin. How you could feel how warm and wet it was.

“I know you’re edjoying this, darling, so don’t hold yourself back.” He encouraged you while kissing you gently on the lips. You could see the mischievous expression on his face, he wanted to rile you up. He wanted you to wreck him! You adjusted yourself in his lap and smirked back.

“Well if you insist~” You drag your finger down the bridge of his nose. Gliding them down to the tip of his nose and gingerly rubbing back and forth at his septum. You could feel the wetness collecting there, how it scrunched up and twitched as the light touched. His hitching started up again, even if it wasn’t loud you could feel it against your palm.

“I-It iiih itches s-so bm-bmuuuh bmuch!” He whimpers, and you hum happily as you focus and coax out that awful itch plaguing his sinuses. You tilt his face up so you can get a better look at the red-rimmed nostrils that were leaking with snot. You watched as the more you rubbed the wider they flared out before that snarling face came down and buried itself into your neck again.

“! HRRRRRSHHH! HHHPPPMHHHH! Heh hheeh! HEH! HRRRRRSHHH! HHHPPPMHHHH!” Even with them being muffled into your body the force and volume was still loud enough to make you melt. His sneezes always sounded rather ‘growly’ from how he snarled or gritted his teeth which would make more snot ooze from his nose.

Just as you managed to get out a small

“Y-you done, y-yet?” The villain pulled your chest to him to let out one last

“!HRRRRRSHHH!” When you thought your shirt couldn’t get any more ruined he pressed his nose against you.

“Guh s-so st-stuffy, y-your skid is s-so soft” He blew his nose into your cleavage, some saturating your shirt and the rest slipping down. You could feel all of it cooling against your skin. He ended off with rubbing his nose into your chest and sat up still leaving strings and cords of snot connecting you both. He smirks a the expression on your face since you really didn’t expect him to do all that to you.

“Sorry darling, i just could’t help bmyself. I feel bmuch better dnow~”

You were definitely redder than his handkerchief now.

#non kink blogs don't interact #groundzero grossness #gloomyfic

47 notes · View notes

aprosin · 8 months ago

Text

There's something about Wally. (Short Story)

this idea from waking up and just slowly brain rots in my head. a short story/a recreation of a video with the AU Yandere! Wally (Link below the story!) anyways, enjoy this story

(Y/N IS NON-BINARY SO THEY/THEM) TW// DE@TH AND BL0OD TOWARDS THE END!

The stormy night was poured down at [Y/N]'s place. They were snoring loudly, in their bedroom, mumbling out some words. "…apple pies…", they murmur loudly. The snore continues when a couple of noises can be heard. None of them didn't woke up [Y/N] until a *BANG* did. They luge up from their bed, trying to understand what happened downstairs. "Huh?! whA…? Who’s there?", they finally say. But, their bedroom door was mysteriously wide open. A light, glossy around downstairs, caught [Y/N]'s eyes attention. They began to walk downstairs, visibly irritated about who trying to prank [Y/N] in their house. "Barndy, I swear to Home. If you are pranking me, I’m gonna…", they say while looking surprised at the cause of the mysterious light. A candle, dimly lit on top of a dinner table. Plates settled almost a dinner date. "…gonna…", they were lost for words at this scene. Look confused before a voice uttered. "Gonna what?" [Y/N]'s face for a second turn into suspicion. Turn their head around to find the cause of the voice. "Who…?" They look at the corner of the room. A figure was standing there while speaking out. "Why it’s me, silly neighbor..." The voice spoke before walking into the light area. Having the tone shift into a satisfied one. "Your dream puppet!", revealing it was Wally. "WALLY???" They were stunned at him. "It can’t be!" Wally began to walk toward [Y/N] and continued to speak in a delighted tone. "Oh, but it is my precious neighbor. Before I was a dead apple seed but your love has transformed me into a stunning apple tree!" [Y/N] looks distressed and examines Wally's outfit. Having a couple of rips and holes. The once-colorful outfit shifts into a monotone of washout color. The face of a beloved person turns into an absurd deranged one. "Holy apples, Wally... What have you done to yourself?" [Y/N] say, have their tone into concern about their friend. "Done? Why I’ve done what you wanted. I’ve become what you want." Wally expressed while holding out his hand. "What you desire." [Y/N]'s face was frightened as they heard Wally's words. "What I desire? Like a make friends?" They spoke in a reasonable tone before it clicked. "Wait, you did this for me?" Wally began to laugh softly before shifting into multiple laughter. "You're so funny my darlin’. Of course, it’s for you! Everything is for you." Wally's face started to shift into a dreadful satisfying one. "You’re the air I breathe and now you can love me too. It hurt so much and took everything I had, but I’m better now." Wally began to hold out his arms for [Y/N], darting at their eyes, his voice began to rise up. "I’m perfect... Your perfect puppet!" [Y/N] quickly moves backward from Wally. Hold their hands to cover their mouth from feeling nauseous. "I feel sick. I never wanted this!" [Y/N] spoke out at Wally. "You look, you look crazy Wally!" Wally's smile made a bizarre grin, and exclamation out. "CRAZY?!" He began to laugh out in outlandish, abnormal at [Y/N]. They felt so uneasy, concerned about Wally.

"No no no!" Wally holds his head while grieving out "I’m better now!" Wally began to kneel down, his hands were on his sidearm, and tears were forming in his eyes.

"I’m a butterfly..." Wally's voice began to crack, sound he was about to cry. "I’m finally beautiful..." He began to breathe harshly, stating to [Y/N]. "You need to love me now!" [Y/N] trying to speak in calm down, walks toward him. "Wally, you need help. Let me…" "YOU NEED TO LOVE ME NOW!" Wally hollers and grasps [Y/N]'s wrist. You can hear a couple of bones break from the unexpected impact. "AH! Get Off me!" [Y/N] cried out. They tried to escape Wally's grasp, trying to reason with him. "Wally please…" "STOP FIGHTING ME! IT’S ALL FOR YOU [Y/N]" Wally's outrage burst out while tearing out fully. "I HAVE BEEN TWISTED AND HURT AND MY HEART WOULD HAVE BROKEN BY ME" He yelled out, putting pressure onto [Y/N]'s wrist. Create less of the bones shattered out and more [Y/N]'s wrist to bleed out. "BUT IT WAS ALL SO WE COULD BE TOGETHER!" [Y/N] finally screamed out "GET AWAY FROM ME!" Wally's face turns into sorrow when [Y/N] yells at him and lets go of [Y/N]'s wrist. [Y/N]'s face having tears come out from the pain. They use their other hand to put pressure on their wrist to keep seeping more on the floor. "You’re… you’re a fricken monster Wally!", [Y/N] spat out at Wally's direction. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Don’t say that! Please, my dear…" Wally expresses in a gentle tone before reaching his hand out for [Y/N] "I’m not your dear!" [Y/N] shriek at him. They began to stroll cautiously away from Wally. "I really liked you, Wally. I could have even loved you, but now, I don’t want anything to do with you." Wally's heart was almost to be heartbroken by [Y/N]'s extreme words.

"Get this through your twisted head," [Y/N] turns his head towards Wally, enrage on their face. "You and me are NEVER EVER going to be together." ------------------------------------------

Wally falls down onto his knees. As the world turns into black and white in front of him. The words "Never be together' echo around him. "Never be togeth…. But I… i’ve done everything…" He spoke in grief, despair tone. Witnessing [Y/N] walking away in a slow-mo, breathing rapidly. "I’ve tried…" As [Y/N] began to walk away from Wally's broken heart, into a doorway. He began to cry out to them, "NO DON’T LEAVE! YOU CAN’T GO!"

Wally's body started to tremble uncontrollably. His fingers turn into sharp, uncanny. Having his hands fade into a black color. "You need to…" Eventually, Wally's pupils turn into a heart shape, and smile out with a disheveled look. "STAY WITH YOUR DREAM PUPPET!!!" He roars out at [Y/N] He ran towards [Y/N], quickly jumped on top of them, and started to beat them in the chest. "STAY! STAY! STAY! STAY! STAY! STAY! STAY! STAY! STAYYYYYYYYY!!!" Wally repeated out at [Y/N]. Hearing them gasping out for air, as blood flew out of [Y/N]'s body. Blood splatter around both of them. Onto the wall, the floorboard, and Wally's bare hands. *BOOOommm...* as the nearby lighting hitted [Y/N]'s place. Their arm thudded into the floor as Wally panted out with sniffed out.

Wally spoke out in a trembling voice, "You’re always running away from my heart, so fast, so fast... and now you stay with ME!" He finally got off of [Y/N] dead body. Wally's vision was buried by the adrenaline rush, sniffled out. As Wally's body slowly turns back to normal. He glances down to see the mess he created. He gasped in dread, and his heart sank down. "[Y-Y/N]?" He began to shake [Y/N] body to see if there was a chance they were alive. "Please wake up..."

"Oh no no no no", Wally's tone was in fright by his own actions. He grabbed [Y/N]'s body to hug him, crying out for the dead neighbor. "What did I do?"

Wally begins to weep, cradling [Y/N]'s body in his arms. "I just wanted you to love me, my dear..." "I never meant to… to… kill you..."

This is what I imagine if Yandere Wally attacked or maybe killed someone

Credits AU Yandere Wally -> @qep0ermint Video/Script (Via captions) -> There's Something About Amy (Part 2): Mashed

youtube

thank you for reading !

ps: dont sue me for making your eyes cry

#short story #stories #writers on tumblr #writing #source: youtube #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #wally darling #wally au #yandere wally darling #reader insert #x reader #nonbinary reader

28 notes · View notes

cheezieypoofz · 3 months ago

Text

,,, IRRATIONALLY RATIONAL

TOXIC!KYLE BROFLOVZKI X F!READER

SFW One-zhot!

DIZCLAIMER: zo, i wrote thiz zo long ago for my first ever tumblr account, but then my friendz found that account and i got embarrazzed and deleted the two thingz i wrote for that account. ion think i have the second one on a google doc (it was a kyle and ztan (zeparate) x reader with a zweet tooth (I'll pozt it if i find it)). i just don't want thiz sitting on a google doc that i'm never gonna uze again. zo if you feel like you've read thiz before, i bet you have. p.z., i'm not revizing it zo when i come back i can zee how far i've come with my writing

WARNINGZ: menzionz of alcohol, fighting wordz, no real zolution, angzt with no comfort, the uze of the word 'cunt', implied abusive mom

Anonymous asked:

could you write a toxic Kyle x fem reader 🤔? I've never seen anyone do it I mean he's not all so innocent himself, he's a bit of an ass lmao

I also just came up with this on the spot 😓 !!

I sigh at the rain as it hits my delicate skin harshly. I ran through the streets of South Park trying to cover myself with my school bag, however, it wasn't doing me any good. I was still drenched. My clothes clung to my body as I rushed to my most beloved boyfriend's house, Kyle Broflovski. Of course, I just had been naïve enough to take my mom up on her offer, which was to take me to and pick me up from school, take me to work, pick me back up, and then drive us home. How stupid of me. To even conceive she'll be sober enough to even pick up the fucking phone.

Oh well. It's her loss anyway.

It only takes roughly five minutes of running to make it from Tweek Bros. Coffeehouse to Kyles’ house. His house was rather modest, it looks like any other ordinary house on the block, besides the color. I bolt up the three steps leading up to his front door, almost tripping over the second step with how fast I am moving. When I hop on the third step, I start rapidly banging on the door, my breath staggering out of my mouth.

I watch the door creak open before fully opening, the person on the other side being Kyle, his eyes trailing over my body. His face distorts into one of confusion, “[Name]? Why are you not home?” I lean on the doorframe, my heart pounding from the mad dash.

“Ough ough, I’ll tell you, can I come in first?” I hack through labored breaths, a loud crack coming out from the skyline. He nods and moves aside, making enough room for me to walk through the door. Kyle quietly shuts the door as I stumble into his house. I gave him a small peck on his cheek before he gripped my hand and dragged me through his living room. Ike, Kyle’s younger brother, was sitting on the couch watching McNeil Lehrer Report, which comes on every night at ten. I give him a small wave and he deftly puts his hand in the air dismissively and turns back to the monotone man on the TV.

We quickly make it up to his room, my goosebumps finally catching up with me. The familiar—yet not so welcomed—feeling forming all over. Kyle ushers me into his room, basically shoving me in there.

“Jeez,” I mutter, walking over to his closet and turning to him. I gingerly set my bag on the closet door, hoping nothing got wet on the inside. “Can I borrow some of your clothes?” I ask, going to take a hoodie or two even if he said no.

“Yeah, but why aren’t you home?” Kyle said, a look of disgust coming across his face.

I let out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah,” I cleared my throat, “Long story short. My mom wasn’t picking up the phone, so I just ran over here.” I slide open his closet doors, pick out a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, and throw them on his bed. “God, she’s such a cunt, and not in a good way,” I groan, turning back to face Kyle.

“Well, that’s your fault, isn’t it? Don’t blame your mom for your poor planning.”

“Oh,” I laugh, “I’ve accidentally left a bra here, right?” I ask, just trying to get away from his questions.

“Yeah, it’s in my desk drawer.”

I watch him stride over and pull it out of the top drawer before throwing it on the bed with his clothes. “But seriously,” I yawn, “I’m so fucking pissed she couldn’t even stay sober for one night.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’re just too sensitive, you’ll get over it.”

I tilt my head to the side, my lips slightly parting. I mean, he’s said that before but why does it hurt so fucking bad? “I’m too sensitive…?” I repeated back to him, not knowing what to do. My jaw opens slightly and my eyebrows scrunch together. The pain I feel in my heart went from a dull throb to an unbearable, gnarly stab, coming to me in multiple waves. His words hurt, and I have no idea why.

“Mhm, yeah, you just, I don’t know, overreact to all the small things. Not to mention how forgetful you are.” Kyle lists off. He shrugs as he flops down on his bed. “So, really, you’re just being hypocritical, criticizing your mom like that when you’re just like her.”

My lips turn to a scowl at his words, “I’m not an incompetent, waste of space, alcoholic, believe it or not.” I say, my tone just being perturbed and angry. He sits up and peers into my eyes, his face covered with an “okay, and?” look to it.

This only made me scoff, “I don't even know what to say to you.” I feel tears sting my eyes, the droplets threatening to fall. “You know what, I’m just going to change and then text someone to come take me home. I can’t deal with this right now.” I shake my head, the clothes clinging to my body being uncomfortably tight.

“What?” He laughed, standing back up from the bed. “What the hell did I do?” Kyle asked, throwing his hands in the air.

“If I try to tell you while you’re in whatever mood this is, I’m going to be irrational. So I’ll talk to you in the morning.” I walk over and snatch the clothes off his bed and then to my school bag lying on his closet door.

I hear him scoff, “Yeah, go ahead, run away from your responsibilities like you always do!”

“No Kyle,” I snap, wiping my body toward him, “You know what I’m doing? I’m being responsible and trying to salvage this relationship!” I feel the warm tears streak down my face, but they don’t deter me. “We don’t reason in the heat of the moment. I mean, I can tell you’re irritated right now, that’s why you said that dumb shit.” I cry out, loud, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear.

I let out an agitated sigh and place my hands on my hips, putting my weight on my right leg. I see his face contort into one of anguish and compunction, while mine, as far as I know, was filled with ire. I turn my back to him and snatch my bag, walking to the door before I pause at the voice behind me.

“I’m sorry…”

#south park #south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park x you #kyle broflovski #kyle x reader #kyle x y/n #sp fanfiction #kyle south park #sp fandom #sp kyle #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #x you #x female reader #female reader

9 notes · View notes

seishirokitten · 2 years ago

Text

Tattoo artist Raichi who is as diligent about his work as he is feral. Taking extra care to prep the skin for the ink. He gives instructions on care but never explains them as he scoffs out a

"Ya can read cantchya?"

Until one day a pretty girl like you walks into the shop. Wanting anything they could give you at all since, for you tattoos were a form of therapy. The pain felt nice and the smell of think only ever elevates the experience so after a nasty set back making you feel entirely out of control of your life a tattoo is exactly what you need. Your most recent failure confirms your belief that you didn't belong in your home town and it definitely confirmed that you didn't belong in the big city of Tokyo either.

Maybe moving here and staring anew was a big mistake.

Still your adventurous heart wasn't totally set on giving up just get despite your nihilistic brain forcing you to pack half of your apartment in preparation to move yet again. You figured you'd do what you always did before you'd flea a city or town.

You'd get a tattoo as a reminder to never go back.

It didn't matter what it was or where you got it. Sometimes you had the exact idea of what you wanted, a sunset set in monotone or the numbers to the address you stayed and hell sometimes it was just a random piece off of their cheap flash sale event. So walking to the closest shop was a no brainer to you, even if you didn't know they specialized in a variety of genres.

Browsing the portfolio books on the table as the receptionist slowly plucked the keyboard to enter you in. Nothing really stood out to you and neither did the names.

A straight, neat Iemon in strict letters. Followed by other names that come and go with each color of portfolio until you come across the leather bound book hiding at the bottom. The pen pressed so harshly into the front of the cover it left a deep groove as the writer must have gone over it once or twice to be visible against the light brown binding.

Mine.

In a rough yet legible font. With no indication of who "Mine" was.

"Oh you didn't pick an artist. The spot was left blank. Did you find someone you like?" The heavily pierced and tattooed woman asks in her song bird voice.

A smile spreads on your face, nails tapping the leather portfolio as you happily announce.

"Whoever Mine is." She gives a confused look before she spies the book, giving a giggle as she must type his real name before guiding you to the back.

Handing you off to a gruff looking blonde who scowls and groans when the receptionist gently taps at his shoulder.

"What is it Chigiri, can't ya see I'm busy damnit!" He quickly snaps out of his slouch and his spine cracks with the sudden movement. Throat and arms heavily covered in all sorts of swirling ink.

"Client wants you." Is all Chigiri says before returning to the front of the shop.

"So whaddya want?" He pushes himself away from his little desk to come to his work bench. Methodologically getting the small unopened ink pots and unwrapping the sterilized pieces for his tattoo gun.

"Whatever, I just want your natural handwriting." You chirp, settling into the chair as his thick hands quickly assemble his craft.

It truly didn't matter what he wrote, obviously no slurs of course but you didn't care if he spelled out fuck you across any of the available spots on your body, "Doesn't matter where either."

He gives a sneer and it shows off his sharp teeth, modded most likely. Filed until each one was brought to a razor sharp point.

It makes you smile, looking at his thick and dark lashing contrasting to his blonde. You liked that he knew exactly who he was, so confident in himself he didn't even feel the need to write out his name on anything.

His amber eyes rove over you slowly. You've had work done and quite a bit. Never loyal to one artist although that was a dying thing of a traditional and gatekeeping past. He liked patchwork tattoos, at least the aesthetic of them, they weren't necessarily his favorite pieces but some people could pull them off.

And damn if you couldn't pull them off.

Arms covered in all sorts of things, some work he recognized from other countries and some he didn't. He notices your exposed collar bones under the scoop of your tank top and suddenly he has to swallow thickly. His mind taking him down a stupid and unprofessional road as he thinks about sinking his teeth deep into your pretty skin until red washed over all the black ink beneath it.

Quickly, he realizes what he wants to set in permanent ink into your subdermal.

"Ya sure sweetheart?" He asks, picking your collar bone as he gently takes the one blade razor to shave any baby hairs, "I can do anything?"

"Anything." You affirm, as he swipes away the last of the alcohol to clean your skin before he pats the area dry, "As long as its in your real hand writing. I don't care."

His messy chaotic kanji reminded you so much of how life really was. Demanding order in a world made with endless and uncontrollable vatiables.

He skips the stencil, no need for it since he could easily free hand what he wanted to write. It was something he'd written thousands of times in his life, probably more times than his own name as he starts up the gun. Dipping the needles into the ink before he pulls your skin taunt and presses into you. The smell of ink hits your nose and you deeply inhale as if it were some kind of drug, the loud hum of his tattoo gun putting you in a trance.

You expect it to be more painful, rough, but his skill shows in how he doesn't press too deeply. Making sure his lines will last where some of the more novice artists on your skin lines have long since blown out and warped.

The more he works the more he smiles to himself. A feral grin as he squeezes it into the tight spot between other great works. Going over it once or twice to give it the true effect of his penmanship.

"Sat so still." He says as he wipes away a bit of the blood, hands safely encased in black gloves. Satisfied with his work he slams his vans into the foot pedal and his gun dies in his hands. Setting it down before he gets to cleaning the spot and adding the solution before he wipes at your skin again.

"Ready to see it?" Smile spread wide over his lips before he looks up at you, "Just remember you said anything, sweetheart."

You nod more than excited as he brings you a broken hand mirror, the glass jagged in the old black frame but you could still read what he wrote, clear as crystal, although a tad swollen from the irritation.

In kanji your collar bone now reads

Mine.

And for a moment it feels nice to belong.

@t-tomuras

#Raichi x reader #raichi jingo x reader #blue lock raichi jingo #bllk raichi 🖤🐈‍⬛ ⚽

200 notes · View notes

sillyromance · 1 year ago

Note

All i want is Blades calming down a distressed reader. The rest? Surprise me.

Good day/night, dear brownhood69!

So, I have finally managed to finish the story!

Hope, you'll enjoy!..

🛩️Blades

A giant space monster.

- Oh, Y/N! I'm so excited! We are finally going on a date! Can you imagine that? I have never thought I could be that happy...Well I have, but...

Dani was turning around in front of a mirror; her dress's skirt plainly floated in the air, slightly waving; white fabric with bright red spots on it suited her perfectly, tightly wrapping around her slim strong body, thin belt beneficiary marking her beautiful tiny waist. She truly seemed to be on cloud nine...

You, however, couldn't share this delight with her.

That day wasn't so pleasant in your case, although it would be hard to say what exactly went wrong. It just grew from something small - perhaps, the coffee was too bitter in the morning, or it was too hot outside, or the chief acted too impatiently with you - it wasn't unnatural since five robberies happened in Griffinrock that month; poor police officer was boiling like water in a teapot. So, who knows? Anyways, everything seemed to be out of normal way of going, and the longer you were watching how Dani was preparing herself for the meeting with her boyfriend, the harder it was for you to keep yourself from bursting into tears. You tried to be nice and respond with congratulations and recommendations, but soon you gave up on this and just sat there with red eyes, lowered shoulders and weak smirk which were brilliantly unnoticed by the young woman before you.

At last, she turned back to where you were, shining like a star; a rope of pearls perfectly emphasized her elegant white neck. She was too far in her thoughts, so you didn't even hope she would recognise your state; in order to that, you continued playing along: hugged her, said some reassuring words and then looked, standing in front of the window, as she disappeared in a taxi. Well, at least now you could be alone with your grief...

You fell on the matras, wiping salty streams from your burning cheeks.

However, crying didn't bring you any relief. Squinting at the blinding-white sphere of the chandelier and listening to the monotonous, heavy ticking of clocks hanging above your head, you decided that lying on a bed in an empty room and starring at the dull grey seiling weren't good options for you too. You harshly got up, left the room and started pointlessly wandering around the station, hands in pockets.

The halls were cold, dark and lifeless. Evening light colored the walls into deep purple, wine red and smoky-blue; they ghostly, grumpily glowed at you as if the house got abandoned decades ago. The kitchen looked unfamiliar, messy. Or was it just your upset imagination creating an illusion of sadness and sorrow consuming the place while it was spoiling only your soul?.. Some questions was impossible to answer - and unnecessary either.

You didn't remember how but you came into the transformer's living room. It appeared the bots were somewhere else as well as their human partners...

Well, not everyone.

Blades was watching TV, the head on his fist, faceplate being unusually strict, almost angry. When you took a closer look, it wasn't hard to see his spirit was just as low as yours.

- Hey, Blades...

He flinched - and widened his optics in surprise as you approached him.

- Y/N! I thought you left with the rest...

You climbed on the couch and took a spot right beside him, his huge leg touching yours. The mech hesitated for a sec, but then his servo fondly embraced you.

- I wasn't even going to... And how about you? Why have you stayed at home? I thought Dani would like you to make her company on the way to the meeting...

He exhaled, slowly tapping on an armrest.

- Well, I thought I would be an extra one, you know... It's her date after all. Sometimes, we should understand when it's required to refuse doing something, so others can feel better.

You nodded, nestling deeper into his enormous palm.

- Sure.

Silence came once more. The TV was showing some meaningless old comedy with a lot of singing and dancing; it wasn't even funny. Anyways, neither Blades nor you was really interested in that, although none offered to cut it off. Something simply had to fill the air to keep ears occupied.

- You don't seem glad about your decision, don't you?

You rose the head to look at him; the helicopter tried to avoid your gaze, staring at his feet.

- It's rather... Confusing. When I stay on my own like this time, I can't help but think that something feels missing. That's all. Me and Dani rarely go separately. I mean... There was never anything standing between us. But nowadays, she has another life. Perhaps, in the future, when she marries him, she won't even do rescuing any more... And I will be lost...

He sighed once more even deeper, slamming a servo over his knee in frustration. You gave him a reassuring pat.

- It's OK, buddy. Don't think this way. He's her lover - and his importance is undiscussable. But you're her best friend and a work partner - and your role in her life, mayhaps, even greater because, ironically, many people are much more honest with friends than with husbands or wives... Believe me, Blades, he will never replace you - you two are not the same.

The words you said had their effect on the mech; after some minutes the transformer's back straightened up, he smiled at you kindly, tightening his grasp in attempt to imitate a human hug.

- Thanks, Y/N. I should be reminded of that more often...

- You're welcome, Blades. I'm happy to assist.

You got out of his hand and laid on the back of the sofa, folding your arms across the chest. You thought the bot would leave you alone now. And still, he didn't go. Instead, he gingerly picked you up and brought close to his face - you could see his orange eyes peering at you with concern.

- However, it seems you can't help yourself, are you?

This hit hard. He nailed it.

- Maybe, should we help each other?.. What would you say on some "hanging out" with me for a couple of hours?

His soft voice washed over you, weakening the shield you built in front of your heart. The thing he offered was familiar; everyone in the team tried it if not many times but once. However, you was the least experienced of all - especially, due to the fact that you didn't have a personal partner.

When you came, all bots had already had human co-workers, so you was bound to work with everyone, accidentally switching between the duos. It took time for you to get along with everybody enough to be seen as a functional part of a team; and still, you stayed a loaner.

But, meanwhile you were learning more about your alien combats, you found out that you had a soft spot for Blades. He wasn't redundantly sarcastic and hot-tempered like Heatwave, or obsessed with law and rules like Chase, or concentrated on his own thoughts like Boulder. The helicopter seemed to become the most "human" like of his comrades, moreover that he was highly interested in all kinds of Earth pop-colture and seeked to know as much of his small friends as he could. Meanwhile others complained about his childishness and cowardice (which, however, never seemed to be a problem when he was up to complete a new rescue), you accepted them as things that made him - him. And overall, this bot had a spark of gold - the reason which made you love him even more.

You answered on his worried tone with a reassuring smile.

- I think... I don't mind. But... I know so little about this stuff...

He giggled soundlessly, rubbing your head with his thumb.

- Don't be afraid - there is nothing too complicated. All that's needed is for you to stay still and for me - to do what comes naturally... I'll be careful. I promise.

After that, he winked at you playfully and opened his mouth slightly, putting your tiny body in its dark, warm cavern.

Although you knew it was safe, you couldn't help but winced when your skin touched his tongue. You looked over your shoulder; silhouettes of his dents loomed dangerously in the deem, feeble light coming through the narrow gap between his jaws. You could clearly see a piece of the room outside, and it sent shivers around all of your being. It was... strange to be here. Willingly.

Then Blades started closing the maw - in the beginning you seriously feared he could harm you... Only you to be proved that he was really aware of what he was doing: you didn't even get a scratch, though his "teeth" clinged right behind your feet. You felt his glossa begining to move; it was gently turning you on the back, and on the sides, pressing you to his cheeks and to the ribbed roof above... Frankly, it was pretty nice; the muscle was tender, saliva draining your clothes and hair appeared to be not as icky as you expected... Of course, when thinking about where you were, you felt an unpleasant, vertigos sensation coming...

And at the same time, you couldn't deny you enjoyed every moment. There was something unrealistic and fascinating in your state - you didn't have powers to defend yourself now, a much stronger being was holding you in its mouth, licking and rolling you around as if you were just a little candy... And regardless, that creature was so caring, so kind; it loved you...

All this together made you even more will-less and obedient.

Finally, Blades titled his helm back. Your body, richly covered in slime, slowly slipped along his glossa and came to the opened entrance of the throat, your feet now wiggling in his pharynx. But the mech waited - he didn't want to accidentally scare you, moreover that he could easily recognise tension occupied your body again at the minute you got close to the point of no return. He wordlessly asked for the permission to continue.

It was very thoughtful of the bot; you got a chance to look around his mouth once more. Then, you turned back, gazing into the depth of a weakly glowing, squishy tunnel craving for you to duck right in.

You could stop now.

Gooey slime sparkled with light orange on your skin and tender, smooth grey surface of the alien flesh.

Dull pain inside your skull didn't let the brain think correctly.

Two more heavy seconds dropped and disappeared.

Whatever... What was done - it was done. You patted the glossa and forced yourself to relax, laying an aching head on your crossed hands.

And a gentle, but powerful tug dragged you down...

His throat readily caught you in a delicate, plushie hug, and then unobtrusively pushed further. The mech made long pauses between swallows, so you wouldn't get overwhelmed or hurt by the muscles contracting around. His spark pulsed steadily, loudly, but somehow soothingly beside you; his rhythmic ventilating brought peace and comfort. It was easy to focus on all these normal, beautiful sounds of a strong huge body living, breathing... Consuming.

A ridiculous, funny thought came to your mind: you were his meal now; and the deeper you was gliding - the more it seemed to be right. And you smiled, at the first time on that day.

Finally, you was released into a bigger room with yielding, bouncy walls. They eagerly embraced your tiny form with their wrinkles and waves, the fueltank growling quietly at your presence. It was like being in a huge bed of cushions and blankets piled up in a heap; but unlike cloth, everything you touched was a part to a living person. The flesh leaned to you, curiously examining your hands running over it; soft blue light flowed out of the walls from the thin tubes filled with energon which gurgled faintly, running to other organs; muscles massaged your body, exhausted by the recent stress. "Now I see why Dani likes when Blades devours her." - You smirked, submitting to the sensations you were drowning in.

- Hey, are you OK, Y/N?

The phrase came unawares. It could sound strange, but you didn't expect Blades to speak to you after everything took place. People don't usually talk with food they ate. However, it was a pleasant surprise - after all, you were a person too, and it was very nice of the bot to remember this fact.

On the other side - why shouldn't he?..

You shook your head. It appeared your bad mood was influencing your mind in a much worse way than you suspected.

- Sure, don't worry about me. - You responded, stroking the nearest plump bump pulsing on your side. - How are you?

The environment around you heated up a little. Was it... blushing?

- I'm fine, thank you. - He answered with a shy chuckle, starting to fondle his tightened middle - you could easily distinguish his digits rubbing you through the layers of flexible metal. - I hope the slime doesn't bother you too much. Dani said you don't like feeling dirty...

- It's nothing, Blades. I have already got used to it. - The warmth grew even stronger, successfully showing his embarrassed. This made your cheeks go red as well. - Actually, the whole process is very pleasant indeed. Thank you, friend, and I hope you liked that too.

The helicopter laughed quietly in response, making the fueltank quiver. He undoubtedly did.

- You know... - You pressed yourself against the spot where you could feel presence of his servo. - I couldn't get rid of my sadness all day but now it's slipping away... Although, there is still a needle poking into my soul, it's much, much better now...

Suddenly, as it usually happens with people when their mental state is unstable, you broke down. Your legs stumbled, making you crush on the soft floor; you knew that if you continued talking this way, you would obviously begin to sob and whimper.

- Could you tell me some of your tales, please? - You said with a shaky voice. - I don't want to concentrate on this any longer.

The fueltank churned gently, kneading and rubbing every inch of a tiny visitor. Blades pressed harder in attempt to reach you again - your anguished tone hurt his spark like a knife.

- Well, of course... What would you like to hear?

You nuzzled in the wet tenderness of his "stomach".

- Something that ends up with: "...And they were eaten by a giant space monster."

... You both had never laughed that hard in your entire life.

#extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore #transformers vore #transvoremers #willing pred #willing prey #comfort vore #tfrb vore #blades vore #hurt/comfort #requests

26 notes · View notes

ajgrey9647 · 1 year ago

Text

Prancing and Twirling into Madness

Skinny legs dangled from the hard chair, swinging in nervous anticipation as the child sat in the waiting room between his ‘parents.’ Both adults glared at the boy from the corners of their eyes, annoyed at having to take time out of their day to spend yet another afternoon in a doctor’s office. The place smelled of antiseptic cleaner, new plastic, and the odd scent of cherries, making the cowering Tommy think of the lollipops on wooden sticks the physician gave him at the end of a visit.

The windows gave a wide view of a dark grey, cloudy sky, ripe with rain and approaching lightning. A scattered swatch of icy drops spotted the glass in a swift burst of turbulent wind. A clock ticked away monotonously in the background.

“I can’t believe we’re back in here, Thomas,” his mother hissed under her breath, eyes on the front desk receptionist. “Why? Why can’t you act ‘normal’?”

His father’s eyebrows were knitted together like one large fuzzy caterpillar, his face a florid red with barely contained anger.

“Jesus Christ, how old are you again? That was the third kid you’ve bitten this year!” he whispered, the tone an icy calm, his hands gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles were white.

‘He’s going to beat the shit out of me when we get home,’ Tommy worried, trying not to shake, fighting the frightened tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

Tears would only make things much worse. The man hadn’t yet succumbed to the joys of drink as he would in later years when Tommy reached his younger teens. During this early period, Mr. Oliver was quite strict and controlling, demanding the little boy be a model of perfection despite his chaotic background.

Impatient and given to fits of rage when he became irritated, he had no qualms taking a belt to his adopted son’s bare skin when he felt he needed ‘correction,’ as he called it. And, in his opinion, Tommy required much in the way of correcting. He often opined that opening his home to the unwanted child was a huge mistake.

Mrs. Oliver was not a source of comfort nor a protection from her husband’s anger. The woman couldn’t understand maternal instincts, having her greatest love being herself. She had a fondness for attracting the attention of other men, causing Tommy’s father to erupt in jealous fits of screaming and yelling. Normal tasks such as cleaning, cooking, or otherwise being present bored her greatly.

Leaning over towards the intimidated child, he muttered under his breath.

“You better keep your mouth shut when we get back there about how I run my household. Do you understand?”

His breath was hot on Tommy’s pale cheek.

“If you embarrass me, I’ll really make it hurt when we get behind closed doors. No one’s going to believe a bratty, selfish little shit like you anyways.”

Mrs. Oliver rolled her heavily made up eyes and rummaged in her purse for her compact mirror. Her moist, red lips sneered in the child’s direction.

“Its no wonder why your mommy didn’t want you. You’re obviously broken,” she smirked. “Other children don’t act like you do.”

Tommy’s eyes and nose began to burn with the effort of shoving down such mental anguish. Bright pink splotches colored his face and he pulled his knees to his chest, curling into himself.

A strong hand cuffed his shoulder roughly.

“Sit up straight!” his father harshly admonished, glancing over at the receptionist bent over the deck, a phone tucked in the crook of her neck.

Dutifully, Tommy lowered his scrawny legs back down, shoulders straightening from their hunch with effort.

“The school counselor said they can’t let you back in the building until you have this evaluation. You had better get that head out of your ass and pass with flying colors. We’re getting really tired of your shit, Thomas,” Mr. Oliver continued, his knuckles cracking subtly as they squeezed the chair.

The latest phone call from the school had very nearly caused the child to have to remain in bed for several days. Biting wasn’t the only offense Tommy had committed while in the classroom. There was a whole laundry list leading to the counselor’s stern instruction for a physical and mental evaluation to determine a cause for the boy’s behavior.

Teachers commented on his withdrawn and negative demeanor, his lack of focus on schoolwork, his failing grades, and his inability to get along with other children. They had been forced to send him to the principal’s office on several occasions for his crass language and uncooperative behavior. Nothing seemed to be able to get through to him.

And now, here Tommy sat in a doctor’s office with his parents, the first of many he would have over the years until he grew into Rita’s evil Green Ranger.

Heaving a sigh, Mr. Oliver adjusted himself in his chair and looked over at the door to the patient rooms with annoyance.

“I don’t see why this is taking so long,” he commented loudly.

Sliding over the edge of the chair, Tommy’s shoes thumped on the thin, plain carpeting of the waiting room and he wandered over to the small bookcase in the corner. Settling down on his knees on the garishly colored rug, he perused the cracked spines of the slim children’s books lining the shelves. The boy could literally feel the weight of the adults’ eyes on him, their anger and annoyance palpable.

He licked his lips nervously, tongue dry and grabbed a tattered hardback tome at random. It was a rather thick volume, not necessarily a child’s book but according to the faded gilt letting on the cover, it was a collection of fairy tales and folk lore from around the world.

Tommy scrunched his face in derision.

‘Fairy tales?’

What garbage! Mere entertainment for soft minded, naïve youngsters.

Cracking open the book for lack of anything better to do while he awaited his turn on the paper-covered table, Tommy skimmed the first few pages lethargically. But as he flipped through the various ethereal stories, the child became captivated, not just by the stories but the otherworldly illustrations on the adjoining pages.

Grand adventures, princes and princesses, winsome animal companions, witches, and magic; images flooded his mind and the little boy could vividly ‘see’ the lovely scenes coming to life in his mind. He didn’t realize he was no longer blinking until the dull burn in his eyes caught his attention.

That was the only thing though that Tommy came to realize. The nurse was standing by his parents at the door to the patient rooms, his chart cradled in one arm. She smiled at him gently and waved him up with one hand.

“Ready to see the doctor, kiddo? You can bring that book back with you if you like,” she offered kindly.

The child nodded and scrambled to his feet, mindful of his parents’ irritation as they stood waiting. Hugging the worn book to his chest, he made his way over and down the hall to await his exam.

The pediatric patient room was decorated in bright cartoonish colors, framed pictures of animals on the walls over the examination table along with the requisite blood pressure cuff and boxes of gloves. A counter stood along one wall with a sink and canisters containing cotton swabs and tongue depressors. The sterile smell was thicker back here, and Tommy shivered, his flesh raising in goose pimples.

His parents sat in yet other plastic chairs while they waited for Dr. Samuels, the pediatrician that they had been referred to by the school counselor. Mr. Oliver gave the child a hard stare.

“Remember what I said out there? Keep a lid on it. Understand?” he ground out. “Or so help me God…”

Tommy nodded his head vigorously. He didn’t need to be told twice. The book was a comforting weight in his arms, keeping him grounded.

Mrs. Oliver crossed and uncrossed her legs impatiently and glared at her adopted son.

“You can at least pretend you’re a normal kid, right? I’m really tired of hearing how disappointed your dad is with you,” she added, spitefully.

Mr. Oliver made no rebuttal to the statement; Tommy would have been shocked if he had, to be honest.

Then there was a sharp rap on the hollow door and the click of the knob. Dr. Samuels was a short, balding man in glasses, wearing a white coat and brown loafers. He gave the slim boy a perfunctory once over and then introduced himself to the patient’s parents.

“So, what brings us in today, Tommy? I understand there are issues at school,” he questioned, pulling out a small black and silver gadget that he used to look in the child’s eyes and mouth.

Tommy fidgeted slightly and bowed his head.

“I got in trouble at school,” he managed in a cracked voice.

“I see. It looks like you’ve been in a lot of trouble lately.”

The doctor’s cold hands were palpating the child’s throat, back, and belly; the touch of hands on his unsuspecting skin made Tommy flinch sharply. However, the reaction was not due to the temperature difference.

“Can you tell me about the things you’ve gotten in trouble for?” the doctor went on, mistaking the child’s reaction as being due to his chilly fingers.

Mr. Oliver was glaring over the doctor’s shoulder, his eyes dark and dangerous.

Tommy tried his best to answer the physician’s questions, carefully maneuvering around any discussion of how things were at home. He relayed his anger and frustration with children at school, with the teachers, the counselor, and principal, his boredom in the classroom, difficulty with reading and spelling, and preference to be left to himself.

“I see,” Dr. Samuels continued to repeat with each answer.

He made long notations in the papers contained by the purple chart. Then he turned toward the Olivers and began to make his recommendations.

Driving back home through the now pouring rain, Tommy stared out the window at the hazy lights of passing cars, blurry distorted shapes when viewed with the water spattered glass. The adults were deathly silent, still angry with him. Experience told him that his punishment was not over just yet.

The doctor had a given his parents a prescription for medication and a referral to a pediatric behavior specialist for further work up. Dr. Samuels had expressed some concern regarding Tommy’s withdrawn personality and his aggressive responses when angered or frustrated. With the limited information on his birth mother, it was unclear if there were any history of psychiatric disorders.

But the child could be on a dangerous path if he were not treated effectively with appropriate medical and behavioral therapies. Tommy’s stomach felt knotted and painful hearing the doctor’s assessment.

Dangerous?

The child continued to stare out at the grey, wet world that seemed to match his current mood. Puddles splashed under the tires as the vehicle moved down the road toward the small yellow house. His stomach growled, but it was best that he not eat before he received the rest of his punishment.

Vomiting would make it harder on him. His father despised weakness and he would order the child to clean his mess alone.

“Goddammit, Thomas!” Mr. Oliver suddenly snapped, making his wife jump. She narrowed her eyes at him in irritation.

“Is this going to be an ongoing problem? Are we going to have to put you on crazy pills and go talk to a quack? Talking doesn’t fix shit!” he ranted. “Back in my day, if I got out of line, my old man would tan my ass. He didn’t put up with any bullshit.”

The car was silent for several minutes as the older man ruminated on his own upbringing.

“If you want to acct like a rebel without a clue, we can take a page out of my pa’s book. Obviously, I’m not beating your ass enough,” he snarled into the stillness. “Children knew how to act when I was growing up.”

Tommy’s hands clenched together nervously as his father began to get keyed up. Trips down memory lane were not good for the child cowering in the backseat.

“Kids in my generation weren’t a bunch of disrespectful little pussies,” he advised. “You didn’t go running your mouth to shrinks or doctors. Corporal punishment cured most issues. I’m thinking maybe you’re too soft, too wimpy. Like a little princess.”

Mrs. Oliver laughed, a tinkly jagged sound as she looked back at Tommy.

“Well, he’s got prettier hair than I do,” she chirped, hooking a thumb over at the little boy’s longish dark locks.

His father’s dark eyes locked on his in the rearview mirror; the man scowled at his wife’s observation.

The rest of the ride was passed in silence.

Striding briskly through the front door, Mr. Oliver made no mention of what he intended to do; the older man disappeared into the interior of the home as his wife plopped down her purse with an annoyed sigh.

Briskly, Tommy darted up the stairs to his room, scrambling to find a place big enough to hide in. His little heart thundered in his chest while his eyes frantically looked around the mostly barren space.

He knew shit was not over.

Hearing a creak on the stairs, Tommy barreled underneath his bed, a foolish endeavor he realized. But what else could he do? He curled into the tightest ball he could manage in the farthest corner he could reach and waited breathlessly. The heavy footfalls were coming closer.

“Thomas Oliver! Get your little ass out here. Right now!” the loud voice echoed from the hallway.

The child remained quiet, hoping futilely that something or someone would step in and prevent the beating he knew was coming.

The bedroom door thundered open, striking the wall behind it.

“If I have to bend down and drag you out, you little shit, you won’t get out of that bed for a goddamn month!” he warned venomously.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and wiping his weeping eyes, Tommy pulled himself out and presented himself for punishment.

The wrathful man grabbed the child by the hair and yanked, making him yelp in pain. Dragging the sobbing boy down the stairs to the bathroom, he said not a word until the door was slammed loudly and he had shoved Tommy over to the sink.

“That dumb bitch isn’t right about a lot of things, but I think she hit the nail on the head with this,” he growled. “Look in the mirror, boy! What do you see?”

Tommy gave a limp shrug, sniffing back the snot that running from his nose. He could barely see anything through his watery eyes.

“I’ll tell you what I see. I see a dainty little princess, a Pitiful Pearl who’s took weak to suck it up and do what needs doing. You’re fucking biting people like a goddamn dog! But you don’t obey for shit!” he roared. “That fucking stops right here and now. I’m going to teach you how to toughen up, like a fucking MAN!”

Again, he grabbed the child’s hair roughly; the vibrating buzz of the electric razor echoed off the bathroom tile.

“No! Don’t!” Tommy screamed.

But nothing dissuaded the man; long dark hair rained upon the floor, some gliding to alight on the boy’s sneakers. Again and again, the razor passed over sections of his scalp, at times nicking his skin and drawing streams of blood.

By the time the cruel act was completely finished, Tommy’s scalp was almost completely red, slick with bleeding cuts and the rough beginnings of razor burn.

“Much better,” his father stated, nodding his head at his handiwork. “Look at yourself now, Thomas. That��s a more manly hairstyle!”

Tossing the black razor upon the counter, he looked coldly at the little boy.

“Clean this mess up, then go to your room. You’re lucky you aren’t getting the belt again.”

Then he was gone.

Tommy’s hazel eyes stared at himself in the mirror, fixated on his shorn hair. Heaving sobs wracked his thin shoulders making it hard to breathe. Sinking to the floor, he gathered up the remains of his soft hair in his hands, feeling the silky strands slide through his fingers into the trash bin.

So in shock at the loss was he, that when he stood up again and caught sight of his reflection, he began to bawl anew. With shaky steps, Tommy made his way back to his bedroom, the sound of the television loud from down the stairs, drowning out his sorrow.

Tucked away behind a broken dresser drawer, the child had secreted away a means of comfort in this hellhole. The small stuffed dog had accompanied him through many homes until they both landed here. Pulling the little animal from his hiding place, Tommy ran a fingertip over the glossy black button eyes and nose. He buried his hot scalded face into the warm furry chest and begged for someone strong and brave to come save him.

Over his later school years, Tommy had not only continued to bite other children, he’d stabbed a boy with a sharpened pencil, shoved several teachers, cursed out the principal and counselor, scratched and clawed a boy who’d been tormenting him, and kicked yet another child between the legs hard enough that surgery was required. The youngster bounced skulls off metal lockers, threw desks, and kicked a hole in a wall.

He had been caught smoking on school grounds more than once; a few instances involved possessing marijuana. Additionally, Tommy had defaced school property, vandalizing bathroom stalls with rude and often untrue allegations against his peers and other staff. Several library books were missing pages or otherwise damaged.

At the young age of sixteen years old, Tommy Oliver had a thick medical chart, spanning the years since his official adoption that also included incidents from past foster homes. He even had a juvenile record for running away, fighting, stealing, vandalism, underage drinking, and making threats.

The list of diagnoses was extensive given his age and the list of failed medications was puzzling. Of course, if he actually took them instead of pocketing them in his cheek, they may have had some effect. But he was also a masterful liar, leading countless doctors and therapists down a merry rabbit hole.

Nothing mattered. Life was short, then you die. Tommy was determined to do things his way. He was punished no matter what with the old man clouded with drink and impulsivity. The only positive was being shoved into martial arts as a way to vent his aggression at the recommendation of a therapist.

This was the way he arrived in Angel Grove and the way he operated when he first met Jason Scott, the muscular dark-haired martial artist that, for reasons he could not explain, captivated his attention. Something about him drew Tommy in, made him want to be closer.

The boy had not yet experienced a crush on anyone before, male or female. He never cared to concern himself with other people unless he wanted a cigarette, alcohol, weed, or just to ‘get off.’ They were all interchangeable, faceless no ones.

The burgeoning tempestuous swell of lust and hormones were beginning to swirl even before Rita’s magic took hold. The teen found the reason that Jason was so magnetic once he became the Green Ranger and discovered that the Red Ranger was the object of his desires.

Fantasies intruded while he stared at Jason, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to stab him in the chest, to fuck him mercilessly while he strangled him to death. To take a belt to that gorgeous tan skin as his old man had done to him. To make him scream in pain and fear.

The long, slow descent had begun so many years ago and had set both Tommy and Jason on a collision course both in the Prime and Coinless Universe. Both with very different outcomes.

In the Prime Universe, the Green and Red Rangers were united, best friends to lovers.

In the Coinless World, both Lord Drakkon and his pet, Red, laughed together in shared insanity, both so crazed and mean, they weren’t even a shadow of their alternate selves.

#lord drakkon #boom! comics power rangers #jason scott #world of the coinless jason #power rangers #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #warning child abuse #too long

4 notes · View notes

bluebudgie · 2 years ago

Note

5, 6, 7, 19 about the character of yours most likely to deep fry bubblegum and enjoy it

Anon I know who you are and you are causing me a significant amount of grief trying to find out who even qualifies for this.

After long consideration and harshly judging about a quarter of my characters for their horrible life desicions I have decided that the most likely to actually do it and enjoy it is Veiju. He's got easy access to more cooking utensils than is healthy for him or anyone around him after all.

5. Is there any significance behind their hair color? 6. Is there any significance behind their eye color?

Honestly none very deep other than my previous two Sylvari used very dark brown tones so I wanted to create one with lighter brown tones this time. And since I'm scared of using too many colours it all became a very monotone matchy beige/yellow theme.

7. Is there any significance behind their height?

No super specific reason, I just saw him as the more lanky kinda guy. Until I created Ihdelyn he was my tallest Sylvari (which doesn't mean a lot considering my army of exceptionally short characters).

19. What is your favorite fact about your OC?

He was elected Honourary Skritt by the inhabitants of Skrittsburgh during his stay there. (I don't know if this is really the best fact but I don't want to make this about someone's music hobby again.)

#thanks for the ask 'anon' it made me question some of my characters' sanity #/jk <3 #budgie plays gw2

2 notes · View notes

thebelljarwriter · 22 days ago

Text

Lady in Red - day 20: cruise

im a bit late sorry just catching up with some days </3, day 20 for @31-daysofhorror :], day 21 will come soon I hope when I can write it

also once again, a lil bfucu ficlet starring Francesca Norris, a beloved here, let's go :>

1969

There was a certain chill in the December air, the horn of the ship had let out a roar that echoed into the sky as its passengers walked onto the board like marching soldiers, the folk chattering about, conversation seeming to mix into something unintelligible. The ship’s captain had noticed a young woman walk towards him, wearing a wine-red trench coat, a wine-red beret, wine-red pants, and black boots, she lowered her shades and locked eyes with the captain.

“Excuse me,” she spoke calmly, “is this the SS Dorothea?”

The ship captain nodded, and the lady in red thanked him graciously.

Francesca’s smile faded once she stepped foot onto the floorboards of the cruise, pushing her shades back to her nose. Despite the cruel, wintry chill, she had dressed fashionably for the occasion. Wine-red had been her favorite shade, oftentimes, you’d mistake the color for blood. Her eyes darted around the cruise before finally setting her sights on someone in the crowd. A tall noticeably figure in the crowd, dressed in a dark blue zoot suit and fedora, his cigarette smoke being noticeably as it floated in the air, Francesca winced, she could almost smell it from her, it was a surprise it didn’t burn her nostrils. She could hear his laughter as she went close to him, sometimes you could tell what type of person someone is by the way they dress.

She knew what kind of man this was, a typical man who did odd jobs for the mob, liked the burning taste of liquor and the thrill of rolling dice and shuffling cards in casinos, and the adrenaline of bar fights during the night. The man in blue.

Wayne Kinney was the son of a wealthy politician who had worked for the mob, being the politician’s son, he got away with a lot, that included stealing money from Francesca’s boss who declared he’d have his head served on a dinner dish along with his rat bastard father. (“Fran, I have a job for you. Mr. Kinney’s son, that little shit is going on a cruise with my money, I want you to put a bullet in that numbskull’s head, you hear me?” she remembered her boss saying to her the week before, “you have my word, sir.” she said to him before leaving.)

When Francesca got close to him, she could see he was in a drunken stupor, laughing harshly with a crowd of women surrounding him. He had rings on each finger, a golden chain necklace around his throat, and a diamond-encrusted bracelet. Francesca found herself staring in awe, she supposed he spent that money well. But she had a job to do, she wouldn’t let herself be distracted by miniscule detail.

The party had died down later that night, Wayne had stumbled across the hall and to his room, the door creaking to show a pitch-black room, his eyes trying to adjust to the nocturnal air as he walked in, the glass in his hand dropping to the carpet, the cherry wine staining the floor. For a moment, Wayne stopped, steadying his balance as he leaned against the bed frame of his bed, his eyes darted around the room, goosebumps beginning to form on his arms, the hair standing on his neck. Despite his drunken state, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched.

At once, the door slammed shut behind him and Wayne jumped like a frightened animal, almost falling onto the carpet. He could feel his heart thump in his chest, his breathing sharp and uneven. He got up, and the shine of the moonlight was the only thing that illuminated the room, and right beside him, the silhouette of a figure stood behind the mirror, her face enshadowed by the darkness of the room. Wayne flinched upon seeing the figure, like a ghost that had been waiting for him from his night of hedonism.

“Wayne Kinney.” The figure spoke in a monotone, feminine voice. “That is you, am I correct?”

Wayne stared at the figure, finding himself becoming shaky and weary, “who are you? What do you want from me?” he backed away slowly, his hand reaching for his nightstand and trying to look for the pistol he had there while keeping his eyes locked on the shadowy figure. He felt nothing but the smooth surface of the nightstand.

“Looking for this, Mr. Kinney?”

Wayne choked, hearing the cock of the gun in the figure’s hand. The blood in his veins grew cold, hearing the light flicker on and then … he saw her.

Francesca Norris. Lady in red.

Wayne felt himself backed into the corner like a scared dog, spluttering and trying to find the right words in his brain but nothing came out, making him look like a gawking fish. There she was, a mist in the wind, a woman who would kill without giving it a second thought. A cat that had finally cornered her prey, she smiled, the kind of smile that sent shivers down your spine. In her gloved hand, the pistol which Wayne had kept.

She inspected it for a moment, gazing with admiration.

“A colt m1911, I see, you know my father had one of these,” she let out a dry chuckle, “oh, yes, he kept one in a safe in case anyone tried to break into our home. Oh, yes, my father never used this though.”

Then, she aimed it at him, making Wayne freeze.

“Well, maybe only once.”

Francesca moved away from the window, keeping her aim at Wayne and stalking towards him – slow and graceful. Her smile quickly fading as her eyes narrowed at the man sliding his back against the wall, his hair a mess and eyes wide as dinner plates, she stopped and continued.

“One time, when I was very young, I woke up to the sound of my father telling me, my mother, Cathy and Kenny to get out of the house because of a suspected robbery,” she stated, “we were outside that night, waiting.”

Her grip on the gun tightened, “a thief had tried to take my father’s cash, and you know what happened?”

Wayne didn’t respond, head shaking innocuously.

Silence filled the room, only the heavy breathing that came from Wayne Kinney could be heard. Francesca had aimed the gun right at Wayne’s chest, her eye squinting at where to target it. She remembers as a little girl her father had taught her how to aim, she was taught archery from an early age, it would be no different aiming a pistol than aiming a bow and arrow. Just have to wait for the right time to strike.

And Francesca was good at striking as she was good at aiming.

A bang echoed through the room, the smoke from the gun emitting from its muzzle. The red staining Wayne’s blue suit before he fell to the floor, the blood seeping onto the carpet. Francesca stood still, watching, she whispered under her breath, “he shot him.”

***

The next morning, the cruise had gone home early, news of a young man shot in his room had made rounds that following dawn. Some say they witnessed him being followed by a lady in a red coat and red hat and seemingly disappeared that following night. Rumors and gossip would eventually flood around the city, floating in the air through news articles and headlines and even amongst folks.

As for Howard Kinney, Wayne Kinney’s father, nobody has seen or heard from him ever since.

#my writing #selene's weird wonderful writing #horror #bfucu #Francesca Norris #31doh2024

1 note · View note

thelittlehareofhell · 1 year ago

Text

Bound By Heart

Demon! Nightmare x Angel! Fredbear

"Prince Nightmare. It's time." The male said, bowing to the dark furred male gently. "You must take to the throne with your bride."

"I'm not marrying her." The prince hissed, not looking at the servant addressing him. "You know the one I love is no devil, nor female."

"Prince Nightmare, you must give up your fantasies... There is no way for you two to marry during war—" He was cut off.

"There is and I will have it happen!" Nightmare growled, baring his teeth harshly as his claws scratched the frame of his bed.

"I-I'll give you time, your highness.... But please, you must step up to your duties. Your kingdom depends on you."

»»————-　　————-««

"Fredbear... Darling, give up your sights on that filthy man. He doesn't love you. He wants to control you, please see that." The gentle voice of the golden angel's mother came as she brushed her fingers through her son's fur.

"I don't believe you. I can't..." Fredbear said softly, his ears down. "I love him, mama. I can't just give up on him..."

"We're doing this to protect you." The female replied, sighing softly.

"By forcing them to leave their home and declaring war against them over one suggestion?" Fredbear retorted, ears flat.

"They didn't want you to love each other. They wanted him to control you through manipulation." Fredbear's mother sighed, taking Fredbear's brush and running it through his fur. "This is for your own good, Fredbear."

»»————-　　————-««

Nightmare was sat up in a tree, wings covering him as he curled his tail around the branch. He was at the border between the two kingdoms, the tree he sat in making him hard to see against the sooty colored, dark grey bark of the tree and the sky behind him that led back to his kingdom. He was waiting for his old friend, the wait making him a bit worried considering how their kingdoms were still at war. However, he was doing his best to keep himself hidden for the case of an angel soldier coming past the border.

Fredbear was walking towards the border holding a basket of treats, something that his old friend would like very much. He had to randomly carry holy water when he went up because of this so called war. He felt bad for the demons because they where only suggesting something which really got the angels nerves but yet again he had no saying in this so he just had to meet his old friendnin secret now. He passed through the trees as looked at the neon lines that separated the land. He sat down and waited, thinking it was a bad idea to yell out Nightmare's name.

Nightmare came down once he saw Fredbear, landing with a soft thud as he wasn't too graceful when it came to landing from landing when he was already so close to the ground. Folding his half feathered wings he came over, sitting in front of Fredbear.

"Hello again, Fredbear." He said, his voice rather monotone though he bore a soft smile on his face. He looked more mature than the last time they had met; More prominent horns and in a suit that was made for the devil royal family.

"Hey Nightmare" Nothing much had changed of Fredbear accept for his bigger wings and his size abit. He seemed very childish still and very upbeat and bright as he gave a big smile. He puts the basket in between them for both of them to able to grabbed a cherry muffin and a frizzy soda from the human world "Seems like your horns grew bigger" He chuckled abit "You kinda look like a goat from the MakMak world" He joked trying to build conversation between them. He seemed very relaxed as his wings had fold in.

"Yes... I have been compared to a goat before. I personally don't see it.." He replied, taking a bite of the muffin Fredbear had brought for him afterwards. He slowly moved his tail behind him, the tip brushing against the only non-dead grass that he had known ever since the two had been separated. "The only resemblance I see is my horns."

Fredbear kinda seemed interested in the horns "May i touch them? They seem very heavy to carry on your head" He said as he took a sip from the fizz soda "Do they feel heavy on your head?" He asked, curious.

"I guess.. No one's ever asked. Then again almost everyone I see daily have horns themselves." Nightmare responded, bowing his head to Fredbear so he could touch his horns. "I've never really noticed their weight. They don't feel heavy to me. I've had them my entire life, so I suppose my muscles and horns grew at the same pace so I could support them on my head without any issues."

He blinked a bit, having an admiration for the golden angel bear. Especially when it came to personality. The positive tone he had despite the violence between their people was impressive to him.

Fredbear felt his horns but made sure he didn't touch anywhere that will make Nightmare uncomfortable. He seemed amazed as he then thought of a random question "Do you wash your own horns?" He said as he stopped touching his horns. "And if you do, do you wash them on a daily basis?" He asked while smiling.

"I keep them as clean as I can. I wash them several times a day. I don't like my fur and horns being dirty." Nightmare said in response, one ear flicking to the side. He had a soft smile in response, shifting his wings slightly. "I guess I can say that I like whens things are neat and well-kept." He continued, allowing Fredbear to touch his horns without much issue. Unless it was the tips, since for some reason those were sensitive to touch.. and that what Fredbear end up accidently touching. He really didn't think much of it as he softly felt the tip. He smiled as it gave off a nice little glare "Is there anywhere I shouldn't touch?"

Nightmare flinched at the touch, raising his hand to tell Fredbear to stop. "That.. Please don't touch the tips of my horns. They're sensitive." He said, lifting his head back up and meeting Fredbear's gaze. He moved his hands to his lap, glancing past Fredbear and at the angel palace in the distance. "Have your parents calmed down at all? Or are they still holding their grudge about my parents' proposal that we marry? For whatever reason they had..." He asked, his voice lowered at that last sentence.

"Well, they're mad. They really didn't like the marrying thing. Whatever they say about it, I was kinda wanting to marriage thing to happen" He blushed abit as he blushed a neon white "And, well, you going to hate me for this but.. I kinda did something to your muffin.." He blushed more.

"O-Oh... You did? Wait you did what?—" He seemed a bit worried about that last part. He seemed worried, his ears down as he had a look that said he had a fear that his friend was trying to give him something that would harm him. He curled his tail around his knees, meeting Fredbear's gaze. "What did you do?" He asked, a bit of fear of betrayal in his head.

"I put a love potion in your muffin, it not harmful" He kept blushing, sure he love potioning his friend but he wanted to make sure. The Love potion didn't force the victim to fall in love. It just made them deeply love there crush or lover "Just relax, i'm not going to hurt you" He promised Nightmare as he gave a smile as he then got the other muffin from the basket and ate it. He seemed to be getting alittle close to Nightmare.

Nightmare stayed silent, not really understanding just why Fredbear was doing it. He didn't know what to think. "Does it.. take any time to take effect?" He asked, having a bit of a blush on his face since he was assuming now that Fredbear wanted him to love him.

"Well, it takes full effect when you feel warm inside" He seemed to get really close to Nightmare "There's no side effects and no you will be conscious so you see everything that happens while your under the potion" He smiled as he was close enough to Nightmare to kiss him as he was sitting on his legs infront of Nightmare. Lust filled his eyes abit as he really wanted to do this. From when they turned 7 he alway liked him, he always help him and comfort him while he was down. Him being away from him but a random feeling in his heart he could only tell as love, he always sat it his room and draw couple pictures of Nightmare and barely slept. Now that he has Nightmare now, he wanted him, and his heart needed him~

Nightmare was in a wild mix of emotions, though a feeling of desire and lust was slowly building up inside him. His heart was beating quite quickly, and he was blushing a lot. He was a little 'shy' since he could tell by the way Fredbear was acting that he had desires. Alongside the look in the angel's eyes. The kind of desires that would only infuriate the angel bear's parents more.

Fredbear put his hand on Nightmare cheek as he went in for a kiss, he didn't care about anything else as all he focused on was making Nightmare his own. Maybe his lover for life, he then kissed Nightmare making the love potion effects stronger "Mmm~"

Nightmare's initial reaction was to instantly try to pull back. He hadn't been very open about the small crush he had on Fredbear, and he felt it was too sudden for Fredbear to be doing something like this, however after a few seconds he just allowed it, that feeling of lust rising up again. It wouldn't take much else for it to get too overwhelming to try and deny, avoid and run away from.

As Fredbear kissed him he then stopped "Oh dear! I went to far! I knew i did!" He seemed embarrassed as he didn't really mean to kiss him. He just wanted to get closer to him "I didn't mean to suddenly kiss you without your consent!" He seemed really embarrassed as he teared up abit.

Nightmare's gaze went to the ground for a moment, and truly before he could stop himself he pulled Fredbear up against him and met his lips to Fredbear in a rather passionate kiss, which would likely catch him off guard.

Fredbear was shocked at first. He though he messed up but slowly just relaxed and kissed back. This was his lover for life and he knew it. He kept kissing back slowly.

Nightmare found it difficult to hold back at that point, which is how after a few minutes he would be on top of Fredbear, his wings draped over the both of them as he met Fredbear's gaze with such lust that it was probably clear what his mind was going to.

Fredbear then broke the kiss as he then looked up at Nightmare "Nightmare? what are you" It then snap to him, what Nightmare was about do as he become hardly flustered. Was he going to mate with him?

"Shhh~" Nightmare cooed into his ear, tone like silk and smooth, eerily gentle. "I won't hurt you.."

Nightmare was already in the correct position, searching for the permission he so desperately wanted from Fredbear. It was hard for Nightmare to hold back on his desires, but for the sake of not making Fredbear avoid him, he was waiting for the other's consent.

Fredbear gave him the looked meaning he gave him consent "Be gentle with me please" He seemed wildly flustered.

Nightmare went for Fredbear's neck with his tongue, licking him gently as he proceeded to enter the angel, his force much more gentle than he had originally hoped for, but listening to Fredbear's request. He had to adjust himself for a few moments, soon the carefully thrust into him, his attention fully on their special moment.

Cute moans came out of the angel as he felt more loved. His wings covered around them abit, he held on to Nightmare as every time he was thrust into his wings twitched.

Nightmare had some difficulty with being as gentle as Fredbear was likely hoping for, but he was trying to keep his promise to take it easy for Fredbear. He didn't moan as frequently, but he still did enjoy it enough that he was occasionally moaning at the pleasure of finally being able to express his true feelings for the angel.

"Fuck~ Fuck~" He kept moaning as he felt really warm inside as Nightmare kept thrust "M-more~" He gave him permission to go fast or harder. As he then kissed Nightmare again.

Nightmare picked up his pace, going much harder on Fredbear, which would likely cause minor pain. He huffed softly, continuing to lick Fredbear's neck, leaving tender kisses every now and then. "I-I'm close.." He said with a bit of shakiness, his body still tensing up as he was close to releasing in the other.

"S-s-same..~" He kept moaning and moaning feeling Nightmare inside of him. He feels like he forgotten something but doesn't bother as he stuck his tongue out in pleasure.

Nightmare kept going, shaking a bit until he finally released, moaning as he did so, his body requiring a few seconds before he exited Fredbear. He was panting, getting off Fredbear and sitting down next to him.

"I.. never thought we'd be able to do something like that." He said, wrapping his wings around himself, fluffing up the feathered half.

Fredbear gave a loud moan as he was seeded in. As Nightmare pulled out he then remember that random though. It was that me was a fertile male meaning he could get pregnant. He instantly got up and started panicking. "I- God- I just remembered something!"

"What? What's wrong? What did you remember?" Nightmare asked, his eyes showing concern. He looked around, noticing a change in the energy around them. "I think we need to part ways soon, Fredbear. I think there's a patrol coming close. I'm going to have to cross the border soon." He then said, urging the angel to hurry and leave as soon as he could.

"Alright, but listen real quick. I just remember that I'm a fertile male, which means there a good chance i could get pregnant from this!" He said as he was kinda in a panic.

"I'm sorry.." Nightmare said, hugging him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I wish I could stay.. but I can't risk being captured. It would only make things worse." He then said, looking back towards the border.

"In the human world... when their moon is full, meet me back here. We can talk about this then. I love you..." He told him, giving him a mournful look as he took off, flying through the border, back towards his home with a feeling of guilt. In the thick smoke of the sky in the devil's kingdom, it would only be around twenty seconds before the angel would lose sight of him. Nightmare just hoped that Fredbear would be safe until he could see him again.

As Nightmare left he gave a sigh, he didn't know what he will do now. If his parents figured out he was pregnant with a demon baby, who knows what will they do. He cried abit as he then cleared his face, he had to accept this and hide this fact. He kept repeating what Nightmare said in his head so he wouldn't forget.

"Prince Fredbear. You must return to the palace. There's been a sighting of a devil troop near the southern border." Came the voice of an angel soldier, whom landed next to Fredbear. "We can't have them doing anything to harm you."

Nightmare carefully flew back through his bedroom window, landing and looking back out at the faint glow of the neon border line, sighing in the process. "I'm sorry.." He whispered, feeling guilty for having to leave Fredbear in his state of fear of the outcome of their decision.

Fredbear sighed "Yeah i know" He followed the angel guard back to his palace. He seemed sad and passed right by his parents. Going to his room and laying on his bed. He looked at his window as he had his mind on Nightmare and only him. He blushed as he had a feather that fell off him during their intercourse.

Nightmare whistled, calling his trusted phoenix to him. The bird landed on his shoulder, waiting for a command. Quickly writing a note for Fredbear. It read 'Send someone you trust to the human world and get three pregnancy tests. In two weeks, use them and if all of them are positive then we'll have to discuss what we're going to do.'

Once that was done, he gave his phoenix, Pele, the command "Find a dove and have it carry the note to the angel palace. Have it taken to Fredbear."

He then released Pele, hoping the message made it to Fredbear before anyone else saw it.

Fredbear still laid there on his bed as a random dove carried a note to him. He read it and looked abit surprised. He then looked around and then saw his pet mouse. He picked his mouse up and whispered in his cat ear what he wanted him to do. Unlike other mouse he was smart a knew what to do. Fredbear then teleported him to the human world, nervous, yet happy to have Nightmare's love.

»»————-　　————-««

The war got more tense, and more violent causing defense to be tough. It was only nine months later that their defense became too low because of the lack of troops. It was only this time that anything can cross the boarder. A dove came to Nightmare window with a note, it read:

'Nightmare...,

Please meet me at the golden lake please!'

The note ended there as there was a wet substance at the end of the page.

»»————-　　————-««

Nightmare read through the note rather fast, moving back a bit before going past two soldiers, pushing one out of the way, yelling "Move!" And taking off towards the lake. He knew that he'd probably have at least one soldier sent after him, but he didn't care. At least if it was another devil that found the two of them they wouldn't be angry. If anything they'd be happy. It could be a reason to stop the war. Nonetheless, Nightmare was going as fast as he could.

Fredbear could be seen at the lake. He was laying on his sighed as he softly rubbed his 9 month pregnant belly. He panted hardly as he was in labor. Painful throb went threw him every second. He breathed in and out waiting for Nightmare to appear. He didn't want to have his baby by himself. So he did his best and kept breathing in and out and wait for his Nightmare to arrive "Y-your so determined to come o *He grunts as he said outside* to see me and your father.." He seemed to cry as this was very very painful.

Nightmare took only a few minutes to arrive, landing and quickly moving over to Fredbear. "It's okay.. I'm here now." He said, holding Fredbear up against him, gently moving Fredbear's legs apart to aid the birth. "This makes it easier for the baby to pass through." He explained, his knowledge on birth and labor few, but his wish to try and help Fredbear great.

Fredbear grunts in pain as he started to push "Oooh god it hurts!" The tip of the baby head was coming out. Fredbear was in a large amounts of pain. He shifted as he cried, he cried not because of the pain, not because of the possibility of the guard finding them. It was that how thier child was going to be treated being half angel and half demon. He gave a yell of pain as he kept pushing.

Nightmare squeezed Fredbear's hand, reminding him to breathe in between pushing. He also kept his eye out for any soldier or guard that may find the two. He would fight to the death if he had to. It may have been a small crush when they were young, but this was now, and he wasn't going to let any harm come to Fredbear.

He kept pushing as the baby head came out. He gave a gasp of breath as he felt the baby's head come out.

»»————-　　————-««

Nightmare used his feathers to dry off the baby, afterwards placing it on Fredbear's chest, smiling at him. "They're here..." He said, holding Fredbear close. "Our family is finally together."

Fredbear cried in joy as he softly rubbed there baby back "Welcome to the world little one" Fredbear common smile came right out his face. He softly picked up the baby in his hands "Do you wish to hold him, Nightmare?"

Nightmare was about to respond until he heard approaching wings and he looked up. Instantly he growled a bit and spread his wings over Fredbear and their baby. Angel guards.

Nightmare's instincts were telling him to just drive them off, but he knew that being violent would only cause more hostility, so all he did was make it very clear that he would defend Fredbear if he had to. For now.

His ears were back, wings spread out to where Fredbear and their baby were completely covered.

"I'm not letting them hurt you." He said firmly, glaring at the guards as they landed.

The Angels held there spears towards nightmare. As this was going on, the baby let out a cry. The Angel hostility went down as the looked at the child, they seemed curious and mildly confused as the looked at the child "We must.. report this.." The Angels then flew off towards the angel castle. They where going to tell the Angel King and Queen about the angel-devil baby that was just born.

Nightmare remained there, his hold firm but not painful. He curled his tail around Fredbear, nuzzling his cheek. "We can't flee. There'd only be troops sent out after us. We have to stay here... Maybe a child will make your parents swallow their pride and accept that they can't choose who you marry or love." He said, sighing as he tried to direct the baby towards Fredbear's chest so it could try to nurse. "I... Don't know if you're going to be able to feed the baby with milk... But you can try." He then said, looking at the small child on his lover's chest.

Fredbear tried to feed the baby as the baby suckles off of something below Fredbear chest "Maybe.. But it a possibly..." Fredbear held the baby close to him "I just hope they don't take him away from me.." He started cry abit as he feared of what the future had for them. His wings almost curled around himself as he laid there, scared.

Nightmare wiped the tears from Fredbear's eyes, making him look at him. "I won't let them take him. Even if it means one of your own has to get hurt in the process. They have to realize that it isn't their choice." He promised, pressing his chest up against Fredbear's cheek to allow his extra fluffy fur to be up against him and hopefully calm him.

Fredbear smiled happily as you reassured him. He felt more confident as the baby opened his eyes. His eyes looked like Nightmares, the baby babbled as it looked at it parents "He has such beautiful eyes.." As Fredbear said that, the baby babbled happily as it little non-fully grown wings moved abit.

Nightmare tickled the little belly, smiling softly as he did so. "A perfect mix of our looks.." He said, resting his head on Fredbear's.

He was also keeping aware of any signs of incoming troops of either race, determined to keep his little family safe.

"... Nightmare, we should.. run away to the human world..." He says as he held their child closer "I don't wish to wait and see what will happen now..." He started crying again "If it's ok with you...."

"I don't think that's a good idea.. We wouldn't be safe there either. It actually could end up being more dangerous for us.. Especially me and the baby. Most humans have a poor view on demons. And.. I don't want to think about what some would try to do to an angel like you. I don't trust them..." Nightmare replied, watching figures in the distance getting ever closer. "Besides... I think it's too late to run without us being followed." The demon bear gestured to the incoming figures in the sky.

"I know, but i have a spell that can costume us as human...." He said "If we do it now they won't know it's us..."

"I'm taking you back to the devil palace. As us devils only ever suggested a marriage, the subjects of the kingdom shouldn't be hostile towards you. We'll hide you there... I'll go to your parents myself. All I ask of you is to write down your feelings towards me and explain our new family. It may be a dangerous risk but we belong with our people and families, not among humans." Nightmare said, getting up and carefully picking Fredbear up, keeping their son between them. "Hold him and onto me tightly." He instructed, looking in the direction of the castle of hell. "I'll fly us there myself. You're in no condition to fly just after birth."

"Alright, just make sure to stay safe my love" He said as he held on to Nightmare and held to his baby tighter so he wouldn't slip from hid grip "I don't wish for are child to not see his father."

Nightmare nodded, taking off and carrying Fredbear and their child back to his kingdom, gaining several confused looks by devils who saw him with Fredbear, the son of the ones that forced them out of their original home.

He took him to the palace, landing and taking a defensive posture upon seeing his mother and father enter the room. Neither seemed angry, more so surprised.

"Prince Fredbear? What are you doing here? Isn't it dangerous for you to be away from your castle?" His father began, only to have Nightmare's mother wave at his face to silence his questions.

"It is quite a surprise to see you, yes... But that doesn't mean we can't treat you well. Nightmare, let him down, dear." She said, looking Nightmare in the eyes.

Nightmare frowned, though kept himself from growling. "He's not in a condition to be moving around on his own." He responded to his mother, gently moving one of Fredbear's arms to show the child he held.

He looked abit scared as Nightmares mother looked at his child . He didn't think of much harm to come to him or his baby. He was just intimidated by there presents. He relaxed as the baby looked at his papa's parents and babbled happily.

Nightmare moved Fredbear to the throne he was set to inherit upon marriage, setting him down and giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back. I promise." He said, rubbing his son's head afterwards. "They'll protect you." He continued, even though the baby wouldn't be able to understand him yet.

He then turned and left before his parents were able to ask him what he meant with his statement.

After he was gone, the devil bear's mother moved over to Fredbear, kneeling down to get at the baby's level. "You two did love each other..." She said quietly, offering a finger to her grandchild.

"Yeah, it was kinda love a first sight.." Fredbear softly sigh as he baby happily player with his Grandma finger, babbling happily "At this moment i just want my child to have a normal life" He said as he offered for Devilbear's grandma to holding the baby.

Nightmare was by then landing in the castle Fredbear grew up in, having small cuts all over him from crashing through a window. He made eye contact with both of Fredbear's parents, standing tall and eyes narrowed. "You cannot control your son's life forever." He said firmly, ears back. "It's not your choice who he loves. He loves me, we have a child. Get over your pride. Your son is acting more mature than you."

Back with Fredbear Nightmare's mother accepted the invitation to hold the baby, holding him gently and being sure to stay close to Fredbear to help him keep his peace of mind. "He's so beautiful..." She whispered, smiling softly with wet eyes from how happy she was.

The baby babbled as it suckled on his own thumb "Haven't thought of a name for him"

The grandma bear gently tickled her grandson's little belly, smiling as she listened to his golden colored father. "That's something that should be discussed with Nightmare. When he comes back from wherever he went, of course.." She said, her tail swaying as her husband came over to watch.

The baby kept babbling happily as he was tickled. Fredbear looked abit upset. He hopes the Nightmare stays ok. Fredbear slowly started to fall asleep, him giving birth really took much out of him and him trying to stay awake.

"We won't be upset if you rest, dear." Morana, Nightmare's mother, said while looking at the half-asleep angel prince. "Birth takes a toll on the body. Rest will be good for you." She continued, setting the little baby on Fredbear's chest so he could feel comforted that his baby was close.

Fredbear smiled as the baby was suckling on his own thumb. The baby then started babbling upset as it was not in his grandma hands anymore. Sure the baby liked to be with his father but, Morana tickled him. He like that very much so he started crying. The baby cries weren't that loud just a medium volume cry as he cried to be in his grandma hands again.

Morana laid her hand against the baby's back, hoping that he'd fall asleep so Fredbear could rest and not be woken up by the upset child. "He's got the same spot that Nightmare had when he was young... A spot that he loved to be tickled on." She said quietly, looking at her husband.

"Dear, fetch one of Nightmare's old plushies. Maybe that could be a comfort for the little one." She instructed, receiving a nod from the baby's Paternal grandfather, Mabuz.

The baby calm down as it felt his grandma hands. The baby knew it wasn't a tickle but he felt relaxed. The baby have softly as happy babbles as he looked at Morana. A little baby smile came cross the baby face as it gave a happy giggle.

Morana stayed with Fredbear and the baby while Mabuz got a plushie, rubbing the small bear's back gently. She was hoping that he'd fall asleep, though if not she hoped the plushie would keep him calm so his dad could sleep.

Speaking of which, Mabuz came back with a small, grey bunny plushie that was less soft due to time and use than if it were new, but it was still something that the baby could cling onto for comfort.

Morana took the plushie and set it near the baby, watching to see the reaction her grandson would give to one of his father's old plushies.

The baby softly grabbed it, the baby started to put it in his mouth. Being curious as he is he thought it was food. The baby seemed calm as it had the plush it mouth. He suckles abit on it as he falls asleep slowly. The baby mind slowly going into his first sleep.

Nightmare came back to the palace, having a difficult time landing at first. He came up to Fredbear, kneeling down beside him. "Your parents wish to see you tomorrow." He said with a smile, hinting at good news. He had a cut on his cheek that was bleeding a little bit, but that was from the broken window of the angel's castle. "We may want to leave the little one here, just until everything's sorted out between our kingdoms." He offered the tired angel a wink. "I'm sure you'll enjoy what they have to say."

"I may" Fredbear said tiredly. He softly held the baby "Nightmare.. I wanted to ask.. Do you have name for our child...?" He felt numb but better abit rested. For a moment he smiled, smiled thinking that the war was just near over. And maybe.. Nightmare and him can get married, but only right now. He could just imagine.

"Perhaps.. Eijaz? It means miracle. For our little baby is a miracle." Nightmare suggested, tail swaying behind him. He leaned in to give Fredbear a kiss, leaving a tender touch on the male's cheek with a smile. "What do you think?"

"I think that's a great name.. Our little miracle , Eijaz.." Fredbear smiled happily as lil Eijaz gave a sneeze, from suckling on the plush he was given. Fredbear offered for Nightmare to hold him "Do you wish to hold him, my love?" He smiled as since he loved him, Nightmare wouldn't mind be called lover.. right?

Nightmare smiled, taking Eijaz gently, holding him and rubbing his back gently. He used his wings to carefully cover the little baby, having the slight worry of him getting cold due to not being able to control his own body temperature. He didn't have much experience with children, but it was just what he thought of while holding Eijaz.

Eijaz babbled happily as he was held by his father. Fredbear went back to sleep. He was really tired and him giving birth took alot out of him.

Nightmare glanced around, seeking a servant not performing a task to request formula from.

He knew that there was a formula commonly used for young devils somewhere in the palace's kitchen, but he didn't want to go too far from Fredbear. Since Fredbear was a bit weaker due to the exhaustion from giving birth Nightmare was feeling extremely overprotective and didn't want to leave Fredbear alone for long. As he glanced around Nightmare was rubbing Eijaz's ears, which were soft and fluffy since Eijaz was a newborn.

Eijaz gave cute giggles as he suckles his thumb. His personality was like Fredbear as he had a little smile and always had a bright feeling. Fredbear sleep softly as he felt relaxed, he softly smiled in his sleep.

Nightmare looked to his mother and gestured for her to hold Eijaz, letting her take him as he then returned to Fredbear. He carefully picked the angel up, looking at his parents and quietly requested that Morana come with him to his room and that Mabuz have his crib from when he was a baby taken to his room and set up for Eijaz. He wanted Fredbear to be close to Eijaz for the angel's peace of mind, so he thought that this would be the best way for him to do so.

He moved fast down the hallways, wanting to put his lover down as soon as possible to lower the chance of waking him up. Luckily, Nightmare made it to his room, as he entered and gently laid Fredbear down on his bed. Afterwards, he covered his sleeping lover up and looked to his mother, nodding to her and taking Eijaz, and his plushie, back before sitting on the other side of the bed and holding his newborn son while Fredbear would rest.

Eijaz gave light babbles as he kept suckling on his plush, of course some fluff got into his mouth causing him to cough abit. He then cries as Fredbear laid in the bed still passed out, his wings covered himself like a cocoon

Nightmare rubbed Eijaz's ears a little bit, then the cub's belly, afterwards tickling him with one finger. He wasn't very experienced with children, let alone newborns, so he wasn't sure how he would be able to calm Eijaz down. 'Maybe he's hungry..' Nightmare thought, silently wondering how he'd feed Eijaz.

Eijaz then calmed down, as he softly grabbed his father hand. It seemed like he took possession of whatever pleased him as he babbles happily while softly suckling on it.

Nightmare looked over at Fredbear, giving a soft sigh and standing up again. He left the room quietly, heading down to the kitchen and scanning through what the palace had to offer for a newborn, stopping once he found the formula he was looking for. With his free and arm Nightmare carefully prepared the formula as he soon gently nudged Eijaz's mouth to try and get him to latch onto and suckle on the bottle he had gotten instead of his hand.

Eijaz didn't suckle on it because it looked unfamiliar to him. He gave a uneasy groan as he moved his head away.

"Eijaz, dear, you need to drink from the bottle.." Nightmare said quietly, trying to nudge Eijaz again; See if he could tempt the baby into latching onto the bottle, or in some way get him to drink from it. With a few nudges, he then suckles off the bottle. He got use to it when he tasted the milk that was kind of the same as his father's.

Nightmare smiled when Eijaz took the bottle, carrying him back to his room and sitting down next to his lover.

Meanwhile in the background a few of the servants of the palace were quietly setting up the crib that Nightmare slept in when he was a baby in one corner.

Eijaz drank it all, for a little guy he sure was hungry as he still suckles off the bottle after it was finished.

Nightmare's mind lingered on the thought of if he should wake Fredbear up so he could let Eijaz nurse; Not wanting Fredbear to be exhausted but not wanting to deny Eijaz the chance to nurse and get the benefits of his father's milk that weren't as easily provided with a supplement formula. After a few minutes he decided to take the risk and wake Fredbear up briefly to get him to try to nurse Eijaz.

"Love... I know you're tired, but Eijaz is still hungry and I already gave him a bottle. I think you need to let him nurse." He said, gently nudging his lover to wake him up.

Fredbear woke up as a soft sigh came out of him. He yawns as he reaches his hands out for Eijaz. He wasn't mad just abit woosey as he just woke up "It alright... Just hand him here" Fredbear said as his cute smile appeared back on his face.

Nightmare smiled, gently giving Eijaz to Fredbear and having a calm look in his eyes. "When you feel ready, your parents want to speak with you. Along with my family... Perhaps we could bring Eijaz along; Let them see the grandson they now have." He swayed the tip of his tail. "It would be nice.."

"Sure.., just give me a few hours of rest..." He said as Eijaz kept feeding off of Fredbear. Fredbear seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

Nightmare nodded, silently agreeing. He got up, leaving the room to allow Fredbear to sleep uninterrupted; Unless by Eijaz. He went to speak with his parents; Discuss the request for them to accompany him and his lover to the angel palace, and the possibility of ending the war. Along with backup plans if Fredbear's parents attempted a betrayal towards the family their son had passed his genes down with.

»»————-　　————-««

Around six hours later Nightmare was again nudging Fredbear, this time more formally dressed and holding some clothing that would fit the golden male. It was a more pale white & gold version of the traditional clothing of a newly wed devil; Seemingly sewn and made during the time Fredbear had been asleep. "Wake up, love. They would like to meet us there soon and I wanted to be sure that these clothes fit you. Since your current ones still need to be clensed of the fluids and such from Eijaz's birth." His voice was soft and caring, hinting at how he didn't want to wake up the sleeping angel but didn't want them to disappoint the angel's parents either.

Fredbear softly yawned, the cute smile on his face "Alright" He yawned loudly as he was back to his energetic self. But of course he wasn't moving the fastly as he slowly sat up with Eijaz in his arms. Eijaz was asleep as Fredbear seemed to held him close "Heh.. seems like he having his first dream" He said as Eijaz seemed to babble in his sleep.

Nightmare smiled, setting down the clothes he had for Fredbear. "These were sewn for you while you were resting. I hope they fit.." He said, looking at their little boy as he was having his first dream of his young life. He smiled softly at the sight, wondering if this was what their parents felt like when the two of them were still small cubs like Eijaz.

"They will fit" He said as then Eijaz started crying, he was still asleep. Looks like his dream turned into a nightmare instantly.

Nightmare gently took Eijaz and rubbed his back, trying to gently wake him up to try and calm him down. He turned his gaze away from Fredbear so he could change, focusing on helping their child before they'd depart for the angel kingdom.

Eijaz kept crying as Fredbear then hummed something, it was way to soothing. It was enough to sooth Nightmare and Eijaz as Eijaz cries went away. Fredbear continued to sing not knowing that Eijaz was asleep.

Nightmare smiled, glancing back at Fredbear. "You have a beautiful singing voice, love." He said, nuzzling Eijaz gently with his nose, careful with his horns. He shifted his wings a bit, after a moment stretching one outwards before folding it again. "I have an itching urge to fly. It's been too long since I've been able to fly around for more than a few minutes."

"Well, if you want to I don't mind watching Eijaz until your back" He said smiling as he sat up, his eyes still looked tired but his face and body said otherwise.

"I believe the flight to the angel palace should be enough to satisfy the urge to stretch my wings and fly. And if not I can always fly around while you and my parents talk to your parents." Nightmare insisted, nuzzling Fredbear gently. "Whenever you're ready we can head out. My parents are prepared for us to depart."

Fredbear got up and stretched his wings. He felt air pass through them, they went back to resting position as he slowly got up.

Nightmare stood up, swaying his tail slowly as the tip brushed against the ground. He took Eijaz and left the room, going and standing beside Morana to wait.

Morana gave Eijaz a few of his seemingly favorite thing; Tickles. It was gentle and quick, though it was still something from the small male's grandmother.

Eijaz chuckled as he was tickled, Fredbear then came with the clothes that Nightmare gave him. He looked beautiful in them.

Nightmare's smile grew when he saw Fredbear. "You look amazing, my love." He said, Morana agreeing with a nod.

"I'm glad that it fits you. I was afraid is was too loose." She said, stretching her dark grey wings.

Fredbear smiled more seeing her stretch her wings made him do the same without him thinking.

Nightmare came and gave Fredbear a kiss, smiling happily. "Are you ready, my love?" He asked, Morana and looking excited to potentially see the end of the war. Mabuz seemed more numb to everything, seeming a bit suspicious about the request for all of them to be there. The years of war had taken a toll on his ability to trust Fredbear's parents.

"As ready as I'll ever be" Fredbear softly smiled as the knew the end of the war, was coming to a close at this moment. Probably they're about to make history, either bad or good. He kissed Nightmare back as he smiled.

"Then, let's go. I believe they'll make you happy." Nightmare said, taking Fredbear's hand and hopping up into the air, half dragging his lover with him. He was beginning the flight to Fredbear's home palace, being followed by his mother and father. Nightmare held Eijaz close to his body to be sure he didn't drop him, all while Eijaz clung onto his chest fur.

Fredbear flapped his wings as he followed Nightmare, he wasn't as fast as Nightmare but a decent speed. He smiled as he knew this war was all going to be over and he will live happy with Nightmare and Eijaz. Maybe get married, he started imagining things but kept focused to fly.

Nightmare kept his quite frankly excited pace until the angel palace came into view. The angels that weren't guards nor residents of the castle seemed in a bit of shock seeing Nightmare and his parents with Fredbear without being attacked. Nightmare was actually able to see the window he broke through the day before. He still had a few cuts from it.

Fredbear landed in afterwards but made sure to not step on any glass, his smile loosened abit as he was now about to confront his parents. Heck, he was extremely nervous but tried to keep his happy expression as he started the conversation with "Hi mama, hi dad"

"Welcome home, darling." His mother said, looking to her husband.

"We're disappointed that you lied to us about where you were going, but that cannot be changed now."

There were a few guards holding their weapons towards Nightmare and his parents, though they received a stern look from Fredbear's father.

"We thought of it last night, dear. That it might be time for you to take to the throne. We can no longer hold you back from whom you want to marry." His mother continued, looking to Nightmare. "All we want is for him to take care of you."

Fredbear took a look around as he just softly smiled, he now knowing he can now marry Nightmare and live happily with him "Thank you mama" He gave a bright smile as he wished right now that Nightmare would get on his knees and propose. Which, with a huge smile, Nightmare did.

»»————-　　————-««

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf au #creative writing #writeblr #fnaf 4 #fnaf #writing on tumblr

1 note · View note

shirakumos-sandwich-shop · 2 years ago

Text

Tale of the Flower Hashira Pt.5

MASTERLIST

INFO:

This story will contain Kyojiro Rengoku x Reader, Tengen Uzui x reader and Douma x reader. All separately. (Tengen is still in a relationship with his wives.)

Y/n Shinaguzawa is 18 at the start of this story. physical appearance is mentioned, y/n has long white hair and specific scarring. Skintone, eye color etc. are not mentioned.

There are some changes to Sanemi and Genya’s backstory and relationship.

WARNINGS:

If you are uncomfortable with any of the following then DNI.

(Extreme gore, Swearing, Manipulative behavior, disturbing content, Unhealthy relationships, disturbing relationship between child y/n and a demon.)

Chapter 5:

“Hello!”

You jumped at the voice and opened your eyes. The flame hashira stood over you holding out his hand to help you up. You had been resting underneath a tree at the Master’s estate, waiting for the meeting of hashira to begin. The news of a young demon slayer and his demon sister had stirred up a lot of drama.

“The master will be here soon. Are you planning on coming or will you just sit in the dirt the whole time?” Kyojiro smiled widely, still holding out his hand.

You took it gingerly and got to your feet. “I happen to like the dirt.”

This made him laugh loudly and you followed him to the masters house where the other hashira were already gathering. You hesitated behind Kyojiro, unsure if you should stand next to him in line or not. Before you could decide, he reached out and tugged on your sleeve, pulling you gently to stand between him and Muchiro Tokito.

____

The meeting became absolutely maddening. The poor Kamado boy who was already beaten to a pulp was forced to the ground while his demon sister was being stabbed through her box by your own elder brother. Sanemi dragged her box into the shade of the master’s porch and kicked the box open to reveal the tiny demon girl.

“Brother, don’t do this.” you said calmly.

Sanemi whipped his head towards you. “She’s a demon y/n! All demons are the same, there is only one thing they want.” He slashed a cut across his arm and held the dripping wound out, taunting the girl.

“SANEMI!” You shouted harshly. “STOP THIS!”

Every hashira turned to you in shock. never even once had you raised your voice above a quiet monotone. The master only smiled slightly at your outburst. With a quick stride, you leaped up onto the shaded porch of the master’s house. You bowed quickly to Kayaga.

“Forgive me, master.” You said in your usual quiet tone before stalking over to your elder brother. A swift uppercut to the jaw sent him flying back against the wall. “I AGREE SHE SHOULD BE TESTED BUT THIS IS TOO MUCH. Stop thinking with your sword, oniichan, and consider the fact that she might be useful to us.”

“DAMN, she’s flashier than I thought. I like this new one!” Tengen Uzui grinned wildly at the new developments.

You suddenly felt self conscious and felt the need to return to your spot. But before you left, you looked down at the small demon who was huffing angrily in her box. You nodded to her, bowed to the master again, and took your place at Kyojiro’s side. Sanemi gave you a quick glare before returning to his own spot.

_____

The rest of the meeting was a blur and you kept your head down for the rest of it. All the while, being very conscious of Kyojiro stealing glances at you throughout the meeting.

You expected to be reprimanded for your behavior, but no word of it came from the master. The Hashira all broke ranks and headed in different directions, off to their separate estates. You immediately left in the direction of the home you shared with your brothers, knowing you’d probably end up in a shouting match with Sanemi once you walked in the door.

“Will you come join me for dinner?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin for the second time that day.

“Only if you want to of course.” Kyojiro added.

You looked up at the flame haired man, his smiling red eyes piercing you. “I want to.”

_____

Rain began to patter on the roof as you entered the little restaurant. It only had a few customers, so you and Kyojiro found a quiet spot in the corner of the cozy building. You ordered one of your favorite dishes while the flame hashira proceeded to order everything on the menu. Kyojiro ate every bite while yelling “TASTY!” at the top of his lungs. When he finished, he looked at you, deadly serious.

“I was never one to hide my feelings, so I’ve decided to tell you without any delay.” He shoved the last bit of chicken into his mouth before continuing. You waited tensely, unsure of what he was going to say. He swallowed and then looked you directly in your remaining eye, his own fiery ones nearly glowing with anticipation. “I quite like you, y/n. I’d like to start building a relationship with you. I wanted to make my intentions clear from the start. Plus Tengen was saying some nonsense about having you be his fourth wife, which would really annoy me. But he can’t try anything if I’m already with you.”

You sat there, mouth parted in surprise, unable to say a single sensible word.

“If you need time to think about it then I shall wait for your answer, no matter how long it takes.”

____

“Y/n, you promised me.”

____

“Y/n?” Kyojiro asked.

“Can I think about it?” You tripped over your words as you got to your feet.

“Of course.” He followed your example and went to pay for the meal.

You rushed to the door and walked out into the gray evening. Rain began pouring down in heavy sheets. Your hair and clothes were already getting soaked. Suddenly you felt something drape over your head.

“I’ll walk you home.” Kyojiro said, holding his flame patterned haori over your head.

You stood there, dumbfounded, looking up at the flame hashira who was protecting you from a little rainfall.

“Well? Are we going?”

“Alright...”

You walked beside each other, not making any real conversation. His hand brushed against yours. It was such a beautiful hand, calloused and strong from years of wielding a sword. Yet it was so gentle all the same. Your hand brushed up against it again and you slipped your hand into his. His hands were so warm, like there was really a fire burning inside him.

He gave you a questioning look, but laced his fingers with yours. “Is this a yes?”

You walked a bit farther, letting the question stand. You were already in view of the estate that you and your brothers shared. His thumb traced the back of your hand.

____

“Y/n, you promised… You’d stay here forever with me.”

____

“Y-yes.”

He stopped in his tracks, pulling you to a halt with him. The rain continued to soak the haori that was draped over you.

“Do you feel the same?” He asked, much quieter than usual. He pushed a wet lock of hair out of your face. “Because I like you very much.”

You tried to meet his piercing red eyes but could barely hold eye contact for more than a second. Heart beating furiously all the while, you heard the words tumble out of your mouth before you realized you had even said them. “I like you, Kyojiro.”

“May I?” He cupped your scarred cheek in one hand and wiped a droplet of rain from your face.

You nodded, unable to say any real word of assent. Kyojiro leaned in slowly and kissed you. All you could sense was how warm and soft it felt, surrounded by the cold rain. He drew back, a smile coming to his lips.

“Y/n, come inside, now.” Sanemi snapped.

You instantly staggered back and away from Kyojiro and saw your brother several yards away at the gate to your home. He fixed Kyojiro with a glare, it was obvious he wasn’t angry, but an unusual wareyness had overcome him. Sanemi jerked his head to the side, motioning for you to get back to the house. Quickly, you handed Kyojiro his haori and rushed into the estate, sparing one last blushing glance towards your flame hashira.

Pt. 6

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hello, tis I, the author of this tale. I hope you’re enjoying it so far. As I have stated in the description of this fic, this is gonna be Kyojiro x y/n, Tengen x Y/n, and Douma x y/n. It will be complicated.

I’d love to know what you readers are thinking so far, so feel free to comment and such.

Taglist: @violet-19999 @devilfleur

#Tale of the flower hashira #demon slayer #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku x reader #kyojiro rengoku x reader #douma x reader #douma x y/n #tengen uzui x reader #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #hashira x reader #upper moons

88 notes · View notes

turtle-steverogers · 3 years ago

Note

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

389 notes · View notes