#instead of me feeling numb and bad occasionally i feel GOOD with bad occasionally

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 47]

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After discovering Asra the crobat's fate, Tobias and Nia head east to seek out Edme. Along the way, memories are shared.

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Tobias is vaguely aware of Nia leading them back to the road. She coaxes him into sitting against a rock on the side of the dirt path, and while she keeps an eye out for a ride he stares blankly out at the desert as night falls. His emotions and thoughts ebb away along with the desert’s heat.

Eventually, she manages to stop a cart pulled by a pair of tauros, and tugs Tobias up into the back of the cart with her. Her paws on his arm are freezing, and that’s the thing that reels Tobias back, just a bit. He sits against the side of the cart and doesn’t say anything when Nia presses her cold fur against his side.

The ride is silent, for a while. Nothing but the steady clomping of the tauros’ hooves and the gentle creaking of the cart. The occasional howl of wind. Nia’s chattering teeth slowly fall quiet as she warms up.

Tobias stares at the goods in front of him. They’re stacked in bags and crates in dark, ambiguous lumps, lit faintly by the moon and his own small tail flame. He’s holding their satchel in his lap, absently kneading it with his claws.

Distantly, he notes Nia sending him worried, probing glances. He doesn’t meet her eyes. He doesn’t want to talk right now. He doesn’t want to think, either. He doesn’t feel the raging fury or the devastating grief from earlier, but all that’s left in their wake is a sort of numbness. He feels tired. Empty.

The night rolls by, calm and quiet. Tobias should probably be grateful that they don’t have to fight off any bandits. That would give him something to do, but right now he can’t guarantee that he wouldn’t space out mid-battle and make a stupid mistake.

Nia clears her throat. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tobias stares at her without really seeing. He feels irritation spike in him before snuffing out just as fast. He shrugs and plants his chin down in his arms.

Nia takes her time responding. Hours worth of time, if the slow lift of the moon into the sky is anything to gauge by.  Tobias thinks he dozes off a few times, since the stars seem to tick by in leaps rather than at a crawl. Or maybe he’s just spacing out.

Throughout the night, Nia shifts restlessly. She opens her mouth countless times before closing it again. Tobias ignores her, lost in a tired haze. Maybe he should just go back to sleep for now. He still feels exhausted from his earlier blow-up.

It’s near midnight when Nia finally speaks, voice soft. “Would it help if I talked about something?”

Tobias shrugs again. He doesn’t particularly care either way.

Nia eyes him, deep in thought. “I…if you don’t want to hear about this, then tell me and I’ll stop. But I know you were wondering before and, well—“

Tobias grunts an impatient sound.

A pause. “I know it’s not—not anywhere near the same, but when I miss my family, it helps for me to think about them. I-I mean, it hurts too, but…I didn’t ever tell you about them, did I?”

Tobias finally looks at Nia, curious despite himself. He’s kind of surprised she brought this up now, instead of avoiding the topic like a pitfall, but it’s the first thing drudging up a sense of anything from the numbness that has settled over him. Even if that something feels sharp and painful.

“Would…you like me to? Tell you about what I remembered about my family? I-I don’t have to. I know after, uh, everything, you probably don’t want to have to think about—“

Tobias tunes Nia’s nervous rambling out. The thought of hearing about Nia’s family makes the terrible ache in his chest threaten to return, and he isn’t sure it won’t spiral from there. But…he does want to know. And maybe she can distract him from the bad thoughts he logically knows he’s keeping at bay across a moat of static and empty thoughts. No telling when those will break through.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, moving his gaze back across the cart and past it, to the moonlit expanse of the desert.

Nia still hesitates. Then, she takes a deep breath and says, “I had…dreams about them. When I was sick. More like memories, but…it was like I was there with them. My mom and my brother. Toni.”

Tobias blinks. “Toni?”

Nia smiles wistfully, relaxing a bit. “Yeah. I guess she’s not my family by blood, but she’s my best friend.” After a beat she hastily adds, “In the human world.”

Tobias doesn’t respond.

“She’s always been the brave one between us. But she made me feel braver too. Pushed me out of my comfort zone, helped me try new things. Although she does get us into trouble sometimes. Her mouth moves quicker than her head when she’s upset.”

Tobias snorts, though it’s weak. “Sounds like an annoying rookidee I know.”

“Oh. Oh wow, yeah, her and Junie would get along like a house on fire.”

“They’re never allowed to meet.”

That startles a laugh out of Nia. Tobias’ mouth twitches. “My mom loves her. Toni’s basically her second daughter.”

Tobias’ throat closes up as he thinks of his own mom. Of soft humming and a toothy grin and bright blue eyes, a mirror image to his own.

“Your mom?” Tobias rasps, a desperate sort of prompt.

Nia casts him a worried look, hesitating, but something about his expression must urge her on. “My mom is…really sweet. She’s a lot like Maggie, actually! Funny too, but she had to be stricter with us than she would’ve liked since she had to raise us on her own.”

Tobias’ brow furrows. What about her father? He doesn’t want to ask in case he’s gone but—

Nia must see the question on his face. She shrugs with a wry little smile. “He died when I was an infant, so I never really got to meet him. I could tell Mom and Clay missed him, but I never really knew him to miss him.”

Tobias isn’t sure if he should apologize or…what the proper response would be for that.

Luckily, Nia keeps talking, tipping her head back to look up at the stars. “I guess I always missed the chance to have a dad? And the person I was told he was. But that’s about it. Although Clay was definitely more protective of me because our dad was gone.”

“Clay?”

“Oh.” Nia glances at him, almost nervously, before focusing again on the sky. “Yeah, he’s…he’s my brother.”

Tobias’ breath catches, surprise warring with a sudden pang in his chest. “You had—you have a brother?”

“…Yeah. I think you two would get along really well, actually. Once I remembered Clay, it made a lot more sense why I latched onto Xander so quickly—“

Tobias makes a weak attempt at a scoff. “If he’s like Xander then we would not get along.”

Nia laughs, shaking her head. “No, they’re really different. I think it was just the protective big brother instincts that felt familiar to me. Clay is more chill. A bit of a jokester, actually. Like Ezra or Junie.”

Tobias gives her a dry look, hoping to convey that he’s even less convinced they would get along.

Nia laughs again. “Okay, he’s not exactly like either of them. You remind me a lot of him too! I just…see bits and pieces of him in different people, y’know?”

Tobias thinks of the shinx kids and orange scales and big eyes full of childish joy, gold then green, and his heart twinges. “…Yeah.”

“Other than Toni, Clay is my best friend,” Nia whispers. “I miss him. He always makes stupid jokes and distracts me if I’m sad.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, swallowing against a lump in his throat. He’d distract Vivi when she was upset, too. They’d paint the cave walls with homemade berry paint, or go out on mountain trails to explore. He couldn’t resist her teary eyes and she knew it.

Nia chuckles. Tobias sends her a questioning look.

“Sorry, I just remembered when Clay hid wasabi in my toast. He liked to mess with me, too. One second he’d be a protective brother bear and the next he’d make me spit out my breakfast.”

Tobias doesn’t know what wasabi is, but he gets the gist. He snorts. “It’s part of the big brother code. Occasionally you just have to lie about stupid stuff to mess with your younger sibling.”

“You would take his side! I bet your sister was—oh. Um."

Nia snaps her mouth shut with a click. Her ears pin back as she looks to Tobias with wide eyes. As if knowing that she’s crossing a line by mentioning his sister out loud.

For a moment, Tobias isn’t sure how he feels. He feels like he should be angry, territorial of Nia even mentioning Vivi. That’s forbidden ground, not meant to be thought of and certainly not meant to be mentioned.

But…Tobias is thinking of Vivi now as he did when she was alive, instead of the usual haunting image of her lifeless body. He’s thinking of her not with the usual crushing guilt, but instead with the fond annoyance he held for her when they were kids and he was just her older brother. Protective, sure, but not the literal barrier between life and death.

Strangely, it feels…nice.

Tobias swallows. “Vivi was…I would get so annoyed by her sometimes. When she wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Saying it feels like a confession of some horrible sin. Like he doesn’t deserve to say anything bad about her, when he let her die. But some part of him feels lighter, too, and Nia doesn’t look disgusted with him. If anything, she looks a little awed, eagerly drinking in his words.

Tobias looks down at his fists, consciously relaxing them. He takes a shuddering breath. “But she was my best friend, too. Not much to do on an isolated mountain aside from get into trouble together.”

“You lived on a mountain?” Nia whispers, spellbound.

Tobias nods. “Way up, where the air was thin and the clouds were below us sometimes. One day Vivi wouldn’t shut up so I convinced her that they were actually really big Pokemon who would attack us if she didn’t quiet down.”

Nia barks a laugh. “Clay did the same thing with me! Well, he told me clouds were made of cotton candy. I was so upset when I found out he lied that I cried for an hour. Mom went out and bought actual cotton candy from the nearest gas station just to calm me down. To be fair, I was two.”

Tobias smiles. He doesn’t really know what Nia looked like as a human—let alone a little human—so he pictures a tiny riolu pup instead, pouting with big ruby eyes.

“Told you, it’s the rule. Older siblings have to mess with their younger siblings at least a little.”

“I bet Xander never does,” Nia counters.

“Xander is literally the least fun Pokemon I’ve ever met.”

Nia pushes him with a scolding, “Tobias! Be nice!” The rebuke is ruined by her laughter, though.

Tobias grins at her, not the slightest bit remorseful. “He’s a good brother, but as company? A rock could do better. Not a geodude, but an actual, lifeless rock.”

Nia laughs harder. “Be nice! He has three little hellions to watch over!”

Tobias scoffs. “Please. Vivi got into three times the trouble with a third of the body weight.”

“Oh?” Nia asks, trying to catch her breath.

Tobias nods, trying to remember the worst offenses. He’s purposefully avoided thinking about this kind of stuff, about Vivi and his parents, for years. But it’s surprisingly easy to filter through his memories, and his chest only hurts a little as he thinks.

“Okay, so listen to this one. Every week or so our parents flew us down to one of the towns at the foot of the mountain range, right?” Tobias says. “To pick up food and supplies and let us play with other kids.”

Nia nods, leaning in closer to listen.

“Mom was a mail ‘mon,” Tobias says, clearing his throat when his voice catches. “So she knew everyone. But we had to stop by someone’s house to drop off an instrument my dad had made for them. Some kind of flute or something.”

Tobias shifts in place, feeling as if he’s dusting off his own brain. A strange mixture of mirth and heartache mixes in his chest. He doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry, so he makes a sound somewhere in the middle.

“Our dad was kind of a quiet guy, and he never complained. But this customer? He complained about him. About how much of a jerk he was and how he always had something to critique just because he didn’t like Dad. But he was rich and always paid up, so Dad must’ve figured he’d deal with the bad attitude.”

Nia nods.

“So Dad makes the guy his flute. What I didn’t know—what no one but Vivi knew—was that earlier that day Vivi had tried playing the shiny new instrument herself when Dad and I took a nap after lunch.”

“Oh no,” Nia whispers.

“Yup. And she also tried playing it when she had hiccups,” Tobias continues, giving Nia a dry look. “You can imagine what happens when a fire type gets the hiccups.”

Nia’s mouth drops. “No!”

Tobias bites back a laugh. “Yeah, she hiccupped and caught the thing on fire. Put it out, panicked, and stashed the piece of kindling back in its box like it was still good as new.”

Nia’s giggling now, and Tobias can’t help grinning with her. “No! Wait, so your dad—?”

“As far as he knew, it was in perfect condition when he put it in its box that morning! I thought Vivi seemed quiet on the trip down, but it wasn’t until the client pulled out the flute that we realized something was wrong.”

“What happened?!”

Tobias leans forward, grinning. “Okay, so this snooty gumshoos pulls out the flute, right? And the thing is charred. It is crumbling to pieces in his paws.”

Nia snorts, paws moving up over her snout.

“And this gumshoos, he looks at my dad and says—” Here Tobias straightens up and adopts a snooty expression. “‘How do you expect me to play this?! I knew you were far from an expert but this is nothing more than garbage, blah blah blah.’ And Vivi, Vivi takes one look at me and Dad and realizes that she’s definitely getting in trouble for this, and after he’s badmouthing Dad we all kind of hate him, so she might as well make this disaster funny.”

“No!” Nia shrieks, delighted.

“So Vivi steps forward, half this guy’s height, grabs the flute, and chipper as can be says, ‘You play it like this, mister!’ And she tweets the loudest, most ear-screeching note I’ve ever heard, and the flute just. Disintegrates. Just falls apart right there on this guy’s fancy rug.”

Nia cackles, loud in the night air.

Tobias laughs along with her. “A-And at this point it is dead silent in the house. And Vivi, this little brat, she turns around with the most serious expression I’ve ever seen and says, ‘I think it might need a tune-up.’”

Nia’s almost crying she’s laughing so hard, wiping at her eyes. “She didn’t.”

“She did!” Tobias stresses, laughing too. Laughing harder than he can remember doing so in…a while. “She got us kicked out of there so fast. If you think I’m bold, Vivi was a whole other story! I could tell even Dad thought it was hilarious despite losing a customer—and Mom even more so, she lost it, she always said how it wasn’t worth working for that guy—but they still had to punish Vivi somehow, so she was grounded. No flying for a whole week.”

Nia howls with laughter. “Literally grounded!”

Tobias snorts, wiping at his eyes. “Well, duh. What else would ‘grounded’ mean?”

Nia only laughs harder, trying to catch her breath in little bursts of giggles.

“C-Clay would’ve loved that,” Nia says. “He was always getting into trouble. Usually he’d drag me along and then we’d both have to face the music. I started forming a natural defense of, ‘I don’t know what’s happening here and I don’t want to know,’ but he’d just drag me along anyways and promised that I’d love it.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow. “Did you?”

“Literally not a single time. And half the time he’d try to pin it on me! One weekend him and his friends made this terrible ramp out of metal and plywood and cardboard so he could launch himself and his bike into the lake. Insisted I be there for it, like, ‘C’mon, you’ve gotta see it!’ No, that just means I’m complicit when Mom interrogates you about your missing bike!”

Tobias snorts. “Did he get in trouble for it?”

“Oh, big time. He had to use my pink tricycle with rainbow streamers when he wanted to go riding with his friends, since Mom refused to buy him a new bike. His knees hit the handlebars.”

Tobias looks up, thoughtful. “I guess I pinned a few things on Vivi, especially when she was little and I didn’t really like her yet. One time I swore she was the one who climbed on top of the storage cabinets and ate all the coal cookies.”

“Oh?”

“Would’ve been a better defense if she was old enough to crawl.”

Nia grins. “That sounds like one of my plans. Okay, so this one time, we wanted to look like a couple of cartoon characters for a game we were playing, right? So we decided we’d use markers to make these giant rainbow stripes on our faces and arms and legs. I suggested we use permanent markers so they’d stay on longer, and I mean, I wasn’t wrong. But Mom didn’t appreciate that when she was trying to scrub ink off our arms and we looked like we had a disease.”

“We did the same thing with berry paint!” Tobias laughs. “We wanted to make ourselves into ‘shinies’ and stained our scales purple for days. Do you know how hard it is to stain your skin so much even a fire bath won’t burn the color away?”

The last of their laughter dies down. Nia’s smile slowly fades into something a bit more downcast. Bittersweet. She lifts her chin to look up at the moon.

“I miss him,” Nia murmurs.

Tobias hums, the familiar pain in his chest resurfacing. He tips his head back to follow her gaze, looking up at the stars. He thinks of Vivi’s berry-stained face, framing bright green eyes and a toothy little grin. “Yeah.”

It’s quiet again.

This is the first time Tobias can remember really talking about his family since the incident, and a part of his heart feels like it’s being lanced through with sharp claws. But somehow, despite the pain, he also feels leagues better than when they’d boarded the cart. After talking, it feels like he can breathe again. At least a little.

He hasn’t thought of Vivi or his parents like that in years. Happy and smiling. Alive.

“Thanks,” Tobias murmurs.

“‘Course. Thanks for telling me. And letting me talk.”

The two of them fall silent again, and Tobias closes his eyes. He listens to the sounds around them, the creak of the wheels and the heavy steps of the tauros.

“Sooo…”

Tobias knows that tone. He rolls his head to raise a brow at Nia. “What.”

“I was just thinking. It sounds like you’ve got music in your blood, if your dad made instruments. And you can’t let Vivi show you up, so…am I going to get to hear you play that guitar you got from Granite, or..?”

The words are lighthearted, but gentle. As if Nia can sense that music is a touchy subject for him so she’s giving him an out. Tobias appreciates it.

“It wouldn’t be good. I haven’t played anything in…years. And it isn’t even the same instrument I was learning.”

Nia hums. “It’s not like I’d be any better. Pretty sure I was tone-deaf in the human world. I just…I’d like to hear it, if you ever want to try.”

Tobias doesn’t answer, stopping himself for all of ten seconds before hesitantly opening the satchel in his lap. He stares down at the sleek neck of the little guitar, its strings shining in the moonlight. His fingers twitch, itching to hold it.

Nia studiously keeps her head tipped back and her eyes closed, but Tobias can tell she’s listening. Waiting to see what he’ll do. In the end, it’s her easy acceptance of whatever decision he makes that pushes him to act.

Tobias pulls out the little guitar, setting it across his lap. Something about the sensation of sleek wood against his skin, of the shape settling against him, immediately brings to mind a flash of the past. Being held by his father, feeling the low rumble of his voice as he guided Tobias’ claws and showed him which strings to pluck. The memory hurts, but it’s warm too. Like a too-hot sip of delicious soup.

Tobias gently strums his claws across the strings, and Nia winces. The instrument, predictably, is horribly out of tune. He hesitantly gets to work putting the guitar back in order, hoping he’s remembering the basics of the process right. He needs to see if the guild has a guide he can reference when they eventually head back.

Still, even with his halfhearted attempts, Tobias gets the instrument into semi-working order. He takes another experimental strum and is satisfied when Nia doesn’t flinch away from the sound this time. Tobias tries plucking a few cords, long-buried memories rising to mind of learning scales and nursery rhymes. After a few clunky starts and stops, he starts to recall the right order and rhythm of the basic movements.

His fingers almost seem to move of their own accord, slowly building up a different tune, something gentle and sweet. It takes him a few minutes to realize what melody it is: a lullaby, once so familiar but now dancing at the edge of his mind like whispers in the wind. He blinks back a sudden rush of hot tears, trying to follow the notes of his patchy memory. There are too many moments where he has to pause, entire chunks of the song forgotten, and jump ahead to a different line. But it’s there, in bits and pieces.

When his fingers still, stinging from pulling at the wire without any callouses built up, Nia finally looks at him. She’s beaming. “I loved that!”

Tobias snorts. “It was terrible.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t love it.”

He flicks her leg with his tail and gets back to work adjusting the strings and testing out the cords again. “I was trying to play an old lullaby my mom would sing. Can’t remember all the notes, though.”

“Oh. Well…you can fill in the gaps, right?”

Tobias hesitates. He…supposes he can. Some part of him feels like that’s wrong, like it’s desecrating his mom’s memory. But…what else can he do? Leave gaping blank spaces throughout the melody? He doesn’t know where he would find the original song, so wouldn’t it be better to fill it up with something new until it’s whole again?

Tobias stretches out his hand before going back to his music.

It’s not until later, when Nia has started humming along to the melody he’s trying to solidify, that he remembers something he wanted to bring up.

“Hey. Before, back in Asra. After the mission.”

Nia sits up and tilts her head at him, expression curious and open.

“You…wanted to invite Samir to join our team. Right?”

Nia cringes. “Yeah. I’m sorry for springing that on you so suddenly. I realized right after I suggested it that it was probably a pretty big decision we’d need to decide together. Was what I said okay? About Samir coming to the Lexym Guild?”

Tobias nods. “Yeah. Arceus knows Samir deserves a better situation than whatever they’ve got going on out here. And August would make sure they got that.”

There’s a moment of hesitation as Nia looks at him. “So…how would you feel? About Samir possibly joining our team in the future?”

Tobias’ immediate impulse is a no. But the guitar under his fingers gives him something do while he thinks. He strums idly at it, trying to slow down his thought process and question why his immediate reaction is so vehement.

“Samir worked well with us,” Tobias agrees, slowly. Grudgingly. “I think they round out our team well.”

“Me too!” Nia agrees, eyes sparkling. “But..?”

Tobias takes a moment longer to stall. Because he knows why he’s hesitating and it’s, quite frankly, embarrassing. Sure, he’d be hesitating anyways just because it’s a big deal basically signing on to be life partners with someone. But he knows the main reason.

His gaze drifts up to meet Nia’s. She’s watching him patiently with ruby red eyes. He flushes and looks away. How can he say that he doesn’t want it to be anyone else but the two of them without it sounding horribly desperate?

“I’d just be worried,” Tobias eventually says, awkward and stilted. “About the team dynamic changing.”

Nia’s expression softens. “That’s understandable. I thought maybe you just didn’t like them or something.”

Tobias snorts. “Oh, they’re annoying all right. But most Pokemon are.”

Nia laughs, sitting back to look out at the passing scenery. Everything is bathed in silver moonlight. “You know, I don’t think you’d have to worry too much about what we’ve got here changing.”

Tobias gives Nia a prompting look.

“I mean…we’re around a lot of different people every day, right?” Nia says. She looks back to him with a warm smile. “But that’s never stopped us from getting along. It’s still always me and you at the end of the day, right? We’re partners. That wouldn’t change.”

Tobias’ fingers stumble over the cords as he stares back, feeling his face heat even as something anxious in his chest settles.

What does he say to something like that?

Luckily, Nia seems equally embarrassed after her words register. She hurriedly looks away. “I’m just saying, you know? It’d still be us. Just…with more friends along for the ride. More people watching our backs.”

Tobias swallows and rips his gaze away, back to the guitar as he tries to find his place. He still feels jittery and embarrassed, but in a pleased sort of way.

“Right. I…guess I wouldn’t be against it. If Samir wants to.”

Nia is clearly thrilled at that, tail thudding happily against the wood of the cart. She smiles and looks back out at the desert.

Tobias could see it, actually. Vaguely. Him and Nia and Samir, maybe a fourth ‘mon. Catching the pangoro and arcanine and continuing on to become top-tier Seekers. The world will need them more than ever, with the slow increase in mystery dungeons and other phenomena cropping up. And Nia—

Nia…isn’t planning on staying, once she finds a way home.

Tobias’ hand falters. Nia’s ears twitch at the jarring sound, and she glances at him. Something on his face makes her sit up.

“You’re going back to the human world, once you find a way home,” Tobias whispers. He doesn’t like how his voice shakes.

There’s a loaded silence left in the wake of his words. Nia’s mouth opens and closes as she blinks at him with wide, off-guard eyes. Tobias regrets bringing it up. Wishes he’d just kept his mouth shut and not ruined the peace that had fallen over them.

“Hey,” Nia finally says, voice tentative. She puts a paw on his arm until he looks up at her, then continues with a strained smile. “You never know. Maybe we’ll find a way to go back and forth or something! So that way I can come back here and visit, but still live with my family in the human world.”

Something in Tobias’ chest clenches. Because even Nia, ever the optimist, doesn’t sound very hopeful about such an easy answer. And because the selfish part of Tobias doesn’t want Nia to leave, at all. Even temporarily. He wants his partner here, with him.

Is that why she’s pushing to bring Samir on? So he isn’t left a pathetic, lonely mess all on his own when she leaves? Hah. Like he’d stay on a team with just him and Samir. Tobias doesn’t want to be a Seeker at all if Nia isn’t his teammate.

Tobias shoves the ugly thoughts and the grief already boiling under his skin further down. Bottle it up, Tobias. You’ve had enough meltdowns for today.

In the end, all he says is a quiet, much less convincing, “Maybe.”

He dives back into his music, but can’t help thinking that the notes sound colder now, somehow. Sharper. Nia must be able to tell he doesn’t want to talk anymore—or maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it, either—because she sighs but falls silent.

One moment. Two.

Nia scoots closer. Then, she leans heavily against him and plops her head onto his shoulder.

Tobias tenses. “What—“

“Could you just…play some more?” Nia asks, quiet. “Music calms me down.”

Tobias pauses. He has a feeling she actually wants him to play to make himself feel better, but it would probably work. So Tobias grumbles quietly, comforted despite himself by the warm, soft weight leaning against him. He goes back to playing, and readjusts the instrument to accommodate Nia on his shoulder and in his elbow space. She taps her fingers along to the melody, likely as lost in thought as he is.

The moon sinks overhead as the hours pass.

Tobias must fall asleep eventually, because he finds himself back in his family’s cave, beneath the warm tent of his Papa’s wing with Vivi asleep at his side. A melody is still being hummed somewhere nearby, near the front entrance of their home, the voice a bit off-key but familiar enough to be soothing.

This time around, Toby recognizes the old lullaby for what it is, even when the song skips over the parts he doesn’t recall.

Toby shifts, trying to get comfortable. Vivi snuffles in her sleep, pushing her head into the crook of his neck. Normally, Toby would push her away. This time, for some reason, he lets her be. Her soft breaths puff warm and soothing against his skin.

Papa shifts, getting more comfortable in his own nest, and Toby can tell by the quiet way he moves that he’s still awake.

“Papa?” Toby whispers.

Papa stills, then rumbles a quiet, questioning noise that Tobias can feel in his chest.

“Did the clouds go away? Are the stars out yet?” Maybe if they are, Toby can go and sit with Mama until he gets sleepy again.

Papa doesn’t answer, but he does turn to duck his head under his own wing. In the warm, dim light cast by Toby and Vivi’s tails, Papa’s face comes into view. Somehow, it feels like Toby hasn’t seen him in forever, and he’s transfixed by the crystal-clear clarity of his features. Bright green eyes that he passed on to Vivi. Sleek but powerful edges to his jaw and horns. His mouth is curled into a warm, sleepy smile, his lower fangs peeking out.

For some reason, the sight makes Toby’s chest ache. His breath hitches.

“You’re all right,” Papa says, nuzzling him.

“I don’t know why I’m sad,” Toby murmurs, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

“That’s all right. Sometimes we don’t know. It will pass.”

Tobias wakes with a start, throat tight and eyes wet. He blinks rapidly against a cloudy pre-dawn sky and sits up, trying to figure out where he is. The warm weight that was on his shoulder whines as it’s displaced, and Tobias looks down to see a sleepy Nia curl up against the side of the cart with a disgruntled expression.

“Oi! You awake back there? We’re taking you north with us if you don’t get up. Storm’s rolling in.”

Tobias jumps, realizing now that the loud voice must have been what woke him. It takes a moment for him to place where he is and who the voice must belong to, coming from the front of the cart. They’ve stopped moving.

“We’re up,” Tobias calls back, clearing his throat. “Where are we?”

“Near the Lilycap River. The riolu said you needed to get to the swamps around Eastern Metreja. The river is the best way to do that.”

Tobias had completely forgotten that they didn’t even have their specific destination figured out. Great. Well, hopefully someone can help them find Edme, or at least the Hollowberry Inn Nia had connected to the mysterious Pokemon.

Tobias takes a moment to scrub at his face and shake off the dregs of sleep. Then he looks at his partner and sighs. Nia is hard to wake on the best of mornings, let alone after an emotionally draining day and a long night spent awake. But they need to get going now if the tauros’ impatient tone is anything to gauge by.

Tobias shakes the riolu, ignoring her sleepy whines of protest. “C’mon, Nia. We gotta go.”

Nia growls and buries her face against a sack of rice. Tobias rolls his eyes and shakes her harder, until she cracks open her eyes, clearly irritated.

“What?”

“We gotta go. We’re here and the tauros wanna keep moving.”

Nia groans but must know that Tobias will only wake her again if she tries to go back to sleep. Slowly, she drags herself into a sitting position, rubbing at her eyes and yawning big enough to show off sharp teeth. Tobias nudges her until she groans and stumbles to her feet.

Tobias gathers their satchel and the guitar. Then, he drags himself over the side of the cart and to the ground. Nia stumbles down after him, following him to the front of the cart where the two tauros are waiting impatiently, tails lashing.

“Thank you for the ride,” Nia yawns. The normal types look a bit soothed by the thanks.

“D’you know which way to go from here to get to the river?” Tobias asks, squinting into the pre-dawn darkness. He thinks he can see a smaller footpath and hear a low, constant noise in the distance.

The nearest tauros tosses his head over his shoulder. “Quickest way is a mile or so down that path. If you’re lucky, the ferry will be there. They’ve had issues with flooding the past few months—weather going out of whack and all. But if the boat’s running it should be able to take you where you need to go.”

Tobias slumps. He knew traveling on the river likely meant they’d have to board a boat, but as a fire type that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. Plus, big bodies of water means reflections, which means Giratina. Even with what Nia said about Giratina helping down in the mines, Tobias would rather not test that tentative trust until they get some answers from Edme.

After Nia thanks them again, the tauros pull away, taking their cart down the dirt road. The ground here is tacky and cool, as if it rained recently, and tire tracks are left in their wake. Tobias and Nia watch them go. A quiet roll of thunder sounds in the distance.

Nia takes a deep breath, sniffing at the rain on the breeze and eyeing the sky. Her ears twitch, angled down the path. “I guess we just follow the path and…hope for the best?”

“I can’t believe we have to take a boat of all things,” Tobias grumbles, leading the riolu off the well-worn road and onto a much smaller footpath through the weeds. They’re heading for a forest, though the foliage looks different from the Haven’s even at a distance. Slightly more tropical. It’s still lush and green despite it being fall, and the air is a bit warmer, too, which is nice at least.

Nia gives Tobias an amused look as she starts to wake up. “I guess it makes sense you wouldn’t be a fan of boats. I mean, we can walk if you really want, but…”

“How sure are you that Giratina isn’t going to immediately yank us into the Distortion World when we board the ferry?”

“I’m like…80% sure he won’t. Probably.”

Tobias glares at her. “Only 80%?”

“85%?” Nia offers, grimacing.

Tobias groans. “We’re dead.“

“Hey, look on the bright side! I’ve thought that many, many times since coming to the Pokemon world, and I’m still alive!”

“I am not awake enough for this,” Tobias mutters. Nia snickers, apparently awake enough to tease him.

The path gets even less defined as they travel into the forest, tangled with lush foliage and weeds growing in from either side. A wooden sign sits crookedly in the soft ground, pointing ahead and saying nothing more than “FERRY.” Tobias crinkles his nose as water drips from the leaves above to sting his skin.

“They really have been getting a lot of rain here,” Nia says, stepping around a muddy puddle taking up most of the road.

Tobias pulls his poncho out from their satchel and yanks it over his head. “It must be pretty bad if the river is flooding. Usually there are systems put into place to avoid that in major waterways.”

Nia makes a troubled noise in her throat. Tobias, not eager to misstep, keeps his eyes on his feet. In the puddles they pass, he can see the gray light of dawn against the stark black outline of the treetops overhead, and he nervously eyes the flickering shapes cast by his tail flame for a hint of Giratina. He doesn’t know if it makes him more or less nervous to not see any sign of the titan.

They follow the distant, muffled sound of what Tobias now recognizes as the river. Dawn struggles to lighten the land under a heavy cover of clouds. The ground gets even sloppier and rife with water the closer they get. By time they see the trees clearing out and hear the loud rush of water right ahead, Tobias’ legs are muddied and cold.

Nia stops in her tracks. Her voice is almost drowned out by the dull roar of the river when she says a quiet, simple, “Oh.”

Tobias looks up from his careful steps to see what caused that reaction.

When the tauros mentioned the river flooding, Tobias didn’t realize how much the normal types were underselling it. The river is not just flooded but swollen to a dangerously high level, the muddied brown water stretching wide in a swift, frothy current. It swallows up the bottom halves of trees and Tobias can’t even see the dock and other structures he would expect to find, everything apparently long since swallowed by the current.

Still, a ferry is indeed present, nudged up close to the steep, muddy area serving as the river’s bank and tied to two sturdier-looking trees since there is no longer a dock in sight. The boat is fairly large, with at least two levels to it and a railed-in upper deck open to the air. A large wheel-like structure sits at the back of the boat, dipping deeper into the water every time it sways in the current. The ferry’s chipped white and orange paint is dull and muddied near its hull, but a deep blue AQUA JET is painted on its side in bold letters.

There’s a laid-back flurry of activity surrounding the ship. A croconaw wearing a coral-colored scarf is standing at the edge of the riverbank, pointing downstream and calling out directions. She’s speaking to a Pokemon who is bobbing in the river, somehow managing to stay in one place despite the powerful current. After a moment, Tobias recognizes the Pokemon’s bright orange coloring and sharp facial markings—a floatzel. A moment later, another Pokemon surfaces at his side, her sleek blue feathers bright against the muddy water. A golduck, her eyes sharp as she quietly takes in the croconaw’s words.

A call comes from the upper deck of the boat itself, and Tobias is surprised to look up and find a torkoal peering out from the railing. Tobias follows his gaze towards the trees, where a small quaxly is struggling to untie the ropes keeping the ferry ashore, pulling at the knots with his beak and flapping his little wings wildly.

The crew seems busy but at ease, calmly dealing with the conditions even as thunder rumbles in the distance. The floatzel calls out a cheery affirmative before diving under the river’s rough surface, the golduck following. The croconaw turns and heads to the quaxly’s side to help. It’s the torkoal who spots Tobias and Nia, yelling something to his crewmates.

The croconaw glances over at Tobias and Nia, clearly surprised. She finishes untying the first knot and heads over to them. “Hey! You folks wanting a ride?”

Nia tears her eyes away from where the golduck and floatzel are doing…something near the base of the boat. Clearing away debris? “Oh! Yes, please. You’re the ferry, right?”

The croconaw laughs. “One of ‘em! We’re the only one still running in this mess. Name’s Cordelia. Welcome to the Aqua Jet.”

Tobias eyes the ferry nervously. “You’re the only boat still operating?”

Cordelia grins, showing off her maw of sharp teeth, but the gesture feels more aggressive than friendly. “Someone has to. Even if it’s rare to see anyone wanting a ride nowadays, Pokemon don’t stop needing supplies just because the weather’s throwing a hissy fit.”

“Oh.” Nia looks back at the boat, clearly nervous herself now. “I-Is it, um…safe?”

Cordelia laughs again. “Any captain worth her salt would tell you that boating in a flood is never safe. But with my crew, it’s as safe as you’re going to get on the water right now. So it’s either take the long way and walk, or get on board.”

Tobias glares at Cordelia, already not a fan of the water type. He knows that walking isn’t an option—not only would it take ten times as long, but they’d likely get lost and run out of energy and provisions long before then. Not to mention having to navigate the swampy terrain and find a way to cross the treacherous river.

Nia answers for them. “We’d like a ride, if possible. S-Sorry, we’re just nervous. Not, uh, used to boating. Even in normal conditions.”

Cordelia nods. “Gotcha. Well, we’ve stayed on the water the past few months despite all this mess. We’ve got a pretty good system going. While I can’t guarantee anything 100%, we’ll try our best to get you where you need to go. Where y’all wanting to head anyways?”

Nia glances at Tobias, looking unsure.

Tobias sighs. “We’re looking for a Pokemon named Edme. All we’ve got is that they probably live in close proximity to someplace called the Hollowberry Inn and they’re somewhere in the swamps.”

“Hollowberry?” A new voice pipes up. It’s surprisingly young, and Tobias and Nia look over to see the quaxly waddling up to Cordelia’s side. He can’t be older than 10 or 11. “We go right by Hollowberry!”

Cordelia gives the little water type a proud grin, ruffling the feathers atop his head. “Hey now, little navigator, don’t go taking my job just yet!”

The quaxly preens and puffs up his little chest, flicking back the feathers atop his head.

“Cas is right,” Cordelia says, looking back to Nia and Tobias and planting her hands on her hips. “Don’t know this Edme character, but Hollowberry Inn is in a town just off the riverfront, in Shivergleam. We were heading south towards the sea anyways for our next shipment. Can’t guarantee this Edme ‘mon hasn’t left the area with all the floods, but we can get you there by tomorrow, if Suicune blesses our currents.”

“Fine,” Tobias sighs. “What’s your price?”

Surprisingly, Cordelia doesn’t charge them an arm and a leg, though it’s still a decent chunk of their remaining cash. As Tobias digs out the coins to pay, the floatzel and golduck pull themselves out of the muddy river, the former shaking his pelt free of water. The golduck rolls her eyes, but wordlessly heads over to the trees to continue untying the ropes.

The floatzel comes to their side, smiling amiably. His voice is deeper than Tobias expects as he says, “Do we actually have some customers today, Delia?”

Cordelia snorts and hands their payment to Cas. The quaxly barely manages to hold all the coins in his little wings before scurrying off and boarding the ferry. The torkoal picks himself up from the upper deck and moves out of view, presumably inside the boat to meet the little water type.

“It’s nice to see some fresh faces,” the floatzel continues, voice light. He’s older than Tobias thought at first glance, too—he’d expected the water type to be on the younger side with how easily he moved through the powerful current, but the floatzel’s fur is graying and sagging a bit with age. “I’ve missed talking to folks other than our little crew. I’m Beck.”

The water type holds out a paw, and before Tobias can try to figure out what to do with it, Nia perks up and gives it a shake. She’s clearly thrilled to meet another conversationalist. “Nia! Nice to meet you.”

From there, the little crew finishes unmooring the boat and prepping it for travel downstream. Cordelia goes to help the golduck, so Beck leads Tobias and Nia up the ramp and onto the ferry. It rocks and sways underfoot, making Tobias feel like he got hit by a confuse ray. He immediately hates it. He grabs onto the railing with a white-knuckled grip.

Beck shifts naturally with the motions of the boat, clearly used to it. He gives Tobias a sympathetic smile and says that as long as they’re careful, they’re welcome to stay outside on the upper deck as long as it doesn’t start raining or the ferry doesn’t run into any unexpected trouble.

Tobias doesn’t respond. He’s too busy trying to keep his nauseous stomach from throwing up his last meal.

“And if anything does happen,” Beck says, catching Tobias’ eye. “Nori and I will be keeping an eye out while we clear debris. We’re pretty experienced rescue ‘mon in the water.”

Tobias isn’t sure whether to feel reassured or offended that he was singled out for that statement. He should probably go inside, but he hasn’t worked up the strength in his jelly-like legs to make the five steps to the door.

Beck dives off the side of the boat and disappears into the frothy, muddy current, streaming through the water effortlessly. The golduck, Nori, glides past to the other side of the boat. Cordelia passes by Tobias and Nia to head to the front of the boat, while Cas runs around making sure everything is tied down before departure. The torkoal is nowhere to be seen. Maybe the ‘mon in charge of the steam system?

Finally, the boat starts to move. Tobias clings to the railing and stares down at the river, heart pounding. He isn’t sure if he would even notice Giratina appearing in the broken reflections right now, tense as he is.

Nia comes to his side, lightly holding the railing and looking out excitedly at the forest and water as they start to move. She glances at him, happiness faltering into something sympathetic.

“You wanna head inside?” She asks.

Tobias glares at her. She doesn’t have to use that tone of voice. He isn’t a lost child in a dungeon. He wants to snap at her but he doesn’t think he can without stuttering.

Nia, pathetically, must see right through him. Her mouth twitches with a smile. She wordlessly pries his fingers off the railing, thankfully ignoring the way he grabs her paws in a vice grip, and tugs his stumbling feet after her to the door. He isn’t too proud once inside the cabin to collapse against the first seat he sees, claws digging into the tough material. The rocking is still making Tobias’ stomach turn uncomfortably, but at least in here he can pretend they aren’t floating downstream on a death-trap of a river.

Nia bites back another smile but doesn’t say a word, turning to the open window to watch the trees go by.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #pokemon #charmander #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

[heliianth]

actually bc im never gonna shut up abt it while im still on this im gonna ramble abt botw and totk and maybe how i wouldve written a sequel . & i will pay u money to listen i promise

my favoritest of totks ideas are what it expands from botw. botws whole atmosphere is drowned in quiet mourning. something bad has happened but it was a long time ago. it still hurts but theres nothing to be done now but move forward. something is still missing but all you can do is find something else. nobody has resources to rebuild and you can hear deafening echoes of better times but the alternative is giving up. you are in this frozen state of not quite moving on and not quite in despair. like the numbness stage of grief. and the pivotal element of all of that is that link is alone. like, oppressively alone. its the primary vehicle of conveying this mood. and its interesting because this can be read not only as what link is experiencing through the player but what zelda is feeling as she holds back ganon. its an interesting contrast to have zelda mature faster than link in the flashbacks, only for link to pull her the rest of the way by growing himself

and the reason why i so strongly adore the light dragon aspect of the plot is because it shows how attached to everything zelda has gotten. arguably, zelda held back ganon in botw because she loved link. in totk, she becomes the light dragon because she loves hyrule, which had previously been so unimaginably cruel to her. the crux of her character is learning that attachment is good. loving is good. you deserve to leave an imprint on the world in a shape of Your choosing instead of being another factory print on a paper. on a surface level, shes making the same choice, but the motivation and growth behind it is really powerful

i could waffle for literally ever about all that and the point is that totk takes these ideas and implements them really well through in-game worldbuilding and specifically zelda turning into the light dragon. i would occasionally get extremely emotional just seeing how things have expanded because it feels like the world is finally moving on. theres a catharsis in seeing hyrule finally heal after knowing its desolation so intimately, especially because the state of the land itself is such a strong parallel to the arcs of the two main characters, so you get the sense that not only can people move on, link and zelda specifically have started to as well. thats my favorite part

thats why i think its an odd choice that they decided on a time travel plot. if zelda HAS to be the one getting saved, if she cant be a companion in some way either via sheikah facetime or spirit tracks shenanigans or whatever, there are lots of ways to do this without her being magic fruit snacked ten bajillion years into the past. why spend all this effort intertwining her and link with the land, only to remove her from the equation and have no further growth? in botw its understandable that hyrule is stagnant and only changes when link does because zelda is stagnant and link is doing the one changing during the game. in totk its the opposite. there are lots of ways to do this with out Having to play as zelda (though honestly that would be the way id go about it)

also a lot of my own ideas have to do with the wasted potential of a place like the depths???? what the hell do you mean theres this mind bogglingly big cavern underneath the entirety of hyrule which mysterious people used to live in and it has almost no story relevance beside being a cool setpiece???????? I FEEL INSANE?!?!??!?!? there are so many good ideas in totk that never get expanded dude FUCK

i think no matter how much i speculate and draft my own preferences of how i wouldve liked totk to elaborate on the things it introduces i cant ever bring myself to present them like they couldve realistically happened and gotten thru the nintendo writing room simply bc of the games format. if it were up to me doing certain story missions would radically change the open world as events happened in real time and thats not the MO of the game's design philosophy. honestly totk's biggest enemy is the memory system and i need to kill it with fire

#for all im talking abt it i dont actually know how i would implement the light dragon twist in my own version of the story #in a way that would preserve that surge of emotion u get upon realizing who she is and get rid of the needlessly convoluted time travel #my first thought is that it happens in the depths and the connection is disguised by red herrings #and similarly to the light dragon breaking the cloud barrier it breaks areas of the depths open #so theres prophecies and literature about the light dragon or whatever down there that leads the player to believe that shes just- #-like farosh naydra and dinraal. that the depths is just where she hangs out #and she doesnt have a unique name like them because of a language barrier #heliichats #tloz

[silentmoths]

A friend in the night

A bitch b having a time, kinda desperately want a hug but also my stupid brain says touch is forbidden, so instead im writing about getting a hug from everyone's favorite funeral consultant.

Zhongli x Reader, I think I kept the pronouns GN, im too tired to remember/re-read

Angst, readers very bad not good mental health, fluff/comfort.

The rain was probably cold still…but your skin was so numb that you couldn’t feel anything anymore.

Then again, that wasn’t anything new to you. 

A horrible day at work led to a terrible argument with your roommate when you got home. You’d forgotten to take out the trash…again.

You hadn’t meant to, you never meant to, it was just…it had just been a morning. Waking up late, nearly slipping in the shower, the bread had gone mouldy overnight…nothing ever went your way, you were late and the trash had been left forgotten. 

Harsh words had been exchanged, voices had been raised, and now here you were, sitting on the docks watching the ocean, it was choppy tonight, turbulent like the wind and rain around you.

Would anyone even notice if you just…slipped off the dock and into the water? Never to be seen again? 

Would your boss notice if you didn’t show up to work tomorrow?

Would your roommate notice before next week when the trash inevitably does not get taken out again? 

Would anyone care? 

You’re not sure how long you sit, staring and contemplating, before you realise that the rain is no longer hitting your skin…

“Finally back with me?” A familiar, warm voice ask and you turn your head.

“Zhongli…what’re you doing out so late?” you try to sound somewhat like yourself, but not even you miss how flat and shaky your voice is tonight, how desperate you truly were for something, anything…what? You didn’t know. 

Just something.

Zhongli takes a seat beside you, his umbrella easily spanning both bodies. 

He was so warm.

Even with a couple inches between you, you could still feel his body heat, radiating against your freezing skin, chasing away the numb chill as the funeral consultant fixes his amber gaze, sombre in this weather, upon you. 

“What troubles you?” his tone is not judgmental, or condescending, even through the din, his intentions are clear.

He wanted to know, because he cared.

You somewhat wish that you were still being rained on, because then it would have been easier to hide your tears as the dam wall crumbled apart right in front of him. No one had actually bothered to ask genuinely in so long that you can’t stop the absolute torrent of choked words that leave your lips as your chest tightens.

You tell him everything, the fight with your roommate, the downright bullying at work, the struggles with self worth, everything. 

Hell, you didn’t even know Zhongli all that well, he occasionally stopped by to pick up something from the shop, and you’d chat, but you’d never really considered him a close friend…an acquaintance at most… and yet here you were, laying your life out for him in the middle of the night during torrential downpour.

And he simply sits and listens, he does not intervene, he does not speak, he simply lets you get it all off your chest, and you’re grateful for it…too many times you’d been interrupted and told what you felt was just in your head, but Zhongli is kinder than that. He waits until you’re done, when you’re just a shaking, sobbing mess, before he finally shifts, slowly shrugging off his ornate coat and draping it over your shoulders.

Your initial thought is to panic about getting such an expensive item wet; but your second is how blissfully warm and heavy it was, as if the weight of that coat was slowly pulling you down, away from those intrusive thoughts. 

“Would you like to spend the night at my house?” he asks quietly, his eyes never once leaving you, as if afraid the moment he looks away, you might make do on those thoughts. 

“Oh…I wouldn’t want to impose you, Mr.Zhongli…” you sigh, but he shakes his head at you and offers a small smile.

“It’s no imposition…you sound like you need a friend right now.”

A friend…? 

Yeah…yeah you did. 

“I..guess if it’s really alright..” 

His smile only grows as he stands, offering you a hand and helping you to stand, your legs feel awfully weak and it’s only a couple of steps before your knees buckle, but the consultant is there.

Zhongli catches you with his free arm, golden eyes slowly roaming your tired frame before he nods, passing the handle of the umbrella to you, and scooping you into his arms with ease before you can ask what he’s doing. 

“Rest…you’re likely going to end up catching a cold you were out there so long.” he murmurs quietly. You knew he was right…he always seemed to be. 

His home is warm, and smelled of teas and spice, he’s kind enough to draw you a hot bath and to even lend you a change of clothing, much too big, but better than wearing cold, wet clothing, that he washes and hangs to dry as you soak the cold out of your bones. 

You do not remember much of that night, save for one embarrassing request. 

He asks if you need anything, as you find yourself curled comfortably on his couch, wrapped in snug blankets and with a cup of tea and a hot meal in your belly. You’re unsure if it’s sleep delirium that had made you do it, but instead of saying anything, you hold out your arms, making a grabby-hand gesture at the funeral consultant.

Even without words, he seems to understand you, at least far better than anyone else seemed to. For he’s quick to approach and take a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. 

Zhongli smells of rich tea and sandalwood, you’d always thought it was his cologne, but no, even now in the dead of night. He smelled of comfort, and he felt it too as he holds onto you. 

The embarrassing part came in the morning, when you wake, still on the couch technically, snuggled into his chest, seems you’d both fallen asleep like that. 

When he finally wakes, you’re asleep again, deciding that this was comfortable enough for you for now.

You’d apologise later.

#Zhongli x reader #Genshin Zhongli #Zhongli x reader fluff #silentmothwrites #moth is not silent

[galaxythreads]

I've just gotta get this out here because it's been bothering me for a few days now. I recently read a fic about an AU post-endgame where no one died and Loki and Thor were living in New Asgard. Thor had major PTSD though, and like, this was fine because yeah, I can see it. Thanos was brutal to him.

Thor's PTSD and trauma were taken extremely seriously, and I could tell that if the author didn't have PTSD they clearly did research and portrayed it really well. I was honestly impressed. They went beyond generic bad dreams and occasional flashbacks to talking about the OTHER mental health effects of ptsd.

And then.

(tw for discussion of suicidal behavior inside this fic)

Thor hits a really low point where he's convinced he's never going to get better and he plans to kill himself. And Loki finds him before he jumps off of this high tower or cliff (? not exactly clear and I don't want to go back and look) and rather than ANY CONCERN WHATSOEVER, Loki makes a joke that Thor should find somewhere higher to jump from because this one probably wouldn't kill him. and like.

??????????????????? I was utterly baffled.

The author CLEARLY knew about mental health given the care they gave PTSD, but this, an extremely serious low point in the character is reduced to jokes and belittling? I'm not even kidding. The way Loki stops Thor from jumping is by making fun of Thor until he gives up internally. Like. WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?

And the author had the GALL to, in the author's notes, explain why they had decided to go about this route because of something along the lines of "Loki has never encountered ptsd before, or suicidal behavior, but I think he handled it pretty good for a first time"

LOKI HAS - ON SCREEN, IN CANON - TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF ONCE, and I WOULD ARGUE TWICE BECAUSE HE COULD HAVE MOVED AWAY FROM THE KURSED IN THE TDW AND CHOSE NOT TO.

BUT NO. HE HAS NO EXPERIENCE WITH THAT. none.

I honestly feel disgusted, and like it is my moral obligation to say something about this.

DO NOT. under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES make fun of someone's method for trying to harm themselves. Ever. Regardless if you catch them in the act or not. If it's been years or not. DO NOT DO THIS.

And if you DO find someone about to harm themselves, DO NOT MAKE FUN OF THEM OR GOAD THEM ON. this is the worst thing you could possibly do. You are no longer a safe place. If someone thinks that their low point is going to be reduced to jokes, they will not come to you. You will have become another source of torment instead of help.

As someone who has been suicidal and has talked several close friends/family out of suicide many many times I promise that the way to approach this is with kindness, compassion, and F-ING SYMPATHY.

If the author of the fic had bothered to address the fact that what Loki did in this was both a) disgusting and b) THE WRONG THING TO DO and HE APOLOGIZED TO THOR i wouldn't have had a problem with it, because like. girl (gender neutral) we've all been there, making a big mess of a situation like this because we didn't know what to say. But this wasn't that. This honestly seemed to be a good, recommended method from the author. Like ah yes, of COURSE the thing to do when someone is hurting is to make fun of their pain. Let's just brutally torment them until they give up and numb out and crawl back to you.

I was honestly so jarred and uncomfortable that I stopped enjoying the fic after that. Bro. BrO. BRO.

If you're going to put something as serious as suicide into your fics, I BEG you to handle it with care.

#I learned later that the author bases all their charaziations after Ragnarok Thor and Loki #I'm not even sure if they've seen thor 1 and thor 2 #and a lot more made sense. #because like #ah #yeah #if i only had ragnarok loki to base loki off of #i might have written him being an a**hole to thor too #but at the same time #this is no excuse #if you can research ptsd #you can research how to HELP someone who's feeling this way #not make them feel worse #tw ptsd #tw suicide #loki #thor #fics

[fleshmechsystem]

Usually I wouldn't really write a tumblr blog as I try to deal with my thoughts on my own and often push them aside but, I feel the need to write this out.

I have had an odd week to say the least, I temporarily dated someone new again only for me to end it in hopes that it wouldn't hurt the person in the other side for feeling numb as they put it.

It was definitely an infatuation for both our sides but doing that did hurt. The relationship was definitely sexual. But in the end we're still in good terms since I do enjoy them nerding out on their favorite games and other things we got along with in the first place, besides I could still love a person without it being romantic necessarily, although it did still hurt a little bit.

I already mentioned this venting somewhere but I or at least a splitted part of myself if I can recall basically try to push the feeling aside and ignore it, saying something like "I'm repeating the same mistakes Cal made, I'm a moron for writing a wall of text" of course it's still me, completely unaware about what I'm currently feeling.

I'm aware one of my if I could even call them that anymore "friends" might read this and to that I'd say this was the reason I probably asked about Cal's previous mental state.

There's also the fact I feel this cold feeling from everyone else. I act like I'm familiar with these people but in reality is that I'm merely living with transfered memories. I know you're reading this, I can assure you I don't blame you for feeling awful that Cal will never come back. They won't.

Even if their memories begin to plague me. Although there are positives about having someone else's or previous versions of myself before the fusion happened, I remember my childhood memories with my sister within the system. As you know Max was a part of me as well. At least the base making up the fusion. It's where I got my tenacity and patience from. I'm often determined and stubborn as well.

Those memories are pleasant, despite the one memory of hearing my parents argue downstairs which caused me to feel upset.

I accept that whatever sadness there is to my situation is only a small problem. I know in the future I will be able to move on and live as myself, Patch.

I'll try to remember Max's memories instead of Cal's because it seems to always bring a positive reaction out of me. Sometimes I still do talk to my supposed sister even if I'm technically a different person and a girl now.

Despite not being familiar with the concept of transger related things about myself, she quickly picked up on it while I educated her. I do enjoy the occasional moments I see her.

It's odd that I feel indifferent to the vessel's sister on the outside compared to my sister within but I do see them as an acquittance like any other person Cal knew quite honestly. The parents seem nice but I feel a sense of not trusting them. I refuse to read any of Cal's old post, it might bring back bad memories if I did.

I know it will get better, I've lived through a stressful week before and this is just a simple one. For awhile I was having issues with my emotions, currently I still am as I experienced feeling ill due to how overwhelming fusing and unfusing became earlier.

I had to explain I was feeling a sort of mental pain but it quickly started to manifest physically as the others had to assist me partially just to get me home.

I feel disconnected from everyone right now in a literal sense. Even Riley. I wouldn't say this is a curse, this is definitely just depression which I will take seriously.

As much as I want to be honest with my feelings. I just want support and care. I don't like the cold feeling I get from people even if I did at one point hinted that I might be a sociopath, psychopath or just nuerodivergent and unable to properly feel anything, it's probably just disassociation to stress and trying to cope with it.

In the end I do have hopes that this will get better. But I'm not sure about the old relationships Cal has built throughout their life.

I feel the need to just leave these people behind and move on, but I don't want to be lonely. I thrive from being surrounded by other people and feeling alone is a nightmare... Please don't leave me.

I know this is just a rambling of a headmate as per usual but I haven't had the time to properly express this pain.

It will end, I'm hopeful it will but right now it hurts. All of it.

-Patch

#blog #plurality #vent post

[aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah]

Good god who fucked up this house like this

I’m literally rotting alive.

I haven’t seen a doctor or a dentist in what has to be years now. I don’t regularly take my psych meds. In fact I go long stretches of time without them then take them for 2 weeks before entering another long stretch. My bedroom is full of dirty laundry and old dishes and trash. My hands get tingly and numb sometimes because I spend copious amounts of hours holding my phone. I ricochet between all-nighters and sleeping 15 hours a day. I am obese and continue to gain weight because I’ve developed some convoluted ass eating patterns. I spend money I don’t have on things I don’t need to the point where it’s impacted my quality of life. I keep buying healthy food to eat and I let it rot. I get tired easily because I’m in such poor physical shape. I can no longer wear certain footwear because of how painful it is in my legs and hips and I don’t know why and probably won’t see a doctor about it. I don’t brush my teeth. That is not an exaggeration, I no longer brush my teeth. It’s a once-in-a-while thing now, much like the meds. I get occasional tooth pain and I just try to ignore it until it goes away. I’ve already had one root canal and I’m certain I always have terrible breath. I have no savings. I am always one emergency away from complete ruin. And I keep buying things I think will make me feel better. And it doesn’t even work!! What’s worse is I know it might not work and I do it anyway. I sleep on this uncomfortable futon with too few pillows but won’t buy more pillows because I’m too busy spending that money on low nutrient foods that I have delivered to my house instead of cooking the ingredients in my fridge (that are on their way to being spoiled). I see a therapist and psychiatrist and nutritionist (none of which I can afford) and I’m only ever half honest with them. I know what they need to hear and I say it. I don’t even want to lie, I just do. They give me the space to talk about all this and I clam up. I can’t open up about it no matter how much I want to. I hate my job. I no longer get any joy from it, only anger, disappointment, dread, exhaustion. In place of joy I get slightly less of the aforementioned negative emotions. I’m also bad at my job. I think of death everyday, often multiple times a day, specifically how and when I’m going to kill myself.

I want someone else to take over. I want someone else to be me for a little while and unfucken my life. I know that I have the power to do it myself. But I don’t want to. That’s the worst part of all of this. I’m complacent in my own suffering. I know what needs to change and I’m unwilling/unable to do so. I’d rather rot and die and rot again after that

#this is BLEAK AS HELL. bleak post #screams from the void #no because I just wanted to do a little rant about how mental illness impacts my hygiene #did not set out to write this bummer manifesto #like girl… #idk what to even do with this #I kinda wanna delete it but a part of me is like no I need to read this in a few years and laugh #zoo wee mama #screams from the void and the void screams back #I understand what people mean when they say self-hatred is another form of self-centeredness #like ma’am you’re not the joker you’re just unwell. it’ll be okay. deep breaths #ANYWAY I’m very aware of the fact that all these jokey tags are just me trying to distance myself from the very umcomfy rawness of this post #ugh listen to me. rawness. like I’m some kind of artist #get over yourself!!!!! #you’re literally just some guy #ANYWAY ANYWAY I do feel a little better so now hopefully I can go to sleep #fat phobia tw #fatphobia tw #internalized fatphobia tw #suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw

[speakmindfully]

I think I hurt my own feelings today, and I swear… every time I feel like I’m moving forward, I’m moving backwards. But now it feels more like, instead of one step forward, two steps back, it’s more two steps forward one step back. How do I stop stepping back? How do I only look forward? I keep coming back to this graphic- how it’s made me completely redefine how I see and understand processing pain.

I got off of social media because it was showing me too many reminders and sneak peeks into a life I didn’t want to associate with. I re-downloaded it to follow my EMT school on Instagram, and of course, I should have just kept it deleted. I saw my ex on another girl’s Instagram, on what I assume was a date, as they’ve been close for awhile. I know the girl from school, and we cross paths every so often. I knew this day would come, and I have no idea what their relationship is like but for my own well-being I’m going to assume the worst and assume they’re dating now. Luckily her and I only have a few mutual friends but none I think I’d run into. I hate that seeing him look so happy made me feel sick. I hate that my intestines torse and I immediately lose my appetite. I hate that it makes me sad. I hate that I want to cry.

I hate that I have to replay in my mind constantly the things that I shouldn’t want about him. I have to tell myself that the way I was treated is not the way I would want to pick back up. I hate that I will never not feel this way. It makes me feel like I’m falling into madness thinking that THIS is how life just will be now. The occasional flicker of a post, a sighting, and I feel like being sick . I wish I didn’t still care. I wish I could cling to the bad, and rid him in my mind of anything good. I wish I could villainize him the way everyone else can. I WISH I could. How easy that would be. Is this the thing I have to learn to grow through? Is THIS my burden? Being plagued by this man forever and questioning whether or not I was the one who was wrong?

I’ve been doing exceptionally well at keeping myself distracted, but man it can get difficult. Dreams, constantly. Once a week even sometimes. He’s there, not in memories or waking thoughts but in my dreams. The dreams aren’t even replays of what was, it’s all new. The dreams shrivel me up in ways I’ve never felt pain. The way I’ll wake up from a dream and just feel so numb, I’ll make it to the car for wherever I’m going and just sob. And I can’t even explain what emotion I feel or why I am, just that it’s connected to him. I almost WANT him to be dating her, so it can really force him away that much more.

If I couldn’t have the ideal version of him that I needed, I need him as far away as possible. I can hate parts of him, but never all of him. I stopped loving parts of him, but not all of them. I wish he would stop plaguing me. He’s “won” every battle we’ve ever had, everything but like once or twice. I never got an ounce of the same grace I gave him. It makes me sick also that I could continue giving to someone like that. It sounds superficial to say but dealing with the choice loss of him has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. The way I CHOSE to do this and yet parts of me still cling to him. The way I feel is so corrosive, it’s bad for me and it just eats away at me from the inside out. I feel like I’m betraying myself and I have no idea where it’s coming from. Where do these feelings come from? Do I just fake like I don’t care until I don’t care? It’s worked with everything else in my life but this. He is my Achilles because I’ve never “won” with him. I’m always under his thumb, I just want to be free. My poor heart who’s just trying to protect me, and give all my love to ME, is being hijacked and thrown into cage. It’s like holding hands through prison bars. If you close your eyes and pretend you’re free while holding the hands of a loved one you can almost convince yourself you’re free but when you open your eyes the bars are still there, blocking you ever so slightly from that full embrace.

I feel like I’m so close to freedom I can taste it, but as long as he exists around me, or I live in fear he’s around me, the less my jar grows. I’m prioritizing ALL my time, energy, and love into my closest friends, my work, and my career passions. It’s been amazing and fulfilling, and it’s slowly eating away at the bad feelings I’m trying to escape. The grief. My heart has never hurt like this. It’s because I was in charge of making it feel this way. I was the one who pushed away. It’s MY doing. And it burns like a paper cut every fucking time. I don’t know how to keep growing my jar like in the picture. I want my jar so big I can barely see the grief. I feel so sick. So empty. So conflicted. I want to push everyone else away from me. I don’t want anyone romantically near me. I feel like an electric fence. I’m trying to be an electric fence. I want nothing to do with any feelings that could remind me of the joy of love. I want to grow in every way but in love. Love is too painful. Love is too much hurt. I never want to love this way ever again. I don’t know if I even want to find love again… any possible reminder of love feels like acid bubbling in my stomach threatening to come vomiting out, scalding every inch it touches on the way out. Leaving a shaky, cold, empty, nauseating illness behind. The idea of love right now feels like stomach acid. It aches it pains it hurts. I hate that he ruined this for me. I hate that he makes me feel like it’s my fault. I lost part of myself. A part I can’t decide if I want back. I wish it would all go away. If I just moved it would go away.

I’m swimming deeper into the abyss with these thoughts they should have stayed under wraps. I want it all to go away. He’ll break me if I can’t make it disappear. Fuck him. Fuck love. Fuck it all.

[comradecrusty]

to all my mentally ill folks...please stick with your meds it gets so better...like....omg does it get better

i genuinely used to think everybody was lying when they said it got better but it do! i feel so happy and my emotions are back and i enjoy things and its all i could ever want

#i hope everybody that needs one can find a good psychiatrist who helps them find the meds that work for them #instead of me feeling numb and bad occasionally i feel GOOD with bad occasionally #like instead of just sitting here staring at the wall goin huh. nothing to do. i sit here now like huh! theres some stuff i can do today! #weed dependency who 💁🏻‍♀️ i could cut it out if i wanted but i think im just gonna try to reduce my usage cause its still very helpful #i just gotta stop smoking 5-6 times a day cause that definitely affects my mental health negatively but less than 3 times a day will be good #mental illness #depression #personal

[hooman4ever]

‘Cock Warming’ !Slight NSFW! Karl Heisenberg x Male Reader

Contains: Cock Warming, Edging, Teasing, Anal, Bondage

This was torture you thought as you were sitting on Heisenberg's lap as he sat in a chair in front of his workbench, he was working on his newest project. Normally this wouldn't be a problem as you usually kept the man company while he worked but this time he insisted you did so naked- with his length buried in your ass.

At first it was bearable and almost enjoyable as you could hold him as he worked a delicious full feeling only adding to the surprisingly comfortable position, however it started to get more irritating when he started to tease you. Every now and then he would grind into you pressing against your most sensitive spots only for him to stop or when he would fondle your member occasionally stroking you all the while he had a knowing smirk on his face as you suddenly were clinging to him, your breath less controlled and your face flushed.

Once again you felt him shift the movement pressing his length against your prostate making you lurch forward a loud whine escaping your mouth, he laughed.

"Someone's needy."

You scoffed as you glared at the smug man in front of you, "And who's fault is that." you muttered under your breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Gritting your teeth you pushed yourself off his chest now sitting up arms crossed as you looked him in his eyes. "I said- shit~" your sentence was cut off as a moan forced it's way past your lips. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he thrusted inside of you once giving you the movement you needed and at the same time not giving you enough of it.

At this point your member was flushed red precum smeered on Heisenberg's lower abdomen as you once again found yourself clinging to the man.

"That's much better, be quiet and stay still. I'm almost done, little cock warmer~" he cooed mockingly at you before his hands left your hips.

You grit your teeth as you contemplated disobeying him and simply taking things into your own hands, in the end you didn't however knowing if you did he would simply leave you there hard and needy.

After a few more minutes he finally set his project down and rested both hands on your hips as he rubbed circles into them soothingly.

"See that wasn't so hard, was it? Now I believe I should reward my good boy for being so patient."

Suddenly he lifted you up in his arms, not removing himself as he pushed you to his workbench, something dug into your shoulder blade but you paid it no mind as you were more focused on the man in front of you. He moved his hips slowly at first almost as if he was urging you to beg for him, and he did. He wanted you to beg for him to pound you into his desk and make you a moaning mess underneath him. Keeping up with his slow pace you finally snapped.

"Karl, please just hurry and fuck me already!" you were annoyed and horny and his games were starting to become less amusing to you.

"Well since you asked so kindly." he scoffed before picking up his pace, his quick deep thrusts had you moaning below him as you squirmed feeling the heat in your abdomen swell with every thrust. His grip on your hips was almost painful as his fingers dug into the flesh using it as leverage as he pulled you back to meet every one of his thrusts. Skin slapping filled the room along with your moans, you felt your mind go hazy when Heisenberg removed a hand from your hips instead to give your member much needed attention.

He quickly jerked you off, matching every one of his strokes to his thrusts. Your arms flew around his shoulders as you buried one of your hands into his hair pulling slightly drawing a groan from his lips before metal quickly flew across the room keeping your hands above your head.

"Bad idea, buttercup." his voice was strained.

He then gripped the underside of your thighs and lifted them almost folding you as he started thrusting again, the new position allowed him to hit deeper spots inside of you. The sensation was mind numbing as your brain seemed to short circuit, your vision went white as you came. An open mouthed scream of pleasure left you as Heisenberg kept up his relentless pace abusing your hole.

"Fuck- just a little more."

His thrusts became sloppy as he reached his orgasm as well, he nestled his face into your neck as he came a moan leaving his lips as he filled you. Slowly he lowered your hips before pulling out, the warm liquid instantly slid out of you. The metal trapping your wrists seemed to disappear as Heisenberg lifted you into his arms checking you over to make sure you weren't hurt.

"How about we get you cleaned up?"

You smiled as he set you down carefully almost as if he was scared you would break.

"That sounds nice."

#karl heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x male reader #karl heisenberg x male #re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #male reader #amab reader

[unfoundhoney]

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #dsmp #minecraft youtubers #dream smp x reader #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #technoblade #technoblade x reader #philza #philza x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #tubbo #tubbo x reader #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois x reader #tommyinnit fanfic #tommyinnit fanfiction #technoblade fanfic #technoblade fanfiction #philza fanfic #philza fanfiction #tubbo fanfic #tubbo fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfic

[hellraisered]

optimus prime / reader || car wash

Optimus rolls up the gravel driveway caked in mud. It clings to his tires and hubcaps as if directly adhered to metal, and grime seems to seep into every visible crevice it possibly could. He looked a mess. You're sitting on the stairs of the porch to your amply secluded refuge, away from the prying eyes of the city, a convenient place for your Cybertronian compatriot and company to reconvene and plan further action, considering the government was no longer an institution they could trust. Standing, you snort and approach the filthy semi-truck. 

"Jesus Christ, what happened to you? Looks like you had a particularly bad encounter with a trash compactor." 

Deep baritone rumbled out of the vehicle, something which no longer startled you. "There was a landslide at the dumpsite near this location. I incurred no damage that was not purely cosmetic." 

It's hard to swallow down a laugh, and for a moment, you fail. 

"Sorry, sorry, that's not funny." You pause. "Well, maybe it is, but only a little. Glad you weren't hurt by all of the descending diapers from Mount Rumpke, though." 

His exhaust pipe puffs smoke, and you're unsure if that's a sign of him being peeved, or just a truck functioning as a truck does. Apparently having been in his vehicular form for long enough, metal shifts and turns to reveal himself, in all his massive metallic glory. Despite his ripe scent, it was not dissimilar to a sunset, in the way that it managed to impress you every single time. You're just lucky that the surrounding trees are just barely tall enough to conceal him. 

"I am glad you manage to find some form of amusement from my predicament," he says, though his words have no real bite to them. Without thinking, he flicks off a larger piece of garbage in the way one would swat at a mosquito.  

"Come on," you, feeling a bit guilty, attempt to coax, sidling up next to his leg that was very easily thirty times larger than your own. Your hand sits flat against what would be his lower shin. "Here, let me make it up to you. I'll hose you down, give you a nice wash, and have you looking good as new." 

"Thank you, but that is not necessary." 

You suck your teeth in feigned annoyance. His voice warms you.

"You can't be in the middle of the forest smelling like rotting garbage. You're scaring off all the animals." 

"They have perfectly functional car washes that provide the service you're offering."

"But are they providing that service for free? Because I am. And the last time I checked, you don't have a credit card, or a bank account to pay with. Besides, when was the last time a plug-and-chug car wash - that can comfortably fit a semi, mind you - really got into the nitty-gritty of things? I bet they've never, I don't know," and suddenly you're very aware of how little you know about cars, "- dusted your engine? Cleaned your windshield wipers? I might not have wax, but I do have a bucket and a spare couple of hours." 

His hand twitches, and he looks down at you with something you satisfyingly interpret as resigned exasperation. In reply, you shoot him a knowing, smug grin.

Optimus is in his alt mode for convenience. It would be unnecessarily difficult to scale a fourty-foot tall man with the bucket in your hand, so you start with a sponge at his hubcaps. You soak it in water, apply soap to the body, quietly moving in small circles, trying to dislodge as much surface dirt as possible. Gentle scrubbing gives way to the vibrant blues and reds you had become so accustomed to. The water you'd been dipping the sponge in was now a murky brown, and smelled earthy, with a hint of garbage. You make a note to buy some car wax the next time you're out. 

You continue for a while, the quiet occasional rev of his engine the single real indicator of his presence as something other than a vehicle. Fingertips worry over indentations and crevices, checking for lingering grime, satisfied only by the telltale squeak of cleanliness. If your palms linger on any of his surfaces for too long, he either doesn't notice, or doesn't mention it; something you're thankful for. 

It honestly shouldn't be taking you this long, and you don't want to admit that perhaps you're taking your time on purpose. Something about the consistent purr of his engine, surprisingly warm metal, and numbing monotony of wiping in circles made the experience almost addictive. You're enjoying this more than you thought you would. In one way, it feels awfully intimate. You don't think about it too much.

True to your word, by the time you're complete, Optimus looks substantially better than he did coming in, his campy little flames now reflecting in the light instead of being obscured by potentially (and probably) hazardous material. He allows himself to return to his original form, and subtly, quietly inspects the work you've done. You'd done him a favor, sure, but you can't help but be a little nervous. 

"Thank you," and there's the hint of a smile in his voice, but not quite. You're not sure a full smile would fit him, but you want to see him with one anyway. 

"Don't worry about it; consider it a public service." And you laugh in an attempt to dispel the swirling heat eager to invade your face at the acknowledgment. You avoid direct eye contact. Silently, you hope he returns to you covered in dirt more often, just for the opportunity to do it all over again.

#optimus prime x reader #sorry for the movieverse optimus. hes my skrunkly . apologies #bayverse optimus prime #optimus prime

[theredsuzuran]

Kᴏᴋᴜsʜɪʙᴏᴜ, ᴅᴏᴜᴍᴀ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ NSFW ❣︎ ]

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵃʸ¡

Kokushibou~

Tags : non-con, dom-sub, hate sex, fingering, creampie, belly bulge.

"I believe you want to decapitate my head, no?"

The demon spoke calmly while teasing that swollen clit of yours on the other hand his long wide digits pumped in and out of your tight wet core vigorously. Ending up like this after dedicating your life to the crops is rather humiliating but instead of cowering with shame and disgust, you find yourself enjoying every thrust that penetrated deep inside the clenched hole of yours, prevailing a pure state of ecstacy.

"Speak of yourself filthy demon" you managed to speak between low grunts by resuming the lweds noises from escaping your soft trembling lips. A series of swift slaps landed onto your bare tits molding the flesh roughly in the process accompanied with pinches in the hypersensitive bud erected high due to its intensity. Your knees shuddering with each blow as kokushibo slaps harder simultaneously in your hip and breast without mercy.

How did you two end up like, this night was supposed to predict the future of humanity, either one of your demise, yet there you were being fucked by your sworn enemy. Hate was an understatement to define the feelings you store for him, lothe was the correct word. You loathed him for long as you can remember starting from the way he overpowers you to the way you whimper helplessly beneath his touch. All the insults he throws at you with his gaze locked directly over your frail quivering frame, caressing your forbidden places, fluids overflow shamelessly from your heated cunt.

Hovering on top of your small delicate body, the tall demon bends you aggressively against the tree stem. Fearing what might happen next, you tearfully pleaded but was it too late for he gropes your hips with such force rubbing his cock in between them.

"Weak" is all that come out from the silence, that one thing you never wanted to hear especially from him, it was unacceptable how he honorably stood as if he was mocking at your pathetic state while you lower you head down due to mind numbing pleasure, unable to put up with this degradation you decided to work on your impulses, applying all your remaining force you lifted your head only to be pressed down allowing him to hold a fistful of your hair roughly. 

"You think you can defeat an upper rank?" he yanked your hair roughly causing you to flinch with pain, and before you knew his member slide inside your drenched opening, you clinged onto his toned chest scratching his shoulders. He began pounding you with inhuman speed, his other hand spreading your leg wide as he mercilessly pumped his shaft upto your cervix creating concussions all over your body, belly bulging out due to his length. The forest filled with lwed moans, pants and grunts accompanied with sloppy noises of bare skin clapping against one another as the two of you continue to bang.

"Look at me" kokushibo ordered with his low voice, as an act of rebellion you refuse to listen to him gritting your teeth in protest. Suddenly he grabbed your face roughly to stare at you with his menacing eyes, your faces inches apart ready to mingle with burning passion but now would he let your lips connect? Demons are not capable of experiencing emotions anymore for they have abandoned their humanity long ago and before you stood one of the most ruthless, cruel demon of all time dominating your fragile little body like a play thing. Saliva drooling off your mouth while your tounge sticking out as he increases his pace gradually, upon witnessing the pathetic sight of yours, he chockes you earning moans of his name from your lips. There was nothing more you wanted than his cock. He shoots it warming up your walls while your juices coating his member reaching your respective orgasm, he releases you from his grip making you fall onto the ground, his hot seeds oozing out off your pussy. Just as you thought your miseries have ended and your life as well he pulled you up the ground earning a loud shriek in response, his usual calm face curving slightly into a sinister expression.

"I know exactly how to break you, (y/n)"

Douma~

Tags : mastrabation, degrading, oral sex, cock worship.

You have always loved the eccentric cult leader from afar which begun from exchanging a glance, you were just an insignificant maid like some other women in his prismatic pair of eyes but devoting your life and soul for his upmost affection became your priority. Everybody desires that whole heartedly you never consider yourself as an exception but you dared intoxicating your thoughts spending tedious nights imagining yourself indulged in sinful pleasure.

Just like any normal day, you were assigned to do chores around the cult including tending your master's room. His scent lingered as you prepared the cushions he would he sitting later "douma s-sama" your lips parted to chante his name, fingers automatically rubbing over the fabric of your heated spot forming inbetween shaking thighs, trembling, as all kind of dirty thoughts engulf your mind Sitting onto the bed you spread them, so blissfully unaware that the one watches intently.

"Look who we have here, (y/n)~ touching herself while calling her master's name" you jolted upwards in utter shock soon turning into shame.

"Don't mind me, continue what you were doing dove" the man beamed with excitement as his lustful gaze roamed upside down.

"I-" you hesitantly replied.

"I won't ask you twice, if you don't want me to force you, do what I say you useless slut" his tone changed in a matter of second the carefree smile he puts up usually is replaced to a completely unemotional one scaring you for you followed his orders fearfully by rubbing your clit infront of him avoiding eye contact. He locked his eyes directly on that dripping entrance. Your wildest fantasies have come to reality.

"Come here" which you immediately obliged to, he motioned to the tent forming in his pants. "Suck" you touched the length with your hand carefully unzipping the fabric, his scent filled your nostrils captivating you to take that inside your warm mouth and you did, swirling your tongue around it kissing and sucking it gradually making the demon groan in satisfaction. You bobbed your head slowly adjusting to his big size and start sucking it upside down when suddenly you were bend down with his nose poking at your wet core, hot breath tickling onto your pussy.

"I thought it would be rude of me to enjoy on my own" he explained his expression just the same as usual as if nothing like that happened before. He stretch his tongue out to have a good taste of your wet little slit. "Oh, did I allow you to stop now, dove?" Then he began assaulting that area vigorously with his long wide tongue making it hard for you to clinge onto his cock. You scream with pure ecstasy while he continue licking and teasing your vulva occasionally sucking on it, each time harder than before. You manage to suck his cock trying to match with his inhuman speed, then he suddenly pull out a string of saliva mixed with your fluids connecting his tongue.

"You really like it no? You have to beg for it if you do" a devilish smirk formed on his features. "I do" you replied trying to clasp the area he assaulted minutes before. "No, be specific, say you are horny little slut who wants to be touched" douma explained his smile never fading away. "Please.." tears forming your eyes, who knew he'd be so sadistic but you can't deny you loved every inch of it however he pocked onto your sensitive erected clit with his sharp nails just enough to not scratch it. "You won't? Too bad" he rubbed it slightly driving you crazy.

"I- want I-it"

"Mm? You want what dove?"

"I want you to touch me master for I am a horny little slut who needs your attention.. please master" you mwealed unable to take his teasing anymore, he bit your clit harshly making you squirm in pain, your walls tightened releasing all the pent up frustration you have stored over his face, you collapsed your eyes rolled back, tongue sticking out.

"That's it?" Douma pouted.

"But don't worry you have to yet make me cum, this day's gonna be so long (y/n)"

#kokushibou #kokushibo x reader #kny kokushibou #douma #douma x reader #kny douma #douma kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #kny smut #demon slayer #smut fanfiction #smut #upper moons

[darthmaulification]

Hey, I want to make a request

In your Maul’s nsfw alphabet you said that he is afraid of hurting reader during sex, right? So, could you please write smth were this happens? Thank you!!

A/N: ..... anon..... the absolute Way you have me experiencing a cataclysm with this... i am imploding... 

thank you very much for requesting this, it was also a very good and welcome challenge for me to write. 😊👍 

hope you enjoy!! 💗

content: a lil bit o’ smut!, some angst??, but also lots of comfort and fluff!!, kinda sorta implied afab!reader??, maul commits a big oopsie on accident, crying during sex, blood and injury, maul gets angry at himself, but also soft!maul 🥺, lots of kissing, happy ending of course 🥰

word count: 2,334

Maul’s vigorous thrusting is complimented deliciously by the sloppy, desperate kisses he leaves all over the skin his mouth can reach. His crimson hands grip your wrists in a vice above your head, keeping them trapped against the bed. You moan into the sheets, arching up against him, hips tilting, silently begging him to go faster, harder, please, Maul...

“Harder, sweet girl?” Maul growls teasingly from above you, answering the plea you hadn’t realized you vocalized. He obeys, and you cry out his name when his hips clash into yours, drilling his cock into you, almost causing your knees to give from the force. The obscene yet beautiful sound of skin smacking together floats into your ears, mingling with Maul’s grunts and your persistent moaning.

Maul presses against you, the fiery skin of his bare chest flush against the arch of your back. The snapping of his hips make you rock in rhythmic tandem, and with each one you feel your peak nearing. Maul groans into the dip of your shoulder blades, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, where he licks across your flushed, dewy skin and leaves wet trails.

“Say my name again, my love.” He leaves a flat-tongued lick up your neck, nibbling at your ear. One of his hands drop from your wrists and travels down your side, rough fingers igniting sparks inside you. Maul kneads your waist, your belly, before clutching your hip. The brace allows him to further pound himself into you, and you see stars.

“Maul, Maul!” You scream his name, all high-pitched and airy, the pleasure toe-curling and promising of a powerful, sweet release. Maul exhales a rather handsome laugh into your ear, golden eyes glazed over with lust and something else wild. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him suck a love bite into the nook where your neck and shoulder meet, arching your head back and against his shoulder.

Like a prayer, his name tumbles from your lips over and over again, the lamentation pleading and desperate. Your core throbs and clenches around your lover, a telltale sign of orgasm on the horizon. Everything seems to slow down... 

But then Maul bites. Hard. Your eyes snap open.

The sinking of sharp teeth into the flesh of your shoulder is so poignant, it pierces through the thick, lustful haze and roughly pulls you back to reality. You shriek, one most certainly not out of pleasure, but actual pain. It causes Maul to abruptly pull out and back, releasing your wrists in the process. At the same time you feel the emptiness of him leaving, a white-hot fire erupts from where Maul had definitely broken the skin and you writhe.

“Ow.” The whimper escapes in one word, voice thick, as tears immediately glaze over your eyes. Blinking furiously to keep them at bay, you squirm lethargically into an upright position, sitting on your knees.

“I’m...” From behind you Maul starts to say something, but his voice cuts out when you look down over your shoulder and reach a trembling hand up to the bite. When you actually see the wound, that’s when the tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s... bad. 

The bite is a perfect oval of teeth indents and grooves, most of them deep and bleeding, the skin around them a harsh red and raised. The skin around it is an ugly mix of crimson, dark purple bruising, and pink with irritation. The entire area is swollen and pulsing with ache. Bottom lip wobbling, you trace a hesitant finger along the edge of the bite and the touch stings. You pull your hand back with a shaky gasp.

“My love, I...” Maul starts speaking again but stops and swallows. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you’re not exactly sure why. The tears are falling profusely now, and you shudder back heavier sobs. The room goes dreadfully silent, save for your small, quiet cries. You can feel Maul’s stare on you, more specifically on the injury he caused.

“I hurt you. I hurt you.” He repeats to himself, the tone of his voice inscrutable. He suddenly clambers up and off of the bed, the mattress shaking gently, and you listen as his footsteps disappear out of the room. The room is left thick with pain and sorrow, and also a stewing shame that was left hovering after Maul spoke. You look back at the bite after another round of tears pours from your eyes. Oh, Maul...

Footfalls sound again, and Maul reenters the room as your examining the darkening wound, particularly the trails of blood that have by now reached your waist. His heart clenches with a terrible ache, and guilt and anger bubble to the surface, stiffening him. He hurt you, he did. Maul almost doesn’t want to approach, almost thinks he shouldn’t, but you need the bacta.

You don’t look at Maul’s face when he sits next to you, though not as close he usually would, because you’re unsure if you want to see the expression that must be on it. Instead, you focus on his hands, at the wet rag, bacta, and bandages he’s holding. You also notice how his hands are quivering.

“Can I clean it?” Maul asks in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, though he’s very obviously seething with barely capped rage. That somewhat familiar self-loathing Maul gets from time to time radiates off of him, as does guilt. You sniffle, and bob your head yes. The pain is less sharp now, but the wound still needs to be dressed.

Maul says nothing as he wipes away the almost dried blood trails, or as he very tenderly dabs at the puffy wound, or when he pauses at his teeth marks that are purpling now, or even when he smears the bacta over them. The whole time, he works mechanically and in deafening silence. By the time Maul has placed a bandage over the bite, the cooling of the bacta has numbed your shoulder to a soft, dull ache and the hurt is all but gone.

“Maul...” You start softly after you feel his hands leave you, gaze climbing up his arms to his face. The shame-ridden expression on his face makes your heart sink, how his downcast golden eyes are aflame with guilt and swirling with fury. He doesn’t look at you as you turn fully to face him, and recoils when you place a hand on his cheek. His body, ever warm, is stiff beneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur and Maul’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, the anger flaring. His square jaw tenses and he shakes off your hand.

“No, it’s not. I hurt you.” And while you see and hear that familiar wrath and that unfamiliar guilt in his expression and voice, it never occurred to you before that Maul was also afraid. It makes you misty-eyed. You shake your head, shuffling closer to him.

“No, no, no— Maul, it was an accident.” You plead, placing your hands on either side of his face, rubbing circles with your thumbs. Usually, that simple touch calms him down, but this time Maul grabs your wrists and pulls his face from your grasp.

“I hurt you.” He says again, voice a hiss as he stares at you with conflicted, pained eyes, “I fucking made you cry.”

Maul suddenly leaps up from the bed, pacing across the room to roughly grab his pants off the floor. He pulls them on swiftly, and your brows furrow when he crosses the room to grab his belt and lightsaber.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he ties his belt across his waist, clipping his saber to it. He doesn’t look at you, and turns to the door.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you are not.” You clamber up off the bed and onto your feet, stumbling slightly as you hastily make your way over to Maul. You’re able to get in front of him, planting your hands firmly on his chest and halting him. He glares down at you, angrily, sadly, and you ground yourself at look up at him.

“Move.” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Your lips turn down in a stubborn pout. Maul’s bristling under your touch, and you know you’re walking on precarious ground. But you’ve dealt with Maul’s temper enough to not have it faze you, and you’re sure you can handle his guilt the same.

“No.” You retort and you pull yourself flush against him, arms snaking around his torso in a tight hug, your eyes closing. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you sigh at the familiar warmth you love, digging your face into his beautiful crimson and black skin. Maul doesn’t wrap his arms around you in turn. You give his sternum a gentle kiss.

“Get off.” Maul’s growled order comes out as brashly and as firmly as always, but his commandeering attitude hasn’t worked on you for years. A sudden, but small, spark of playfulness curls your lips upwards into a tiny smile. You rub your hands up and down the length of Maul’s back, feeling every tight, defined muscle and occasionally the rough edge of his scar when your hand gets low enough and your pinky fingers brush it.

“Never.” Your murmur vibrates his chest, and you hum contentedly when you finally catch the lovely beatings of Maul’s twin hearts. They thrum in alternating rhythm beneath your ear, both strong and deep.

“You’re not running from me.” You speak again, eyes still closed. Maul is quiet, though you feel him lift an arm and a tender, yet firm, hand comes to rest on the low of your back. You smile fully, lightly gliding your nails over Maul’s back in the way you know he loves. His thumb starts to rub circles on your skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“... I was scared.”

“I know.”

You look up at Maul, eyes beneath heavy lids, your smile still bright and kind on your face. The conflict in his eyes has cooled to a simmer, being replaced more and more by that boyish, starry-eyed look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds you of how much he loves you. Maul’s other hand reaches up and cups your cheek, caressing your face. You tilt your head into the touch.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” He teases in a low murmur, honey gold eyes glimmering with rising mirth, and you quirk an eyebrow. Your hands stop to rest on his waist, just above the band of his pants. Maul’s face starts to inch in closer and closer to yours, stopping right when his lips are just above yours.

“Mm... you might have to do some convincing.” You whisper, eyes drooping further until your irises are nearly obscured by your eyelashes. Maul chuckles low in his throat, his hand shifting to place two fingers under your chin. He tilts your head up slightly, pulls you closer against him.

“How do you suppose I accomplish that?” He asks, breath puffing on your cheeks, gaze breaking from yours when he closes his eyes. You follow suit, and the tips of both your upper lips touch.

“... I can think of one way.” You say, and you tilt your head and your jaw slackens slightly, and Maul’s lips are on yours, balmy and soft. The kiss is slow, slower than he usually does, but it’s perfect and sultry and so Maul. You hum when he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to gyrate in your mouth. He explores everywhere, relearns every touch. It’s like you’re kissing for the first time all over again, lost in each other as if the years of memorizing each other’s body melted away into oblivion. Your hands clasp his waist, his one hand moves up to your mid back, and the heated, passionate kiss ends.

Maul pulls back a little more to look at you properly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you open your eyes from the touch. He’s wearing that satisfied, lazy grin, the one that always makes him look mischievous. 

“Do you still need more convincing?” He asks with a tilt of his head, though he knows the answer you’re going to give by the cheeky smile that spreads across your face. You giggles, eyes sparkling, and you nod.

“Lots.” And with that, Maul’s lips are on yours, stifling your laughter in his mouth. He smothers you with kisses, peppering your lips, cheeks, and jaw, and you do the same for him, kissing over and over until you’re sure your lips will fall off. At some point, Maul heaves you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and drops your bodies atop it.

You squeal with laughter when he rolls on top of you, trapping you between his thighs, nuzzling and kissing the side of your face. Your hands fumble at his shoulders, before sliding to his face to turn his head to you. He’s grinning between your hands, looking absolutely charmed, and you kiss him on the nose, breathy from laughing.

When you pull away, Maul’s panting and still grinning like a madman, but his wild eyes have gone somewhat tame, controlled. His eyes dart all around your face, like he’s analyzing each one of your features. He breathes an exhale, licks his lips, and meets your gaze.

“I love you.” And his voice is slightly raspy, but he says it with such conviction, so raw and passionate, that the intensity floors you. Sure, he’s said those words to you before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Your eyes go slightly misty again, and you smile sweetly, fingers rubbing the bases of his horns on his temples.

“I love you.” You reply and again, Maul sinks into you with a deep kiss, and you all but melt into each other, bodies a welcoming sanctuary for the other.

#star wars #star wars darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #darth maul #maul #anon #anon ask #request

[eremiie]

Heyyy I was wondering if you could write an Eren smut fic??? Basically a super Dom Eren fucking you really rough to the point your body feels numb and gives out but Eren is there to hold you up telling you to take it like a good girl

say it;

❥ eren x reader | 3.3k words | nsfw

❥ content: dub-con ish, dirty talk, slight degradation, vaginal fingering

❥ this story was also just an excuse for me to write the whole one bed trope LMFAOOO, i also forgot to read the ask request again so this might not be exactly what you requested :((

"okay, you guy's sleep well!" armin's voice lingered as he furthered down the hall, spinning his room key around his dainty finger as he followed annie to the hotel room not too far from you and eren's.

"eren?" eren turned around before he twisted the knob to your shared hotel room at the sound of mikasa's voice, her standing there, bag dangling at her feet beside jean. "are you sure? i can switch rooms with _____ so me and her can share a bed and you can have a room with two beds with jean."

you and your close friends decided to take a trip upstate, and at your arrival a hotel was in much need. luckily, there of course were enough rooms for the semi large group on the same floor; annie and armin sharing a room, sasha and connie, jean and mikasa, and of course you and eren.

the issue? there weren't enough two bedded rooms.

you and eren being the last ones to sign a room out opted to take the room to spare your friends, the both of you wanting your friends to be comfortable.

you didn't have a problem with eren, and vice versa— the two of you not being the closest in your friend group, but their wasn't necessarily a problem between you guys.

you weren't so fond of eren's personality, he was a little too rowdy, a little too rough, a little too snarky, and a little too... much. of course for eren, he wasn't too up to par with you either.

eren sighed before shaking his head. "i told you it's fine mikasa."

"we want you guys to be comfortable." you added with a smile at mikasa, her blank gaze drifting to you. it made you a little uncomfortable, but you knew she meant no harm; as a a matter of factly you were closer to mikasa than you were to eren.

"connie let's go, they're literally talking about the rooms for like the hundredth eighty seventh time, come on, we don't have to wait!" sasha groaned tugging at connie's hand who waved a goodnight to the remaining four of you before walking off with sasha.

"you su—"

"yes, mikasa."

mikasa looked down at her feet at eren's quick reply, before jean patted her shoulder. "... yeah let's go mikasa. eren said they're fine, i'm sure they'll be fine... uh, let's just go."

mikasa nodded her head, a goodnight said to the two of you as well before you and eren headed into the room as well.

it was a nice room, the closet door being a large mirror with the bathroom to the left which you'd be using to change in a second. the bed sat smack dab in the center of two nightstands, newly illuminated lamps placed on each side as well. the bed was a little spacious enough for you and eren, and you could only hope he wasn't a crazy sleeper— you didn't doubt it if he was though.

"i'm gonna change out." you said, placing your bags down next to your side of the bed.

"i'm gonna sleep on that side." eren commented, pointing to where you placed your bags. you gave him an incredulous look.

"seriously? i'm literally already over here.."

eren shrugged his shoulder. "i always sleep on the left side."

you rolled your eyes, and to prevent arguing with the brunette, you moved to the right side, then shuffling through your bag for your pajamas and going to the bathroom to do your night routine and change.

once you were out, eren didn't go in, already changed into black sweat shorts and shirt missing. you could tell he retied his brown locks as less flyaways were present in the front of his head— it was either that or the fact that he was already lying down, covers strewn on his thighs, so the stray hairs gravitated from the front of his forehead to the sides.

"eren, seriously? could you at least have on a shirt if we're gonna sleep together?"

eren pursed his lips at the last part, but held back his joke, especially since he didn't know if it'd end in awkward silence or not. instead he let his eyes linger over your frame who was placing your products and clothes back into your bag from the other side of the bed. you caught his eyes at the last second, and you crossed your arms over your body.

"you don't really have clothes on either."

you looked down at your body, an oversized shirt covering your shorts. a sigh left your lips before you crawled into bed flicking off the lamp and eren reciprocating. in the dead of the newfound dark you let out a mumble; "just stay on your side of the bed."

how hard was that to follow?

clearly somewhat hard for eren jaeger.

you didn't even know what time it was, lots of time having passed since you let out those last words. you were having trouble falling asleep, and you reckoned eren was too from the way he shuffled beside you. your eyes were closed but the littlest shuffle could snap you out of your half sleep state.

eren's arm draped over your midsection, your body stiffening at the gesture, but then you made up your mind— he was probably sleep. however, to you the touch felt somewhat cautious— his arm had flew to your waist fast but right before it could sit, it slowly brought it to your waist then placed it carefully and strategically.

you let it be, you didn't want to disrupt his sleep.

and you let it be again, when eren brought you closer, securing you in place whereas your backside came in contact with his chest. you could feel the ripple of his abs on your lower back and the warmness he brought almost made you want to snuggle closer. the heat of his breathing touched your neck, every breath he released you could feel grazing the back of your neck, even when he leaned in closer until his nose was touching your neck.

you were so tense, not wanting to move just in case you woke him up. not that you really wanted to move. his body heat radiating off of him brought heat to your own skin, and the way your bodies almost fit together perfectly like a puzzle gave you some kind of domestic feeling.

you didn't not like eren, he just never was up your ally, thanks to his personality.

of course... he was attractive in the least— you couldn't lie.

you were jolted from your thoughts when the hand on your stomach began to move in circles, occasionally pinching at your skin, and you were wrong, you were wrong,

he was awake.

i mean, right? of course sleepwalkers existed, so you didn't doubt people could move their hands in their sleep if they could actively get up and walk. but the breathing on your skin felt too fast, the way his body touched yours felt too.. awake.

"eren..." you murmured, your hand moving overtop of his, and you felt the arm around your waist tense up as well.

he didn't answer for a good amount of seconds, his hand stilling on your stomach. "you awake?" you gripped his hand on yours, preparing to pull him off of you but you hesitated when you felt him pull you closer until your ass was pressed against his front side. his voice was groggy, and scratchy, and you could tell he probably did try to fall asleep.

something was preventing him from doing so.

"i usually sleep with a pillow." he excused, breathing in heavy before loosening his grip a little once he felt you weren't gonna move.

"really? you could've just put a pillow in between us instead of using me as a pillow."

his hands went up to squeeze at your waist before dipping lower to your hips to give it a light squeeze as well. you could've swore you felt his leg come a little more over yours as well from the way he spooned you. "this is better."

if you were being honest with yourself his touch was comforting— and maybe even a little more than that as well. it was too late to move him now, and like you thought earlier; it wasn't like you really wanted him to move anyways.

after a brief moment of silence eren spoke again, a light mutter of your name. "______."

you sucked in a breath before responding, feeling his hips shift against yours, and one of his legs now moving to stay atop yours. "yes, eren?" your tone was unleveled, you tried to make it sound irritated but it was shaky and unconvincing.

"you feel good," your eyes widened in the dark and you felt his hands drift completely to your waist to hold you against him without shame. no response to him back. you let his lips come in slight contact with your skin, where they were just ghosting your shoulder at this point. you got the hint whether he thought you did or not. "feel good against me like this.."

eren's hips rose up and you could feel him hard against you, you weren't even sure if he had boxers underneath his shorts, his length feeling free as it moved against the cheek of your ass, and you stifled a gasp. "c'mon, say something, i know you felt that."

he advanced, hearing no protests from you. he let his hand slide down until it slipped under your shirt, beginning to graze the waist band of your shorts. his lips were fully pressed against your shoulder now, but only that— only being pressed against you, unmoving until he spoke again. "can't you tell how bad i want you?"

his hand slipped past your shorts, and only cupped you through your underwear, but the heat that wrapped around you as well as the words that left his lips had you moaned. "fuck, mhm..." eren hummed lowly against your shoulder as his finger prodded at your clit, his cock continuing to rub against your ass. "been wanted you so bad though, ever since mikasa brought you around us."

eren's lips on your skin began to turn into sloppy kisses on you that traveled up from your shoulder to your neck, eren now aware that you'd let him have his way with you, as you still made no effort to stop him, and that was because you wanted him just as badly.

"but you always hung you with sasha, jean and them, 'never really got to talk to you but, fuck—" your mouth was dropped open at the feeling of the kisses peppering your skin and the feeling of his fingers moving aside your underwear until it slid through your wetness causing eren to groan against your skin. "you're so fucking wet—" you subconsciously lifted your leg as he pushed his finger into you, your walls sucking it in easily, and causing you to let out a whimper. eren grabbed your thigh to push it back until your decided to maneuver your body 'till you were on your back. eren pressed himself flush against your side continuing to finger you, your face scrunched up in pleasure.

"'wanna fuck the shit out of you so bad."

eren's lips connected with yours, sloppy kisses while his finger pumped in and out of you, him adding another one to stretch you out good, your back slightly arching off the bed from the intrusion that just felt so nice, and you could only imagine what eren would feel like. the sound of your slick getting pushed in and out filled both you and eren's ears and egged him on, his tongue slipping into your mouth, the mint of your toothpaste mixing into his mouth, pure lust felt through the kiss. "listen to that— god, let me fill you up real good, _____." he said against your lips.

you pulled away to catch your breath, chest heaving up and down, then hastily nodded your head but quickly realizing eren couldn't see you, the both of you having turned the lamps off when first attempting sleep. "yes, fuck, yes, eren." and he wasted no time slipping his fingers out of your cunt, and even though you couldn't see it you heard him begin to suck on them, popping the digits out his mouth with a pop while he scrambled to pull down his shorts, and you doubt any boxers were there to come down with them.

eren climbed over top of you, his movements rough as he practically shoved your shorts down your legs along with your underwear.

it had been a while since you had slept with anybody, ever since your new group of friends you never payed too much attention to anyone interested in you, nor did you take an interest in anybody. you preferred to indulge in the activities your circle dragged you into, likewise this trip. so when eren lined himself up with you and attempted to slide into you your hand flew down to grab at his upper arm as you hissed in pain. 'oh my— fuck!" you didn't get to see how big he was, and you almost wanted to turn on the lights to get a glimpse.

eren stopped his movements, sighing in impatience. his hand came up to rub small circles on your clit, clearly eager to sheath his whole length inside of you. "shit, c'mon,"

your mouth gaped in pain, and you knew it'd turn into pleasure if you just let him move a little further, but the way you pushed at his arm made it seem like you were trying to move him away further. eren seemed to feel that way too, his hand coming up to grab at yours on his arm and pinning it to the bed. "don't run."

you whined when he lent forward to ghost his lips over yours, essentially pushing more into your tight heat. "take it like a good girl." and with those words, he engulfed your lips into his once more while he pushed in, swallowing your cries. your hand flew to give you more comfort by making its way under your shirt and cupping at your breasts, your lack of bra making it easy. "m'gonna move now." you nodded against eren's lips, him pulling away to bury his head in his neck as he started to move in and out of you slowly at first.

he stretched you perfectly, your pussy accommodating him nicely. with how wet you were the pain subsided quickly, eren sliding in and out more easily with every stroke. you felt so full, and it felt good. eren lifted his head from the crevice of your neck, his strokes become deeper yet faster, and you threw your head back so it was further into the pillow behind you, your palm coming to your mouth as you moaned into it. "your pussy feel so fucking good, _____, shit—"

"eren, please, faster." your words came out like a plea, and you could tell that drove eren even further, his hand coming up to your neck until he was grasping it tight— almost using it for leverage as he fucked into you faster at your request, but not only faster; harder, your body jolting with each of his thrusts. you were practically already creaming around him, your slick gathering around the base of his dick, collecting in a ring with every push and pull out of you.

"so you want this just as bad, yeah?" his voice was taunting, and his grip on your throat tightened. "wanted to be fucked on me like this so bad i bet." he murmured, his thumb pressing on the side of your neck, restricting your breathing. your hand came up to grab at his wrist in panic, and he stopped pressing down, loosening his hold and sliding his hand down to cup yours through your shirt on top of your tit. "say it."

"ngh, eren," your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he pumped into you slower yet went impossibly deep, his tip kissing your cervix every time with the way he lifted his hips to meet you. and with the way he lifted his lips came his length stroking that sweet spot inside of you that had your own hips lifting, moaning every time, that familiar feeling beginning to form in your lower stomach.

"say how bad you wanted me." you were sure if you could see eren, he'd be staring at you with a lustful stare, green eyes, trying to intimidate you, submit you into spilling what he wanted to know. it wasn't like you weren't gonna say it, after all he was somewhat in control of your building climax, you just want to mess with him a bit.

you were still silent until eren stilled his hips, hand feeling up your neck until it reached your jaw, grabbing it harshly between his thumb and remaining fingers, giving it a slight shake. "i'm waiting." he didn't even need to add on, just the lack of movement down below caused your body to grind down on his dick, trying to create any movement to make up for the void he left. you let out another whine.

"i wanted you bad eren, wanted you to fuck me good— please keep going."

"that's why you didn't move me earlier, huh?"

your legs were feeling tired, you muttering an “i can’t,” to eren. the position you were attempting to hold your legs up for him was causing your left leg to cramp up, and you let out a whimper before letting them drop to the bed. the way he was fucking you hard, was taking a toll, yet you wanted him to keep going. you could imagine how your legs would feel tomorrow, and not only that but the questions your friends would bestow upon you.

eren sighed letting go of your jaw, both hands sliding down until they met the fat of your thighs, giving them a quick rub before pushing your thighs back and holding them so they were pressed against your midsection. “can’t even hold your legs up for me?” eren murmured before finally continuing to fuck you.

this angle felt much better, constant stimulation on your g-spot as eren pushed your body down, his dick brushing over it with every thrust, and he knew you were getting close. your hands started to grip at the sheets, the sounds that left your lips were becoming more incoherent, and the way your back tried arching off the bed despite the position. his hand come down to rub at your clit again, helping your orgasm come sooner. "come on, come all over my dick."

and after a few more of his strokes you were coming undone, cumming all over eren as he asked, your pussy pulsating causing him to squeeze his eyes shut as you became impossibly tight around him. you let out a loud moan that you were positive jean and mikasa might've heard if either were awake from next door to you, or maybe whoever was the poor guest on the other side of you.

eren groaned, and although his hips stuttered he quickened his paced and chased his own orgasms until he too felt it coming, pulling out and letting go of your legs, them falling back to the bed while his hand pushed at your shirt until it was gathered up on your chest, him pumping himself until he finished all over your stomach, the two of you secretly praying none of it got on the bed.

eren and you were both out of breath, panting heavily as eren collapsed next to you, dick still twitching, but so was your body. "that was good." eren blurted out once he caught his breath.

"...yeah, yeah it was... i can’t really feel my legs." you joked, you and eren both letting out a laugh. "i'm gonna go clean off." and with that, you tried standing up, but you had to steady yourself with the bed, legs ready to give up on you.

eren must’ve heard your small stumble because he shifted his head towards you and then fumbled with the lamp beside him, finally getting to see your face and you finally getting to see his.

eren chuckled before patting the bed. “i’ll get you something to clean up with.” soon enough after he left to the bathroom, you sitting back onto the bed, holding your shirt up, he returned with a wet napkin, and handed it to you to wipe at yourself before discarding it for you as well. eren climbed back into bed with you after slipping his shorts back on, both of you staring at the ceiling only shoulders touching this time.

"hey, we never tell them about this... right?" eren sounded genuinely concerned, and you let out another small laugh that he smiled at.

"yeah, eren. they won't have to know."

so, how well did you and eren sleep that night? well... you would've suspected you both had your own beds.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren aot #eren yeager #eren jaeger smut

[glamgoblin]

Have you ever been so annoyed with canon that you write an angsty soulmate au where everyone tells Gram he’s dumb instead of sleeping? Just me, okay cool. Fic below.

Just a quick but important authors note! Slight trigger warning for potential self harm language. In this world soulmarks get painful, itch, and scar if soulmates are separated and or fight it’s heavily implied that the pain is not welcome but I know scarring, particularly on the wrist, can be triggering. Please take care of yourself and don’t read this if you feel like that could potentially be triggering. You are loved ❤️❤️❤️

All in all, Black had it pretty good. He had a stable job, decent group of friends, even a relatively new partner that seemed to love him for some unknown reason. Sure he occasionally still felt the burning itching feeling of his soulmark at his wrist but that was nothing new. Even when he woke up in the middle of the night scratching it until it scabbed over, he’d just roll over and go back to sleep after. His new partner didn’t even seem to mind. Of course they had their own soulmate issues too, but it was a rare luxury to find someone who didn’t mind a broken soulmark. He was happy they found each other, even if it wasn’t for forever.

So Black considered himself pretty lucky.

He actually liked his life for once. So much so that he was even making efforts to be nicer to Sean, at White’s pointed request. It didn’t make him feel less empty. Soulmates were…difficult. And Black’s had left him for Black’s ex Girlfriend. Sure they met through Eugene and Black didn’t want to break up with her in the first place, only doing so to save her life, but it stung. It burned. Specifically at his wrist.

Six years had passed and the pain got worse every day. He once thought there would be a pain limit for broken soulmarks, turns out he was wrong. The problem was his wasn’t fully broken. Whatever bond he’d once shared with Gram was still strong enough that it hadn’t completely broken yet. Maybe it’s because they never fully fought it out. Maybe its because White and Sean still occasionally spoke to Gram. Either way it would wake him up in searing pain or cause his whole arm to stop working at the least convenient possible time. Just to remind him that love can be difficult, and provide challenges previously unexpected. Love takes a little more work than expected. Like cooking dinner with one arm because the other is numb due to some dumb soul connection you never wanted in the first place.

Six years since he hugged Eugene goodbye and Gram nearly pushed him over. He would’ve had Black not been as strong as he was. Six years and Black had changed so much he was almost a new person, he assumed Gram did too but he would never ask. Would they even be soulmates anymore? It would be nice if that could just go away. In moments of weakness Black occasionally toyed with asking White about Gram. He would never ask Sean that was asking for mockery, but White might be more understanding. Everytime he decided against it, figuring it would do more bad than good. It’d just hurt him in the long run. And what would it accomplish? Telling him his soulmate was doing fine without him? Was right to leave him? Was happier without him than he ever could be with him?

No that would just send him to a place he didn’t want to go.

Knowing some of this, White always stayed quiet about it too. He never mentioned when Gram was somewhere nearby or when the group had reunions that involved him. White would say a friend mentioned something on the phone, and Black would always know if it was Gram he was talking about. Luckily White talked about enough weird people that there was always a chance it wasn’t Gram. Even Yok wouldn’t mention it, even though he rarely saw him. He and Yok had an agreement that they would help each other with their bikes at the garage still. Even though they all went their separate ways in life, fighting for justice on their own paths, they all still cared about each other and all had a past tying them together. Except for Black and Gram.

It was an unspoken rule of the group that the two would never be in the same room again. There would be Black time and there would be Gram time, but the whole group, all of ROL wouldn’t be together again. That was fine, Black liked it that way. In fact having White as a buffer and having only half the social obligation was a relief. They had a lot to handle outside of university now anyway, it would be a lot to get them all together.

So Black carried on with his life, briefly mourning the loss of his soulmate and getting into a healthier relationship later on. Even if it took him a year to even look back on it, he got there eventually.

Black didn’t wish Eugene any harm. She was kind. A part of Black would always still love her even if he was never in love with her. Eugene didn’t make the choice to hurt him on a physical-spiritual level. He had pushed her away with no explanation. She only received one half a year later from White, who sincerely apologized for his part in her pain, which probably made little sense. If he was Eugene he wouldn’t take him back either. Wherever she was, with Gram or not, he hoped she was happy.

He saw a poster with her on it for a dance performance once. He actively avoided being anywhere near the theater for two months after, but he was happy for her.

Gram, however, Black wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. He switched between not caring at all and wanting Gram to experience immense pain.

When Black saw Gram dancing with Eugene, when he heard how long he pined after her, Black broke a little. He didn’t even register the ice running through his veins before he was numb. He should’ve been surprised, even fought back, but after having been beaten to near death twice by his oldest friend, Black was feeling loose on trust. The cords binding him to others weakening, slacking, and fraying. He was resigned. At that point he didn’t even care. He wanted to say goodbye to Eugene, to apologize for his behavior, and to march to his inevitable death by the hands of Todd. He tried to get Gram to leave, so he could be vulnerable to Eugene. He couldn’t trust Gram with that right now. But Gram wouldn’t leave. So Black opened himself up to pain and got what he expected. Had it not been for fearing for White’s life he’s not sure he would’ve been able to leave that room. His heart would have stopped there. It was a low point that the person who betrayed him least over those days was Todd.

So Black resolved never to see Gram again. He finished his fight with Todd, coming to a truce involving workers rights and the understanding that Black would never stop fighting against him, changed his class schedule despite it being insanely inconvenient and adding a semester on to his degree, and avoided anywhere Gram could be. If Gram really wanted to find him, he’d ask White. Even if White didn’t tell him, he could just follow the tug of his soulmark if he tried hard enough. He just never did.

So years later, there was no way Gram could find Black. Sure he still sometimes spoke to White, but now White would have good reason to question why he’d want to find him. Black felt pretty confident he would never see Gram again. He moved on. It was just some dumb cosmic fluke that made them soulmates. An accident. Black could work with an accident half his life was one. White had once suggested he go to a therapy group for people with broken soulmarks, Black made sure to make enough scathing comments that White never mentioned it again.

Black had pined for Gram for far longer than White knew. Pretty much since they first met, and then instantly realized they were soulmates. Gram didn’t want a romantic soulmate in Black and Black had just started dating Eugene so he wasn’t sure either. The longer he knew Gram, the more certain he was that he wasn’t seeing him as just a friend. Eugene wasn’t unaware of this, sure he never had the courage to tell her but she knew. Gumpa probably knew too. Years of practice had given Black a gritty exterior, he could hide it well in front of Gram though.

Maybe the hollowness he found in that room made him feel lighter too, because not having to hide his feelings did make him feel a little lighter even if it came at a great cost. Now he learned to revel in the positive side of it of it. Black drew strength from his sorrow, making steal from fallen tears, using it to push him forward to accomplish his goals. It’s how he got here. He was practically running a free legal clinic for infringement of worker’s rights. Making enough money to survive, and keeping a side job as a repair mechanic out of Gumpa’s shop to make extra money. He saw White and Sean often, he had a new group of friends who could actually tell them apart. He steeled himself and kept going, he didn’t need someone else to complete him. And if he didn’t need someone else to be complete, he couldn’t be broken.

He'd even extended his hobbies to tattoo design. That’s how he met his partner. They were a tattoo artist. So maybe Black had a type and it was artsy, you could sue him he knew the law. After they were dating a little while Black started hanging around different shops, learning what he could. He’d only gained one tattoo after college, but he wanted to make sure the next one he got would be perfect.

That’s how he ended up hanging out at one of his friends shops taking his try at tattooing a cantaloupe for fun and feeling particularly peppy while his friend was taking his last piercing appointments of the day. He was lucky Black was a good friend and was also covering the main desk for him. He’d really changed from his younger days.

The door chimed and Black heard laughter, signaling Black to get his customer service voice out and stop playing around with the tattoo gun. The laughter stopped as he turned around and stared directly into Grams eyes.

They had changed since the last time Black saw him. They were older now with a bit more burden. His face was less soft, but no less attractive. Black only hated himself a little for thinking that. Gram’s hair was the same, Black figured he must really like it silver. But all of that aside he felt the pulsing at his wrist, the physical sensation that should tell him he’s home. That sense of rightness as his wrist started to heal itself from the separation scars. He assumed Gram’s was doing the same. Even if Gram didn’t love Black, even as less than a friend, the broken mark would scar on him too. As much as his wrist felt safe, his heart was telling him run.

It took a moment for Black to come back to reality after the overwhelming sensation of a soulmate reunion.

“Black.” Gram spoke out as Black’s eyes landed on Eugene.

So they were still together, good for them Black figured. Eugene deserved better, but it seemed like they were hellbent on hurting him so why not let them carry on.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“What?” Gram looked genuinely confused. So he was still dumb.

“We’re only taking appointments right now, shop’s closed otherwise.” It wasn’t a lie, the store’s hours were posted clearly outside. Walk-ins ended and hour and a half ago.

“Black.” Gram tried again and Black had no intention of letting him get any further.

“No appointment then. Store’s closed. Door’s that way.” Black leveled his most intimidating stare before pausing. “Eugene.” He nodded his head to her. He was mad sure, but he held no resentment for her. Any resentment he felt for her was because she was the one to take Gram away, not because she did anything wrong. And she didn’t really take Gram away. He willingly went to her.

“Black!” Gram tried again, hopefully for the last time if he valued his life, as Black went back to his tattoo gun, this time more stabbing the cantaloupe than tattooing it. Black could hear a sharp inhale from Gram, so this was going to be a fight then, good. Black would happily punch him and fully break their soul bond. He’d finally be free of it anyway.

“Hey,” there was a rustling from the back of the store “I know it’s bad to complain about free labor, Black but I could’ve sworn I heard people come in.”

Black thanked every star that Sea was a tall, intimidating, not bad at reading a room person. He could tell something was wrong right away.

“Who the hell are you kid?”

“Um, Gram.” Gram barely got out his first name much less his last or appointment time. He had one, Black checked when Gram and Eugene were busy being frightened by Sea. Black would be buying Sea a drink later.

“Hm.” Sea grabbed the appointment list with a deliberate flourish. “You have an appointment for an ear piercing great.”

“I can-“ Gram started.

“You sit there, your girlfriend can sit on the bench by the piercing chair.”

“Um we’re not together.”

“You think I give a damn?” Sea was like Black, he could be intimidating if he needed to be, soft if he wanted to be. “Stay there and I’ll get my tools.”

Gram was a coward so it didn’t surprise Black when he sat down in the piercing chair carefully looking at Eugene every five seconds to ask if they should run. It wasn’t like Black was staring. Gumpa’s training had prepared him enough to look like he wasn’t.

Sea came back quickly with some jewelry and the packaged needle, looking Gram dead in the eye from above him. “So what’d you say to my friend’s boyfriend to get him so scared?” Sea took a marker out to prep.

“Boyfriend? So you have someone in your life that’s…good.” Gram looked over to Black. Black made no motion to acknowledge the comment.

“Hey, you’re talking to me here kid.”

“Hey, Black.” Eugene finally spoke. “We’re not here together, like that.”

“Didn’t ask.” It was petty, she seemed to care, but in moment Black didn’t care about their feelings. He’d been nice enough to say actual words to her. That counted for something. If it didn’t, not his problem.

“We never were actually, decided it would be wrong.” Gram turned to look at Black. His voice sounded weak. Black didn’t care.

“Kid, I literally have a needle by your ear. You’re gonna get yourself stabbed if you don’t shut up and stay still.” Black wasn’t sure if Sea meant it as a warning that he would accidentally pierce Gram wrong or that Black would stab Gram himself. Black liked that about Sea.

“I don’t care.” Gram’s voice was small. “I finally found you.” Came out in a whisper. It sounded vulnerable, desperate. Black knew full the fuck well that he misheard that last part.

If Gram felt that way he wouldn’t have come in here laughing with Eugene, like they history they shared wasn’t built on heartbreak. Not theirs but heartbreak nonetheless. Black would have no pity for him. Gram could’ve found him easily years ago. Black was losing his patience and planning his exit.

“You’re his soulmate.” Sea finally noticed the matching, albeit distorted mark on Gram’s wrist.

“Yes.” Gram was still looking at Black he could feel his eyes burning holes into Black’s very being.

“Then get out.” Sea put the needle down. “I’ll give you the jewelry for free, just leave.”

“Black.” Black heard a plea from someone in the distance.

“Sea, I’m leaving.”

He nodded in response.

Black hopped over the counter and walked as confidently as he could out of the store. Once he was a few steps out of the store he ran as fast as he could away. Black deliberately took the most difficult route home, grateful for his parkour days. When he was finally confident Gram’s shadow couldn’t find him he stopped, out of breath, in a park.

It wasn’t cold, but it should’ve been. Black was freezing. Still his soulmark remained unbroken. Somehow his mark didn’t get the message that he didn’t want this anymore. That he didn’t want this pain. He still loved Gram, his soul wouldn’t let him stop. And Gram just looked at him hollow. Like nothing that Black was was ever good.

Black kicked a rock, hoping it would shatter despite the stubbornness and infamous permanency of stone. Why could nothing change. He felt like a new doll being placed in an old dollhouse. Logical, normal, but not made to fit. He felt like a toy to whatever cosmic being did this to him anyway. Why was Gram his soulmate? Why didn’t Gram love him back? Why did it hurt?

At least Black was alone now, at least enough to calm his thoughts. It hadn’t hurt this much in nearly six years, he hadn’t seen Gram in almost that long but the pain should’ve dulled somewhat by now. Black checked his mark the scratches had already started healing from half an hour near Gram. Some of them had even disappeared. The intricate design as clear as ever. He hated it.

After awhile Black managed to put himself back together again, and decided it was time to go back home. He called a taxi, he’d go get his bike at the shop tomorrow when there was no chance he’d run into Gram. Usually he hated someone else driving him but he’d make an exception to avoid Gram tonight.

He made it home after what seemed like far too long. His partner was still up working on a project, and Black’s heart softened at the sight of them. He didn’t want his turmoil to hurt them. Or anyone. Except Gram. Maybe he’d take some of it out on Sean.

“Welcome bac-what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Baby, I know you better than that.” His partner got up to give him a hug. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

“I will.” Black wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready. But if he recovered he would speak. Maybe in sometime he’d tell White too. He’d gladly sit through one of White’s group therapy lectures to remind himself his brother cares.

“C’mon, lets have dinner.”

- - -

“What? Slow down I can’t tell what you’re saying.”

Sean laughed overhearing his frustrated fiancé in the next room. Annoyed White was always the cutest, but Sean was also a little nosy about this conversation. Enough to put aside his distraction at cute White and get up to subtly motion for White to put the phone on speaker.

“I saw him.” Gram’s voice came through the speaker. It sounded like he had just been kicked, the three words taking all the air out of his lungs and leaving him with no way to get more.

“Who?” White was visibly confused.

“Black.” White stilled. Sean looked at White’s eyes. This was bad.

“What happened?” White spoke, voice level with a practiced calm ready to pass judgement.

“I tried to talk to him. I kept saying his name then I-I was getting my ear pierced? Then he left. Eugene was here she left an hour ago. Fuck, I fucked up White.”

“Shit, Eugene was there.” Sean muttered inaudibly to not intrude.

“What’d he say?”

“He wouldn’t speak to me.”

White sighed.

“Okay, where are you now?”

“In the alley by the shop, he might come back.”

“Gram, you know that’s a bad idea.”

“I know.”

“Go home Gram, if you want to talk to him this isn’t the way.”

“I love-“ Gram paused, he knew better than to tell White he loved Black, “I know.”

It hurt Sean to hear Gram crying on the other side of the line.

“Thanks White.”

“Mm. But Gram, you can’t break his heart again. I won’t see my brother like that again.”

“…I know.” Gram chose his words carefully. Probably for the best considering how intimidating White could be when he was protective.

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

White ended the call. “I’m gonna call my brother.”

Sean nodded as the phone rang.

“White? Is something wrong why are you calling so late?”

“Just wanted to tell you I love you.”

Sean laughed, Black would probably murder White for that. He’d come to his beloved’s defense but he would be amused while doing so.

“You just wanted to tell-oh.” So Black figured it out. “Thanks.”

“You know most big brothers would say I love you back.”

“And most little brothers wouldn’t be so annoying.” There was no real bite behind his words. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m about to go to bed, good night.”

“Good night, I love you too.” Black hung up way too fast for White to say anything.

“Aw I love you, and I’ll be around all day.”

If you made it this far thank you!!!! 💖 as with my other three fics I’m just getting back to writing so constructive criticism is more than welcome. Also this is completely unedited so if you find any mistakes please let me know. Thank you gramblack nation for clowning with me. 💖

#not me the series #gramblack #I wasn’t going to write this but then I thought if gram can make bad choices so can I #hurt without comfort

[novaiya]

Love below 0°C - Arthur x Reader

Summary: You’ve just escaped from Blackwater, barely ducking from bullets that were shot your way. Your trusted horse, however, wasn’t so lucky. Stuck in Colter with no stables to buy a horse from, Arthur decides to go out and get you one, but not just any one, a White Arabian. Is the horse the only thing he's bringing back?

Words: 2.8k

Tags: Established Relationship, FLUFF, 

A/N: I think the last line in this piece is the best line I’ve ever wrote simply because oh the image it evokes :(

Based on this request: Could you please do a fic set during the prologue of rdr2 in Colter, that Arthur tries to tame the white Arabian for the reader because their horse died instead of Boedecia, it takes hours to do it and when he brings it back to camp he starts sneezing and catches a cold so the reader thanks him by taking care of him :D

If you prefer to read on AO3, click here.

The wind was brutal, hitting your body with such force that you were wondering how the horses were able to keep going. If it wasn’t for you holding onto Arthur, you were sure that the wind would’ve taken you away.

Having escaped from Blackwater, the entire gang have found themselves up in the mountains, caught in a snowstorm. Although the weather was cruel and you could already feel your limbs go numb, it beat being captured by the Pinkertons and the lawmen that would surely kill you more painful than the weather would.

As everybody rode on, thinking about the next move or the weather, you were thinking about your horse. From the East to the West and back to the East, he was with you through it all. A gift from Arthur, he was the first, and only, horse you’ve had since joining the Van Der Linde gang. He was loyal to you from the start, patient as you learned how to properly ride and take care of him, and he deserved more than to be killed by a stray bullet from a Blackwater lawman. Tears pricked your eyes as you remembered the image of him laying on the ground, taking his last breath right before Arthur ran up and scooped you away, putting you on his horse and riding away from the damned town.

Your head was laying on Arthur’s back as he rode through the snow, following the light of Dutch’s lantern. You were starting to doze off, Arthur’s back, warm and soft, being as good as any pillow. The voices of Dutch and the rest of the gang were fading into the foreground as you fell asleep, the sound of wind howling accompanying you into the dream world.

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself in a bed, with a blanket over you and Arthur snuggled behind you. Despite the snow outside making the windows of the cabin tremble, you were as warm and cozy as you could be. You turned around in Arthur’s hold, facing him; he was so cute when he slept, with his mouth slightly open. His nose and cheeks were a bit red, indicating that he was probably out in the cold last night. You had to make sure to keep him warm and safe while you were in this weather, you thought, otherwise he was bound to catch a cold. You knew how reckless he could get, forgetting to take care of himself and putting others first. It was one of the best and at the same time worst traits of his.

As if he felt you watching him, he gradually opened his eyes.

“Mornin’,” he said.

“Morning,” you returned. “Were you out last night?” you said, running a hand through his hair and down to his reddened cheek.

“I was. Me, Micah and Dutch went to check out a homestead Micah found. The O'Driscolls got there first. Found a woman there, brought her back.”

“What about the homestead? Can we go back and stay there?”

“Unfortunately, Micah got to it first, burned the whole thing to the ground.”

“Jesus…” you drew, shaking your head.

The two of you were silent for a moment before Arthur spoke again.

“How are you feeling?” he said, eyeing you with a bit of worry. The two of you didn’t have time to discuss the situation till now.

“I’m okay,” you said, shuffling a bit and rising up so you could sit against the headboard. “Just sad about Happy. He didn’t deserve to go out like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, following you and sitting against the headboard as well. He smiled as he remembered the day when he gifted you your horse. Since joining the gang, you would either ride one of the unused horses kept by the hitching post, or ride on the back of Boadicea with Arthur. Despite never being without a ride, you felt that you were ready to have one you could properly call your own, and shared that with Arthur. Being the gentleman he was, Arthur quickly took you to the nearest stable and bought you your new horse (an act for which he got a kiss and which started your relationship) “I remember when the two of you first met, you didn’t even have to break him in. He practically wanted you to mount him,” he said with a laugh.

You smiled and chuckled a bit, remembering how quickly you formed a bond with your horse. That smile quickly faded as you realized you were never going to see Happy again. You shook your head, trying to push away the thoughts.

The two of you got ready before going out of your room and into a dining room-kitchen area of the little cabin you stayed in. Molly was standing by the counter, looking out of the window and sipping on a coffee. Hosea was sitting in a chair by the fireplace, warming up his hands. You went to the counter to make a cup of coffee for yourself and Arthur.

“I know it might be too soon,” Arthur said, coming up to you and taking the coffee you offered. “But we need to get you a new horse.”

His words stung you a bit; you felt bad for replacing Happy so soon, but you knew that you had to. If you had no horse, you couldn’t be a productive member of the gang.

“I know,” you said, looking down into your cup of coffee. “But how are we supposed to do that? We can’t just go out to buy one now, it might be too dangerous.”

“I’ve heard stories of an Arabian horse roaming in the mountains not far from here.” Hosea’s voice made both of you look at him.

Arthur turned around to face him. “Do you know where exactly?”

“Well, no one is sure for certain, and they are just that, stories, but people said they’ve seen it around Lake Isabella.”

__________________________

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” you said, standing next to Arthur’s horse as he mounted it, getting ready to make the trip to Lake Isabella.

“You know me darlin’,” Arthur said with a smile. “I’m always careful.”

You chuckled, slapping his leg playfully.

He bent down slightly, and you stood on your tiptoes, meeting him halfway and kissing him. His lips were cold, and so were yours, but neither of you minded. When you broke apart, he gave you a smile before spurring Boadicea and disappearing into the snowy plain.

You stood in the snow for a few more minutes, looking out into the distance where Arthur rode away to. You hoped he would be careful and take care of himself like he promised. He had a tendency of neglecting himself, being careless and letting himself get hurt or sick. On more than one occasion you had to make sure he wore warm clothes when you were in colder climates, or wore his hat when the sun was especially brutal. Despite being a one of the leaders of the Van Der Linde gang, stepping in for Dutch or Hosea when he had to, he could be so silly when it came to trivial things.  You chuckled to yourself. Good thing he had you, you thought, a thought that Arthur often had himself.

__________________________

The snowstorm was getting more brutal the further he went into the mountains. At some points, he couldn’t even see in front of him, everything hidden by the white of the snow. From time to time, the storm would get so brutal, Boedecia could barely move through it. Finally, after a few hours he could see the frozen Lake Isabella. Everything was covered in white; the trees, the rocks, the lake itself. All the animals that were able to withstand the harsh weather and roamed around too wore coats of white, blending in with the surroundings. In this scenery, Arthur stood out like a sore thumb with his dark blue coat and his black hat.

He hitched Boedecia to one of the trees that lined the shore of the lake before venturing out, trying to get a feel for the surrounding area.

He should get a fire started, he thought, warm himself up before getting to work. That’s what you would’ve done, at least, if you were here. He promised you that he would take care of himself. He felt bad for not doing that, but he hoped he would be in and out within an hour, so forth he went.

It was hours before he finally found her, having missed her white coat in the equally white snow a countless times. Finding her, however, wasn’t even the hardest part, breaking her in, that was. She bucked him off for what he felt like a dozen times. He could barely feel his face in the end, having been thrown off face first in the snow far too many times. Finally, as if the horse was just as tired of bucking off Arthur as Arthur was tired of being bucked off, she gave in, relaxing under him.

Despite being cold, tired and hungry, he forwent setting up camp to rest, already planning the route back to Colter. Being the completionism that he was, he didn’t feel that his mission was over until you had the horse’s reins in your hand.

“Let’s get you to your new owner,” he said, patting the mare’s platinum mane.

He whistled for Boedecia, and when she came, the three of them started their journey back to Colter. The snow storm still blew, but it was not as rough as it was before, and Arthur could see the path in front of him. He noticed how serene and quiet the area was, and if it wasn’t for his occasional sneezes cutting through the silence, there would be nothing heard. When his nose started to run, he cursed himself, using the cuff of his coat to wipe at it.

__________________________

You were standing by the window, sipping on your coffee and looking outside when you saw Arthur make his way up the path on a horse that was as white as a fresh winter snow. “Arthur!” you exclaimed and ran outside.

“Got a present for ya,” he said as he dismounted the horse.

As you looked over your new ride, taking notice of her beautiful, platinum hair and her equally platinum body, you couldn’t help but be distracted by the sneezes and sniffles that came from Arthur. Oh, Arthur! Of course he didn’t listen to you, you thought, probably didn’t set up a fire and most likely spent too much time in the snow. His selfless act, as much as it meant to you, came at a cost that you would now have to help him pay.

“Oh, Arthur,” you said after he sneezed again.

“I’m alright,” he said like he always did, waving away with his hand.

“C’mon,” you said, taking Arthur’s hand in yours and leading him into the house and your room. “Let’s get you warm.”

“Darlin’, I told you, I’m all right.”

He would not have been Arthur Morgan if he didn’t try to reject your help at least once. He hated being a burden to you or to anyone, especially when he was at fault. You, however, after being in a relationship with him for the past few years, learned to not pay attention to his rejections, simply continuing on with what you were doing. With your help, after a few minutes, he was down to his union suit, his clothes, heavy and wet, laying in the corner of the room to be hanged up to dry later. You fished out a fresh set of clothes from your unpacked bags, a pair of pants, a shirt and a warm jacket made of sheepskin, and gave it to him before leaving the room to get a hot cup of coffee and a meal for Arthur.

The room was quiet while you were outside, and Arthur had a moment to let his thoughts travel freely in his mind. He looked at his arms and his legs, clothed in fresh, dry clothes. He looked at the door where on the other side you, his love, were preparing food for him. The warmth that the clothes provided could not rival the warmth he felt in his heart through all your acts of love. He never imagined that someone could love him as much as you did. Not only that, he didn’t think he deserved it, after everything he has done in his life. The words were no match for what he felt for you as you opened the door, balancing a cup of coffee and a bowl of stew as you held the doorknob, your cheeks red from the cold, your eyes full of love as you looked at him.

__________________________

“You silly, silly man,” you said as you sat on a chair next to the bed, looking over Arthur. It has been a few days since Arthur brought back the white Arabian and with her, the cold he caught. He was sneezing, coughing, blowing his nose, the whole nine yards, yet despite all that, he still wanted to get back on his horse and to work. You had to all but tie him to the bed to keep him from going out.

“I need to go out with Dutch,” he would say between sneezes, trying to get up and go.

“They'll have to manage without you,” you would return, pushing him back on the bed and covering him with blankets. “I’m not gonna let you get any more sicker.”

The next few days were mostly spent in the confines of the four walls of your room, with you taking care of Arthur. Surprising yourself, he didn’t fight too much, giving in almost right away and letting you nurse him to health. He could get used to it, he thought, as you kept taking care of him, tucking him under blankets, bringing hot bowls of stew. On a couple of occasions, he caught himself imagining that he wasn’t in some broken down cabin in Colter, hiding from Pinkertons and lawmen, but in his own house, on his own land. The image warmed him up more than any bowl of stew or cup of coffee could.

As you were laying in the bed with Arthur, you could hear the snow storm playing outside, threatening to break the windows and invade the room. Although the walls were cold, with Arthur’s body and a blanket over the two of you, you were warm. By now, Arthur has almost completely recovered, the only trace of the sickness being a sneeze here and there, but it too was almost completely gone.

“You know,” Arthur started, making you look up at him from where your head was on his chest. “It’s in moments like these, when I can see us bein’ somewhere else. Just the two of us.”

He imagined the two of you on your own ranch or a farm. No bounties to hunt, no debts to collect. He could see himself as a rancher, not carrying his gun belt every waking hour, a dog by his side. He imagined you, in a light, flow-y dress, taking care of the house, bringing love and light to it just as you did to every tent the two of you have shared. Maybe the cold has made his mind delirious, but he could even see the two of you grow old together, sitting on a rocking chair on the porch of your house, your hair gray, your face littered with wrinkles, each one telling a story.

“Me too,” you said, imagining a similar scenery in your mind. The mess that had just gone down in Blackwater had shaken your trust in Dutch just as it had for Arthur. Something has changed, and despite continuing following Dutch, the two of you realized you could only rely on one another. It’s a realization, so crucial, which would come to play strongly in the next few months, a lifeline that would lead you to your happy ever after in the end, with you, in a flow-y dress on the porch of your ranch, watching as Arthur tended to the herd, no gun on his hip, only sweat on his forehead from an honest day of work.

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