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#then again I only get sick every few years
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Fussy Nights
Summary: Amelia is grumpy
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A/n: just a silly lil drabble for the love of my life, fire of my loins, the anon from @daycourtofficial's blog 🥹
(dividers by @tsunami-of-tears ❣️)
anyways, enjoyy!
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Eris had always been a light sleeper. Even the slightest of sounds would have him jolt awake, scared out of his mind.
That was until he met Y/n, after his fathers death.
It had been over months since Eris had taken up the role of a high lord, but still, he would always keep looking behind his back, under his bed and in his closet for the ghost of Beron. His booming voice still echoed in Eris’s ears almost everyday, and every night, his father visited him in his sleep. Which was also one of the reasons Eris had stopped trying to even fall asleep without the help of heavy sedatives.
But then Y/n walked into his life, smiled at him, and turned him into a fool in love. He stopped thinking about his father as often, stopped staying awake to the haunting of his fathers ghost. Instead now, he stayed up wondering how to make Y/n laugh, wondering how she would look laying next to him, how she would look standing in front of him in a wedding gown. Fantasising about having his own family one day.
And once the two had gotten married, Eris had slept like a deity buried for years, only to wake up to the sweet, honeyed sound of his mate’s voice coaxing him gently out of sleep.
Or the screaming of his daughter, of course.
Which is what jolted him out of his sleep.
Eris shot up, his heart thumping heavily in his heart before he realised that no one was in danger, and that it was just his daughter who probably wanted some attention in the middle of the night calling for her parents.
He glanced at Y/n to find her peacefully passed out, and he smiled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her brow before he got up, shivering slightly as the chill night air coiled around his shirtless torso.
As he hurried to the crib a few feet away from the bed, he willed his body to warm up and repel the crisp coldness of the autumn night.
Amelia had stopped crying when Eris finally reached her, likely having felt him. She lay on her back, her eyes wide open and filled with tears, her lips jutting out in a pout.
"What happened, princess? Did you miss daddy?"
She sniffled, staring straight at Eris as she made grabby hands at Eris, and he laughed, leaning down to pick her up. He placed her against his chest, wrapping his arms firmly around her little body as he turned. He rocked in place for some time, waiting to see if she would go back to sleep, but when she continued fussing, he turned towards the door.
"Come, let us go out to check up on the hounds. Mommy will wake up if we make too much noise here."
"Eris?"
He groaned inwardly. So much for not waking up mommy.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"What are you doing?"
He turned to find her half sitting, staring at him with furrowed brows.
"Nothing, my love. Lia was just fussing a little, so I thought I might take her to see the hounds for a little."
She sighed. "It’s cold outside, Eris. She will get sick. Bring her here."
Eris nodded, walking back and handing Amelia to Y/n. He watched as she tried to calm down their daughter, settling down next to Y/n’s legs as Lia started to feed.
"She was just hungry?"
Y/n nodded, yawning as she moved to get comfortable. "It’s been a few hours since she last fed."
Eris hummed, grabbing one of Y/n’s legs unconsciously and starting to rub soft circles.
It was a few moments before Y/n spoke up again.
"You don’t have to do that, my love." Her voice was soft, gentle.
Eris smiled, rolling his eyes. "Mhmm."
She let out a soft laugh at that.
"I think she’s full."
Eris glanced up as Y/n covered herself up again, leaning forward to take a drowsy Amelia from his mate. "I’ll burp her then?"
Y/n nodded, yawning again as she settled into bed.
"Good night, Y/n."
Y/n hummed, patting the space next to her. "Come, let her stay."
"Are you sure?" Eris mumbled, though he had already begun to climb under the covers, his arms wrapped carefully around Amelia.
"Of course."
Y/n and Amelia were both passed out before Eris could even get comfortable, and he grinned, staring at both his girls, looking so peaceful next to each other.
As he drifted off himself, he could not help but thank the mother for gifting him such precious beings.
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@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover
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Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh
@ysmtttty @secret-third-thing
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Traits they would want in a partner:
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Senku Ishigami
(This unedited so dont @ me)
Firstly. IF you ever manage to get into a relationship with the man known as Senku Ishigami you probably deserve some kind of award for having to deal with this man’s crazed scientist bullshit every day. He literally doesn’t change one bit, he's still the same Senku that’s blunt, mean, hates physical affection and mushy words. The reward for the least romantic boyfriend goes to *drumroll effect* SENKU!
Senku probably prefers someone that’s he known for a really long time I’m talking since he was at least in junior high but the further back the better and if you were in the science club with him back in high school fantastic. Meeting new people is one thing but actually having romantic feelings for them is a whole other ball game. It’s easier and less work when liking someone who already knows him inside out and vice versa instead of having to do the whole cliché ‘get to know each other’ façade over and over again.
Also, I feel like Senku has only had like maybe 2 crushes in his entire lifetime: one was some famous scientist he saw on tv talking at a press conference at the head of the table in a room full of men and the other one was in his first year of junior high when he was bested at a mathlete competition (in his defense he pulled the most brutal all-nighter the night before while working on some insane project and messed up the placement of a decimal point) by a girl who wore the chunkiest pair of glasses known to man. He quickly got over both as he had learned that realistic the possibility of this famous scientist (who was also married) falling in love with a prepubescent boy was damn near impossible (and illegal) and the girl he liked in school ended up coming out as a lesbian when she and another girl were caught kissing each other's cheek during break time.
Senku probably likes individuals that are independent and self-sufficient like Kohaku (girl boss!!) People that are clingy and to needy are not his forte’ and makes his face sneer or deadpan brutally. He doesn’t like physical affection or words of affirmation on most days he’s more of a quality time (slaving over more experiments with you doing physical labor) and gift giving (making you little trinkets from his science experiments). I mean it’s pretty obvious remember that one episode where Senku’s own dad was about to give a long emotional speech on the record but stopped because he knew Senku would ew at it. So if you’re somebody that thrives off of praise and attention then *opens the door* please see yourself out respectfully because this man is not going to give it to you. You'll be like a little dried up cactus begging for attention.
Senku likes cleanliness and organization. Senku himself is very clean and hygienic. People that are not are usually big turn off and and an even bigger *thumbs down* for him. He’s also organized despite how his experiments and projects seem to be all over the place they’re not. He knows exactly where everything is, the exact millimeter of, every beaker, of every pipette, of every pencil. It's called organized chaos. If one thing is moved without his consent or worse, his knowledge the entire room is thrown off and he has a hard time finding anything for the next 12 hours.
Personal opinion here but I feel like Senku has as dislike for bugs. Like sure. Bugs are cool to explore and on a scientific level sure but anything other than that he’s not really cheering for joy about it. I also feel like he despises getting sick, like literally any type of sickness whether it’s the common influenzas virus or even a slight stomach bug. He’s miserable and irritated and it takes a really long time to get better because although the scientist in him tells him he needs to rest the stubborn workaholic in him tells him he’ll be fine to do a few minutes of work (which ends up turning into hours-please make this man rest🙏🙏). So if you’re the type where you’re unhygienic to the point of constantly being sick or attracting like actual bugs then either you’re going to have pick up the slack on your hygiene or leave realll quick.
Senku also likes people that smart either intellectually or when they’re witty and have a sharp mouth. If they can understand and even better add in their own input when he’s going on and on about different types of minerals sharing his excitement when they make a scientific breakthrough in the stone world he thinks if he didn't believe marriage was a social construction he'd get down on one knee with some sparkly rock he *borrowed* from Chrome's rock collection. Now even if his partner isn’t all into the science *blah blah* cells *blah blah* quantum mechanics and Schrodinger's equation a partner who is sharp on his mouth will suffice jussst as well. It's makes him snicker the tiniest bit turning his head away so no one can see the grin covered on his mouth covered by his hands. People who are blunt and not softspoken are a *big thumbs* in Senku’s book why would someone who has something to say not say it? A waste of time in his head.
Senku likes a willingness to learn even if it's just about they like every now and again. He knows that science is a high broad topic that covers from up into the vacuum known as space or as to the deep as the aquatic volcanoes known in the deep blue ocean. And he knows about it all in that gorgeous brain of his. In Senku's mind everything thing revolves around science, walking-the physiology of cells to tissues, tissues to muscles and neurological brain activity to make voluntary commands, art- the primary colors created by the art starting from things like mud, bugs and fruits, oh chemicals- easy it all starts with the period table of elements starting from hydrogen all the way down to Ogganseon. Anything you like any hobby you enjoy has to involve some kind of science and if you ask some him some questions about how it works or at least how it originates he knows that somewhere in you have the curiosity of a scientist.
Likes athleticism....maybe? Honestly, I'm kind of unsure about this one because on one hand I can see him liking people that are athletic and physically fit not because he thinks that being skinny is better or anything like that but because he can definitely use you like a horse (do yall know like those short mini scenes between the episodes where Senku like dresses up as different jobs imagine him as a farmer with a straw hat on his head in overalls a piece of straw in his mouth and a riding crop in one hand whew😩😩😩) for a lot of physical labor don't worry he'll return your hard work with a treat of your choice but be prepared he will complain about your laziness and wanting to help 'humanity' but on the other hand I could see him liking people that get winded and red faced after walking up stairs or carrying a bucket of water just like he does (extra points if it's a guy like him) because if you're both low stamina and low endurance you can't tease him about his athletic abilities. So a tie maybe.
Lastly, LOVES a strong will and determination he knows that starting the stone world back to modern humanity from scratch is no easy feat hell even he has made a few mistakes while trying to figure himself out. But what he does know is that science is filled with trail and error (mostly error) and it takes a loooot of time before you actually get what you're looking for so if you're the type to give up easily after failing once or twice and turn your back to his goal of turning the world back into the modern society he once had then....I'm sorry to say it probably won't work out for you there's only so many motivational speeches this man can give before he gets annoyed and just lets you give up without any reassurance (don't worry he doesn't take it personal), besides he still has people like Chrome, Sukia, and Kohaku to help.
@instanthideoutsalad I know you said you wanted Soft Boyfriend Head cannons of Senku but I'm so uninspired with those at the moment so please accept my humble offering of this drabble I made🙏🙏🙏🙏. I swear I'll do it soon it soon. 😪😪
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hartwinorlose · 2 days
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got inspired by @neyafromfrance95's soulmate posting
COOPER HOWARD - NINE
1 & 2 - Linda and Robert Howard 
Most people’s first threads are their parents. Cooper is no exception. He’s born with two tiny circles of red around his thumbs and an instinctual knowledge: they are there until death; they will remain even if he cuts them. He has eight more. It is far better to have these two than not. 
Like most children, he makes threats in the midst of his tantrums. “I’ll cut it off!” he screams at his mother when she won’t let him have his way. “I’ll cut your thread!”
Of course, he never does. 
Three decades later, in his father’s hospital room, he watches the brilliant crimson fade to a colorless gray. The last bit of red fades away right as the flatline sounds. 
Cooper is sick for a week straight afterwards, can’t so much as get out of bed. When he finally does haul himself back into the real world, the ache in his heart stays. He resents it — there was no love lost between him and his father, but every time he catches a glimpse of that gray thread, it makes him hurt all over again. In the end, it takes more than a year before his heart feels well and truly whole.
It’s the first thread he loses. It won’t be his last.  
3 - Mrs. Abernathy 
He’s only seven when he gives the third one away. He’d developed a lisp, and his parents had immediately put him into speech therapy. He’s grateful for it. The other children have been picking on him incessantly. 
Mrs. Abernathy never does. She works with him, tells him where to put his tongue to get his consonants just right. She’s exceedingly kind and excessively patient, and he wants to show her how much he appreciates what she’s done for him in the best way he can think of. 
On the last day of therapy, when his lisp is well and thoroughly gone – his peers in third grade will never even know he had it – he edges his way shyly to her desk. 
“Mrs. Abernathy,” he says, proud that he can say her title without it sounding like he’s speaking through a spoonful of peanut butter. 
She graces him with a smile. “Yes, Mr. Howard?” She always addresses him like that, like he’s her equal. It makes him feel distinctly grown-up. 
Puffing out his chest, he holds up his hand. “I want you to know that I gave you a thread.” He knows she can’t see it, and he knows she almost certainly won’t give him one back, but it’s the highest honor he’s capable of bestowing. 
“Oh, Cooper.” Mrs. Abernathy places a hand to her heart. “That’s very kind of you, sweetie, but I want you to be careful with who you give those to, okay? Here.” She holds up her own hands and counts out her fingers, then gives them a wiggle. “Ten. It seems like a big number, doesn’t it?” 
He nods solemnly. Double-digits. He’ll be a big kid when he hits double-digits, that’s what everyone keeps telling him. Ten seems a very long way away. 
Mrs. Abernathy places her hands on her knees and leans forward. “I’m going to tell you a secret. It isn’t very big at all. In fact, in a few years, you’ll probably wish you had a lot more than ten fingers for those threads. So you keep them for people who can give them back to you.” 
He gets a similar lecture from his parents when they find out what he’s done. Mrs. Abernathy must have called them because he comes home to find his father in a fine state. 
“Soft-hearted nonsense!” he blusters when Cooper confirms he has, indeed, bestowed Mrs. Abernathy with one of his threads. “This is what comes of going too easy on him. He gets these sort of fool-headed ideas.” This to his mother, who sits with an almost contemplative look on the sofa. 
“I don’t know,” she hums. “I think it’s sweet of him.” 
Robert’s face goes as red as a tomato. “Sweet! It’s permanent, Linda. The boy’s gone and permanently tied himself to a woman four times his age. What’s he going to get out of that?” He yanks loose the knot in his tie and rakes a hand through thinning hair. 
Cooper quails backward as he rounds on him. 
“You listen here, Coop. You do something this stupid again, I’ll cut the damn thread myself. You hear me?” Robert advances a step, goes so far as to make his fingers into scissors and snip the air. 
Tears well in Cooper’s eyes, and he clutches his hand to his chest. He doesn’t want to lose any of his threads. 
Linda jumps up and slaps Robert’s hand down. “Stop it, Bob! He’s going to think you’re serious.” Spinning, she crouches down in front of Cooper and pulls him into a hug. Runs a soothing hand over his hair and murmurs, “Don’t worry, dear, no one can cut it but you. You know that, don’t you?” 
Cooper nods, but his father’s threat stays with him for a long time. 
4 - Grant 
Cooper doesn’t even think about giving away another thread until he’s fourteen. Grant is his best friend, has been for the past six years – practically a lifetime. Grant probably knows him better than he knows himself. 
It feels monumental when they ditch their bikes at the edge of what they think is the woods – in reality, a two-acre patch slated for development that happens to have some dense shrubbery and trees – and hike to a group of rocks. The rocks are famous with the neighborhood kids for being infested with snakes, but they climb fearlessly to the top. 
Grant takes out his pocket-knife and scrapes it against the unyielding stone. It leaves marks behind, white on gray, and he carves out a clumsy “G.” 
“Here.” He hands the knife to Cooper. 
Dutifully, Cooper adds a “C” right next to it. “Now what?” 
“We gotta bleed.” Grant holds the knife over the pad of his index finger and digs the point of it in until a drop of blood wells beneath it. Once again, he hands Cooper the knife. 
His breath hisses through his teeth as the blade punctures his skin, but he lifts his finger to show Grant he’s done it. 
Grant presses their fingers together, their blood mixing and falling combined onto the initials they’d carved. “There,” he says, wiping his hand on his pants and leaving a rusty streak behind. “Now we’re blood brothers.” 
“Blood brothers,” Cooper repeats, wrapping his hand around his finger to stem the bleeding. When he opens his fist, he realizes a thread has wrapped itself around the base of his bloodied finger. His eyes follow it to where it terminates somewhere within Grant’s rib cage. He hadn’t even realized he’d given one away. 
5 - Janet 
Cooper is seventeen and a bit of a romantic. He’s been dating Janet since Grant moved away two years back, and he’s pretty sure it’s going to be forever. 
By the time he’s eighteen, he’s sure enough to run a thread between them. Never before has he wished so fervently that she could just see it herself because it is, frankly, a little embarrassing to admit. At first, he’s not sure how to say it. Then: genius strikes. 
He waits until prom night, when they sleep together for the first time. When Cooper sleeps with anyone at all for the first time. They lay in her bed afterward because her parents are out of town and they have all night. 
It takes him longer than he’d like to admit to pluck up the courage, but he eventually draws a line from his finger to her heart. 
“What are you doing?” she asks, looking slightly amused. 
Cooper shrugs a shoulder. “Loose thread. I fixed it.” 
She opens her mouth, starts to ask him what he means, but she seems to figure it out as her face flushes bright pink. “Oh, Cooper. I mean… um. Thank you. But I… I can’t…” 
“You don’t have to do it back,” he rushes to assure her. Fuck, this is worse than he thought. 
“No, no.” Janet cradles his face in her baby-pink-manicured hands. Her prom dress, the same shade, is crumpled on the floor. “It’s so nice of you. Seriously. You’re like the cutest thing ever. It’s just, my parents, if they found out…” 
“Right, no, yeah. It’s fine, Jan.” Cooper cannot get out of there fast enough. He makes some awful excuse about how his own parents will be home soon and he needs to get back before he’s missed. 
Janet watches him get dressed, stops him before he can get out the door. She takes his hand and dusts his knuckles with a kiss. “Someday,” she says, rubbing his thumb. “I promise. I’ll give you one of my mine.” 
Feeling slightly more reassured, he kisses her goodbye. 
They break up three months later. Cooper signs up for the Marines.
6 - Agnes 
“I require all my clients to give me one of their threads.” Agnes has her thin hands folded on her desk, her lipstick a professional shade of red. Not a hair is out of place on her head. Her suit has lines so sharp they look like they could cut him. In other words, she strikes Cooper as a woman who knows what she’s doing. 
She’s still talking. “It’s a cutthroat industry out here, Mr. Howard. I have to be sure you really want this, and that means commitment. So you tell me.” She steeples her fingers, stares at him expectantly. “What are you willing to give?” 
Agnes Powell is not the first agent Cooper has met with. She’s not the third or the fourth or even the fifth. All of them had found something in him lacking – just not meant for the screen is the phrase haunting his nightmares.  
If he doesn’t sign with someone soon, it’s back to readjustment. That hasn’t been going so well for him, being a civilian. War had been bigger than life; he needs something to fill this new space inside him.   
He studies his hands. Five threads left. He’s still young, and he wants a family. Not for the first time, he wishes he’d been a little more discerning over the years. 
Agnes blinks, tilts her head. “Hollywood is the best step you’ll ever take, Mr. Howard, and I’m eager to take it with you. I think you’ve got talent; I really do. It’s just one little thread, right?” 
Cooper rubs the empty space around his left pinkie. One thread not to go back to his job as a bagger at the Super Duper Mart. One thread to potentially leave the mundanity of normal life behind. He’s given them up for less.
He reaches across the desk to shake Agnes’ hand. “Just one little thread,” he agrees.
7 - Sebastian Leslie
In his right mind, Cooper would never hand Sebastian one of his four remaining threads. Three hours of steady drinking and mindless celebration have driven him from his right mind. Agnes had come through – she’s gotten him a role and not just any role. A starring role. 
It’s a Western, which is not a genre he would’ve picked, but Sebastian had clapped him on the shoulder when he first hears. 
“They’re big, Coop. Trust me on this. You’re going to be huge.” Then he’d offered to buy him a drink, and Cooper had said why the hell not. 
Filming starts in a week, and he’s determined to spend most of the time not-sober. Sobriety gives him too much time to think about how he could fuck this up. It’s a lot easier to shed that self-doubt when the room is hot and swirling and Sebastian is in his ear pitching all sorts of storylines. 
The hero. The villain. The heartthrob. 
Cooper snorts. “Neither of us has the face for that.” 
Sebastian makes an obnoxious buzzer sound. “Wrong! Women flock to this face.” He frames his with a flourish. “It’s not about the features, it’s about the confidence. They love that shit.” 
“I’ll leave you to them,” Cooper laughs. He downs the next shot, which has somehow ended up in his hand. 
Slinging his arm over his shoulder, Sebastian clinks his own glass against Cooper’s newly empty one. “You play this right, Coop, you’re going to rule this town. Just do me a favor and take me along with you, yeah?”
“Sure I will.” Agnes had been right about everything – the industry was cutthroat, and he hasn’t managed to make a lot of friends out here. Sebastian is pretty much it. As far as Cooper can tell, he owes it to him to pay back that generosity.
Tequila-addled and high on imagined success, Cooper holds up his hand. “I’ll do you one better than a favor. I’ll make you a promise.” 
Sebastian stares at him dully for a moment before his eyes gleam with unshed tears. “You bastard,” he sniffs. “You know I’m an emotional drunk.” Half-sobbing, he pats Cooper on the chest, right over the heart, as he sticks his own in place. 
When Cooper wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache, he squints at the new line of red encircling his finger. Bleary memories of exchanging threads swim to the surface, and he sighs. Well. Shit. Old habits, it seems, die hard.
8 - Barbara 
Barbara laughs when he tells her about Janet. Her teeth and earrings gleam in the soft glow of their candlelit dinner. She holds her wine glass with an elegance he can’t help but admire. 
“Eighteen?” she echoes. “Absurdly young for a lifetime, don’t you think?” 
Cooper shrugs. “Yeah, well. I was an optimist.” He tilts his head toward where her fingers clutch the glass stem. “How about you? I’m almost afraid to ask how many spaces you’ve got left.” 
She takes a measured sip before setting her glass down precisely where it had been when she picked it up. “Six,” she tells him. 
“Wow.” Assuming her relationship with her parents is decent, that means she’s only given two away by her late twenties. “Some people might call that cold-hearted.” 
Barb slices into her steak. “I prefer to think of myself as selective.” She arches an eyebrow, as though challenging him to break through all of those restrictions, to be one of those she selects. 
Somehow, miraculously, he must because when he gets down on one knee, she accepts the ring and the thread he offers. She even gives him one of her own. 
It’s a few years later, and they’re sitting on a ridiculously large couch in the ridiculously large house he can afford. Barb reclines against his chest; he’s reading through the latest script Agnes has sent his way with his elbow propped against the back of the couch. 
Barb breaks the silence. “You know what I’ve been thinking?” 
“Mmm?” he hums, right in the middle of a monologue and only half-paying attention. “What’ve you been thinking?” 
She lifts one hand and examines the back of it. “It might be nice to have a new thread.” 
That gets his attention. “Oh yeah?” It takes a minute for understanding to dawn – then she turns on him with such a pair of bedroom eyes that it clicks into place. “Oh.” 
She runs her fingers over the back of his hand. “If you’ve got room, that is.” 
“Baby, I’ve got room for as many as you want,” Cooper says, already scooping her into his arms. “As long as it’s not more than two.” 
He carries her, laughing, to bed. 
A few more years, and Cooper is not so blinded by the lights of Hollywood anymore. Barb, however, seems to be capable of shielding her own eyes from whatever shit is going on at Vault-Tec. Things get more and more sour between them. The fault line in his heart grows bigger and bigger. 
Until it cracks open completely. 
He drives home in a haze, replaying the staticked voice of his wife as she proposed the end of the world. When he walks into the house, he stands for a minute in the living room, not moving, not thinking, just letting himself breathe in and out while he still can. This is going to hurt like a motherfucker. 
He doesn’t let himself do it immediately. He’s made enough rash decisions – this one deserves time. Two days later, he pulls the kitchen shears out of the knife block. 
Cooper is not entirely certain how one is supposed to do this. Eventually, he decides on clutching the thread between his teeth and stretching his arm as far out as it can get. Places the mouth of the scissors to the edge of the thread. Squeezes his eyes shut. And cuts. 
There’s so much pain, it’s like his other senses give up. His vision goes dark, and he collapses to the ground, the scissors clattering off somewhere. All he can hear is the rush of blood through his ears. For a minute, his heart beats so off-kilter, he worries he’s gone into cardiac arrest. But slowly, surely, it gets back to normal, and his eyesight comes back – blurred and imperfect, but good enough to let him stumble into his bedroom and collapse onto the mattress. Good enough for him to see the string that once shone scarlet is now a bitter, ugly black. 
9 - Janey 
Nobody’s perfect is an age-old adage that Cooper has heard dozens, if not hundreds, of times throughout his life from all sorts of people. Well, those people haven’t met his kid. The connection is instant. The very second she lands in his arms, he feels the ninth thread encircle his finger. 
He counts her fingers and toes, a perfect ten of each. He watches her flawless nose crinkle as she winds up for another round of wailing. 
“Good set of lungs on that one,” a nurse remarks as she bustles around him. 
Not good, Cooper would tell her if he could pay attention to anything other than Janey. Perfect. 
She is the one thread he never, not for one minute, regrets. 
THE GHOUL - ONE
10 - Lucy MacLean
The weeks after the bombs are hell. Cooper can’t tell which he’s sicker from: the radiation or the rapidly graying threads. Mrs. Abernathy goes first, then Janet, then Sebastian. He can’t help but imagine how they all died. The bomb for Mrs. Abernathy. Some desperate fucker guts Janet behind the shell of a grocery store. Sebastian doesn’t make it through the radiation poisoning.  
Grant and his mom are next. He does everything in his power not to think of what might have ended them. 
Agnes makes it a while. He’s become something else by the time her red runs out, something with rough skin and a body running on chemicals. Her survival makes sense to him – she’d always been a remarkably capable woman. 
Every day, he dreads the moment he opens his eyes. There is only one line of red left to him, and if it goes out, he’ll put a bullet in his head. 
The years go on, but he doesn’t change with them. The knowledge terrifies him – how long will he be around? He thought he’d be dead by eighty, but it comes and goes with no effect. He didn’t budget for this much existence. No matter how long he survives, the fact remains: he can make only one more connection. 
So he does a pretty damn good job at not making any. Can’t risk another Grant. Wouldn’t survive another Barb. Much easier to keep to himself and forget he ever even had the option.
Unfortunately, there’s a girl. He fully intends on killing her, but she talks like he hasn’t heard anyone talk for centuries, all sickly corporate. The stain of Vault-Tec is all over her. She’s a good opportunity, so he takes it, and he tries to ignore the little voice in the back of his head whispering that maybe he never has to really let her go. 
He ties her to him with everything he can think of that isn’t one of those damn threads. A cable, a lasso – hell, he even sews part of her onto him. That voice still won’t shut the fuck up. 
The worst part? He can’t even figure out the reason. What is it about her that makes him want to give her the last, shriveled part of him? She gave me the chems, he tells himself, but he knows that’s a lie. He should have shot her dead the second she tried to speak to him, and he hadn’t. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense. 
It’s no clearer to him when he sends a bullet ripping through Henry’s cheek. For himself, yes, but also for Lucy. He knows all too well what that kind of betrayal feels like. Wouldn’t be surprised if she cuts that particular thread as soon as she gets the chance. 
He holds out for as long as he can, but he’s never been a strong man. The second she shoots her mother instead of him, he feels the very last of his threads stretch between them. Permanent and maybe a mistake, but he’s hers now. 
He half-turns. Sure enough, a bridge of crimson stretches all the way to her heart. He asks if she’s coming with him. Relief fills him when she does. 
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moonstonerain · 10 hours
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I somewhat recovered from the devastating news of YoI Ice Ado cancellation, so to celebrate Yuri on Ice brings me joy day (which should be everyday) I'm writing down my headcanons.
The pets in the YoI universe have the general lifespan of their humans. Pets tend to die days before or after their owners died. Unless they have an accident, or a sickness (poor Vicchan). So essentially Makkachin is in fact immortal.
The YoI universe is kinder: there is no homophobia. I understand that sometimes exploring topics like these in fiction is important, but personally I think there is enough of that in the real world. So I want to believe in at least one universe where people are kinder. Viktor and Yuuri can get married anywhere in the world and it would be recognized. Nobody is bothered by the two being men.
Yuuri Katsuki is not a Viktor Nikiforov fan. He is THE Viktor Nikiforov fan. I'm talking fan accounts where he's protecting Viktor. The posters in his room are just the tip of the iceberg. He has hand fans, body pillows, limited edition bottle of water where Viktor did some promotion. One time he ordered a limited edition, signed poster from a "fan". (The person was thinking of ripping him of. And then he got an email. The only text read: his name, his address, his age, his social security number. Man was so scared he payed triple for ice show tickets, just to get the signed poster. Incidentally he also got invested in ice skating and found Yuuri Katsuki, Japan's ace. He's been a fan ever since.) After Viktor cut his long hair, Yuuri mourned for a few days and then layed waste on everyone on the internet who dared to complain about Viktor's decision.
All of Yuuri's fans, as well as all of Japan knows that Yuuri Katsuki is THE Viktor Nikiforov fan. Journalists that are usually ignored by Yuuri know that they only need to mention Viktor before Yuuri goes on a 30 minute tangent about his newest programs, his music, his outfits, that obscure program he did only once six years ago. If the journalist is brave, and willing to risk life and limb, they'll even add some sort of critiscism "Viktor's landing was a bit wobbly" Yuuri Avoider of Anything that Risks Conflict Katsuki: "First of all how dare you." 40 minutes later "I'm done! I'm done! ... And another thing!"
Yeah Yuri Plisetsky admires Viktor Nikiforov. He's ugh Viktor. But Yuri is a fan of one skater and one skater only and that is Yuuri Katsuki. I'm talking posters, hand fans, body pillows, limited edition sports drink Yuuri did some promotion for. He came to Hasetsu with one luggage, left with three filled to the brim with Katsuki merch. And a giant poster from the train station. When Viktor discovers Yuri's collection he is incredibly jealous.
Phicit, Yuuri, Leo, Guang-Hong Ji, Otabek, Emil, Michele, J.J., and Seung Gil have a group chat for gossip. While the group chat is used pretty frequently Seung Gil will only wildly appear once every blue moon, leave a devastating one liner and dissapear once again. Once Viktor goes to coach Yuuri the group has front rows to live updates: "omg Viktor just showed up buck naked at my parents' onsen" "ok so he asked if I want him to be my boyfriend. do you think this is code for something?" "He sure likes to be very touchy with me. very touchy. hmm silly europeans" "he just wants us to be close friends" the despair the others are feeling. after the live kiss, seung gil: "just friends huh. never lie to my face again bitch"
minami and yuri have beef. minami has a limited edition photo card that he brought with him to the juniors. yuri has another limited edition card that he also brought to juniros. they saw each others limited edition cards, argued which was superior, both incredibly jealous of the other. loathed each other since then.
yuuri was the first to give Viktor his blue roses crown. One time when Viktor was assigned to NHK Trophy Yuuri busted his entire allowance and some odd jobs to buy him the crown, to an exhorbitant price because roses are expensive, blue roses even more so, and a flower crown?! Yuuri was standing near the rink when Viktor saw him holding the crown. Viktor's heart melted, and he let Yuuri put the crown on him. ever since then Viktor was associated with blue roses. Years later a skating fan uncovered an old photo of yuuri putting the crown on viktor and posted it online. the skating world collectively lost their minds. at their wedding they each put a flower crown on top of each others heads.
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ruckis--rookie · 2 years
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Ey might take a few day hiatus. If I've been quiet I've come down with sumn that's got me basically bedridden, but the good news is that I'm sweaty and according to Clawdy that means I'm finally starting to break my fever.
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anthonycrowley · 10 months
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maybe book azcrow has been together for centuries but it just wasn’t relevant to adam’s journey
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daydadahlias · 7 months
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no but seriously the next person that makes a joke/comment about me fucking/dating my only guy friend because people 1) feel the need to press heteronormative bullshit onto every different-sex friendship and make the mass generalization that men and women always secretly want to fuck each other and 2) genuinely don’t view asexuality/aromanticism as valid and cannot comprehend how to be supportive and validating of it,, is going to get their shit rocked bc I’ve had about fucking enough of it :)
#no bc it’s happened to often#I’ve never really had guy friends tbh#like guy friends that were just mine#I’ve hung out in groups where guys were there but I’ve never had a guy friend that only me and him went and did things#bc I don’t feel safe around men uwu#but this year I’ve made a guy friend. and he’s super sweet and I really like him!! we have a great time hanging out and it’s purely platonic#he’s dating a girl and he knows I’m aroace and is totally chill with that !! so we have the understanding that I am genuinely INCAPABLE#of being into him. and he is NOT into me. we are just. friends.#but we go out to lunch/dinner and hang out and blah blah#and today we hung out to a few hours between classes and wandered around downtown and we bought matching stuffed mice lol#they’re so cute I love them#and I was showing off my mouse to people and happily explaining my day#and so many of my friends… all of my irl friends… were like#‘so you went on a date? so you’re into him? that’s a date sweetheart. you’re totally gonna get married and have babies with him’#like those are ALL things that friends actually said#and it just made me feel like actively nauseous#bc 1) the thought of it makes me sick and 2) the fact that my friends just. don’t care about my sexuality#and my expression that I’ve reiterated time and TIME again makes me crazy#bc I know that every single time i mention Caleb people are hopping on it and wanting me to date him#and this is another reason I’ve never had guy friends!!#like oh my gOd!! I’m not into men!! leave me the fuck alone!!!!!!#yeah it makes me really upset :)#that’s my complaint of the week sigh#it’s heteronormative BULLSHIT!!! and the permeation of sex into oit society!!!#some of us don’t want to fuck our guy friends!!!!#leave me alone or be fucking nice to me#nobody would make jokes if I got matching mice with a woman#I HAVE matching stuffed animals with women!! it’s just something I do with FRIENDS#why are different sex friendships different#die maybe have u considered that
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Various images of things
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. PIBBINS.... cheering clapping hooting hollering glorious applause everytime I see a pigeon in public#2. Birthday card that I drew for someone. .. kittys...#3. 2023's annual haul of tiny white pumpkins.. i get at least one white pumpkin every year around fall when they have pumpkins in stores#because I just love the color and texture ... bright white and smooth and cold and round.. kind of like a volleyball or something#4. A brief adventure into watching big brother (only earlier seasons of course as I hate all reality shows post like 2013 or something when#they became overly focused on social media and overproduced memeable phrases more.. like even though ALL reality shows have always#been extremely fake and annoying and mindless it's like..... newer stuff seems A Different Kind Of Fake or something) since whenever#I'm sick sometimes I find weird mindless things like that to watch (that one time I had bronchitis I watched all of Flavor of Love in my#half awake illness stupor and now everytime I heat up canned minestrone soup (mostly all I ate that week) I think of flavor flav since#thats just a weird brain connection I have now lol) ANYWAY.. I was sick and watched like 2 seasons of this and then thought it was too#uninteresting and obnoxious to continue (more like 1 and a half since I skipped the rest of one once only boring people were left) BUT this#one guy had a very mischevious looking face and he also said a few things (like the above captioned speech) that sounded like dialogue#some fantasy character would say.. so I took a screencap of him and edited him into a mischevious wizard i guess.?? idk I was sick lol#~your little friend has a poisoned tongue~ is just a very unexpectedly serious sounding wording for some random normal#frat dude looking guy to say while casually chatting on a reality tv show in like 2008 or whenever that was filmed lol#5. FLUFFY CLOVERS!! I'd never seen them be furry and soft before?? inchresting..#6. Noodle sitting in bed with the cat figurines looming above him... the council of kittys...#7. McDonald's full breakfast platter + asparagus + strawberries & cream (also of course this is old and I am now boycotting mcdonalds etc)#i try to group the images somewhat consistently like.. winter stuff with winter stuff or summer stuff with summer stuff#but I have so many random pictrues floating around on my computer that I never post that sometimes some are not organized or just#thrown into a set because there's nowhere else for them. Like the pigeon picture is from like 3 years ago for example lol#8 & 9 - I think I've posted these before but I just find them very interesting looking flowers. whenever they happen to be blooming#I'll pick up a few when I'm out on walks or etc. ... poof ball looking things#photo diary
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wherela · 1 year
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they should invent a friend for me who doesn't randomly stop talking to me for no reason
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pleuvoire · 5 months
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it kills me that covid rapid tests are just not really reliable.... on a society-wide scale it's harmful but also just not knowing how many times i've had covid kills me. i wanna KNOW
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alphalesbian · 11 months
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.
#its like every now and again i am brought down by a terrible loneliness and am forced to remind myself i have in fact more or less#been alone in some sense of the word for more than a few years now theres been such incredible lengths of my lived adulthood where ive#been to deal with everything on my plate entirely by myself for the most part. not to say that i have been like Alone ive kept busy and all#but sometimes i have to remind myself its been years and years since ive had what i would call even some kind of community. and its a#necessary pain to reflect that That is probably why routinely i am completely leveled by some loneliness. this goes of course without sayin#a lot of this is circumstance why i would maybe end up so alone but the reality is im often the only one who gets me im often the only ear#can open up to im often the only one there to catch myself slipping the only one there to take care of myself when im hurting or sick or#tired. and its not that i dont ask for help. something something circumstance where i dont get it from other people#hardly a thing worth stopping myself over but the moments where i have to pick myself up by my own bootstraps for the nth time completely i#the dark by myself its hard not to feel small. looked past. even though im really doing quite okay all things considered. still quite#unfortunately alone and equally isolated and drained of any energy to change this or get out and find community (if i had the space and#the time and the money of course dont forget about the money)#and at the deepest reaches of this feeling i can only see cosmically that this is what im supposed to be doing. to some strange effect that#I Am at least on the right path as tucked away small and hidden and invisible as this may make me feel. bc its never a hard contrast to mak#that if i did have the ability to truly embrace and make a change in that regard would i? would i do it right? could i keep it? where would#that take me? and of course the answer is in this state id just fumble it. and be right back here#when do i get to have that fire in my hands unequivocally where i may finally furiously rid myself of this isolation this loneliness either#forever or long enough to make the change from this lack of connection and community i truly have?
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that-house · 4 months
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
9K notes · View notes
umilily · 8 months
Text
a year ago my friend wanted to visit me… and got covid.
this weekend we wanted to go on a little trip together… and she got covid.
0 notes
hoshigray · 7 months
Text
𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
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“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder. 
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
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certifiablyinsanez · 10 days
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I am haunted by the detailed, completed map of Hell that Edwin took notes on. You don’t understand, it makes me sick. It’s one thing to have a basic layout, a vague idea, or a rudimentary map but it was meticulously detailed. Down to doors and what they do and where they go. Down to secret spaces in the walls. He even knew what ringing an innocuous bell would do. It can only mean one thing. We don’t know when Edwin began trying to escape, but assuming he started from the get go, it means that he spent all his decades in Hell trying to find a way out. He never stopped running. And that is assuming he never stopped. From his second trip, we could see he resorted to his old ways and ran. But he was eventually caught, reduced to pieces. Even when Charles showed up, he didn’t seem very optimistic about their chances. He could feel every second of those 70 years. There were likely many times he fell to hopelessness, trembling in the corner watching himself be desecrated knowing it was going to happen again and again. How long? How many times did he try to be so, so quiet, hoping he would have a few moments before the next round? How many times did he muster the ability to run, just one more time? How long did it take him to run, discovering the ends of each ring? How many times did he sprint up, down, north, south, east, west, trying to escape? And what happened when he finally escaped? How long did it take for him to be able to relax, even a little? Because he can never relax. He must always outrun Death and her constituents because he can’t count on them to be fair. How many times does he look over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to claim its eternal meal once again? His breath of fresh air, his first taste of companionship in ages not only keeps him company, but sticks by him. And then, in that blessing there comes a curse, because now you have something to lose. Because when you taste ambrosia how can you return to starvation? He feels safe with Charles. Happy and comfortable, but the threat always lingers. And he knows that Charles couldn’t fend off Death. He never considered he could fend off Hell beasts; after all, he’s just a ghost kid. He watches innocents be slaughtered on repeat, unphased by the level of violence but no less affected by it, because no one has even a clue what it takes to be this kind. Even at his most happy, he has so, so much to lose and he goes back to Hell when hope was dangled in his face like the fruit of Tantalus. When he returns, he’s subjected to Hell once again, sustaining through torture that obliterates souls, only to watch his best friend, his confidant, his platonic soulmate, die horrifically. This woman who gave him sea-glass courage, so powerful and yet so fragile. Allowed him to be himself, gave him permission to do so. Was the openness to his closed self, and now she is gone. And he retains his composure, his stiff, British posture because it is what has saved him from madness and Despair, protected him, and now the world is darker without Niko Sasaki in it. But surely he saw this coming. After all, humans are messy. And yet, he shows up for their souls, time and time again.
Edwin Payne is THE character.
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rebelspykatie · 8 months
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Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 
The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 
But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 
So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 
Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 
He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 
Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.
After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 
Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 
He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 
He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.
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