#where he won't let himself get close to anyone and is only left with his grief over a family he'll never have again

[bcdrawsandwrites]

[ID: A Psychonauts 2 fic cover featuring Oleander and Loboto. Loboto is lying on the examination table in Sasha's lab, pushing himself slightly upright with his prosthetic arm so he can glare at Oleander. Oleander, meanwhile, is sitting on top of Loboto, arms crossed as he glares back down at Loboto (though his false eye is out of focus). The title of the fic, Dentist-Sitting, is above them. /end ID]

Fandom: Psychonauts Rating: K Genre: Humor (but some serious moments too) Characters: Morceau Oleander & Caligosto Loboto (with Sasha and a few others appearing briefly) Warnings: None. Fic Description: While everyone else heads off on the much-more-exciting casino mission, Oleander is left at the Motherlobe with a mission of his own: keep an eye on Loboto while Sasha is gone. Beta Readers: @jaywings and @pinkygrocket (also thanks to @eggityeggs for rendering my fic cover!) Notes: I tweaked the layout of the Motherlobe slightly here. (You cannot convince me they have only one bathroom.) Also, this contains references to some of my other Psychonauts fics, but you don't need to have read those to understand this.

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Oleander charged through the atrium as he made a beeline for the lobby. It wasn't time to leave just yet, but he didn’t care. When was the last time he'd gotten to go on a mission—er, aside from earlier today, when he'd helped infiltrate Loboto's mind, and before that, when he'd gone with everyone to the Rhombus? Those had felt like exceptions—Sasha and Milla still wanted to keep a close eye on him while they finalized things at headquarters, so he had to come along. Not that he complained. Heck, if this probation thing meant he'd have to get dragged along on missions, then it couldn't be too bad, right?

Of course, Sasha and Millla hadn't exactly gotten everything cleared with Truman and Forsythe yet, given the more pressing mole situation. Bad as that was, could anyone blame him for jumping at the bit to see some real action again? And this would be the real deal if they let him come along, not just dragging him along because they had to. If Forsythe didn't show up—which she wouldn't—he'd get to step in and take her place!

Hurrying out the front door, he turned toward where the jet was parked, only to skid to a halt.

Forsythe was there, along with all the interns.

"...and I thought, you know what, Agent Vodello was right!" Agent Forsythe exclaimed. She was far more peppy than usual, and he couldn't blame her. "This would be an excellent earning—uh, learning opportunity for our interns!"

"I agree. So long as they stay out of trouble, there should be little issue here," Sasha said with a nod. "I'm glad you're joining us."

As Forsythe turned to guide the interns onto the jet, Sasha prepared to enter as well. Oleander bit his lip and rushed up to Sasha before the jet could pull him in.

"Room for one more?" he asked, punctuating his words with a smile.

"Ah, Morry." Sasha turned to face him. "Agent Forsythe changed her mind and will be accompanying us on the mission, so your presence won't be necessary."

Oleander's heart sank, and he swallowed back the old bitterness that worked its way up his throat. "...Right. Well uh... good luck, Nein." With that, he began to turn back toward headquarters.

"...Actually."

And Oleander spun on his heels, eyes wide and heart leaping.

Sasha was looking to the side with one hand to his temple, probably in conversation with Milla. After a moment, he nodded, then looked back at Oleander. "There is something we could use your help with."

"You name it!" Oleander cried, a wide grin stretching past his mustache. "What do you need me for—need an extra agent to spy on someone? Need me to stick around for backup? I'm there!"

"As I said before, your presence won't be required here."

Oleander's smile dropped.

"However—"

And he perked up again, leaning toward Sasha eagerly.

"There's something I would like your assistance with here at the Motherlobe."

"Oh." Once again Oleander deflated, but pointed toward Otto's lab with a grin. "I mean, if you need help with the Motherlobe's defense system, I'm sure Otto and I could—"

"I need someone to keep an eye on Loboto while I'm gone."

"Wait—that's it?!" Oleander cried. "You're putting me on babysitting duty?!"

"I am putting you in charge of a dangerous criminal who happens to be one of the few people to possess knowledge of the mole's identity." Sasha massaged his forehead. "I sedated him for the time being, but there's no guarantee it will last for the entirety of my absence, and I have found no one willing to watch him while I'm gone."

"Ugh. Still not a particularly glamorous—"

"Morry, this is not about glamour." Sasha took a step closer, and Oleander took a step back in surprise. "People's lives are at stake. We still have yet to determine what's happened to Truman, and we may not know until we discover the identity of this criminal."

"R-right, yeah." Oleander tugged at one of his gloves. "Sorry, just got caught up in the—" He shook himself, straightening his stance. "Very well! I accept this mission, Agent Nein. I'll keep an eye on him."

"Good." Sasha put a hand to his temple again, and a telekinetic hand reached out from the ship. "Be sure to report to me if you learn anything from him, should he awaken or say anything of interest in his sleep." The hand grabbed him, carrying him up and into the jet. "Good luck, Morry."

"Same to you, Nein."

Oleander offered a salute before turning back toward the Motherlobe. As the jet lifted off behind him, he heaved a sigh, glancing over his shoulder to watch it go.

So much for that mission… and that reasonably-priced buffet.

His stomach growled.

"Well, Noodle Bowl it is, then."

Stepping into headquarters with much less energy than when he'd left, he made his way back to the atrium and then to the Motherlobe's cafeteria. His mind bounced back and forth over what kind of salad he wanted today as his eyes scanned the menu. Briefly, he tried to recall which one Milla had recommended to him a while back, only for his mind to drift back to Sasha, wondering if he'd bothered to eat before the mission. Probably not, knowing him.

...Which probably meant Loboto hadn't eaten either.

"You gonna order or what?"

Oleander blinked, realizing he was at the front of the line. "Er, yes! One cucumber salad, and uh..." He glanced over the menu again—his eyes lingered on the salads before hesitantly drifting over to the other items on the menu. He winced. "And one hamburger. Two waters."

As the chef watched him slide his card through the reader, she raised her brow at him. "Change your diet, now, Oleander?"

"No, no," he replied, waving his hands in protest. "Just picking up lunch for um... someone else."

"Right, got it..."

Not long after, he found himself carrying a plastic salad box with a greasy cardboard hamburger box placed on top, and holding them at an arm's length while he carried the waterbottles under one of his arms. "Eeeughh," he said, tongue sticking out and nose wrinkling at the scent of greasy ground beef. He'd never actually seen Loboto eat, even when the two of them worked together, but he hoped this would be good enough for him. If not, he'd have to deal with it—he wasn't paying for some other crummy meal.

He nearly stepped into his office before remembering where he was supposed to go, and turned to Sasha's lab instead. The various fancy blinking consoles—half of which he was pretty sure Sasha didn't even use—greeted him, as did the loud snores coming from the lanky figure on the examining table.

"Huh," Oleander murmured, stepping up to Loboto to look him over. He was curled up on his side, out like a light for all Oleander could tell—his creepy robot eyes were definitely unlit, anyway—and his snores were occasionally broken up by incoherent mumbling.

After standing by the doctor for a few moments to be sure he wasn't suddenly going to spring awake, Oleander made his way into Sasha's office area, tossing the hamburger box and one of the water bottles onto the coffee table. The box left a splat of grease beneath it, and he winced, nudging it further away with his own water bottle. He took a seat on the couch, eyeing the greasy box as though expecting it to sprout legs, and scooted slightly further away. From there he began to dig into his salad—cucumber was definitely the right choice—as he kept an ear out for whatever Loboto was doing. Which was still sawing logs. Was he really just going to be out for the entire time? What on earth did Sasha use on him, anyway? Man, he should have brought a book or something...

As Oleander finished the last few bites of his meal, he heard a few quick snorts from the lab, followed by some more frantic mumbling. Setting his empty box aside, he stepped back into the lab, eyeing Loboto.

"No, no no. I won't," the oversized dentist mumbled, one of his legs jerking in his sleep. "I won't, I won't..."

Sasha had said something about Loboto talking in his sleep, hadn't he? "You won't what?" Oleander prodded, raising an eyebrow.

"Won't tell..."

"Ugh, of course you won't." Rolling his eyes, Oleander turned back toward the office.

"W-won't tell them... what the doctors said..."

"What?" Oleander spun back around, brow furrowed in confusion.

But Loboto only shuddered before settling back into snores.

Doctors, huh? That was new. He made a mental note to let Sasha know later, if he didn't already... not yet, though. Oleander stepped closer. "What did the doctors say?"

Loboto snorted. "No, no... Dad said I couldn't tell..."

All right, so it wasn't anything about the mole or the kidnapping—this was just some dream about a childhood memory. Nothing useful for him.

I'll show you what little bunnies are used for—

Oleander jerked in surprise, smacking himself in the head a few times. Nope, no, none of that. He was definitely done with those nightmares and he didn't need his mind reminding him of them. It didn't stop his heart from hammering against his ribs, and he shook his head, hurrying back to the office to grab his bottle of water. He guzzled it down, hopefully swallowing his anxiety with it.

"No, no, no, get away—AH!"

CRASH.

Hacking up water that had just gone down the wrong pipe, Oleander stumbled back into the lab, finding Loboto lying face-first on the floor next to the examining table and groaning. "Geez," Oleander wheezed, and cleared his throat. "You gotta make my job harder for me, don't you?" With that, he gently TK'd Loboto back onto the table, letting him sit upright.

Loboto swayed where he sat, optics flickering and moving sluggishly, zooming in and out, but ultimately remaining unlit. Without warning, he reached up and smacked his own robotic eyes a few times, and they finally flickered on, like Christmas lights attached to a Halloween decoration. They adjusted a few more times before locking onto Oleander. "You?" Loboto cried. His voice was slightly slurred. "What're you comin' back to me for? I'm not buildin' you anoth'r tank..."

"Take it easy, Cal, I'm just here to watch you."

"Watch me what...?" His eyes darted in one direction, then another, his head lagging behind with the movement. "I don't have a patient for the... operating theater..." He swayed again where he sat, looking in danger of toppling back over the side of the table again.

Boy, he had not signed up to deal with a half-drugged dentist. Was this a side-effect of whatever Sasha had used on him, or...?

Something occurred to Oleander, and he rushed back into the office, returning with the greasy box and water bottle, which he set on the examining table.

Loboto's eyes locked onto the items. "What's this?"

"Some rations," Oleander replied. "When's the last time you ate?"

For a moment the dentist's eyes began moving around again, crossing a few times as he tried to process the question. "Orange," he finally said with a definitive nod.

Oleander was about to protest that that wasn't what he'd meant, but stopped himself; there wasn't much of a point in arguing with someone who could barely hold a conversation at the moment. "Well, this is lunch. Have at it."

Hesitantly, Loboto reached out with his claws, poking the box a few times before the lid popped open. His optics zoomed in on the hamburger. "...not fish, is it?"

"Uh, no. It's a hamburger, not a fishburg—"

Loboto shoved the entire thing into his mouth before Oleander could finish. He looked away, holding his hands in front of his face as he listened to Loboto ravenously chomp the thing down. "You're welcome," he grumbled. "You'd better not make yourself sick from eating that so fast, or Sasha will have my head."

Once Loboto had guzzled his water down, Oleander finally looked back at him. He seemed somewhat more alert now, whether from receiving nourishment, or said nourishment helping him wake up from his goodness-knows-what-induced daze. Or maybe both. "Feeling any better there, Cal?"

"No. This place has terrible room service! I never got breakfast. Terrible room in general, too." He whacked his prosthetic limb against the padded table with a thunk. "No wonder I fell off this thing."

Maybe it would've been better if he'd stayed unconscious. "Well, you're not exactly here for your own comfort."

"Oh, are you here to interrogate me, too?" His claw gripped the thin padding of the table, digging into it. "I never said a word to that nicotine-addicted ninny. What makes you think I'll talk to you, little army man?"

"I'm not here to interrogate you, just to keep an eye on you." Oleander paused, rubbing his chin. "Though that's not a bad idea. I could ask you a few questions—"

"Or I could just make a run for it." And Loboto swung around to leap off the other side of the table, only to faceplant yet again. He smacked his hand against the floor. "Stop makin' the room spin."

Rolling his eyes, Oleander TK'd Loboto back onto the table, laying him down this time. "That wasn't me. Looks like you've been Sasha's guinea pig of the day."

Loboto's optics spun in slow circles for a few moments before coming back into focus. "Yes. I think we've got the positions wrong," he said, pushing himself into a seated position. "I'm not the subject. I'm the one who runs the experiments!"

"Not now you ain't," Oleander said, gently nudging Loboto back down onto the table with a telekinetic poke. "Lie down."

"Nnnghh!" Loboto flailed his arms, trying uselessly to grab at the transparent hand holding him down. "No! I won't! You're due for a wisdom tooth pulling!"

A vision flashed through his mind of those red-and-green lights gleaming down at him from the darkness while a claw brandished at him. Are you actually going to help me with this project or am I going to have to test it on you instead?

Oleander’s TK hand grabbed Loboto around the chest, yanking him off the table with a choked squawk. Oleander kept one hand held out in a fist, the other on his temple as he eyed the dentist. "You gonna cooperate here, or are we gonna do things the hard way?"

Loboto glared down at him, eyes flashing.

"We're not partners anymore, Cal," he growled. "I don't gotta put up with you."

Loboto flinched, but remained quiet. Oleander eased him back onto the table, where he lay calmly, even when Oleander removed the hand. After nodding in approval, he turned around, TKing a desk chair from Sasha's office over to the table—like heck he was going to stand here the entire time.

As he pulled the chair over, it struck him suddenly that, while no, he and Loboto weren't working together now, they had in the past. As in three days ago. Technically, Oleander hadn't even heard an official decision for what the Psychonauts would do with him, after all that he'd done—which was, namely, working with a criminal, abducting both campers and his fellow agents, hypnotizing a civilian (and a fish), and stealing brains in an attempt to take over the world. Now, he'd been left to watch over the very criminal he'd been working with only a few days ago.

Had this been a mistake? Or was Sasha...

"Were you satisfied with the tanks, at least?"

Flashes of a monstrous tank of plant and stone roared into his memory, and he spun around to glare at Loboto. That wasn't the tank the dentist was referring to, but after Nein, Vodello, Cruller, and Raz had all dragged him through his mental worlds, well...

"I'm not talkin' about that right now."

Lifting his head, Loboto's permanent grin widened. "You should've gone with my original plan. That would've been much more effective."

"Yeah, I said I'm not talkin' about it." He hopped up onto the desk chair, his gaze fixed on one of the flickering consoles on the other side of the room.

"You could at least talk about payment. You never paid me my last paycheck. Or the one before that. Or any of them." Loboto's claw dug into the padding of the table again. "You think we just grow food at the asylum?"

"What asylum?" Oleander muttered bitterly, glancing back at him.

Loboto's grin suddenly twisted. "Oh. I'd forgotten it had gone down in flames." His optics began to flick around the room nervously.

Oleander opened his mouth, nearly asking how Loboto knew about that when it had happened after he'd been blasted out the window, but cut himself off—he didn't want the guy to think that had been anything to do with him (though the plan had been to... be rid of Loboto in some fashion). "Yeah, was a heck of a battle there," he said instead. "What happened to you, anyway? Why'd you run off?"

"What do you take me for, one of those tumorous rats that scurry away from bright light?" His eyes snapped over to Oleander. "I was blasted out the window by the test tank!"

Leaning back, Oleander raised his brows and placed a hand on his chest in hopes of looking as though this was his first time hearing that information. "Blasted out the window?" he repeated in the best shocked voice he could muster. "How'd you survive that?"

The corners of Loboto's mouth twitched. "Oh, I have plenty of talents other than dentistry and brain surgery, you know... some that can surprise even me."

"Was it your talents? Or that other client you didn't tell me about?"

"Oh no you don't!" Loboto crossed his arms, turning his head away. "I'm not talking about that!"

"Yeah, and I don't want to talk about our work either." Oleander grunted, leaning back in the chair. "Guess we're even."

The two were silent for a moment, aside from the twitching of Loboto's mechanical eyes. Slowly they turned to look back at Oleander. "...Where's that tall man gone, anyway?"

"Sasha?" Oleander shrugged. "He's out on a mission."

"Oh?" Loboto eased himself up on his arms, grinning again. "You mean like the kind of missions you told me they liked to leave you behind on?"

Oleander's hands clenched around the edges of the chair.

"Isn't that the reason for your whole take-over-the-world scheme? Getting left out?"

He wasn't wrong. It hadn't been the entire reason, but it was... part of it. "We're getting it worked out," he said through grit teeth.

"Yes, by continuing to do the same thing to you as before!" Loboto cried, sitting up on the table. The action made his optics spin for a moment, but he shook himself. "Sounds like you've been tossed back to square one."

"I haven't been tossed anywhere."

"Anywhere other than aside!" Loboto swung out his arm. "Tossed aside like a used plastic cup!"

"Pipe down, Cal!" Oleander snapped, but the dentist only turned to swing his legs over the edge of the table, leaning forward.

"You know, if we were to, perhaps, sneak out of here and work together again, I could help you—"

Loboto was held in a telekinetic hand again before Oleander realized he'd even summoned it. He found himself in a psychic stance atop the desk chair, glaring at the dentist as he held him firmly in his telekinetic grip. Apparently it was a bit tighter than he'd intended, as Loboto was struggling now, eyes darting around frantically and mouth twisting, but Oleander didn't loosen his grip just yet.

He wanted to tell him no. He wanted to tell him he'd never consider an offer like that again, never even think of betraying everyone again.

But he'd be dowsed if the thought didn't cross his mind after Forsythe took his place on the mission.

It was that same feeling as before, when he'd put in requests for a mission assignment and be told no, that he'd be assigned camp duty again. When he'd be assured just how important camp duty was, how he was better suited for it. When he brought up other ideas, like the projects he'd brainstorm with Otto, or even the blueprints for the battle bot he'd drawn up to fight Maligula, and Forsythe turned him down.

In the back of his throat he could still taste the bitterness bubbling up, threatening to spill out all over again.

But it hadn't been that long ago that he'd been dragged back through his own mind, and they'd talked through all of this, talked through everything, and this wasn't really the answer, and he knew it wasn't, but he just wanted to help, he just wanted to be able to help again—

Slowly he became aware of a choking noise, and snapped back to reality to find Loboto still in his telekinetic grip, his face turning pale. "GEEZ!" Oleander cried, reeling back, remembering too late he was stupidly standing on a chair.

Oleander crashed backward the same moment he released Loboto, who dropped back down onto the table, gasping for air. "OKAY!" Loboto choked out. "Okay, you don't want to be partners! I get it!"

Groaning, Oleander pushed himself back up to his feet. "Yeah, uh, thanks for the offer, Cal, but no." When he looked back at Loboto, he was surprised to see the dentist wrapping his arms around himself and trembling. Embarrassed, he scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, didn't mean to grab you that hard."

"I'm sure!" Loboto glared down at him. "Well, it's no loss for me. I wouldn't want to work with a sneaky psychic short stack like you again, anyway!"

Oleander glared back. "Now hang on, just 'cuz you're so freakishly tall doesn't mean—"

"Silly small simpletons ceaselessly see to stupid schemes!" he went on in a sing-song voice.

Oleander dragged his hands down his face. Why had he let this guy wake up? "Knock it off," he muttered.

In response, Loboto flicked the greasy hamburger box across the room to smack into his face.

With a cry of revulsion, Oleander wiped at his face and shot another look at Loboto. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"Oops, sorry." Loboto chucked the empty water bottle instead, which bounced harmlessly off Oleander's helmet.

He gave the dentist a deadpan look. "...I can see why Sasha had such a hard time finding anyone else to watch you." Sighing, he climbed back onto the chair.

"It's no surprise! I'm quite the intimidating person." Which wasn't a lie, but Loboto looked less intimidating as he kicked his feet, the heels of his freakishly long legs scraping the ground. It was a far cry from how he'd appeared at Thorney Towers, or how he must have looked to Raz when he—

Oleander paused. "...Hey, didn't that kid poke around your head?"

Immediately Loboto whipped his arms over his head, pressing his shower cap down. "No more of that," he growled. "You should be next, though, since you apparently forgot you were one of the ones who charged into my mind too!"

"No, I mean back at the Rhombus. I gave him the Psycho-Portal to use." He narrowed his eyes at Loboto, looking him over. "He dove into your mind, and we lost contact. What-all happened in there?"

"No!" Loboto snapped, drawing his legs back up onto the table as he tugged on his shower cap. "It's none of your business!"

"Hate to tell you, Cal,"—he didn't—"but it's official Psychonauts business."

"Ah!" Loboto slammed his hand and prosthetic down onto the table again, giving him a sly grin. "But you're not one of those at the moment, are you?"

"Wh—I never said that!" Oleander clenched his fists. "Where do you get that from?"

"Mmmmaybe the fact that you were left out of an official Psychonauts mission!" He casually dug between his teeth with one of his claws. "Just a hunch."

Oleander ground his teeth, finding himself wondering if it was too late to find someone else he could switch with. Yes, he was technically supposed to be evaluated before getting put on probation for a while, but that wasn't anything this bozo needed to hear about.

Dislodging a sesame seed from between two teeth, Loboto flicked it away and then gently tugged at his lip in thought. "Funny how they'd let a traitor like you back into their fold. But I suppose you can't fault psychics for acting erratically." His mouth twitched.

The word traitor hit him in the gut harder than the dismissal of psychics, and he found himself looking away. "Look, what happened with me ain't none of your business, Cal."

"What happened with me is none of your business, either, but you psychics have this funny misconception that everything is!"

"Maybe not." Oleander rubbed a knuckle against his chin in thought. "But I can't help but notice... you did let us go."

Loboto gave a jolt, his smile strained. "Of course! I can do whatever I want!"

Oleander raised an eyebrow at him. "So you let us go and blow up your own base? Sounds a bit counter to your plans."

"No! It's not!" He wrapped his arms around his chest, his mechanical eyes twitching every which way. "It followed my exact plan very specifically!"

"Really? Your plan for your employer who's working against the Psychonauts?" Oleander asked.

Loboto made a strangled sound, sitting up rigid, his mouth a tight line.

Sitting up, Oleander found himself grinning. Maybe this won't be such a waste of time after all... "Pretty nice of you to let us in on the details of your employer's scheme."

"No! No! I didn't!" Loboto cried, voice suddenly hoarse.

"Sure you didn't," Oleander went on, tapping his helmet. "Just like I don't have a memory vault of what you just said right in my noggin."

"NO! That wasn't it!" Loboto cried desperately. "I didn't say anything about their plan!"

"Sorry, Cal, but that was your own slip-up, there." He placed a hand to his temple to send a message to Sasha. "I'm sure Sasha'll be happy to know—"

"NO! DON'T!" Loboto jumped to his feet, preparing to step toward Oleander, only for his legs to give out on him again. He crashed to his knees, holding his head in his hands and trembling. "It was my idea! Not my client's! It had nothing to do with it! Don't let my client think I said anything, they'll have me drowned...!"

Wincing, Oleander leaned away from the dentist. Part of him almost felt bad for the guy—it would've taken something truly terrifying to scare Loboto like this. "Okay, okay, geez." Gently he TK'd him back onto the table. "Fine, so it wasn't your client's plan. But that just means you let us go on your own."

"Yes! Yes, I did!" he said, nodding vigorously as he began to calm down. "All my idea. Part of a plan beyond your feeble-minded comprehension!" He let out a laugh, sounding slightly unhinged.

"Did your plan also involve you getting captured?"

Loboto grunted. "No. That was part of you psychics ruining everything for me!"

Oleander sighed. "Yeah, sure." Drumming his fingers against the side of the chair, he looked away. "...You don't feel any different, though?"

"I feel a lot worse after what that oversized German celery stalk did to me."

"No." He looked back at Loboto, staring him in his weird robotic eyes. "I mean... after that kid entered your mind."

Whipping his arms around his chest again, Loboto turned his optics away. "I told you, that's not any of your business."

"...All right, fine."

An uncomfortable silence hung between them, only broken by the chirping of computers and the scratching of Loboto's claws against the table's padding.

"I take it he dove into your brains too?"

Startled, Oleander gave a jolt. "Wait, how do you know...?"

"You just told me." Loboto's grin grew a fraction wider, and Oleander groaned internally. "You also seem a bit less keen on the whole taking-over-the-world thing."

"...Yeah." He scratched the back of his head. "I am."

"That's a shame. You were more fun that way."

"I don't care what's fun for you!" Oleander snapped, wishing very much that he would stop remembering how fun it had been to make those tanks, and how fun building stuff was in general, and how Hollis wouldn't fund any of it—

"Ah, so the Psychonauts don't allow any sort of fun." Loboto's optics swirled to take in the room. "What a surprise!"

"I never said that," Oleander grumbled. "Going on missions is fun."

"Which you're not allowed to do!"

"Not right now I'm not. But later."

Loboto tapped his claws against the padding on the table again. "Hmm... I've got a mission for you."

Oleander resisted the urge to run a hand down his face. "I don't think you got the authority to issue those." He leaned his head on his hand, realizing he was bored enough to wonder what on earth Loboto was planning to offer him. "What is it?" he asked, and before Loboto could answer, he added, "No taking-over-the-world business!"

Loboto's face scrunched up in an approximation of a frown. "I wasn't gonna say that! Have a little more faith in me, General!"

"Yep. Sure have reason to do that."

With a grunt, Loboto glanced away. "Take me to the facilities, would you?"

"Which facility?" Oleander raised an eyebrow. "I mean, you're stuck here, but now I'm wonderin' what kinda base you think you could get transf—"

"The facilities, you numbskull!" Loboto snapped.

"Wuh—oh." Oleander rubbed his hand over his face. "You didn't have to word it so dramatically. Some mission..." Shaking his head, he stepped closer to the table. "If you're not good to walk, I'm carrying you."

"No thank you." Slowly Loboto eased himself off the table and onto his feet. "Keep your silly psychic mitts away from me." He was a little unsteady, but not in danger of falling flat on his face like he had earlier.

Well, he'd have to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't collapse on the way there, but he'd deal with it. "Lucky for you the closest one isn't far off. C'mon, forward march." Waving a hand, he headed toward the doors, and glanced back to make sure Loboto was following. While he was struggling to walk in a straight line, he was walking, so that was good enough for him.

They made it out of the lab and into the hallway, which was clear for the time being. Between some of the other employee offices and the aquarium were the nearest restrooms. "There's an aquarium a bit further down—sure you've seen it when Sasha was hauling you out here," Oleander remarked. He stopped in front of the doorway marked "Restrooms," where three doors (men, women, and family) stood beyond. "Maybe I'll let you take a look at it if you decide to behave and don't—"

Oleander glanced over his shoulder, only to do a double-take and spin completely around. Loboto was nowhere in sight.

"...run off on me."

Okay, he should've seen that one coming. With a growl, he charged further down the hallway, though inwardly his heart pounded at the thought that Loboto really could get away. That would be the end of being in the Psychonauts for him. Fortunately, it didn't take long to find the nine-foot-tall dentist prancing toward the atrium like a lame antelope. One swipe of a TK hand was all it took to snag him, and he let out an enraged squawk.

"Let me go!" Loboto howled, squirming and kicking against the restraints.

"Not on your life," Oleander growled, and hauled him back toward Sasha's lab. "You wouldn't have made it far anyway."

"You don't understand—!" Loboto wailed. "I can't stay here!"

"Wanna bet?" They were back in the lab, now, and Oleander made his way toward the center of the room.

"But when the green man comes back, he's going to keep prodding at my brain until—!"

"Yeah." Oleander plopped him back down onto the table. "That's his job." But looking at Loboto, he found him hunched up again and shivering. Annoying as it was to watch him, he couldn't help feeling a little bad for the guy. "...Look."

Loboto looked up, his arms wrapped around himself, and he looked... almost pitifully scared.

"I get it—you're scared of what's gonna happen." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm... a little scared too, I gotta admit. We both messed up in different ways. But... eh." He rubbed his chin, looking off to the side. "The Psychonauts, as much as I had my issues with them in the past—" (he ignored Loboto's comment of "that was a week ago") "—they're good people. And they really do want to help folks, including people who mess up. Especially people who mess up." Looking back, he found Loboto had calmed somewhat, and was tilting his head at him. "They won't let anything bad happen to ya. So the sooner you're able to tell us what you know, the better."

Loboto's optics turned down to look at the floor, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "...Well," he began, and slowly his eyes turned up to meet Oleander's gaze again. "I suppose I... could tell you something."

Oleander perked up. "Yeah! I mean—of course, you can trust me."

"...Right." He glanced away again. He'd grown incredibly calm, and Oleander was pleased to see he'd finally won his trust. "Of course, this is strictly off the record."

"Of course!"

Loboto looked one way, then another, then leaned in toward Oleander, who struggled to hide his giddiness at the thought that he had learned something before—

"That green fellow is suspicious."

Oleander reeled back. "What? Sasha?!" He frowned, crossing his arms. "You're pullin' my leg!"

"Never!" Loboto exclaimed, placing a hand on his chest. "Are you saying you don't believe me? A-after I've risked so much to tell you this...?"

"Well no, it's just... Sasha?"

"Think about it! I mean, when have you ever heard an accent like that?"

Oleander held up a finger, only to pause. "Well, I uh..."

"Exactly." Loboto gave a smug grin.

"Well... when you put it that way..." Oleander rubbed his chin. "Y'know it is pretty funny how he denied the whole 'necromancy' thing..."

Immediately the dentist went back to fidgeting anxiously. "D-don't tell him I told you anything!"

"It's fine! Your intel's safe with me. Though this makes things a heck of a lot more complicated."

"Well, that's how it is." Loboto frowned, kicking his feet.

It certainly hurt to think about, too, given how Sasha had helped him just a few days ago. How could he betray the Psychonauts like that?

Hearing the door slide open behind him, he jumped and spun around to find Sasha striding into the room.

"Thank you for your help, Morry, but I must be alone in my lab immediately." Nein said hurriedly, striding over to the brain tumbler.

Strange. What was he in such a hurry for...?

"Well," Loboto began, preparing to slide off the table, "I suppose I'll get out of your hair—"

"You stay here." He TK-nudged Loboto back onto the table, then paused, seeming to consider that Loboto was now awake, and turned to Oleander. I was not expecting him to be awake, he said over telepathy. Have you learned anything... noteworthy from him?

Oleander looked from Sasha, to Loboto (who stared at him worriedly), and back, before shaking his head. No, haven't gotten a word from him about anything relevant.

As I suspected. Sighing, Sasha turned back toward the brain tumbler. "Well, thank you again for your help, but I must get back to work."

"Right. Uh. Good luck with that guy. You're gonna need it." Frowning, Oleander turned away, finally heading out of the lab. Mission accomplished, he supposed.

...Though after what he'd just learned, he had another mission he'd have to give himself. After stepping into his supply-closet-turned-office, he pulled out some blue paper, and began drafting his machine.

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo was more than ready to propose to you. For you to be his pretty little wife. For you to take his last name. To see you walk down the aisle in a white dress. He has spent weeks picking out a ring for you. Weeks finding the perfect place to propose. Weeks just for this moment. He knows you'll say yes.

Today was the day he would propose. He had everything all set up and ready. The ring box is in his pocket. He just needs to come home to you and get you ready for the date. He had long made a promise to himself. He'll make you happy because you are the world to him.

He then felt a vibration in his pocket from his phone, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. He opened his phone to see that Shoko had called him. He accepted the call and was about to ask Shoko what she needed before she interrupted him.

"Satoru."

Satoru immediately freezes. Shoko had never called him by his first name. It was always Gojo.

"Come to my office," was the only thing Shoko said before ending the call. Her voice was shaking.

Dread filled Satoru's body. A chill was sent down his spine. Something was wrong, so he immediately teleported to Shoko's office. He was greeted with the sight of Shoko, his students, and you. The students' eyes red from crying. Shoko is unable to look him in the eyes. You covered in blood. Your curse energy completely diminished. Your lifeless body is on the table.

Oh. Oh.

"I'm sorry, sensei! It's all my fault!" Yuji apologies as he cries.

"She saved us." Nobara whispered as she continued to wipe her endless tears.

"We let our guard down." Megumi looks down. He was holding in his pain. "It's my fault. I was careless. They were wrong about–"

Satoru doesn't register the rest of Megumi's word. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurring. A void in replacement of his heart. The ring in his pocket felt a lot heavier. He stares at your body before closing his eyes. He then turned toward his students with a smile.

"Hey, hey! It's alright, guys. It's not your fault. It was an accident! Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault at all. How about you guys take the next few days to relax! I'm sure this was very traumatic for you to lose a teacher in front of your eyes!"

"Gojo–" Megumi started, but he was pushed out the door with his friends before he could utter another word.

"Here, take my card and buy some stuff to help you take your mind off this, yeah? You guys need rest!" Satoru says as he closes the door. He's glad that he has his blindfold on so the students couldn't see the grief and pain in his eyes. He waited until he could no longer sense their curse energy before turning around towards you and Shoko.

"Shoko. Can you leave too? Just for a bit?" He asked. No. He pleaded. His voice was no higher than a whisper. He can't cry yet. Not in front of anyone but you. He's the strongest.

Shoko nodded and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry, Satoru. I tried to save her. I know today was suppose–" Shoko stopped before she finished the sentence. She bit the bottom of her lips before apologizing once more and then left.

Now, Satoru was left alone in the room with your lifeless body. He took off his blindfold and walked up to you. He held your once warm hand in his. He caressed your cheek as the tears that he was holding back finally fall down his face. He was going to propose to you today. You were supposed to be his wife. You were supposed to be with him until the day he died. But now... he would no longer see you. Your smile. Your laugh. You would no longer be smiling at him. In his arms. In his embrace. He wouldn't get to see your beautiful eyes open. Your voice. He wouldn't be able to hear your love for him. He won't be able to hear your "I love you, Satoru." You would no longer call his name. Oh, how he loved his name coming from your lips. It was supposed to be one of his happiest days. If he could only go back to yesterday. Where you were still in his arms, the two of you whispering your love to one another. Kisses being exchanged. Where you were still warm and alive. Where he can still stretch out his hand and reach you.

Fate loves taunting him with his loved ones. It loves to ruin him. To tear him apart. To rip his heart out and shred it to pieces because he's the strongest. So he'll always fail to protect the ones he loves. Fate is laughing at him because he is a joke. Fate is celebrating his grief. He has losted and fate has won again.

He doesn't know how much time has passed. Him next to your lifeless body, praying that you would just wake up. He wants to join you. Join you in the afterlife. To see you. To be with you. But he can't. He knows you'll never forgive him if he did. He still has his students to look after. A world to save. A revenge to sought after. He wiped his tears away because you would hate seeing him cry. He kissed you gently for the last time and whispered his eternal love towards you and a "I'll see you soon."

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Your ring. He slipped it onto your ring finger and asked– "Will you marry me?"

A yes forever unspoken.

[makoodles]

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

[oikasugayama]

HOW HE F--KS YOU

pt. 1 Dazai, Ranpo, Ango | pt. 2 Chuuya, Kunikida, Tachihara | pt. 3 Poe, Atsushi, Fukuzawa

Complete smutty filth. MDNI. several anatomies but no genders mentioned!!

Dazai

He fucks you possessively.

Whether you're only hooking up or in a relationship, he's making sure you know he's in charge. He's the one giving you pleasure. He's gonna mark you up with hickeys and bruises and make you sore and tired so you remember him later and others might notice where he's been touching you.

He'll definitely say something like "whose pussy/ass is this?" while fucking you hard, holding you down or pressing your body into the mattress. He'll keep asking and keep making you say "it's yours Dazai, this is your pussy" until he's satisfied you not only know it but you believe it. You are his plaything and you're going to know that.

As much as he acts like a brat to piss off his friends, in the bedroom he's a brat tamer. The more whiny and squirmy you are, the more he feels like he has to pin you down and teach you to behave. If you tell him no (in a safe way, of course), say you don't want to, or try to deny him what he wants (still within the confines of your previous consenting arrangements!!), he has to punish you. It's just how it works. His voice gets low and serious when he's pissed, but it makes you even hornier because you know the best fucks you've ever gotten from him are when he's taming you.

He's not opposed to fucking you in public if he feels like you need it, or if he needs to mark his territory. Once you were out together and another man dared to hit on you and touch you while Dazai was right there. Instead of getting mad at the man, Dazai invited him to sit with the two of you. The man only left when he eventually realized that as soon as you sat down Dazai started feeling you up and fingering/stroking you under the table.

Ranpo

He fucks you lazily.

His favorite position involves both of you on your sides, your back to his chest, and his dick inside you. He likes when you squirm back onto him, he likes thrusting lazily into you, he likes playing with your nipples from behind you, he likes nibbling on your shoulder/neck and saying filthy things in your ear.

Sex can last for hours on your laziest days. Every time he feels an orgasm build, he stops moving, just cockwarms in you for a while, and eventually you start squirming or he gets impatient and thrusts again.

Ranpo is also fond of face-sitting. You sitting on his face, of course. He doesn't much care to have his ass eaten, (though he does let you if you ask) but he eats you out like a champ. Maybe it's all the experience he has licking on lollipops and sucking sugar off his fingers, but who's to say. Regardless, his tongue is vicious and unrelenting and when he gets his fingers involved he can get you to cum on his face in less than 3 minutes.

When he gets you super overstimulated he knows you'll squirt for him. That's his favorite time to get you on his face, because he wants you to squirt on him. He wants to lap it up and gulp it down. He's a cum eater for sure and he doesn't care what other fluids are in the squirt-- he wants to drink it.

Ango

He fucks you guiltily.

He loves you. You are not allowed to know that. He told himself that he could only mess around with you if he kept you at an arm's length. It's for your own good, really. For your protection. He's too wanted. Too hated. Anyone dear to him will be taken away. It's better that no one knows how he really feels about you, not even you.

But he can't stop himself from seeing you. It's so easy to walk by your office and stand in the doorway. So easy to close the door behind him when you invite him in. So easy to fall to his knees in front of you and kiss up your thighs as you spread them. He eats you out like he's worshiping you. His tongue may move slowly, but he has a pattern he follows-- a flick here, a suckle there-- and it always gets you to cum.

He won't ever stop unless he's sure you've orgasmed. When you sneak into his apartment, or he sneaks into yours, he'll suck till his jaw is sore or thrust until his thighs are quaking. He'll cramp and hurt and exhaust himself but he will not stop until you're satisfied. After all, it's his only time with you. He's happy for it to last a long time.

His favorite position is missionary because he likes to look at you, right there in front of him, the person of his dreams. Your face twists up so cutely. The hot breath you expel when you moan sends shivers down his spine. He likes every hair, lump, bump, scar, jiggle that your body has to offer. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed with how much he wants needs you that he has to hide his face against your neck and fight back tears while he keeps rutting into you, hoping you don't notice anything's wrong.

[greyskyflowers]

I'm just such a big fan of Edwin having some permanent issues after a second trip to hell and the final run in with Esther.

I like the idea that he actually has to sleep now. Nowhere near what a living human needs but more then he ever needed before. Maybe sleeping for several hours every few weeks.

Iron wounds take longer to heal, even though Edwin has always had a higher pain tolerance due to his experiences in hell.

When he's really tired, things start to hurt. Tender pain along all his joints, the spots where the demon spider found it was the easiest to tear him apart.

He get bruises under his eyes, headaches, occasionally a little chill, stiffness, and just a general aching all over his body.

It's hard for Edwin to sleep, for several reasons. Nightmares, anxiety, restlessness, and just being stubborn.

The vulnerability of sleep is terrifying.

The idea of leaving Edwin alone somewhere to sleep, even in their office, has Charles skin pickling. Especially knowing Edwin is also reluctant to sleep without him there.

So, Edwin does not sleep alone. Ever. Occasionally he gets left with Niko, and sometimes Crystal, but it's for very brief amounts of time before he's back with Charles.

It should be embarrassing to have these issues now, and it is, but they're even closer after Port Townsend and it's not something Edwin can avoid. He has to sleep now.

Really, it comes down to does he wants to keep it to himself and nap when no one else is around to avoid feeling weak? Or does he want to sleep with the comfort of knowing someone is with him and hell won't take him before he even gets a chance to wake up?

It comes down to how fearful is he of something dragging him off into hell again and the answer is apparently incredibly so.

Also, if he's going to look vulnerable and weak then it might as well be with Charles, who's seen him at his worst.

He tries not to overthink how pleased Charles is each time Edwin seeks him out for a nap or how good it feels to be held, the safest place he can think of is in Charles arms or under his sharp watch.

Charles hovers, and he's aware of it. He can't convince himself to stray too far from Edwin. Part of it's because he's protective, reluctant to leave Edwin in anyone else's hands when he's more vulnerable then before.

Part of it is selfish, he's a little possessive. A sleeping Edwin is not something anyone else needs to see. Edwin in pain is not something anyone else needs to see.

Crystal had recently demanded they have a bed available in the office for when her and Niko stayed over, even though they rarely use it. It's soft, covered in pillows and blankets, and Edwin has taken to hiding away in it when he sleeps. Crystal looks incredibly pleased when it slips that Edwin uses it and Charles is hit with a intense wave of fondness for her.

No one needs to see Edwin like this. Especially not when he loses a lot of his layers and curls up in something more comfortable. It leaves him vulnerable, his throat and wrists bare, and looking smaller without all extra clothing.

Nobody needs to see how he only really lets himself sleep when Charles is in bed with him or close enough in the room to reach out for if needed. He watches Charles do whatever it is he's doing with half lidded eyes, a strip of green that stubbornly stays visible until Charles is closer.

In the beginning they thought it was something temporary. Ghost don't need to sleep, Charles never sleeps. Sometimes he can get himself to relax enough that it's almost like sleeping but it's not anywhere near actual sleep.

They think it's just him trying to make up what Esther took.

But it keeps happening. Again and again.

And it makes them both anxious. Charles is worried about why Edwin suddenly needs to sleep but Edwin is worried about the actual sleeping part.

He does not want to sleep. Sleep means dreaming and nothing good will come from his dreams, he's sure of it.

It's also scary. Sleep is a weakness, it leaves him vulnerable and unaware. He doesn't want to sleep.

In those first few weeks where they all still thought this would pass, exhaustion caught up to him one evening as they were finishing up a long case. Charles was out and he couldn't even think about how wonderful it would be to go to go lay down because Charles was not there.

The office was too quiet. It made him restless and he would have paced but he was feeling especially sore that day. His hands had ached while he was writing and he had to stop frequently to flex them.

He was weak, alone, and rapidly sliding into a decreased mental awareness due to exhaustion. It's not a situation he liked.

They weren't apart for long those days, and still aren't, so Charles is back pretty quickly but it's long enough that Edwin was struggling. He blinked sleepily at Charles, with eyes that itched when they shouldn't have, and he must have looked terrible because Charles straightened up a little bit and his eyes jumped around the room before he relaxed.

He said something, dropped his bag and walked forward until he could put his hands on Edwin and that's it. Edwin leaned forward until he was relying on Charles to hold him up, turned his face into his neck and passed out still standing up.

It doesn't get that bad again. Charles is good about noticing when Edwin starts to slow down, and when it takes him a little longer to string his words together or explain himself. He picks up the way he carries himself different on day where things hurt a little more or how he rubs his temple when he feels a headache coming on.

He herds Edwin to bed like a sheep dog and makes sure everything is locked up so they won't be bothered. Edwin had managed to find a spell that would keep anyone else, living and none, out of their office when activated. It's perfect for extra privacy and security.

Charles hates that Edwin was hurt enough that he needs this now, and he hates seeing him wore down and exhausted... but part of him loves these days.

Edwin sleepy and soft, usually pulling Charles down with him until they're under all the blankets and pillows, tucked on their own little world.

He clings when he sleeps. He buries his face in Charles throat and under his chin like he's trying to hide, presses in as close as he can until they're completely tangled together. Not that Charles has any problem with that. He runs his fingers over skin in soothing gestures and pulls him in close if he starts to show any signs of a nightmare.

He wakes up with hair sticking up and clothes rumpled, blinking at Charles a few times as he tries to wake up enough to remember what's happening. Sometimes, Charles gets lucky and Edwin will stretch out like a cat before readjusting himself to be close again and doze off for a little longer.

It knocks the breath he doesn't need out of his lungs and love sits in his throat until it threatens to choke him.

Sometimes there are nightmares and Edwin shoves himself away desperately with a pained and fearful noise that has Charles cringing. Edwin stares at him from the other side of the bed, eyes big but unfocused in a way that shows he's not actually seeing Charles. He's tight, tense and completely locked up. He couldn't move even if he wanted to. They're both still laying down, and Charles doesn't move even though he wants to. He starts talking, low and soft, keeps doing that until Edwin starts to relax again. It's a slow process and it takes a while before Edwin is relaxed enough that Charles can reach out and coax him back closer. He's exhausted after those little episodes, too tired and his body too sore from being so tense to put up much of a fight as Charles tucks him in close again. Sometimes he's asleep before they're even settled back in, limp with sleep as Charles rearranges him in a way that won't have him aching when he wakes up.

Sometimes Charles is too wired to lay down, even if cuddling is great motivation, and he keeps himself busy while Edwin rests. Sometimes they're in the middle of a case and there's still work that needs to be done, so he does what can while until Edwin is back up and functional.

It's a powerful feeling, having Edwin trust him so much and so openly. Sometimes Charles has to check on him, the quiet and unmoving lump on the bed making him nervous until he looks him over, just to make sure everything is okay. It's hard to tell sometimes since they don't breathe like the living, and Edwin sleeps so quiet. He doesn't even flinch at Charles getting close, nothing triggering those survival instincts gained in hell that would have him awake and moving if it was anyone else this close.

God help anyone stupid enough to try something when they're like this. He'd fight anyone who disturbed them, anyone who woke Edwin up from his much needed rest or threaten to cause them harm. It burns under his skin and it makes his teeth itch.

Nothing would separate them. Nothing could take them away from each other.

[xomakara]

Birthday Cake

SUMMARY |  It's Mark's birthday and you have a very special surprise for him. PAIRINGS | Mark x Reader GENRE/CONTENT/WARNINGS |  non-idol!Mark, non-idol!Reader, established relationship, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (both male/female receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, food play, messy cake sex?? RATING | Mature, NSFW, 18+ LENGTH |  4093 words TAGLIST | -- NETWORKS |  @k-vanity AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Firstly, I apologize if it sounds rushed and probably not one of my best works. I literally wrote this in like 3 hours lol. I still hope you all like this though lol. Secondly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARK. We all love you 💚

NCT Main Masterlist

Mark Lee always considered himself a lucky man as he was surrounded by friends and loved ones who gathered for this dinner party for his birthday. Smiling from his seat, his hand was placed on your thigh, softly caressing. His eyes wandered over to yours. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

You smiled and nodded. "Why wouldn't I be okay? My man's birthday is today."

"Good. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way."

"Thank you." You leaned in to kiss him. "And you look so handsome today."

"We get it. You both love each other." Johnny rolled his eyes jokingly. "Can we start the celebration already?"

You pulled back, a smile still on your lips. "Yeah. Let's celebrate."

Mark had planned a quiet and private party with the closest people in his life. As the night progressed, it turned into a rowdy one. Johnny and Yuta were playing a drinking game while Jungwoo, Jeno, Jaehyun, and Hendery were cheering them on. Ten was in the kitchen, preparing another batch of food with Doyoung. Taeyong was nowhere to be found, but he might've left with Kun since neither of them was here.

You and Mark watched them. You were sitting in his lap while his arms were around your waist.

"Having fun?" he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck.

"I am." You turned to him, arms around his neck. "Is the birthday boy having fun? Did he get all his presents?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I did. Although I'm still waiting for the best present."

"Oh really? What would that be?"

Mark looked into your eyes. "The most beautiful girl in the world."

"And who would that be?"

"It's you." He gave you a soft kiss on the lips.

"You're so cheesy." You giggled.

"You love it."

"Yeah, I do."

You were about to kiss him again until Johnny interrupted. "Hey, you two lovebirds! We're going to sing Happy Birthday now. Stop being gross and pay attention."

"We weren't doing anything." You called out, Mark laughing.

Johnny raised a brow at you, clearly not buying it. "Uh huh, sure. Get your horny asses over here."

Mark stood up with you in his arms, placing you on your feet before standing beside you.

"Okay, guys, gather around!" Yuta called out, waving the cake in his hands. "One... two..."

Everyone sang, their eyes glued on Mark. You looked over at him, a fond smile on your lips. He turned to look at you, his heart fluttering as your gaze met. After the song ended, he blew the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered. You went back to your seat beside Mark and held his hand. "So, what did you wish for?"

He shrugged. "It's a secret."

"You know I won't tell anyone."

"But you'd find out sooner or later."

"That's true."

Mark squeezed your hand. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"

"But your friends—"

"They'll understand. I just want to be with you tonight."

"Okay." You nodded, a smile still on your lips.

Doyoung looked up from where he was standing. "You two better be responsible!"

You turned to him. "Don't worry. We're just going to hang out."

"Uh-huh, sure." Ten rolled his eyes.

"We're just going to hang out!"

Ten smirked, his eyes moving between you and Mark. "Dressed like that? I doubt it. Don't forget to use protection."

Your face heated up at his words. Mark only chuckled. "We're leaving."

"Take care, you two." Doyoung waved, watching you both leave.

As soon as the door closed, you took off your heels, sighing in relief. It was nice to feel the ground beneath your feet again.

"You could've worn comfortable shoes," Mark said.

"I wanted to look pretty for you."

"Baby, you always look pretty to me."

You smiled at his words, heart racing in your chest.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. "Where do you wanna go?"

"My place? I got you a gift. And it's more of a private one."

"Okay, let's go."

You got a cab and went to your place. You fished your keys from your purse and opened the door, inviting Mark inside.

"Stay here, Mark." You said. "I'll be right back."

He nodded and went to the couch. Meanwhile, you went to your room and looked through your drawers, trying to find that sexy, crotchless lingerie you bought for special occasions. Mark didn't know that you own one. Hell, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Finally, you found it and you quickly changed, looking at yourself in the mirror. After putting on the lingerie, you fixed your hair and you threw your clothes back on so that he could unwrap you when you got to the bedroom.

You came back and smiled at him. "Do you have the present?" he asked.

"It's not a tangible gift."

He frowned. "Then what is it?"

You moved closer to him and sat in his lap. "It's a surprise."

Mark wrapped his arms around you. "Will I like it?"

"You will." You gave him a soft kiss.

His hands wandered to your waist. "Can I open it now?"

"Not yet." You laughed as you got off his lap and made your way to the kitchen. "Wait for me. I'll make it worth your while."

"You always do."

You came back with the cake and a candle. Mark was already waiting on the couch, smiling when he saw the cake in your hands. "Baby, we already blew the candles earlier with the guys."

"But that’s with the guys. Right now, it’s me.”

"Wow, baby, you're so thoughtful."

"Anything for the birthday boy."

Mark looked up at you, eyes twinkling. "Can I blow out the candles now?"

"Of course." You nodded. "Make a wish."

He blew the candles, the light from the flames flickering as it went out. At the same time, you were on your knees in front of him, your hand already massaging his growing bulge.

"I hope it's coming true," you said, looking up at him.

"It is." He nodded, leaning back against the couch. "It sure is."

Your hand rubbed the bulge, slowly unzipping his pants and taking his dick out. He was already hard.

"Already excited?" you asked, kissing the tip.

"It's my birthday. I should be excited."

You took him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. He placed his hand on the back of your head, gently encouraging you to continue.

"Fuck, baby," he moaned, his voice low.

You continued sucking, licking the underside and the tip, and swirling your tongue around. He was moaning loudly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Your hands were gripping the base of his shaft, jerking him off as your mouth worked him.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Keep going."

He groaned your name as his grip tightened, pulling your hair. "Your mouth feels so good. So fucking amazing."

You felt his cum coating your tongue. You kept sucking until the very last drop. After that, you let him rest in your mouth, the sweet taste lingering. He looked down, a little surprised that his dick was still hard. You let him go, and it slipped out of your mouth. 

You sat up, wiping the corners of your lips. "Didn't you like your gift?"

Mark smiled, pulling you towards him so that you were seated on his lap again. "I did, very much."

"Well, that was part one."

"What's part two?"

"Take off my clothes and see."

Mark obliged and removed your shirt, revealing the lace covering your breasts. "Oh? What else are you hiding? Wait... are you...?"

You smirked, your fingers fiddling with the hem of the tulle skirt. You raised it to reveal your dripping cunt in the panties that barely covered anything. "Part two, crotchless panties.”

His eyes widened at the sight, his hands automatically wandering to the bare skin of your legs. He stroked the insides, squeezing. Your thighs were a weak point for him, something that he used against you whenever he wanted something from you.

"Wait," he stopped. "Let's just go to your room. I wanna ravish you properly."

"Oh?" you raised a brow.

"It is part of my gift, right?"

"Part of it," you nodded.

"Okay." He looked up, gazing into your eyes. "Gimme more."

"Okay, birthday boy. Whatever you want." You giggled, playfully smirking. He carried you and rushed to your room. Laughter escaped your lips as Mark tossed you onto the bed. "Someone's eager to open their gift, isn't he?"

He looked you over hungrily, biting his bottom lip as his eyes fell to your breasts. "Because she looks so fucking hot."

You pressed your back against the headboard and spread your legs, offering yourself. Mark climbed into bed with you, kneeling on the mattress.

"Take what you want, Mark," you seductively told him.

His eyes darkened. He licked his lips and leaned towards you, capturing yours. He devoured your mouth, groaning as you opened up for him, letting him push his tongue past your lips.

After a few seconds of kissing, he pulled away and looked at you. "Hands on the headboard."

You did as told and reached behind you, latching on to the edge of the headboard, spreading your knees wide. Mark started trailing his lips and teeth across your neck. You shivered at the sensation, especially as his lips went lower and lower.

Mark squeezed your nipples between his fingers as he licked and kissed your skin. You gasped in surprise as he captured your right nipple between his teeth and tugged it. Your grip tightened and you whimpered, arching your back as he rolled the hardened nub between his teeth.

He then licked a trail downwards, placing open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and between your breasts. When his tongue flicked over one nipple, you gasped, arching your back off the headboard and pushing your breasts into his mouth.

"Did you like that, baby girl?" he asked. His voice was muffled as his mouth was otherwise occupied.

"Yes, please."

"Okay, since you're enjoying this, I'll do more of it. But after I fuck that tight little pussy of yours."

"Thank you," you panted, feeling his tongue flicking your other nipple.

"God, you're so sexy."

Your eyes followed his head as he continued his way down your stomach, biting your lip as he licked all over the lace fabric. You'd bought it in dark blue because Mark complimented you in that shade of color before. It seemed he appreciated the gesture since he was practically worshipping your body in that outfit.

"Shit," you whispered, panting.

He hummed, sending a vibration down your core. Your back was arched, hands desperately gripping the wood behind your back, thighs trembling on each side of your lover's face.

"I bet you'd look so hot with cake frosting all over your tits," he spoke up, licking a line across your folds.

Your legs shook at his words, a soft moan escaping your lips. You felt him smirk against your core, clearly pleased with the reaction you gave him. "There is cake in the living room," you reminded him, your breathing was getting erratic.

Mark paused, eyes still focused between your legs. Then he looked at you with a smirk. "We'd have to change your sheets and shower afterwards."

"Worth it if it means you get to enjoy it on my body."

He growled as you wriggled underneath his gaze. The pressure of him being so close and yet so far away is driving you mad. You loved when Mark was gentle with you, but sometimes you also needed roughness.

"So, are you up for it or do you want to just fuck the shit out of me now?" you teased, leaning back against the pillows with a devilish smirk.

"Baby girl," he breathed, a predatory smile appearing on his face, "it'd be my fucking pleasure."

"Bring the fucking cake and decorate my body," you suggested, snarling playfully as you got rid of your bra and threw it somewhere.

He gave you a smug grin before he rushed out of the room and came back shortly with the cake in his hand, his finger dipping the frosting out. "Hmmm..." he purred, eyeing your body, "where do I start?"

"Wherever you want, birthday boy," you replied in a soft voice, almost a whisper.

A small mischievous grin appeared on his handsome face before he grabbed one breast and held your right nipple between two fingers as he applied the sugary substance over it. You squirm underneath his touch, goosebumps running along your skin as the chilling cream came into contact. He let go, looking pleased at the work he'd done before his eyes flicked to your face, checking to see if you were okay.

His voice sounded velvety as it reached your ears, "Do you want the other one to have the same amount, baby?"

"Mark," you gasped, swallowing down the lump of lust in your throat, "yeah, cover me with icing."

Mark's lips curled upward in satisfaction while his pupils dilated slightly from excitement, "Gladly, my love."

He grabbed another fistful and brought his hand down, starting his art, applying layer by layer in an attempt to replicate how beautiful his cake was. He then proceeded with applying frosting on your left breast while you moaned softly every time he touched the sensitive skin with the tip of his fingers. Once satisfied, he scooted closer and added final touches by using his tongue to give some details, making you squirm as it left a wet, sticky path across your chest. He blew on it, making you gasp for breath, your voice coming out as a mixture of whimpers and moans.

"This is fucking hot." Fingers still coated in icing, he brought them to your lips. "Suck," he demanded, watching with dark eyes as his fingers disappeared between your lips.

You obeyed and tasted the sweetness of the icing mixed with his masculine scent, feeling like you could come any moment, especially with the hungry look he gave you, eyes filled with lust and anticipation for the feast. 

"Good, huh? Want me to continue?" he asked.

A soft moan escaped you. You were eager to have his mouth on your cunt.

"Answer me, darling."

Your eyes widened and you let out a strangled cry, "Yes."

"Such a slutty little thing for me, baby. What would people think, hmm, seeing you like this? All covered in sugary mess for my enjoyment? To consume you whole."

Your breathing came short and fast. You couldn't see anything other than Mark's heated gaze as your pussy twitched underneath his touch, his voice deep in your ear, coaxing more noises from deep within your gut as he used his tongue to circle around your icing covered nipple. He licked down to your stomach, circling his tongue around it, painting a picture for your senses. You felt yourself becoming wetter each time he dipped his tongue into your navel, the heat growing in the pit of your stomach, flames licking up your spine, begging him to touch your most sensitive parts.

"I'm going to devour you, darling," his low tone sent shivers running through every nerve ending, "all of you."

Your toes curled. A shiver ran down your spine.

"Yes, yes, please," you pleaded, voice husky. You wanted him more than anything. Wanted to feel every inch of his thick, delicious length in your pussy, spreading your walls wide open and filling you.

The room was silent except for your shallow breaths and Mark's heavy ones, both anticipating the moment he'd thrust inside you. Finally, he inched forward, hovering above you as he ran his tongue over your nipple once more, swirling the tip in slow circles before taking it completely between his teeth and giving a soft bite. Your hand slipped over his shoulder, fingertips digging into his shoulder blade as you arched towards him.

"Please..." your voice trembled as you felt yourself clench and tighten under his grip, preparing itself for what was to come.

Mark smiled into your chest, the smile stretching across his face until it became a full-on grin. He pulled back and slid his body down between your legs, taking his time to take every inch of you in before settling there, propped up between your thighs. His hand glided over your stomach and down to your mound, fingers pressing softly as they traveled between your legs. His palm lingered on top of your heat, fingers rubbing gently at the swollen skin as you shivered and squirmed, a light sweat coating your upper lip.

"Fuck, baby," Mark moaned. "You're so wet."

His fingers traced circles, leaving the combination of cake icing and your wetness trailing down the side of your leg. He dragged his lips down and his tongue swept against the inside of your thigh, leaving a slick trail of cake icing and saliva along the length of it, then up.

"Mark, please." you begged, desperately wanting him to end this torture and finally slide his cock in you, making you writhe against the soft mattress. You felt a warmth building deep in your belly as he moved his mouth closer to your pussy.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he crooned softly into your ear. "Tell me exactly what you'd like me to do right now and maybe I'll give it to you."

"Ughh, please!" you cried as his thumb brushed against your clit, causing sparks to shoot across your body and setting every nerve ending aflame.

Mark let out a low chuckle, enjoying every bit of it. You bucked upwards again as he moved his finger in circular motions around your opening before slipping the tip in. "Tell me more, I'll hear you loud and clear," he urged, his voice thick with lust as he added more fingers into your slick entrance, pushing deeper inside as you hissed out your pleasure.

"Take me, Mark. Please! Make me yours." You screamed. "I want you inside me so badly. Want to feel every inch of your amazing, perfect cock buried deep in my wet cunt," your nails dug into the mattress beneath you.

"You ask so nicely, but remember who's birthday is this. Say it." he cooed, his breath tickling the sensitive skin near the shell of your ear. He nipped the lobe, then ran his lips down your neck as his thumb rubbed the aching bud on the hood of your clit, sending fireworks along your spine.

"Y-your birthday." You stammered. "Please take me for your birthday."

His fingers reached lower. One last stroke with the pad of his thumb against your clit and your body was a trembling mess, walls squeezing, pulling, sucking around the two fingers pumping in and out. You were whimpering and groaning, lost to everything other than the movement of his fingers and his intense gaze focused directly on you.

"Please!" you sobbed, your pussy spasming around Mark's fingers and hips grinding helplessly up and down.

Mark withdrew them with a satisfied smirk on his face, cock so hard you could barely stand it as he pressed a thumb to the corner of your mouth, pushing a mix of icing and your juices into your mouth, which you eagerly swallowed down greedily.

"Fuck, I knew you could handle it, but damn, baby girl," Mark groaned, dragging a single digit along your slit, collecting your slick, watching intently as it clung to his fingers and dropped to the bed below. "That was one of the hottest things you've ever said to me."

Mark smeared the mix of icing and your liquids down his erection. He didn't bother to hide the pleasure he felt at the sensation, nor how hard he had become simply by teasing you and making you scream for release. And it showed. 

"Ready?" he asked, the tip of his member already nudging your entrance.

"Yes." you gasped as your arousal began pooling. "Fuck me."

Mark didn't waste any time. Without a second thought, he pushed himself forward, sheathing his entire length inside your pussy in one smooth motion, moaning with satisfaction as his skin met yours. You arched up off the bed, the sweet smell of the cake still permeating your senses, mingling with Mark's scent, along with the unmistakable musk of sex.

Mark grabbed hold of your thighs, pushing them up, your legs on his shoulders. He pressed his head into the crook between your shoulder and neck and whispered to you, "Let's fill you up with my cake icing."

You moaned lowly, the sound almost inaudible over Mark's soft pants, as he slowly began rocking back and forth, the gentle movements turning into rougher strokes the longer he thrusts into you. It's not enough. Your body is tingling from the way he stretched your pussy out, and while it isn't the rough fucking you were hoping for, it's certainly an appetizer to the main event.

"Come on, Mark," you groaned, pressing down against him so that every thrust made him sink deeper and deeper, pushing you into the bed until his cock brushed up against that sweet spot deep inside of you. "Don't you want to take charge on your special day? Don't you want to show me who's in control here?"

Mark growled, the noise coming from the back of his throat sending vibrations down to where your skin met his. He pressed his lips together tightly as he struggled to retain his composure and composure be damned because now was his turn, time to show how good he could fuck when he was set to.

He didn't know if he could even wait to start but god help him if he didn't do something about how incredible his girlfriend looked right now, writhing beneath him, covered in icing and sex-messed hair stuck against her cheeks.

"Oh yeah, baby girl," Mark purred, lowering himself until his forehead pressed lightly against yours. "This is the best gift I could ever ask for." He nibbled lightly on your lower lip and whispered against it, "To have your pussy all nice and warm for me, letting me use you any way I like... I'm gonna wreck you, Y/N."

You moaned at the prospect and at how goddamn sexy he sounded when he was turned on.

"Make me cum," you rasped. "Use my pussy however you want and make me cum, please!"

"Your wish is my command." he grinned cheekily.

Mark's hips picked up pace, plunging harder and faster into you, filling you fully again and again.

You moaned as he slammed inside of you. Every time his pelvic bone struck yours was a sharp shock wave of pleasure flowing through you, making your brain swim. Your legs quivered at the contact; your heels dug into Mark's back and drew him forward, urging him to keep fucking you with that amazing dick.

You had never seen your boyfriend move this quickly before, the sound of his breathing and the loud groans you were hearing were all coming from inside your head. In and out. His thrusts were powerful. Hard and steady, almost machine-like as he buried his cock within you time after time.

And you loved every second of it.

Mark leaned forward, resting his weight on his palms, his face mere inches away from yours. His fingers tightened their grip in your hair before pulling you closer towards him and pressed his mouth onto yours. 

As Mark broke the kiss, his breath hitched, body shuddering, cock spasming inside of you. Hot bursts of liquid shot deep inside, coating your cunt and filling it to the brim with semen. You held onto him tightly as his entire frame trembled with orgasm, trying to not collapse on you. He struggled to breathe while keeping his hands firmly anchored on either side of your head, locking his elbows so that he wouldn't fall over. He never broke his eye contact.

Finally, when both your orgasms had waned and you could think straight again, you began speaking, your voice sounding strained as it came out in short huffs. "You liked it that much huh?"

"Shit," he gasped between breaths, nodding as sweat ran down his face, dripping onto your chest.

"But..." His tongue flicked over your neck, licking the side before whispering hotly into your ear, "There's something I want a bit more."

Your breath hitched at his statement. "Hmmm?"

"A few more rounds for my birthday," Mark smiled playfully. "And then a bath before bed, babe."

[rene-darling]

EXPLORING- him

In which you find yourself being able to closely touch and see your boyfriend's body..aka body hcs, and you examine their scars...im not sure if this is the original artist but I found the pic on scara.meowing insta

...Wanderer...xiao...kazuha...

Wanderer

The wanderer isn't one to let just anyone see his body,

Even thinking about being so vulnerable in front of someone leaves his head aching and sends a weird feeling up his spine

Letting someone see the scars he has obtained from throughout his life is something he won't ever agree to doing,

So if you wish to be able to see him, you'll have to find a roundabout way to do so,

Luckily for you, for the past few days, he's been complaining about back aches from being hunched over all day trying to complete his assignments from being a vahumana student

You offered a massage which after much pain and annoyance he agreed to.

After he agreed he turned around from you and took off his kimono, slipping it off with ease as he moved to remove the top half of his black body suit as well, cheeks slightly flushed as he was basically stripping in front of you.

He laid on his stomach starting forward, his usual snappy self is a bit quiet, it isn't every day he's laid bare in front of you for you to touch without engaging in promiscuous activities.

"hurry up what are you starin-" Suddenly the boy goes quiet as you run your hand down his spine, chuckling to yourself at his immediate quietness

Imprints of big circles are left on his back, most likely from the tubes that once connected him to his shouki no kami, large red indents are all that's left on his puppet body, and his back tenses once your fingers trace the circle following it's track.

Your fingers trace his skin where forgotten scars lay healed, scars mostly gained by cruel experiments at the hands of the doctor, his face sours when you touch them, constricting in...annoyance? Sadness? Or perhaps at the reminder of bad memories.

And when your hand traces up his spine to a strange purple symbol on the back of his neck, one that represents the electro symbol but not quite.

And as your hand touches it, it's as if a bolt of lightning is sent through his body, his hand immediately reacting to slap away your hand from it, quickly getting up and backing away from your touch his panicked eyes look into yours his breathing ragged for a moment before calming down

"I'm...im sorry" his voice comes out in a whisper, as if that's all he could manage..

Xiao

If you thought getting the wanderer to show himself to you was hard think again.

In no circumstance will he ever allow you to massage him just because his muscles feel sore

He's too proud as an Adeptus and as a Yaksha to allow that.

No matter how many long nights he's fought allowing himself relief in this form is out of the question.

It's not just his pride speaking though, he's far too selfless to allow himself rest.

Only when his karmic dept clings to him and dark miasma swirls in the air that surrounds him does he agree to allow you to touch him, albeit very reluctantly.

Only after being pushed to his physical limit does he allow you to touch his bare body, his bare body that he despises so much.

Your hands, which remain untainted by the dark miasma that surrounds him, untainted by the blood of thousands of innocents, he isn't deserving of your touch.

But he holds his tongue, letting your hands roam over his toned back without arguing, not so much as a pip is heard from the man,

He has a small frame, and an even smaller waist but the muscles he's trained from over a millennia are quite clear and pronounced

Your hands ghost over healed scars that he's long forgotten the stories too, claw marks which indicated a time his very flesh was punctured and bleeding.

Those scars he had gained admits battle, those roughly edged scars that you touched oh so very sweetly. He doesn't deserve this. In his mind he doesn't even deserve you but this especially.

He breathes deeply, it's okay, it's fine, he doesn't mind as you touch the scars he obtained during wartime, a time when he used to fight with his brothers and sisters

But his breath does hitch when you touch a scar that...even after thousands of years is stuck deep into his skin, a scar he received long before being rescued by Rex lapis.

His fists clenched as the memories flashed before his eyes,, the memories of him..his breathing increased almost to the point of him having a mini panic attack..

He only calmed himself once your hand moved away from there and to his arm as you traced the tattoo on it, gently tracing its edges as you reassured him that it would be alright.

Kazuha

Kazuha does not mind one bit if you want to see his body

He'll make a sly remark about your request of course

But he'll never deny nor say no to you

He doesn't have any insecurities regarding his body

He's confident in them and the scars he has obtained over the years of being a samurai

He'll raise an eyebrow at your request and give you a sly smile, yet when you explain your reasoning he'll smile gently and he chuckles nodding to your request set

Taking off his shirt for you and laying on his stomach, you can see his arms wrapped in bandages and some freshly obtained scars on his back are too.

Most though, are healed each one having a story behind it,

Whatever scar you trace he'll have the story behind it, from the smallest of cuts to the deepest of gashes he'll tell you, in depth how, where, and when he got it

Scars trace throughout his body down his arms that are wrapped in bandages, perhaps this day, he'll let you redo them for him,

Other than his scars his skin is soft and smooth, it's quite fair and he definitely has a tan line, his face is a bit darker than the rest of his body due to him always being out in the sun

He sometimes likes going into gruesome details about how he got a specific scar, but when you asked him about one he got on the day tomo was killed, he hesitates.

Going quiet for a moment, thinking deeply about what to say or tell, but unlike the other boys, he's more open with you and he'll tilt his head back as he recounts the story of that scar.

He won't tell you the whole story but...little by little he'll start mentioning little details here and there, leaving you some empty spots for you to figure out.

[joelscruff]

quickie (boyfriend's dad!joel x reader) 18+

i wrote this so quickly, it's short and weird but i had a sudden rush of inspo and needed to write it. forgive me.

summary: joel is your boyfriend's dad and you're fucking him in secret. that's it. reader is of legal age. rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: daddy!kink, dirty talk, riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie word count: 922

joel's office is upstairs but you still worry that he'll hear you, even with the door locked and your face buried in his shoulder. he holds you close and rubs your back, coaxes sounds out of you that you've never made before and lets you take what you need.

"daddy," you whisper, breath hot in his ear as you bounce relentlessly on his cock, loving the way his big hands hold your hips firmly in his grasp, guiding you but never forcing you, "daddy, daddy, daddy," each thrust is like nothing you've ever felt before, every single time. no matter how long this has been going on.

"that's right, babygirl," he breathes in your ear, voice low and husky, "there you go, take it, just take it."

your hands grasp his shirt tightly, buttons pulling apart inch by inch, tearing at the seams. he doesn't care. he never has.

"gimme your come," you whimper, ass slapping against his thighs as you shove yourself down on him over and over, feeling the head of his cock prod the deepest parts of you, filling you the way his son has never truly been able to, "please, daddy, need it so bad."

a knock at the door then, loud and abrasive. "anyone in there?" you hear a muffled voice from the opposite side of the wall; your boyfriend, waiting outside, looking for you.

"fuck's sake," joel groans, eyes rolling back as he starts to help you move, pounding into you steadily; this always happens, there's never enough time, it's always a rush.

"tell him... to fuck... off..." you whisper, breath hitching at every thrust.

"you know i can't do that, babygirl," he cradles the back of your head, pulls you in closer, "gonna give it to you now, hard and fast, hold on to me," you do as you're told, gripping his shirt tight in your fingers and shutting your eyes tight as he fucks you as deep as he can, cock pistoning inside you at a relentless pace.

another loud knock, a muffled noise from the other side.

"daddy," you moan softly, burying your face further into his shoulder, feeling the heat of his neck against your forehead, "daddy, please."

you're both painfully aware of the short amount of time you have left, knowing his son - your boyfriend - won't wait around forever. the last thing either of you need is for him to start getting suspicious, start wondering where it is exactly you go on thursday evenings during his stupid gaming tournaments.

it only takes a few more steady thrusts, a few more heavy bounces on his cock before you're keening against his skin, letting your orgasm ride as his cock stills inside of you, the thick warmth of his come filling you up, spurting deep and steady.

"daddy," you whimper, body going lax and loose in his arms.

joel groans in your ear, still coming inside you and holding you still. you feel your body shake, loving the way he empties himself completely, always making sure you don't miss a single drop.

"dad?" you can suddenly make out the sound of your boyfriend's voice on the other side of the wall, "where the fuck are you?"

"can he fuck off?" you hiss, voice breaking as you pull back in joel's embrace. he leans forward to press a tender kiss to the tip of your nose, relishes in the way you sigh contentedly, pussy still throbbing tightly around his length.

"i'm sorry, babygirl," he carefully pulls you off his cock, seats you on the couch beside him, "put your panties on, keep all that come inside."

you nod ferociously, wanting him to see how good you are for him, how you actually listen to him and do as he tells you, something you'd never do for the stupid boy standing in the hallway. you grab your panties from the floor and slip them back on, feeling warm dribbles of his come begin to pool inside the material.

"and shorts," he says, meanwhile tucking his softening dick back inside his pants and doing up his belt, "then go hide in the bathroom 'til i say."

"okay," you finish pulling up your shorts and reach over to kiss the side of his face, flushed and warm, "don't forget about me."

he takes your chin between two fingers and kisses your nose again, giving you a reassuring smile, "never, babygirl."

you rush into the bathroom, shut the door behind you and lock it. you listen with bated breath as joel opens the door to his office, hear your boyfriend ask where you went, if he's seen you.

"maybe she went home," joel suggests, "i mean, it's not like you pay her much attention anyway."

"so you haven't seen her?"

"no, son, couldn't tell you where she is."

your boyfriend groans, so loud it makes you smile. good, you think, make him think i went home, give us some more time.

"i'm headin' out," your boyfriend says obstinately, "if she shows up, call me."

"will do."

the door shuts and you wait until joel knocks on the bathroom door for you to come out. you instantly wrap your arms around him, press kisses to his cheek and neck, already wanting more.

"i'm sorry he's so mean to you, baby," he murmurs in your ear, reaches down and squeezes your ass through your shorts.

"i don't care," you whimper, cupping his cock through his pants, feeling it already start to harden again under your fingertips, "just want you, daddy."

[chaoticforever]

Where The Path Led | Yandere Stephen Strange x Male! Reader

Summary: Who thought having sex with Doctor Strange would cause the man to become very obsessive and delusional?

Y/n stirred groggily, a throbbing headache pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the harsh morning light streaming through the window. The brightness only added to his discomfort, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The room spun slightly, and he had to close his eyes again to steady himself.

After a few deep breaths, he cautiously opened his eyes again, this time letting them adjust to the bright light. As his vision cleared, he turned his head to the right, wincing at the sharp pain from his neck. That's when he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat or two.

This wasn't his room.

It took him a moment to register that he also was not alone. An arm was draped casually across his waist, belonging to someone still deeply asleep. Following the arm up, Y/n recognized the face — it was his colleague, Stephen Strange. The man looked peaceful sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of Stephen lying next to him sent a rush of memories flooding back to Y/n.

The night before, Y/n had gone to a bar in the city, intent on drowning himself in alcohol. He had discovered yesterday that Marcus, his boyfriend of two years, had been cheating on him. The betrayal stung deeply, and he needed an escape. He wanted to forget, if only for one night.

And that's when Stephen had appeared. Noticing Y/n's somber mood, he joined him at the bar. The two men had shared drinks and danced together. Before they knew it, they ended up back at Stephen's place, and one thing had led to another.

Now, Y/n thought back to that moment with a sense of regret. He hadn't wanted to sleep with anyone; he had just wanted a night to forget his issues. Carefully, he eased himself out of Stephen's embrace, holding his breath and slipping out from under the covers. Spotting his clothes scattered on the floor, he began to dress quietly, wincing at the rustling fabric. He located his phone and keys in one of the pockets and quietly left Stephen's home.

Upon returning to his apartment, Y/n made a beeline for the bathroom. The cool water on his face felt amazing, but he knew he looked and felt like a mess. He vowed to himself that he wouldn't indulge in such heavy drinking again.

Going to the kitchen, Y/n began making this hangover remedy his dad had often made for him back in his early twenties. Y/n didn't think he would need it again, but it turns out that he did. As he mixed the ingredients, his phone rang and saw that Mercedes was calling. He answered.

"Hey, Mercedes."

"Hi, Y/n," Mercedes' cheerful voice came through. "So, what did you get up to last night? Drinking liquor at a bar, perhaps?"

Y/n blinked, because how did she just— "Uh, how'd you know that I went out to a bar last night? I didn’t tell you about that."

"I heard from Juan," his friend explained. "Said that he saw you at Charley's bar, getting wasted. He also mentioned that he saw you leave with someone — a tall male with black hair and a goatee. Did you hook up with somebody last night?"

Y/n sighed as he poured the remedy into a cup. "I did. I slept with my colleague, Stephen. It was a drunk hookup though, nothing more, and It won't happen again."

"And why won't it happen again?"

"To be honest, I don't like Stephen in that way," Y/n replied, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "And after finding out about Marcus, I don't feel like dating or hooking up with anyone for a while."

"I understand," Mercedes' voice was soft. "Take all the time you need to heal but don't let Marcus' actions hold you back. He doesn't deserve your time or energy."

Y/n smiled. Mercedes always knew the right thing to say to make him feel better.

"Thank you, Mercedes," Y/n said gently. "Listen, I'm going to hop in the shower, but we can talk later. Tell Sam I said hi."

"Will do! Talk to you later, n/n," Mercedes responded before the call disconnected.

Y/n placed his phone on the charger and headed for the shower, hoping the warm water would soothe his aching body and clear his mind after the chaotic night he experienced and a challenging morning.

XXXXX XXXXX

Monday morning arrived, and Y/n woke up feeling refreshed and surprisingly energetic, considering the events of the past few days. He had spent the rest of his weekend relaxing in the living room and briefly chatting with his dad on the phone. It felt like he had finally gotten a good night's rest, and the absence of a killer headache was a welcome bonus.

The male stretched his arms above his head and yawned, feeling the satisfying crack of his joints. He whistled softly to himself as he went through his morning routine, preparing for the long day ahead.

As he drove to the hospital, his thoughts drifted back to his night with Stephen. A flush crept up his neck, thinking back to their sexual encounter. Even though they worked in different areas of the hospital— Y/n as an immunologist and Stephen as a neurosurgeon — they still often saw one another. Y/n wondered if the man in question would bring up what happened between them. He hoped he'd agree to forget about the situation and move on.

When he entered the familiar halls of the hospital, Y/n greeted his colleagues with a smile and nodded to familiar faces. He made his way to the staff lounge for that much-needed cup of coffee because his appointments were back-to-back, and he knew the caffeine would be essential to getting through the day. The lounge was empty as he poured the liquid into a cup.

And then:

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning, Y/n," that was Stephen's voice. Stephen's arms wrapped around Y/n's body, planting a hand on his chest. Y/n's breath hitched as Stephen planted hot, wet kisses on the back of his neck. "You were really amazing last night, you know?" Stephen nipped at Y/n's earlobe. "We definitely got to recreate that, huh?"

Y/n’s breathing hitched. He couldn’t deny that Stephen’s lips felt amazing against his skin, but he really needed to talk to him to make sure they were on the same page. And seeing how this guy was sucking on the back of his neck, It's clear that they weren’t on the same page.

Y/n turned around in Stephen's embrace, stopping the kisses and taking one step back. "Stephen, we need to talk," he said.

The man in question, on the other hand, shook his head. "Later. I want to make love to you again. Right here, right now."

His hand reached forward, palming Y/n's erection with his fingers. This caused Y/n to take two steps back, needing to put a sizable distance between them. There was no way they could do anything here, especially in a hospital where they could be walked in on at any given moment.

Stephen looked annoyed as he took two steps forward, placing his hand on Y/n’s shoulder. "What is there to talk about?"

Y/n took a deep breath in, gathering his thoughts together. "Look, man, last night was — it was a mistake. A good mistake, but still a mistake. We were drunk, and—"

Stephen's eyes narrowed, and his grip on Y/n's shoulders tightened. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice dangerously quiet. "Is that truly how you feel?"

Y/n's heart stilled as he saw a flash of something dark in the surgeon's eyes. It was only a fleeting moment, but it was enough to send a chill down his spine. Still, he needed to get these words out. 

"Yes," Y/n said softly. "We should forget it. You know, pretend it never happened."

For a long moment, Stephen didn't voice anything, gray eyes fixed on Y/n’s face. Y/n honestly didn’t know what Stephen was going to say, but he just hoped that he didn’t blow up in his face or be upset with him. Then, slowly, he released Y/n’s shoulder and took a step back, grinning.

"Alright Y/n. If that's what you want, then we will pretend that it never happened." 

The h/c-haired doctor nodded, internally sighing in relief that Stephen understood where Y/n was coming from "Thanks for being so understanding. We should both probably get to work right about now." 

Stephen offered a small smile and opened the door for Y/n, who thanked him and left the lounge. Stephen headed to his office on the fourth floor, while Y/n headed to his office on the third floor.

Booting up his computer, the h/c haired doctor pulled up his patients' files and began reviewing them, preparing for the long appointments. His first patient was a young girl named Sarah, and he took a moment to familiarize himself with her medical history before her appointment.

Exactly at nine o'clock, there was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Y/n called out. The door opened to reveal a brown-skinned muscular man and a young girl with brown hair and brown eyes peeking out from behind him. Y/n acknowledged the man's attractiveness but shook off the thought since it wasn't appropriate.

"Good morning, Mr. Flynn. Please, come in," Y/n said, offering them a warm smile and extending his hand for him to shake, "I'm Dr. L/n, but feel free to call me Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, sir," Jesse responded, shaking Y/n’s hand and stepping inside. the office, guiding his daughter forward. "This right here is my daughter, Sarah. She's a bit shy, so please bear with her."

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah," Y/n knelt down to the girl's eye level. "You can call me Y/n, too. No need for formalities." He patted on the examination table. "Take a seat here, and we can have a little chat?"

The young girl nodded silently and climbed up onto the examination table, her eyes darting around the room. Jesse took a seat in the empty chair next to his daughter as Y/n began the examination.

"Sarah, your dad explained to me on the phone last week that you've been having tummy aches lately. Can you talk to me about that?" Y/n's voice was friendly.

She twisted her hands in her lap. Then, in a small voice, she spoke, "My tummy hurts sometimes, and I don't know why."

Y/n nodded understandingly. "That must be scary. Can you tell me where it hurts? Does it hurt all the time or sometimes?"

Sarah pointed to her mid-region. "It hurts right here and it usually hurts after I eat."

"I see," Y/n murmured, making a note on her chart. "Okay, I'm going to take a look and see if I can figure out what might be causing you to have these tummy pains."

Sarah nodded, her hand reaching out for her father's hand, and Jesse held it.

Y/n proceeded to perform a gentle examination, taking care to explain each step to both Sarah and Jesse. He asked additional questions about Sarah’s diet, any recent changes in her routine, and any other symptoms she experienced.

When the exam was over, Y/n concluded that Sarah was likely experiencing some digestive issues, possibly due to a mild food intolerance. He suggested dietary changes for her and an over-the-counter prescription to help soothe her stomach.

"Thank you, Y/n," relief was present in Jesse’s voice. "We really appreciate your help. Sarah hasn't been well lately, and we wanted to make sure she was okay."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "It's my job. I'll send the prescription to your pharmacy, and you can pick it up tomorrow. Try the prescriptions for a couple of weeks, and if she shows no signs of improvements, we'll discuss further steps." He reached into his candy drawer and offered Sarah a lollipop. "And here's a lollipop for being the most amazing patient I've ever had!"

A smile appeared on Sarah’s face as she took the candy from him. "Thanks, Y/n!"

"You're welcome. It was nice meeting you and I hope that you feel better soon."

Jesse and Sarah exited the room, and Y/n began sending Sarah's prescription to her pharmacy. Just as he finished, there was another knock banging on his door.

"Come in," he called out, expecting one of the nurses or maybe his next patient.

To his surprise, it was Jesse who poked his head into the room. "Sorry to bother you, Y/n. I just realized I left my jacket here," he walked over to the chair where he was sitting and picked up the jacket.

"It's no problem at all," Y/n assured him.

Jesse slipped his arms into the sleeves of his jacket and turned toward the door. Just as he was about to exit, he paused and turned back, as if to say something.

"Listen," Jesse began. "I know this might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask: do you have a special someone in your life?"

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected this line of questioning, but he supposed it was not uncommon for patients' family members to become curious about their doctors' private lives. He wasn't sure about telling his patient's father that he likes dudes since he didn’t know his stance on same-sex couples, but something compelled him to tell him.

"Well," he chose his words thoughtfully. "to answer your question, no, there's no special someone in my life. There used to be a guy but he lost that title privilege."

Jesse nodded, taking a step closer to Y/n's desk. "Interesting. So, if I were to ask you to join me for dinner tomorrow, what are the chances that you would say yes?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. He had not expected this turn of events. Jesse was a handsome dude, no doubt, and seemed like a good guy. Y/n would be down for it, but the timing wasn't right.

"Oh, I'm flattered, Jesse. Truly," Y/n said sincerely, voraciously, "But to be honest, I just got out of a two-year relationship, and I'm not looking to date right now."

Jesse's face fell, but he gave a nod. "I get it. It's too bad I didn't meet you three years ago. Have a good rest of your day."

Jesse turned the doorknob and left Y/n's office. Y/n watched him go, intrigued by his forwardness. He wondered when the next time they'd see one another again.

And Y/n found his question answered by the time Valentine’s Day rolled around. However, not only did he find the answer to his question but he found a revelation as well, a scary discovery about Stephen.

As Y/n sat in his office, writing notes, he heard a knock on the door. He called out for the individual to come in, but instead received another knock. A bewildered expression crossed Y/n's face as he got up to open the door himself, only to find no one outside. However, he spotted a bouquet of roses and a box of expensive chocolates, each with a note attached.

The note attached to the roses said, "For my one true love, Y/n. I can't wait to see you again soon. -Stephen." The note on the chocolates read, "To sweeten your day, my love." There was a heart under it.

Confusion painted a portrait on his face. It seemed as though Stephen believed they were in a relationship, despite Y/n's clear indication that he wanted to forget about their one night together. Y/n knew he needed to set the record straight and speak to Stephen as soon as possible.

His opportunity came during lunchtime when he was sitting at one of the tables outside. Stephen approached and took a seat next to him without asking, greeting Y/n politely and inquiring about his day.

A forced smile appeared on Y/n's face. "It's going well, thank you. And yours?"

"Wonderful, now that I see you," Stephen replied, reaching over to take Y/n's hand in his own. "Did you get the flowers and chocolates I sent? I know you like roses."

Y/n nodded slowly. "Yes, I did, and—"

"Shh, Y/n," Stephen interrupted, pressing a finger to Y/n's lips and running it over his bottom lip. "No need to thank me. That's what good boyfriends do."

Y/n's eyes widened because what the—? Did he just hear that correctly? Stephen thought that they were— "B-Boyfriends?" 

Stephen smiled and planted a kiss on Y/n's cheek, his fingers running over Y/n's knuckles. "Yes, boyfriends. You and I, of course. Where do you want me to take you for Valentine's Day dinner tonight? I know this amazing Italian restaurant—"

"Stop," he removed Stephen's hand from his and held up his own hand. "Look, I think you've got the wrong impression. We aren't boyfriends; we're not dating."

"And why is that?" Stephen questioned, scooting closer to Y/n in his chair. "We had sex, Y/n. That makes you mine now."

At that moment, Y/n realized that something was seriously wrong with Stephen. His insistence that they were dating, despite Y/n's clear rejection, was an obvious sign of delusion. Y/n knew he had to be firm and stand his ground.

Y/n shook his head. Why wasn't Stephen getting it? "I'm not yours. At all. We only had a night together. I am not interested in pursuing anything further. I don't want to be with you. Do you understand that?"

Stephen's jaw clenched, and for a split second, Y/n saw a dangerous flash in his gray eyes. Then, Stephen pushed the table away and stormed off, muttering something about Y/n being ungrateful.

Y/n let out a sigh, feeling drained by the conversation. He hoped Stephen would finally understand and leave him alone.

But Y/n really didn’t feel like working for the rest of the day, so he took the rest of the day off and asked his secretary to reschedule his remaining patients.

As he made his way to the parking lot, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He was half expecting it to be Stephen, but he was relieved to find Jesse standing there.

"Oh, wassup, Jesse. What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah?"

"Yes, she's doing much better, thanks to you. The pills you recommended worked well," he responded. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something else."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"

"Well, it's Valentine's Day, and I know it's a bit last minute, but I was wondering if you'd like to join me for dinner tonight?"

Y/n was at a loss for words. Sure, he did find himself wanting to get to know this guy better. But he hesitated, unsure if it was a good idea since there are ethical implications of dating a patient's family member. He could get in a lot of trouble.

"I appreciate the offer, Jesse, but I don't know if it's appropriate," Y/n attempted to explain. "I mean, you're Sarah’s father, I'm her doctor. It’s a conflict of interest." 

Jesse waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. It’s only a conflict of interest if we’re dating, which we’re not. We’ll just be two people enjoying a meal together. What do you say, doc? It could be fun."

Well, when Jesse puts it like that, Y/n guess that sort of makes sense. Since they’re technically not dating, it wouldn’t cross any ethical lines in a literal manner.

Besides, his friends had Valentine's Day plans, and he was the only odd one out. Y/n was planning on spending the day in his living room and ordering some pizza.

"Well, I do enjoy a good meal and good company," the h/c-haired male agreed to the dinner. "Where did you have in mind?"

"There's this restaurant downtown that recently opened," Jesse suggested. "It's called Lepley's and it has good reviews. I've been wanting to try it. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect. Shall we meet there? Around seven?" Y/n gave a thumbs up.

"Seven it is," Jesse confirmed.

Jesse walked back to his car, and Y/n entered his own vehicle, still processing what just happened. Momentarily, Y/n wondered what the evening would bring.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, a certain man with a goatee had watched the interaction. Stephen's gaze followed Y/n as he drove from the hospital, a dark look in his eyes.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n arrived at the restaurant promptly at seven, his heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He had taken the time to dress nicely, opting for jeans and a dressy shirt. Casual yet stylish too.

As he entered the cozy establishment, he spotted Jesse sitting at a table by the window, looking around the place as the gentle music played in the background.

"Y/n, over here!" Jesse waved him over.

Y/n made his way through the bustling restaurant, feeling a pair of eyes on him as he walked. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but he forced those thoughts aside, reminding himself that this was simply a nice, friendly dinner.

No extra strings attached. 

"Hey, Jesse," Y/n greeted politely, sliding into the seat across from Jesse. "This place looks wonderful." He took another glance around the loud, crowded place. Valentine's Day made this place packed.

"It does, indeed," the man sitting across from Y/n agreed, brown eyes flickering over to the fish tank that was on display. "I've heard great things about this place." 

A waiter approached their table, handing them menus and offering them drinks. Y/n and Jesse both ordered a lemonade.

"So, what's it like being a doctor?" Jesse asked, leaning back in his seat to give Y/n all his attention. "I imagine long hours."

Y/n nodded in agreement. "Long hours for sure. It's very demanding and a lot of work, yet there's nothing more rewarding than helping patients with health issues."

"That paycheck must be very rewarding too," he said. "With that salary, you get to live in a big house and drive a fancy car."

The waiter returned with their drinks and took out his notepad, asking them what they wanted to order. Jesse ordered a steak with a side of mac and cheese, and broccoli cheese casserole. Y/n then ordered a simple cheeseburger and fries. The waiter said their meals would arrive shortly as he took their menus and left the two alone.

Y/n took a sip from his lemonade before answering Jesse’s remark. "Well, believe it or not, I don’t live in a big house. I live in a small apartment. However, I plan on upgrading to a house once my student loans are fully paid off, which should be real soon. I also plan on keeping my Chrysler. I’ve never been much of a big spender; I like the financial stability that comes with being a doctor. But enough about me. What do you do for a living?"

Jesse explained that he works in the finance department of Stark Industries. He analyzes investments and monitors the company’s financial performance. That was simply remarkable, especially to work for such a renowned company.

Soon, their food arrived, and they dug in, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about their hobbies and even shared embarrassing stories from their childhood, laughing together.

As the evening progressed, Y/n relaxed, enjoying the time he shared with Jesse. It had been a very long time since he'd connected with someone so effortlessly, and Y/n found himself hoping that this wouldn't be the last time they met up.

Y/n and Jesse ordered a rich chocolate soufflé to go and decided to split the bill, both insisting on contributing. As they walked out of Lepley's, they realized that their cars were parked on opposite sides of the lot. Jesse's eyes wandered to Y/n.

"Well, I think it's time we call it a night. Thank you for having dinner with me."

Y/n smiled. "Thank you for inviting me. It was definitely better than spending this day alone with a box of pepperoni pizza."

Jesse nodded, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day, Y/n."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jesse," he said.

And then, the two men parted ways. As Y/n walked to his car, he felt a sense of content. He was glad he had gone out tonight, and he could say that thoughts of his ex-boyfriend were no longer at the forefront of his mind. Despite the rocky start to his day with Stephen, the night with Jesse had ended on a good note.

Or so he thought.

Y/n had just unlocked his car door when he felt a hand cover his mouth and pull him backward. Startled, he tried to push his assailant off, but the person wouldn't let go, keeping a tight grip on him. He was dragged into an alley, and the arms around him finally released their grip. Y/n scrambled forward and turned to see who the fuck had dragged him in there.

And it was Stephen. Fucking. Strange.

"What the fuck Stephen?!" Y/n shouted, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Stephen remained silent, staring at Y/n angrily. He was pissed. Before Y/n could react, Stephen pushed him up against the wall, his hand wrapping around Y/n's throat, squeezing the sensitive area a bit.

The dark-haired doctor leaned in close, their noses almost touching. "Who was that guy you were having dinner with?"

"I... I was just hanging out with a friend."

"A friend?" Stephen's lip curled. "Is that what you call it? I saw the way you were looking at him. I won't tolerate cheating."

"You can't cheat on someone when you're not together, which we aren't!" Y/n felt drained by this entire situation. This dude was crazy and needs serious help.

"Oh, we’re together. Always," Stephen pressed his body against Y/n's and dry-humped him from the front. "and forever." Stephen then pressed his lips to Y/n’s. The kiss was aggressive, almost violent, and Y/n tried to pull away, but Stephen held him in place, his hand leaving Y/n's throat to grip his jaw. "You always did like it rough," he murmured against his mouth before pulling away with a grin.

But the grin soon faded as Y/n's foot connected with Stephen's groin, causing him to double over in pain and drop to the ground. Y/n seized the opportunity to run back to his car and drive away, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. As he turned off his car engine, entered his apartment, and dropped his keys on the table, Y/n's hands were still trembling.

This was the last straw for Y/n.

Tomorrow morning, Y/n is filing a report with Human Resources and if that didn't resolve the situation, he would consider transferring to a different department. This kind of behavior cannot continue.

XXXXX XXXXX

Y/n was up early the next morning, determined to meet up with HR before his shift started. He was going to put an end to this situation with Stephen once and for all. It was clear that Stephen had developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and the h/c-haired male refused to put himself in more situations like this.

After a shower and a cup of coffee, Y/n dressed in a sharp suit, ready to face the confrontation head-on. He was aware that presenting himself confidently and assertively would be important to being taken seriously. As he finished tying his tie, the news played in the background — something he usually ignored while getting ready for work. But this time, Y/n turned the volume up and his eyes were wide with shock at the reporter's words.

A picture of Stephen appeared on the screen, and the reporter explained that Strange had been involved in a major car crash, his vehicle flying off the road and crashing into a nearby riverbank. He had died from the accident last night.

Stephen was dead.

A mixture of emotions washed over Y/n, but the predominant feeling was... relief. He was relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Stephen or his antics anymore, and he could go to work without always worrying about being harassed. A smile crept onto Y/n's features as he shut off the TV with a click of the remote. He no longer had to worry about talking to HR.

Today was going to be a great day at work. In fact, it turned out to be his best.

As the months passed, Y/n's life only improved. He finally finished paying off his student loans and upgraded to a four-bedroom house, ecstatic to move out of the city and away from the constant chaos that seemed to surround his old apartment building. He received a salary raise at work, took a vacation, and even adopted a golden retriever named Max to share his new home with. His life was great, and he's going to keep it like that.

Y/n was now sitting on his couch in the living room, channel surfing as his dog snoozed by his side. A huge storm raged outside, with lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, and rain pouring down. He had just found a channel to settle on when the lights flickered and the TV shut off.

"Damn this storm," Y/n muttered.

With a sigh, the man grabbed his phone and headed toward the basement. When he reached the circuit breaker, he flipped the switch, and his lights came back on.

Y/n returned upstairs, but he felt too tired to stay up any longer. He had been dozing off before the lights went out, so he decided to go to bed. After changing into his pajamas, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and let out a small scream. Stephen Strange was standing behind him, a smirk tainting his features. But when Y/n turned, no one was there.

He looked around the room, ensuring that no one was in his house, and shook his head, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him. Stephen was dead; there was no way he could be standing here. It had to be his imagination or something.

With that thought, Y/n got underneath the covers and closed his eyes tightly. The sound of rain always helped him fall asleep faster. He entered the first stage, the twilight stage, when the man heard a weird noise that he couldn't describe. He opened his eyes to see an orange portal materializing on his bed. And he backed away very fast. What the hell was that? Just then, he was sucked into the portal, only to find himself... back in his room?

Y/n blinked. He realized that he was, indeed, back in his own bedroom, but something felt off. How had he fallen through some sort of portal in his room, only to end up back in the same place?

"Leave it to you to make pajamas look sexy, Y/n," a familiar voice commented.

The h/c-haired male stilled, recognizing the voice. No, no, no, that can't be right.

But, sure enough, when Y/n turned, there stood Stephen Strange. He was alive...? And wearing some sort of cloak.

"W-What are you doing here? They said you died in the car crash," he stammered.

Stephen threw his head back in laughter as if that idea was totally preposterous. "Well, technically, I did die in the crash, I was saved, thanks to surgery. I went to Kamar-Taj, became a wizard, and all that good stuff. The Sorcerer Supreme here."

Y/n couldn't believe this. How had this guy managed to do bad shit and become a wizard? It seemed unfair. Y/n tried to take a step back, wanting to put more distance between them, but Stephen held up his hand, and Y/n's lower body froze. He couldn't move the lower half of his body — no matter how hard he tried.

"What the hell did you do to me?" Y/n tried to run but, once more, couldn't do it.

"Just something to ensure you don't run off on me," Stephen explained, walking towards Y/n until he was standing right in front of him, eyes glancing at Y/n lips. "You know, I've missed the taste of you."

Before he could speak, Stephen's mouth captured his in a fierce, possessive kiss. Y/n couldn't move his lower body, but he could still move his face, so he turned his head to the side. Stephen gripped his jaw, forcing Y/n to maintain eye contact, and continued his relentless, demanding kiss. Finally, Stephen pulled away, his breathing ragged. "Tell me you love me," he whispered, cupping Y/n's face in his hands, his thumbs stroking Y/n's cheeks.

Y/n shook his head, his breath coming in short gasps, "I hate you so much, man."

The wizard paused, his eyes darkening. "You hate me?" he repeated slowly, his voice low and dangerous. And he looked furious, pissed. With a wave of his hand, Y/n was thrown on the bed and landed with a thud. Stephen climbed on top of him, pinning his arms against the bed. "You hate me after everything I've done for you? After everything I've given you?"

"Yes, I do," Y/n breathed out truthfully. "Because you're fucking crazy, Stephen."

"Now, that’s one thing we can agree on," Stephen released his right hand to run his finger over Y/n’s jawline. "I’m crazy for you, and you are going to love me."

Then, something weird began happening to Y/n. Longing and desire engulfed him, his thoughts filling with images of the person he hated most. No matter how hard he tried to think of someone else, his thoughts kept returning to Stephen.

"What," Y/n shook his head as if he was trying to shake whatever was happening to him off. "What did you do to me?" His vision was starting to become blurry.

"Rest now, my love. We'll talk later,"

Y/n soon slipped into unconsciousness, his mind clouded with confusion and a growing sense of unease for the future.

Stephen smiled as he watched Y/n fall into a deep sleep, his breath evening out. He moved to place Y/n's head in his lap, gently stroking his hair. Even asleep, Y/n looked good, just as he was that night.

The Sorcerer Supreme's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night with Y/n, the night that had changed everything. He remembered the way Y/n had looked at him across the crowded bar, their eyes locking briefly before Y/n quickly looked away, taking another sip from his drink. Stephen had known in that instant that Y/n was interested, and their amazing night together had only confirmed his theory—they were meant to be together. That night was literal proof of their love.

When Stephen had woken up the next morning to find Y/n gone, he had been confused about his whereabouts. But he had shrugged it off, absolutely certain that he would see his lover again soon.

And when he saw Y/n in the lounge, he couldn't resist coming up behind him and kissing his neck. God, Y/n's skin had felt so good against his lips, and he had the sudden urge to take Y/n right then and there. But Y/n had surprised him by saying that their night together had been a mistake. There was no way that night could've been a mistake. It was perfect.

Stephen knew that Y/n was only saying that because he was scared — scared of getting into another relationship. And that was okay. Stephen would give him the space he needed because he knew that deep down, Y/n felt the same way.

So, he had given him space, settling for watching him like a hawk from afar. But when Valentine's Day rolled around, the best holiday for couples, Stephen knew it was the perfect opportunity to spend some time together. Y/n had more than enough time to get over that stupid ex, and now it was their time to be together.

Stephen had also decided to get Y/n some generic Valentine's Day gifts, chocolates, and flowers, and planned to take him to a fancy restaurant in the city. But once again, Y/n didn't want to go out with him, which was starting to piss him off. After all, they were boyfriends after their night together, so why did Y/n keep insisting that they weren't? It's annoying.

However, what was even more annoying was discovering that Y/n was going on a date with someone else. Someone who wasn't him. Stephen's blood had boiled with unruly anger. How dare he cheat on him like this? He wouldn't stand for it.

The surgeon hadn't thought twice before he pulled Y/n into an alley after his date and scolded the man for cheating. Y/n was clearly playing hard to get, wanting to make him jealous, and it was working. Stephen was going to show Y/n exactly who he belonged to, which had resulted in a kick to the groin. That had been painful, but he had recovered quickly and hopped into his car to follow Y/n. He wouldn't let Y/n escape his grasp.

That's when he got into a car accident and died briefly during surgery before being brought back to life. He was then taken to Kamar-Taj, where Stephen had become the Sorcerer Supreme and the Master of the Mystic Arts. Pretty cool.

Throughout his time there, one person remained at the forefront of his mind.

Y/n.

Stephen had also realized that his love for Y/n was still strong, and he knew that Y/n loved him as well, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. Now that he was a wizard, he was going to use his abilities to bring Y/n to his new home.

And that's exactly what he did.

Stephen brought Y/n to his new home near the Sanctum, using magic to make the inside of the home identical to Y/n's old room. He knew that Y/n would love him for the time and effort he put into making sure everything was just right.

Once again, Y/n surprised him by saying that he hated him, which frustrated him.

Was it that hard for Y/n to accept their love? Well, if he wanted to be stubborn, Stephen would have to make him see it. He cast a spell, a love spell, to ensure Y/n's devotion. It was his way of making Y/n see the truth — they belonged together.

Y/n woke up sometime later, yawning. His eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was Stephen, sitting next to him.

"Are you okay, my love?" Stephen asked, fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's cheek.

Y/n smiled lovingly at Stephen, his pearly white teeth flashing. "Of course, I'm okay. I get to wake up every day next to you, handsome." He moved forward and wrapped his arms around Stephen's neck, pulling him into a nice, loving hug.

Stephen's smile was victorious, and he melted into the embrace, his arms coming around to possessively wrap around Y/n's waist. Y/n was finally his, and he had finally admitted that he loved Stephen as much as Stephen loved him.

He knew that some might call him obsessive or even delusional, but he didn't care. He did nothing but help Y/n see the truth. In his eyes, Y/n was his and his alone. He would do whatever it took to keep it that way, no matter what. After all, what’s life without a little danger?

XXXXX XXXXX

[rikichie]

Just don't ask me how that huge plush was thrown there

Under the cut, things I imagine in YOI pre-canon, with the ways my thoughts tie into canon to explain why I think them. These are personal headcanons and interpretations.

With Viktor, I imagine his family being high achieving, and Viktor having a lot of expectations on him. And he matches then successfully. But this means his parents think he's doing well, even in moments where emotionally he isn't. They look at achievements rather than looking at him. It's not intentional neglect, they just don't have the awareness of mental wellbeing. He has a bed and food and he's doing well in school and skating, so everything must be okay. It's fine when he's fine, it's lonely when he's not. And it's the first environment that teaches him to match himself to what's expected and wanted of him, fulfilling a role rather than just being.

When he's older, he quietly creates distance. Not cutting them off, but not reaching out. They don't mind. They follow news, and they can show off his success.

When he's young, Viktor loves having fans and being known and admired. Af first he doesn't see downsides to it. And then something happens, as simple as "did you see him throwing the flower at Christophe Giacometti? He was flirting, how cute" - and Viktor realizes his fans will draw their own conclusions and won't believe him if he tries to say they're wrong.

So he starts adjusting his approach. Building a persona, and building walls. Charming smiles that get him anything he wants. Practicing the skill of giving people what they expect. Being what they expect. And then flipping it on its head and surprising them.

If you're focusing on matching and subverting expectations, you're not necessarily being yourself. Any personal exploration of identity is hidden and alone. But on the ice, when he's performing, he can be honest. He can be seen. Because they're going to take it as fake. Think of how Minako reacted to Stammi Vicino - Viktor's earnest plea for someone to stay by his side, well, he's too charming for this to tug at the heartstrings. So he can play with stories that he won't share with anyone any other way, and he knows they'll take it as pretend.. The walls he builds don't allow him to be truly close to people. He has good relationships with other skaters, but emotionally keeps them at arm's length. He doesn't notice he's isolating. Chris and he have fun joke-flirting, but when Viktor steps away from the ice Chris doesn't seem to realize he needs this, isn't close enough to know what he's struggling with. He talks like Viktor is taking away the motivation he's entitled to by choosing to coach Yuuri. His rinkmates see him on good and bad days so they know when he struggles, and Yakov is the only person close to knowing him deeply, but even he doesn't take it seriously when Viktor burns out, so that is still limited.

For Yuri, I think his mother was going through a lot to let his grandfather take care of him. He has a lot of responsibility in that setting, and it all starts when he's so young.

I think, with Viktor being present in his life consistently from such a young age, Viktor is one of the people he sees as family. He absolutely looks up to him, just like he absolutely looks up to Yuuri. And I think he resents the emotional distance Viktor maintains.

He's not very attentive to people in general, but he's the one that explains to us how Viktor feels early in the show. When Viktor left to Japan so suddenly, I think Yura felt abandoned beyond just Viktor forgetting to choreograph a program for him. If it was just the program - he did end up getting Agape, he could have just asked for that, but he tried to get Viktor to go back. I feel like he hates that Viktor went to look for a way to get his spark back somewhere else, instead of staying and finding a way out of his slump with his rinkmates. If what Viktor needs is to coach someone, why isn't Yuri good enough? He's a talented skater and he sees himself as continuing Viktor's legacy, but Viktor chose someone else for that role.

And Viktor did choose Yuuri to continue his legacy. Because Yuuri skates so beautifully, because Yuuri has so much love for Viktor's skating, because Yuuri has drive and ambition and pride and skill and he finds joy in skating, and Viktor wants to nurture all of that into the performance Yuuri deserves to show.

And along the way, he learns how to connect with people as himself. His relationships with Yuuri and Yuuri's family open doors for him to better and deeper relationships with Yuri and Chris and anyone else he wants to be close to.

About Yuuri, there's very little I can say because we know so much. So I'll just share a lighthearted headcanon a few friends and I came up with as a story idea and I just adopted.

I don't share the fanon that Phichit got him into pole dancing. In my mind, he either started himself, or it was Chris - unintentionally. I think they're friends, because of how Yuuri reacted to him in the show, like he's used to him. And I like to think Chris kept saying things that made Yuuri feel competitive. Talking about how it's great for core strength, "but it's probably not your thing." Sent pictures of himself performing difficult moves, and got pictures back because Yuuri was trying to match him or do more difficult things than him. And meanwhile Chris thinks they're showing off to each other for fun. It's how Chris knew Yuuri can keep up with him at the banquet.

I still want to write something for that last bit.

[bigintorobotsrightnow]

Just Ted and AM enjoying the flowers, I wrote a little fic to go along with this art piece as well if anyone wants to read it— A gentle breeze cascaded across open fields of wildflowers, where AM laid peacefully amongst petals and blades of grass. His head rested upon his arms, dozing off to Ted’s delicate touch as he strung flowers into his circuits. So meticulous with the colors and arrangement. AM couldn’t help but watch from the corner of his eye with interest. 

“And what purpose does it serve for you to kill the flowers and put them in my wires,” AM pointedly asked with a chuckle in return from Ted. He plucked yet another flower, this time a black eyed susan that he perched atop AM’s beak. His fingers traced along the sharp, metal ridge and AM raised his head from his arms to glance back at himself and observe Ted’s handy work. 

“Don’t put it that way— I mean, you’re not wrong I just I thought you’d look, well… pretty,” Ted whispered the last part, a bashful shift of his eyes. 

“And?” AM inquired then stood and craned his neck to put the arrangement of flowers on full display under the sun. They shone bright against the dark chorded circuits, a bloom of color against a dreary mechanical form. And Ted awed at his vibrance against a blue sky. A warmth quick to dance across his cheeks. 

“And…I was right,” Ted uttered so breathlessly and AM could only scoff to himself at such a ridiculous notion. Pretty, only Ted would think to call a machine, pretty. 

“You’re a moron,” AM quipped back and scoured the field of flowers for the perfect one to embellish Ted with in exchange. He found himself drawn to a cluster of bright yellow coreopsis, in which his long, jagged talons reached to pluck the flowers from the earth. Only for them to crumple and tear under their razor sharp edge. He hissed through his speakers as petals fell from his claws.

“It’s alright, you just have to be gentle. Here let me help,” Ted chortled then scooted forward to take AM’s hand with his own. The computer recoiled initially then eased into Ted’s grasp. He allowed him to carefully bring his talons back underneath a nearby blossom. He eased them closed to snip them from the stem, then followed through to bring AM’s hand back to his hair where he neatly placed the flower for him.

His hold on AM’s hand sank back to his wrist and he smiled. While AM stared at the bright yellow flower that stood in stark contrast to Ted’s dark locks.. Pretty, the word echoed within his processors and he craned his neck around to find another cluster of flowers. Pristine ones that he plucked just the way Ted had shown him. He arranged them neatly into Ted’s hair, and Ted began to laugh again as they fell out shortly after he’d placed them.

“Hold on, they won't stay like that,” Ted uttered and collected the flowers back from the grass, “God I haven’t done this in… well over a hundred years at least.” 

He pulled both of AM’s hands into his lap and AM followed closely as Ted began to weave the flowers together one by one. “There, just like that, then you can make a crown,” Ted explained then left the rest to AM. He struggled at first, as his big, clunky talons lacked the tact for something so small and delicate. But AM was determined to get it right, and Ted was there to nudge him in the right direction. 

The finished product was by no means glamorous, but when AM lifted it to place on top of Ted’s head, it was…perfect. AM admired his work in silence a moment, gazing down at Ted with a warmth he wasn’t even aware of himself. But Ted’s face darkened and he turned away from him. 

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s creepy,” Ted teased and AM blew a raspberry at him. 

“What, I just thought you looked, pretty,” he echoed Ted’s words and butt him with his head before he nuzzled his beak to the side of his face.

“Oh shut up,” Ted laughed and pressed his cheek back against his.

—

[theaspsaroaceimagines]

You asked for it. Now you get

EVEN MORE Hazbin Hotel x God of Death! Reader

spoiler for episodes 7 & 8

It turns out you arrived at just the right time, actually.

The Extermination is soon and Charlie and co. need as much help as they can get defending the Hotel.

It's just your luck, you came for a vacation, and you still have to work.

You're a little surprised Carmilla Carmine discovered the angels' weakness.

But only a little. She is an arms dealer, after all.

To be honest, you should have realized it happened sooner when the dead angel's soul showed up in Limbo, but you can't actually tell the naked souls of a demon and an exorcist apart.

They're honestly equally corrupted.

You help train the demons who've chosen to defend the Hotel, it's pretty brutal.

Except for Alastor, he chose to skip training; a mistake you won't let him make again.

When the exorcists attack, you are calm and collected. You have no reason to fear for yourself.

That doesn't mean you don't fight fiercely, though.

It's the first time in thousands of years that anyone's been able to lucidly see you in action.

You're untouchable, dodging and blocking every blow directed at you.

You attack in turn with the Soul Reaper, a weapon that changes form between any kind of scythe or sickle based on what's most useful at a given moment.

For example, it can be an ordinary scythe while blocking, a sickle during a close range attack, and a kusarigama when you want to pull an opponent into close range from further away.

The exorcists don't recognize you, too blinded by their hatred for demon-kind to see you for what you are.

It's hardly even a challenge.

You notice quickly when Adam joins the fight, though you let Alastor fight him for a few seconds before stepping in.

You suppose you can allow him to defend his pride a little bit.

You won't let him die now, though, it's too early. He has yet to serve his purpose.

You try to keep Adam occupied. You really do.

However, you're unable to prevent him from disintegrating Pentious's airship.

You drop the fight the instant it's happened.

Seeing as Pentious sacrificed himself for the others, you figure he's earned a one-way trip to Heaven.

You carry his shell-shocked soul straight to the seraphim.

"Special delivery! Also, friendly reminder, I'm the one who decides where a soul goes and when it goes there. Maybe consult me the next time you have a question of if a transfer is possible, Sera."

You fucking slap her.

When you return to the battle, Lucifer and Charlie are struggling to fight Adam while minimizing collateral damage.

Time to fix your mistake.

You tackle him.

"You again?! Who the fuck are you?!" "You already know me, Adam. You just don't remember."

You knock him off his feet.

"I'm Death. Taking you to Heaven was a mistake. One I won't soon repeat."

You slice his wings clean off.

You would have left it at that, but then Niffty stabs him from behind with a blessed dagger.

Great. Now you have to deal with him in your home.

Whatever, you'll just keep him in stasis until you're tired of him taking up space.

Then you'll deposit him in Hell where he belongs.

[castiwls]

labyrinth - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'oh no, i'm falling in love. Oh no, I"m falling in love again'

Requested; @beanysofa

Notes; this song is so cute i love it sm! requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Oh no i’m falling in love

Falling in love after Jessica had seemed impossible. Just the thought left a queasy feeling in his stomach and an overwhelming sense of guilt. Falling in love would be betraying her, betraying the life they could have had. 

He’d never admit it but the thought of love scared him. Everyone he’d ever loved seemed to die or leave and every time it seemed like it was his fault. Sam had pretty much resigned himself to the fact that finding love was something he was simply immune to. While he craved the affection and security that came along with love he knew his love only put people in danger.

And he refused to let anyone else be put in danger due to him. But the world seemed to tilt on its axis when you first appeared in his life. The walls that he’d built over time came crumbling down more and more every day. 

The first time he’d realised what was happening was a week after you’d first appeared in his life. Sam had found himself yet again immersed in research when he’d been broken from his concentration by a plate being placed in front of him. 

He stared at the plate for a moment before turning his head. You smiled shrugging slightly, “You’ve been at it for hours. You need to eat.” You gestured to the plate before glancing at his laptop. He felt his breath catch slightly as you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to get a better look at the screen. 

Clearing his throat he looked back to the plate before him. “You made me a sandwich?” Sam smiled slightly feeling you lean back, your hand still on his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t think you’d appreciate a burger.” You laughed lightly. 

Sam let out a small laugh of his own, nodding his head slightly. You’d already noticed his eating habits enough to know what he did and didn’t eat. Did you really pay that much attention to him? The thought left a warm feeling in his stomach. You cared. “Well,” you gave his shoulder a slight squeeze. “I’ll let you continue. But promise me you won't sit here all night? It’s not as productive as you think.” You teased.

“I promise you I won't sit here all night.” Sam turned back to face you. You nodded before turning to leave. He frowned slightly at the loss of your touch, feeling the space where your hand had been slowly cool as you disappeared around the corner.

Taking a breath he turned back to his laptop. He started at the sandwich again, feeling a smile pull at his lips. The thought of you paying attention to him enough to realise things such as what he ate and his less-than-healthy sleeping habits left him feeling slightly giddy inside. A feeling he hadn't felt since…since Jess.

As he sat the realisation of what these feelings meant slowly dawned on him. He was doing the one thing he’d promised himself he’d never do again.

He was falling in love.

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Over the last few weeks, Sam had come to the realisation that he was in fact falling in love, and he was falling fast. He’d learned from a young age that he was someone who seemed to love too hard. Someone who fell hard and fast and then had to deal with whatever the fallout was after.

But you were someone that he couldn’t help but fall for. He knew it was a bad idea. Falling in love always seemed to be yet his head and his heart seemed reluctant to agree.

Sam stiffened slightly as you fell onto the couch beside him. Your leg pressed against his as your head fell back against the couch. “Tired?” He smiled tilting his head down to look at you. You let out a breath sending him a slight smile. “You have no idea.” 

You stared at the ceiling for a moment and he couldn’t help but slowly trace your features with his eyes. He barely noticed the smile that grew on his lips as he watched you blink at the ceiling. 

Just being close to you was enough to raise his mood and make his day better. Suddenly your eyes moved to his and he felt his breath catch. A slight blush crept on his cheeks as he realised he’d been caught staring.

Much to his surprise you said nothing, you didn’t even tease him you just simply held his gaze. After a moment you let out a quiet sigh, your head dropping to his shoulder. You both stayed quiet, as his gaze stayed on you. 

Slowly his body began to relax more into the couch. Cautiously his hand slowed moved until it brushed against yours. He’d noticed the way your breath had slowly begun to grow slower as you’d sat and was slightly surprised when your hand wrapped around his.

His eyes moved down to where your hands were joined and his blush seemed to grow even more. Laying his head against yours he felt his own eyes begin to droop.

He knew he was done for. You’d waltzed right into his life and seemingly claimed his heart against his will and there was nothing he could do.  The realisation had hit him like a truck that he was falling in love again. But maybe he was okay with that, maybe he was okay with falling in love as long as it was with you.

[fizzing-imagines]

Teenage Pregnancy Series | Billy Hargrove x Reader

Notes: Billy does not get taken by the mindflayer in this one, aka he gets a happy ending. Please read the note about this series

Warnings: Mention of divorce, teenage pregnancy, premature birth

Word Count: 3.8k

Your dad didn't mess around when it came to you.

Once you told Billy that you were pregnant with his child, he was gone. Out of fear for his reaction, you didn't tell him for a whole month, and once you did he left. No phonecall, no visit, nothing. He wasn't even at school.

After a week, your father was fed up and drove over. You were his little girl, his everything, and he couldn't stand to see you cry every day. Neil greeted him at the door, God knows he couldn't stand him, with a gruff "Yes?"

"Good afternoon Mr. Hargrove. I was looking for William." Your dad never called your boyfriend by his nickname. Neither of you knew why, he just didn't. Maybe it was part of his army veteran exterior. "What's he gotten himself into now?" Your father knew about Neil, and how he treated Billy. If anyone was going to beat him up for how he's treating you, it would be him. "I'm planning a birthday surprise for (Y/N) and I wanted to include him."

Neil let him in the house, where he strutted into Billy's room. Without a knock, he swung the door open and then closed it behind him again, to not let Neil know what was going on. Billy was laying on his bed, smoking and starring at one of the posters on his wall when your dad grabbed him by the collar and held him against the wall.

"Son.", he started. "And I call you son because I have never treated you like less than a son. I don't know who you think you are, abandoning my daughter but you're coming with me right this second to apologise."

It all happened so fast that Billy was starring at him like a deer in headlights. Your dad wouldn't hurt him, he knew that much, but he also didn't expect this kind of confrontation. "My child is two months pregnant with your child. No matter how unfortunate the circumstances are, it's also your responsibility." Billy knew your father was right. He didn't want to disappear like his mother did, but he was scared to turn out like his father. But he would never admit that to your father.

"Right.", he simply said.

"So we're driving over now. And flowers are just a nice extra to a lengthy apology, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir."

20 minutes later, you heard your father pull into the driveway. You just finished crying for the countless number of times this week when the door unlocked. "Hey dad.", you said as you turned around the corner, just to see not only your father but also Billy with a big bouquet of flowers in his hands. "Got someone for you.", your father said while walking over. He placed a kiss on your forehead and whispered "Dig your heels in." to you before walking into the backyard.

"(Y/N).", Billy said quietly. You silently stepped up to him, to which he gave you the flowers. "Thank you.", you whispered. Of course he'd get your favourites, although you were never sure if he even remember which ones you liked best. "I'm...really sorry..." Immediately, you started crying again. This felt surreal to you. "Why?" was all you could sob under your tears. Something rare happened, something you'd deem extraordinary: Billy started crying. He never cries. "I'm scared.", he admitted. You quickly put the flowers down and pulled him into a hug. "I don't wanna end up like my asshole father." Emotions poured out of him. Honestly, it overwhelmed you a bit. Between him disappearing and not knowing if there would be a father for your child, him letting his emotions out was a lot. "I didn't mean to, (Y/N), I'm sorry." You held him through his tears, whispering that it was all going to be fine, that he won't have to do it alone. Billy was scared. But he'd be more scared of loosing you.

"We'll manage, okay?", you said after a while. By now, you were laying on the couch, Billy between your legs with his head on your chest. "We'll manage, no matter what. No Neil, no shitty family. We'll have our own." He was tired from crying and only let out a small hum in response. His hand found yours and intertwined with it. "I'll never leave you again, I promise.", he mumbled after a while before kissing the back of your hand. Despite the pain he caused this week, you were happy to have him back. To hold him again, and to be so vulnerable with him. "Do you wanna see it?", you finally asked. Your boyfriend looked up at you. "See what?"

"The baby."

Billy raised his head with a look that showed that he was thinking of what to reply. Finally, he said. "Yes." Both of you got up to walk into the kitchen, where your father has put the sonograms on the fridge like a proud grandpa. You took them down and handed it to him. "Baby was 5 weeks in this one.", you explained as you pointed at the first one. Honestly, there was nothing more but a small white dot. It didn't look like anything, but both of you knew that. "And this one is from two days ago, so we're at 9 weeks." It was much more visible in the second one. You could point out their tiny arms and legs, but especially the head. "Really photogenic, always lays perfectly to point everything out." The joke went over Billy's head since he could stop starring at the picture. That was his baby, in his girlfriends stomach, that he made with her. Billy couldn't help but immediately fall in love with the small life he created. He pulled you into his side and kissed the top of your head. "That's out baby."

"Yeah, that's ours."

"I think we'd all agree that it's best if Billy moves in with us.", your dad said during dinner one night. Billy was over every day now, not wanting to leave your side if he didn't have to. But those words caught him off guard. He looked at your dad, then you, then back to your dad. "Are you serious?" He started grinning, a rare sight to your dad. "You'll be 18 soon, no? Neil can't stop you then." Your boyfriend was in deep thought for a good while, before your dad added "You'll wanna live with your child. As long as one of you gets a job, you can live here rent-free." It was moments like these that showed your father's no-bullshit policy. He was a very honest and direct man, and it showed right now. "You're right. That would be great, honestly." Billy smiled at your father. "Thank you, sir." Your father gave him a nod of recognition before continuing to eat.

"Two more months, then.", you said to Billy that night as you laid in bed. His fingers were tracing along your stomach, feeling the slight curve the baby in your stomach was making. "You have no idea how much I want to get out of that shithole.", Billy said, still touching your belly. "I'm not just imagining the bump, am I?" You laughed a bit. "No, it's there. Although, tiny. He or she doesn't seem to like the attention of a baby bump." Billy looked down at you with a small smile before leaning into a kiss. He made sure to pour all the love and care he had for you and your baby into it, and it worked; you felt like you were floating. "I love you.", you whispered against his lips once you separated. His arms snaked around your waist and pulled you on top of him. "I love you, too."

Both of you remained quiet for a while, enjoying each others warmth. You started feeling sleepy and closed your eyes, until Billy asked you a question. "Do you wanna know if it's a boy or a girl?" That wasn't something you thought about yet, so you started thinking. "I don't know. What about you." He bit the inside of his cheek while thinking. "I don't wanna know. I'd be scared a boy would turn out like me, and I don't want to ruin your pregnancy." A soft smile spread on your face and you leaned fowars to give him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Alright. It'll be a surprise. But we gotta pick out names for both."

"Julia for a girl.", Billy said in a heartbeat. Julia was his mother, who he told you so much about.

"Julia for a girl.", you agreed.

"Billy.", you mumbled as you woke up. It was three in the morning and you craved nothing more than some icecream and coke right now. "Billy, baby.", you continued until he finally woke up. "What?", he groaned while rubbing his eyes. "I want icecream.", you said while playing with his hair. He turned his head to look at the clock on your nightstand. "It's three in the morning.", Billy complained before turning back around, trying to fall asleep again. "Please.", you whined as you shook his shoulders lightly. "I'm scared of the dark, Billy." Your boyfriend groaned again before sitting up. "Okay, let's get you your icecream."

He watched you eat your chocolate chip mint icecream and gulping down three cans of coke while leaning against the kitchen counter. "You happy?", he whispered to not wake up your father. You nodded your head with a wide grin, and that made it all worth it for him. The baby bump was growing bigger each day and now, at it was undeniable even while you wore his shirts. Billy saw the life you two made growing in you each day, and it made him finally feel like he had a role in life.

"But you're brushing your teeth again after this.", he whispered after a while. You simply nodded while shoving another spoonful of icecream in your mouth. As you finished the third can of coke, he already got you another one from the fridge. "You're the best boyfriend ever.", you whispering after he set it down next to you. Those words made him feel so warm inside, so much so that he leaned foward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Even with icecream smeared around your mouth, you're still the sexiest woman on this earth.", he rasped in your ear. It send a shiver down your spine. He whiped the sticky residue from your mouth while you put the icecream down. "I think I'm craving something else now.", you whispered.

Never have you seen Billy put away food and dishes as fast as he did right now.

Billy had to be honest to himself, he didn't mind that your second trimester made you horny and energetic. Especially now that he finally moved in the moment he turned 18 and had you to himself all day, he was enjoying your company. And even more when it was the weekend and your father was at work.

"Oh fuck, Billy! Shit!", you moaned loudly for the third time this day. Billy was buried inside you all the way, filling you up like he'd be able to impregnate you again and doing his best so you could find your release. Your legs wrapped around his waist to keep him in place while you came down from your high. "Fuck, Billy...", you groaned. He slowly pulled out of you and laid down on the spot next to your body, where he pulled you up to him. "You feel incredible.", he mumbled into your hair. You were so glad that he matched your newfound libido. Billy pulled the blanket over both of you so you wouldn't get too cold.

"You okay, baby?", he asked while running his fingers over your spine. With a small nod, you hid your face in his neck and savoured the way he smelled. It became your favourite scent over the last few weeks. "I'm so happy it's the weekend, I wouldn't survive a schoolday with you around." Billy chuckled a bit before kissing the top of your head. "The showers are free most of the time.", he reminded you.

"I know, that might be how we ended up here."

"You really want to walk the stage waddling like a cow?", one of the basketball players asked you while you were showing Chrissy the graduation dress you wanted in a magazine. Not only yours and Chrissy's, but also Billy's head shot up. If there's one thing he would tolerate the least, it's anyone disrespecting you. "What the fuck did you just say?", he asked in an aggressive tone. His fellow teammate started stuttering his words, knowing he royally fucked up, but it was too late. Billy already got up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Say that again." Peoppe from other tables were looking already, just waiting for Billy to get violent. "Fucking say that again.", he repeated. You felt anxiety rise in you; you didn't want him to hurt someone else because of you. "Billy, stop.", you said while standing up yourself. He glanced over at you, visibly pregnant with his baby. And then he remember what he told you: He didn't want to be like his dad. So, he let go of his teammates collar and walked back over to you. "Come on, I need a breather." Your boyfriend took your hand and walked outside with you.

"I'm proud of you, Billy.", you said as soon as both of you were alone on a bench. "I know it's hard for you to controll yourself." His arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. "I made a promise, to you and our kid." He can't admit this in public, but your words made him so happy. Honestly, he can't remember the last time someone told them their proud of him. But he did whisper a "Thank you." to you.

Billy pulled you on the couch to cuddle as soon as both of you came home. At 27 weeks, finding the right position became hard, but he somehow made it work. "You're a softie, Billy.", you giggled while putting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was calm, but it was your favourite sound. "Only for you.", he replied whole stroking through your hair. Your hair kept falling out for the past few weeks, but he didn't care about that. It was part of carrying his baby, and he was grateful for all the work you put in. "One more trimester.", he then said after a while. His hands found your belly and caressed it carefully. The baby's response was a kick, and Billy was ecstatic. "They kicked.", he commented with a smile. And they kept kicking for a good while before calming down. "They usually kick when you're being a soft baby.", you grinned at him, to which he scoffed lightly. As a response, you stretched your neck to kiss him on the cheek. "We like it, Billy. A lot. And I feel very honoured that only we get to see you like this." Billy didn't like admitting to it out loud, but there was no denying that you were his only soft spot. "It's a secret.", he mumbled.

"Of course, baby."

"We can't really put everything where it belongs yet.", you said as you unwrapped the fresh paintbrush. "But we can paint the walls, and at least build the furniture."

One out of two guest rooms was the designated nursery for the little one. Since you two decided to not find out the gender before the baby is born, there was no princess or dinosaur theme to do. But Billy wanted to include some beach elements for decorations, and paint the walls a sandy yellow. "You're not building anything, I'm doing that." He barely let you carry your books to school. But now that you both finished your last finals, there was a lot of time to put up the nursery. The guest bed had to stay until after your graduation since your mother and sisters would come to Hawkins for your graduation. Honestly, you didn't want them there - especially your mother always had a reason to complain. Now that you were 18 and pregnant, she had even more to bitch about. Plus, your sisters are just like her. That's why they stayed with her after the divorce and you moved with your dad.

"You're gonna have fun with my family, they're a bunch of cunts.", you said while giving the paint a stirr. "Not something I'm not used to.", he commented while covering the furniture he pushed into the middle of the room with a plastic cover. "You haven't had my sisters hit on you yet.", You watched him cover the bed and nightstand while speaking. "They can try all they want, you're the only one I want." Billy helped you stand up from the ground, then kissed your forehead. "I know. But they're just...something."

He put his hands on your bump, feeling the small kicks from that the baby was doing. "They didn't give me a roof over my head, or a child. They can get fucked."

"You look beautiful.", Billy said as he pulled you closer to him. The bump was big and round, making it impossible for Billy to pull you to him completely. Kicks hit his own stomach as your baby was kicking up a storm in you. "See, he or she agrees." Both of you laughed, you a bit more than him. "Thank you, Billy."

Both of you went downstairs to meet the others; your father, mother and two younger sisters. While your father gave you a rare smile, the other three looked less than pleased. As much as you didn't like them, it still hurt that they couldn't at least retend to be happy for one day. But that didn't matter that much while watching your dad fuzz over having to take pictures of you and Billy. Once he was done, you went to grab your gowns and Billy walked into the kitchen to fill your watter bottles. The constant dryness in your mouth was the most uncomfortable side effect, especially when you'd have to sit through a whole graduation ceremony. To Billy's misfortune, the older one of your siblings followed him into the kitchen.

"You're really doing a lot for her.", your sister said as she leaned against the kitchen counter next to Billy. He let out a gruff hum, not looking up once from the bottles he was filling. "Don't you think you deserve a little break with some fun?" She leaned forward, showing of as much cleavage as her dress let her show while dragging her pointer finger across his biceps.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers.", Billy threatened in a calm tone, still not looking up before leaving the kitchen with your water. But he didn't let it affect your incredibly good mood, plus he didn't plan on telling you in the near future. "You ready?", you asked with a wide smile. That smile made it all worth it.

"More than ready.", he replied before kissing you in front of your sisters.

Both of you finished up the nursery the second your mother and siblings left. It was pretty neutral, but the nursery mobile was ocean themed and some artwork on the walls depicted the ocean. Plus, a bunch of books Billy bought for the kid were about aquatic life and the ocean. You put up all the sonograms that were taken over the last few months, framed and everything. The nursery looked so beautiful.

And your baby thought the same.

Suddenly, you felt your pants getting wet. You looked down in shock and it took a while for your brain to puzzle together what was happening. "Billy, my water broke...", you said with a quiet voice. He looked over with a confused look. "What?"

"My water broke."

This wasn't supposed to happen, you weren't full-term yet. 34 weeks was too early. "Can you take me to the hospital? Please?", you sobbed. You felt like a small child, unable to controll your emotions and needing guidance from anyone else but you. But your boyfriend didn't waste any time to get you and your hospital bag in the car before driving you to the hospital, although way above the speed limit. It didn't matter to you.

Nothing did, except your baby being okay.

The birth was awful. You were in excruciating pain, and ended up having to get a C-Section because your baby was in breach. They were brought into the NICU while you were recovering in your room. While you were stable, Billy was scared. Scared of loosing you, or your child, or even both of you. But at least one of those fears washed away when you woke up. "(Y/N).", he husked in relief once your eyes fluttered open. His hand found yours and held it carefully while stroking the back of it.

"Hey.", you whispered as you looked at him through your blurry vision. "Baby's okay. She's in the NICU." The pronoun he used struck you. "She?", you asked. Honestly, you were sad that you weren't even awake to find out the gender. "Our little Julia.", he said with a smile. It was such a distinct, different smile. You've seen him happy, but never this happy. "Can I see her?", you asked. He kissed the top of your head before saying: "Once you're better, we can go see her all day."

"I can't wait."

"Stay in bed, I got it.", Billy mumbled while getting up to check on the baby. You were still recovering from giving birth, but both you and Julia were home from the hospital now. He was very attentive with both you and your daughter, and he didn't want you to overwork yourself. He had you in bed or on the couch most days, and carefully watched your every move when you were walking around. You could hear Billy calming your daughters crying, followed by footsteps walking to your shared bedroom. "Look who's here, Julia.", Billy cooed at his daughter while walking over to your bed. Julia was placed securely in your arms, where she looked at you quietly. She was tiny due to being born as a late preemie, but she pushed through and was now home with you. There was not a single doubt in your mind that you'll both love her forever.

"She's such a quiet baby, I'm worried.", you admitted to Billy. "I mean, she was born early. What if she's hard of hearing or something?" Your boyfriend sat down at the edge of the bed next to you. "Then we'll go through it as a family. No matter what." His fingers ran over her head, where she had a good amount of blonde curls already.

"Both of you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I'll be here for everything."

[yanxidarlings]

YANDERE TWD

REUNITED (yandere! big brother! merle dixon x male reader x yandere! big brother daryl dixon) (yandere! gareth x male reader) (rick grimes x male reader if you squint) NOTES: fair warning, this is some descriptive disturbing shit merle dixon counts as a warning on his own as well. this went in many directions i originally set out for yandere headcanons for the two, then got into the terminus arc, and ended with some pretty vague alluding to yandere. might write a part two)

imagine obsessive! possessive! big brothers! merle and daryl dixon. the dead begin to walk and they keep the darlin safe, meeting up with the atlanta camp. but the brothers won't let anyone get close to the darlin, not dale, not carl, certainly not shane or lori.

somehow, the darlin ends up going with glenn into the city on a supply run, only for it to go horribly wrong. the darlin insisted they head into a chemist to "look for medications" in case anyone in the camp needed them. but it was a lie. the darlin just wanted to find something to help merle with the inevitable withdrawal he'd go through once his supply of drugs ran out. the chemist is overrun by walkers but the darlin insists. "we can clear it!" they say to glenn "it'll be worth it for m- everyone" the korean gave the other a skeptical look. in the end, there was just too many, glenn thought he saw the darlin go down and reluctantly returned to camp.

"oi! shitface, you think you're a big boy now? can do whatever you want now everything's gon' to shit!" the raspy, harsh voice of merle dixon echoed through the camp. the redneck tramped over to the SUV glenn was parking. he remained silent as he turned the engine off. taking a deep breath, the young man exited the car, staring at the grass.

the older dixon stormed over, aggressively opening every door of the vehicle until he reached the boot. filled with supplies. "where the fuck is m/n" he growled, coming closer to the asian "he better be pullin up in another car" merle spat out. "i- it was" glenn stuttered out, looking like he was about to piss his pants "it wasn't my fault, m/n was being reckless, i had no cho-" CRACK glenn's face was soon bloodied and bruised, merle now on top of him, yelling out profanities as he beat the younger man. "merle!" the others quickly ran to pull the redneck off glenn.

"you fucking ch*ng-ch*ng bastard i'll rip-" merle was pried off glenn, who was now rolling around in agony, his face a bloody mess. "what the fuck happen'd" merle rasped out, although to glenn it sounded like a croak "where is he" merle was still being held back by t-dog and shane as he continued yelling. glenn avoided the rednecks furious gaze "the walkers got him" he finally spoke, looking down.

for a moment it looked like merle was about to cry, for a moment merle himself thought he was going to burst into tears like a sissy. "no he ain't" but instead he picked up his shotgun, and got into the drivers seat of the SUV.

that was how andrea, t-dog, jackie, glenn and morales ended up in the city. that was how merle got handcuffed to a roof by "officer friendly" and that was why daryl yelled in agony on that same roof. in the course of a day, he had lost the two most important people in his life.

but merle had survived by cutting off his left hand, and the darlin had survived by covering himself in walker guts.

"china- no- glenn- don't- help!" the h/c-et screamed, the sound of his own gun firing defeaning his ears. as one went down, another lunged at him, rotten teeth clanking together, desperately trying to knaw into his flesh. but he wouldn't die here. he couldn't. not when merle was 'relying' on him to get drugs. maybe then, the dixons would start to treat him as less of a clueless child and more of an equal.

after taking down a few, m/n jumped behind the counter, rummaging through the medications, looking for anything that might help with the withdrawal, or better, give merle his next fix. more of the dead came at him, but he just kept shooting, stabbing, hitting, anything to cause the fatal damage needed to end the dead's miserable 'life'.

BANG one was down BANG another BANG BANG BANG .. the slide didn't move forward as he shot his way through another round. shit. he was out of ammo "glenn!" he yelled out as a walker fell on top of him, wrestling it's way closer to his skin. all the korean could hear was m/n's screaming. which only attracted more walkers. he saw the medicine that m/n had thrown over the counter before going down, stuffing it into his bag, he creeped up closer to the group of walkers that had acculumated, following the sound of m/n's scream. until it stopped. "m/n?" he uttered under his breath, but the pile of walkers on top of each other told him the other was dead. with tears in his eyes, glenn ran out.

m/n struggled against the strength of the walker. it was freshly turned, he could tell. otherwise it wouldn't be so strong. kicking, punching, reaching for his knife, anything to save himself from becoming one of them. plunging his blade into the side of the walkers head, he quickly slit the once-man's throat. covering his face in the blood. before moving down to the abdomen. cutting it open, letting the walkers rotting insides pour out all over him, the ones that had piled on top soon couldn't distinguish the smell of living flesh from rotting blood.

he went silent, breathing shallowly, hoping, praying, they'd move off him and he could silently slip out. but when he was finally free of the chemist, glenn, the supplies they had gathered, and the SUV were gone.

he walked the dead-ridden streets of the once bustling city, covered in blood, hidden in plain sight. he kept walking (which then turned into a limp after getting hit in the ankle by a flying bullet) becoming weaker with each step, hoping to make his way back to camp. only to come to the end of the trainline leading into suburban atlanta. TERMINUS the building read "those who arrive survive" he heard a feminine voice call out from the speakers. maybe they have gauze. he glanced down at his leg, the sleeve of his shirt he had tied around it now dyed red.

"community for all; sanctuary for all" he saw a young man- perhaps just a little older than m/n was, staring down at him from the window. something felt amiss, off, but m/n had lost so much blood he didn't care. he stumbled towards the train station, stopping and starting as he debated his decision.

daryl, merle.. they'll be wondering he thought to himself, stopping for the 5th time, but i won't make it back he began walking again but they'll be looking for me he stopped, nearly tripping but the sudden lack of motion if i found this place they'll find it too he picked up the pace again, frantically moving towards the gates but- as he stopped himself once more, he finally tripped over. right onto the walker trap the train people had set up. his left ribcage was pierced by the sharp metal pole sticking out of the ground, causing the h/c-et to let out a loud screech.

before he knew it people had come out, the same man that had stared at him through the window moments earlier put his hand on the wound, causing m/n to flinch "we're you trying to get yourself killed?" the man mused, seemingly unphased by the active bleeding out that was happening in front of him. the man spoke more words that were muffled as m/n fell out of consciousness.

it was pitch black when he opened his eyes. not a shred of light to allude to the location. pitch black. m/n's hands brushed her his torso, feeling the gauze that was tightly wrapped around his chest. it all came back to him. the chemist, the walkers, glenn, the train people. he shifted his arms, feeling the thin material he was lated on, and the cold metal it covered. attempting to hoist himself up, pain shot through his body.

letting out a groan, he laid back down, closing his eyes. is this death. it certainly felt like it. the nothingness, the pain, it was all he had ever imagined death to be like. what felt like hours passed, the nothingness was almost comforting, how long had it been since he could lay like this and do nothing with no worries. it was all ended when the creaking of the door signaled to m/n that he was not in-fact dead.

the sudden brightness was blinding "you awake?" a masculine voice spoke. m/n's eyes began burning from the light, "i guess" he replied quietly, his eyes closing. "good" the male put down a plate next to where m/n laid "eat up. i know this isn't the warmest welcome, i would have liked to show you around first" the man chuckled, leaning down, seemingly to get a good look at m/n.

the man- who introduced himself as gareth, began speaking about the community- terminus. that they did whatever they had to for survival, that m/n would have to prove himself loyal if he wanted to become apart of the community. he wasn't sure how to tell this gareth guy that he was leaving as soon as possible to find his group.

the discussion started off normal as m/n finished his food, until gareth started talking about how lonely he was, as the leader of this terminus community. it only got creepier as gareth started to call m/n pretty boy, edging closer to him. m/n doesn't want to know what would have happened if that middld aged lady (gareth's mother), hadn't called the man away.

it quickly became evident to m/n that he was never going to leave. gareth locked him in the pitch black train car for hours on end, opening the door when there were armed men to prevent m/n from trying anything. gareth would sit with him and talk, running his hands over the male's body, stealing kisses, it was a reprehensive routine m/n had become forcibly accustomed to.

it all changed the day the hunters attacked. m/n was in his train car, as usual, listening to the outside screams, wondering if the attackers were dead or alive. he knew they were alive when one pried open the train car door, and threw them self on him. he was then thrown into a cramped train car with other terminus residents, where the hunters hand picked who to assault and slaughter each day. he and gareth spent their days huddled up together, talking about their lives before. had m/n not accepted the hunters offer to leave the train car if he worked for them, gareth wouldn't have lost his mind. but m/n was desperate to get away. from the train car. from terminus. to find his family.

but the hunters caught him trying to leave. they did their absolute worst to him and then threw him back in. when the termites took back terminus, gareth locked the leader of the hunters and m/n into the same train car. "this is what you deserve" he told him, before locking the door shut.

perhaps it was years, perhaps it was months, maybe it was only a few hours. the horrors of the train car began to unfold, as the man who had once led the attack on terminus lost his mind: pouncing on m/n at random, screaming for hours straight, trying to eat m/n alive when they'd be deprived of food, ripping his ear off in hungered insanity. as m/n laid there bleeding from his ear, he decided either i escape or i die. had running worked before? no. was he willing to die trying? not really, but a man would do anything for freedom, and that's what m/n did.

the hunter had fallen asleep, a fatal mistake, as m/n wrapped his hands around the mans unshaven neck and squeezed. within second the man awoke but m/n was relentless, not letting go until the other went limp. i just have to wait now he cried to himself, hands shaking. calming, he began to strip the man of his clothes and use the fabric to restrain his limbs.

waiting for the termites to open the door with the meal made of human flesh felt like an eternity. the familiar sound of metal scratching and creaking filled m/n's ear, who quickly sprung into action.

grabbing the reanimated hunter by the hair, he guided it in the direction of the door, throwing it towards the woman holding their plates. she screeched as the hunters corpse sank it's teeth into her flesh, blood pouring from the wound.

m/n grabbed the woman's gun and bolted as the nearby workers aimed their guns at the walker, taking it down swiftly, but m/n had already gotten out of the train car. hiding behind what once was his cage, he shot at every person who came into view. eventually making his way to the fence, through the woods, he didn't stop running until the sound of gunshots stopped entirely. even then, he kept running. he ran for what felt like hours until his lungs couldn't take it anymore. collapsing onto the dirt, heaving in and out.

woodbury had fallen, it's entire population now living in the prison nearby. rick had relinquished his leadership, insisting the prison be governed by a council. he often went on runs by himself, to get away from it all, to look back on his actions, to find lost survivors. it wasn't everyday rick grimes came across a twenty something perhaps younger male covered in blood, breathing like he had never tasted air before. well, usually the young men were walkers. but this one was very much alive.

"please don't" the male groaned out, eyes wide, as rick approached with a knife. "who are you" he drawled out, kneeling down to get a good look at the other. the young males face was bruised, his hair covered in blood, an ear was missing, and the male was emaciated. "uh" the male seemed to have to think about it, as if he hadn't spoken to another human in years "m/n" he finally puffed out, bringing his hand up to his head, where the left ear once was.

rick's hands brushed m/n hair out of his face, causing the male to flinch away "how many walkers have you killed" the older man finally asked after several moments of silence. m/n just stared at him, as if to say he hadn't been keeping track "how many people have you killed" still, the same look. "water" "what" rick narrowed his eyes. m/n used his free hand to shakily point to the man's bag, where a bottle of water was latched on to the side.

rick was silent as m/n chugged the water down "do you have anything sweet?" "no i don't" "oh" something about the boy felt familiar. didn't glenn mention originally going into atlanta to find a boy with a similar description? maybe it was just that the male reminded him of his own boy in a way, or maybe he had already developed a fondness for m/n. "i have a camp" rick looked m/n in the eye "we have walls, food, a community, a doctor that can look at your wound" he added.

the h/c-et shook his head "not again" rick furrowed his brows "what" the boy started to pick himself up "i gotta, um" he started feeling around the ground for his gun, "gotta go" he finished as he felt the handle of the gun. stuffing the weapon into his belt, he stood up, using a tree as a crutch. "c'mon kid, you're going to die out here" rick leaned forward and took the gun out of the others hand "no im not! give it!" m/n lunged forward, only to awkwardly fall into rick's chest, sinking down back to the ground.

"you've got two bullets left" m/n looked up at rick with a glare "either you come back to my camp with me or i just wasted my water on a dead man" m/n held his glare until the sun got into his eyes. "whatever" he looked down, hoisting himself back to his feet with the help of rick's hand.

daryl squinted his eyes as the evening sun glared down, merle had stolen his motorcycle. again. the older dixon was always going off on fun runs without informing anyone beforehand. perhaps because the redneck had never really been accepted into the group like daryl was.

taking another bite of his pork chop, daryl grunted at carol who told him to go in and get some rest. but why would he want to rest when all he could think of when his mind was unoccupied was his baby brother, the boy he had pretty much raised, who was now probably a rotting corpse in atlanta. but daryl still held out hope that m/n had gotten out, that he was safe, that he would find him oneday. this was why he never rested, these thoughts would creep up in the younger dixons head.

the sound of his motorcycle rumbling told him that merle was back. the older dixon sauntered over to daryl, a cigarette sat between his thin lips, "look what you're big brother merle got you, darylina" he pulled a pack of cigarettes out his pocket, sliding it into daryls pocket. daryl said nothing, staring into the distance; was that rick? the figure was too far away to discern.

"dad!" carl called out, jogging down. "look what i- m/n?" the young grimes exclaimed as he came closer to the pair. rick carried the half-conscious boy through the gates "you know this guy?" rick looked at carl, who flicked the hair out of m/n's face to get a better look "he was with us back in atlanta, we thought he died on a run"

daryl's heart stopped, did he hear carl right? they were pretty far away. standing up, he threw the pork bone aside and marched towards the two- three. when he finally came close enough to see the persons face, he had to stop himself from tearing up in front of carl and rick "m/n" he uttered out quietly. the father and son came to a halt as he approached "you knew this guy back in atlanta" rick nodded at daryl "'course i did. he's my brother" daryl was quick to take m/n off rick. he wanted to cut the mans arms off just for touching his precious brother.

daryl rushed m/n into the prison, settling him in his cell, "go get hershel" he told carol, who looked just as perplexed as merle did as he walked into the cell. "m/n!? i thought you was dead" he breathed out, shoving daryl out the way, who was quick to push back, both wanting to be as close to their younger brother as possible "where'd you find him" merle looked over at rick, who was standing out front the cell "in the woods, looked like he'd been running"

rick moved aside as hershel came in, merle reluctantly stood up as hershel sat to access m/n's condition. "he's lost a lot of blood" hershel examined the ear hole where the flesh and muscle had been ripped from "we should have bob look at him, but from what i can see he needs bandaging and antibiotics" daryl grunted "i ain't letting no stranger touch him" he ushered hershel away, taking m/n's hand in his own "i found antibiotics on last weeks run, that gon' be enough" merle looked over at the old man, who nodded "we'll have to see how he reacts"

neither daryl or merle left m/n's side whilst waiting for the antibiotics to kick in. it was strange. no one in the prison had ever seen either of them so worried for or attached to someone. but for the six days and nights m/n spent unconscious, his body fighting off the infection from his wounds, recovering from the months of maltreatment.

when m/n finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, daryl was leaned against the wall at the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the boys face "sleep well?" was the first thing he said after the two had stared at each other for what felt like an eternity "yeah" m/n spoke softly.

"i should have never gone hunting that day" "am i dead" the two spoke in unison. daryl breathed out "no, never gon' let that happen" he shuffled closer, laying down next to the youngest dixon.

daryl stared at m/n intensely, until merle was roused from his sleep "m/n, i told you not to go out of my sight" he grumbled, sitting forward. m/n looked up at the metal frame of the top bunk "i just wanted to get you some narcan" merle stared at him, blinking away tears "didn' have to risk your life for it" he pursed his lips "i ain't worth you dyin'" he added quietly, sitting back, his eyes not leaving m/n's.

the room went silent for a moment "maybe not, but you're my brother" m/n closed his eyes for a moment "do you guys have pop or candy here?" he questioned hopefully. merle let out a chuckle "i found a can on my run today" he chuckled out, before going quiet "i chugged it on the spot"

"you piece of shit!"

[bokettochild]

What is Legend’s and post-totk Wild’s relationship like? Does it change or is it the same?

Honestly, I keep trying to write an answer but all I have are inexplicable vibes.

It would change. Legend's the same as he was but Wild's grown up. Wild would be either 22 or 23 by the time TotK is over (in game we're told it's been 5 years since BotW) meanwhile Legend is still, at best, 17, but likely 16.

That's a 6-7 year age gap where before they were either the same age or very close.

Legend's still got his experience, but now Wild has the context of years, of knowing what normal looks like. Post BotW Wild has no concept of normal or peace, but post TotK Wild would have spent 5 years just existing and doing People Things. He knows what normal kids are like now. He's a teacher. He's a leader. He's an adult, even if he's still a young one. But he's got that frame of reference that Legend never has had of what life looks like after the adventure, but now also with the understanding that legend does have of the fact that heroes' can be ripped away any time, life uprooted to save the world again at any moment.

Wild has life experience that Legend can't fathom. Wild knows what growing up is like. Wild knows what peace looks like now.

Legend doesn't even know what the word "retirement" means, much less "stop" or "peace". He's used to having only enough time to heal between adventures before heading out again, if that!

I think Wild would come back, thinking he could slip back in, just to realize he can't see his brothers the same anymore. I won't dig in too deep, since you just asked about him and Legend, but for the vet I think he'd just get shocked at how young his brother really is, by how screwed up Legend's outlook on life is, and I think he'd be floundering because the guy he used to look to as a veteran, an expert and a role model, is actually just a teenager with too much responsibility on his shoulders.

I don't think he'd know what to do with that, because that's still his brother, but Legend's no longer his BIG brother, or at least not his peer. Legend's younger than him now, and much as he tries to see the vet the same way he used to, he'd just keep realizing how screwed up everything about Legend really is.

Meanwhile Legend, Mister Abandonment-Issues, would be over here struggling with the feeling of being left behind and out of the know and suddenly feeling small around a hero who used to make him feel so big. Wild's an adult now, but he's not supposed to be. Wild's matured now (but still Wild) and he's not sure what to do with that. Wild is wiser now, knows things, isn't charging in without thought anymore, and Legend has to adjust his whole perception all while wondering if this is even the same guy. All while trying his hardest not to let on that he feels that way because you bet your BUTT this kid has gotten enough grief over the years for not being the same kid people used to know that he has no wish to make anyone else feel that.

Like, adventures change you, a LOT. Legend's had a lot of adventures, ergo; he's changed a ton over the years and it definitely throws off everyone who knows him every single time. it's not his first rodeo, but it is the first time he's not been the one riding the bull that is change.

I think they'd both struggle a lot with this. I think there'd be a lot of frustration and fear on Legend's side and a lot of shock and confusion on Wild's. I think both would grieve, and I know Legend wouldn't be the one to know how to fix it.

Legend fixes problems, but the thing that sets him apart from the rest of the heroes is that he's never had time between adventures to actually process and learn healthy coping mechanisms or ways to express himself. Kid knows how to fix other people's shit, but never his own.

Wild would have to be the one to cross the divide between them, and as the older brother now, I think that would just make it all the weirder for both of them.

Anyways, congrats, I had enough brainrot about this that I wrote a dang fic and then sobbed for a good ten minutes in a public coffee shop T-T

Thanks for the ask!