"But The Creator Doesn't Want Us To Use Toby!!!" Bold Of You To Assume I Have Any Respect For K*stoway

marble afffirmations

based on this

Toby - Songbird

It’s been a while since I’ve written something darker, huh? Just been in a funk lately and wanted to get this out

Content Warnings: 16+ (GN reader as always), Yandere, Unhealthy relationships, Obsessive behavior, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Punishment/Torture, Depictions of violence, Sadism, Grinding (but no sex, just a warning), Toby just gets really ‘excited’ over violence

Toby had always been so warm.

His smile projected vibrancy and love, his eyes shone brightly as if they were made up of crystals, and he always had a deep, comforting warmth to his presence. It was what had drawn you into him at first when you’d bumped into him that day at a park. He had drawn you in with his charm, and he’d been drawn in by your acceptance. He’d explained it had always been hard to make friends with his severely slow speech and occasional stutters, for his tics that would flow through his body, but you’d never cared. You hadn’t cared, but maybe you should have.

For someone so warm, it was horrifying how cold he could become.

You didn’t know when it had started, but at some point, Toby had started spending a lot more time with you. Accompanying you almost everywhere, or ‘bumping into you’ on accident in public spaces. You hadn’t thought much at the time, but perhaps it had been your first warning. It was how fast things had changed that was so jarring to you. One day, the two of you were eating ice cream and laughing at cheesy jokes. The next, you were chained up in his house with bruises along your body and fear blazing within you. For someone so warm, his eyes had looked absolutely frozen that day, peering down at you in anger.

“Hey… Please stop crying… Show- Show me… That smile I love… So much.” It had taken him even longer than normal to get the words out, his body trembling in anger at your disappointment, your fear, your protest.

“Toby, just let me go, please! Let me go home! I’ll give you whatever you want, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone!” You’d screamed in protest, sobs wracking your body as you struggled against the chains. Your loud voice had him shaking even more, tears running down his own face as he fell to the floor in front of you.

“Please… D-don’t scream… At me like that- y-you know how… How much it hurts me…” The enunciation placed upon 'hurts’, the raw emotion he had put into it had you feeling sick. As if you weren’t hurting right now, with injuries all over you, and chains much too tight digging into you.

Toby tended to run hot and cold, and that was something you’d learn fast.

There were two sides to him, two opposites. On one hand, he could be so absolutely tender with you. Running his hands softly through your hair and shushing you gently, smoothing his fingers over your injuries and caring for them, pressing tender kisses across your flesh. He could be so loving, so absolutely caring and tender. Perhaps that was why his other side was so terrifying, so absolutely horrendous to deal with. Because, when he wasn’t caring, he was-

“I-I’m doing… This for YOU! Why a-a-are you… Trying to stop me?!” He’d screamed at you as he dragged you across the ground. You flailed around, kicking your legs about and crying as you tried to escape his grasp.

“I just want to go home!!” You’d choked out, voice strained and breaking from how much you’d been yelling, how often you’d been crying.

“You are home!” He’d yelled back. He’d finally gotten you inside the house, throwing you in and locking the door behind him. He’d been on you in a second, pinning you down with his full weight.

“This… Hurts me more… Than it hurts you… But if I can’t… Trust you..” He’d heaved out, shifting himself to be sitting on your stomach as he grasped at your feet. It had been unfortunate in your case, the fact that he’d had so many tools laying about the kitchen at that time.

You hadn’t even realized what had happened until the pain registered in your mind. Your right ankle throbbed incessantly, and you’d thrown your head back with an earsplitting wail without even realizing it. He’d taken the sledgehammer again, and repositioned himself, swinging it down upon your left ankle this time. He’d rose off of you, letting you lay there to sob and scream as you curled in on yourself, clutching at your legs.

“How pitiful… Those cries are.” He’d said after a moment. The look he gave you had the breath you’d been choking on freeze in your throat. Such cruelty, such violence, such hatred- you’d never seen such a shiveringly cold gaze. “My… Poor little Songbird…” He’d cooed at you, arms crossed and a haughty huff leaving his chest.

When Toby wasn’t kind, he was inexplicably cruel. Really, it was usually up to you to flip the coin and find out which side you were going to get. Eventually, he’d moved you out of the basement, and into a newly renovated room in his little shack in the woods. It was small, with nothing more than a bed and a dresser, but that wasn’t what had caught your eyes. No, it was the metal. The golden metal curving around the walls, across the window, across the door to the room.

It was a gilded birdcage.

“A perfect little cage… For my perfect little Songbird…” He’d cooed to you excitedly, nuzzling into you, begging for affection and attention, so absolutely proud of himself and what he’d had done to the room. You wanted to vomit.

It was common for the two of you to spend most of your time in there. He’d curl up with you on the bed, trying to get all of your attention and rambling about anything and everything, and you just tried to not lose yourself to the insanity slowly settling into your mind.

“Hey… Kiss me…” It wasn’t a question, and so you’d pressed a kiss to his cheek, and his eyes screamed out at you to keep going, so you’d pressed small, chaste kisses across his face, ending with one on his lips. His eyes grew lidded as he leaned into you, pressing his lips to yours again and again and again.

You’d tried to pull back, and in hindsight that had been a bad decision, but at the moment you’d just felt too overwhelmed, felt a strong need for space, but with Toby space didn’t exist.

“Hey… Did I say… You could stop?” The darkness to his voice and the emptiness in his eyes did little to calm you, and you struggled to push out an answer, but he hadn’t given you the chance.

“I’m the one in charge… I tell you what you can and can’t do…” He’d maneuvered himself on top of you, pinning you to the mattress, licking his lips as a sickening giggle left his throat.

“Should I… Punish you?” Before you could grasp onto his words, he was already at work. His teeth had gnawed into the skin of your shoulder, piercing in firm and painful, allowing blood to flow out of the wound, and next was a spot on the nape of your neck before he’d pulled back.

You gazed up at him through the tears cascading down your face, chest heaving, and he’d pulled up one of your arms, pressing a soft kiss to the tender skin of your wrist and closing his eyes in peace. Then, he’d reopened his eyes, and just as they’d met yours, he’d bitten down, tearing open the skin of your arm. The look upon his face was much too sensual for the acts of violence he’d been committing, and as he licked at your wounds, you couldn’t help but wince and gasp at the sting.

“That’s right… Sing for me… My pretty little Songbird…” He’d leaned back down to your ear, and pressed a kiss to it, before whispering in a dangerously psychotic tone, “Remember, Songbird… You’re useless without me… My poor pet can’t… Take care of themselves… I take good care of you, so… Stop disobeying me.” Fear had overtaken your form, and you shuddered beneath him.

He’d giggled giddily as he pulled back and gazed down at you, blood smeared across his lips and teeth, an emotion so disgustingly sickening that you hated to call 'love’ shining within his eyes. He’d tenderly stroked his thumb across your lips, and you gazed up at him. Small. Docile. With the amount of blood you were already losing, any more punishments could be dangerous. Not dangerous enough to kill you, no, he’d never allow that. Just dangerous enough to greatly increase suffering.

“Your pain… Always gets me so… Hot inside…” He’d giggled again, pushing his hips against you, and he’d leaned down to capture your lips in another forceful kiss.

“Disobey me… Again,” he’d started between kisses, “And maybe… I’ll bite… Your lips off… Mmm, that would be… Good... Although, I guess I’d miss… Kissing you like this…” He slotted his hips against you again, and as you grasped at his hair in shock he’d whined against you, whispering words of encouragement through his giggles of excitement.

“Yes… Grab onto me… Yank at me… God, just touch me…” He’d moaned out as he continued to grind into you, lapping at the drying blood on your skin and whining like it was the best thing he’d ever experienced.

It was scary. How fast he could change between dominating you and begging you to dominate him. But, of course-

“Keep touching me… Or maybe I’ll take away… Your arms, too…” His face was flushed red, eyes dilating at the thought, and he’d groaned as you shivered against him in fear.

It was all just a game to him, a game of domination and control, a game you weren’t sure you’d ever win. After all, by the end of that night, you’d had five more bites pierced through your flesh, edging him on. After all, there was no more intoxicating combination in his opinion than the sound of your crying and pain being inflicted upon you, your blood shining so brightly across your skin.

You were helpless against him. He greatly overpowered you in strength, and with your legs damaged beyond repair and your body chained to the cage you were locked within, there was no way out. You were stuck here, as a plaything, a toy, a source for pain and torture. A way for him to seek companionship, to seek pleasure.

His precious little Songbird.

me trying to force my blorbos into every situation i can think of

THAC at Conneticon 2014

troywagner timsutton and josephdelage make the best faces

birth of a bnha fanfiction you wont regret reading 🌚

burning storms — prologue

╰┈➤ fandom — BNHA

╰┈➤ pairing — dabi x narukami [oc]

╰┈➤ trigger warnings — mentions of torture, references to alcohol and smoking, mild descriptions of violence, swearing. as the story progresses, there will be more graphic descriptions of violence in future chapters.

╰┈➤ word count — 3401

"What are they doing to her?"

"You know that's none of our business. She's a villain who poses a threat to our society- whatever they're doing to her, they're doing it for our safety."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

The second guy's response was lost as they moved out of earshot. But the girl, lying on the cot and facing the slate-grey wall that had been her constant companion the last month or two, took this all in without any outward reactions. She was used to this by now: guards who could barely look her in the eyes when they came to bring her food she was half-sure had been spat in, and when they did, their eyes were filled with revulsion, hatred, but also fear.

It was quite laughable, how she was bound with Quirk suppression cuffs that rendered her quite useless in combat and trapped in a room with no windows and a heavy metal door reinforced with a code, a security keycard and God knew what else—and yet they still eyed her with apprehension, as if they were frightened of what she was capable of. As if they expected lightning to strike through the reinforced walls of this godforsaken government base and strike them down where they stood at her command.

On her part, she should have lost her sanity long ago. Their torture should have had her on her knees a week into her captivity, begging for the pain to stop and willingly giving up whatever information they wanted. But she hadn't, and her sanity was still very much intact. Which was a very good thing for herself, not so much for whoever the hell it was who decided to keep her immured in here, pumping her for information day in, day out.

Of course, she wondered how long she could hold out for. After all, she was presumed dead to the world and no one knew of her whereabouts save for, well, the Hero Public Safety Commission and the government. She was almost certain they had arranged for her to be placed here instead of in Tartarus. For what reason, she wasn't entirely sure. It didn't mean she didn't have her suspicions, though.

Whatever they wanted from her was important enough to justify keeping her alive and in their clutches, and it seemed that they had all the time in the world to get it out of her by whatever means necessary. Who was to say that after they got it out of her, they wouldn't promptly dispose of her in Tartarus or, even worse, silence her permanently? The latter option seemed more likely.

The sound of the familiar digital beep and the metallic click of the locks unlatching as the 4-digit code was keyed into the keypad that served as the second line of defense against her escape filled her ears, drawing her out of her train of thought. On instinct, she pulled her legs against her chest and curled into a fetal position, before realising what she was doing and relaxing her muscles. .

"Show no fear" was the lesson the Hero Public Safety Commission drilled into her from day one. “Your fear is how they control and manipulate you. If they have that, then they can make you dance to whatever tune they please.”

This, then, was her defense. Not a strike of lightning that would shock their hearts to a full stop, or a blast of electricity that could cook a man from the inside out. Instead, her defense would be her wit, her sarcasm and a smile that showed them that she was perfectly alright. As if their torture was merely amusing instead of giving her nightmares so terrifying she was afraid to let herself fall asleep every night.

"You know, you've been a pain in the ass for the past two months."

The girl swallowed down her fear, keeping her expression blank and trained on the wall as her cracking, dry lips curved into a smirk. "I've been trying to be one, in case you haven't noticed yet."

Her clever remark didn't faze him at all. Rather, it was like water off a duck's back as the man replied coolly, "Miss Kuwahara, our patience is wearing thin. It is in your best interest to give up any and all information we desire regarding the League of Villains and any future attacks they are planning—"

"'My best interest'? I believe that is rather rich, coming from you." The girl pushed herself into a sitting position and crossed her legs but her gaze didn't move from the smooth, grey concrete wall. "You speak of having my best interests in mind while you have me in chains, imprisoned behind a heavy metal door guarded with at least two people, a code and probably a keycard, along with the daily torture sessions you seem to enjoy giving out like candy?" Her voice remained flat, but it gained a dangerous edge that was the only indication of her rising anger. Her fingers twitched as she reached for the familiar stinging sensation of violet lightning at her fingertips that would never come—

"What if the charges against you could be dropped and you could go free?"

At that, she broke eye contact with the wall and finally turned her eyes on the man, whose lips were curved into a pleased smirk at finally having her full attention. "All the charges, dropped?" She asked casually, although inside, her heart was racing even faster than before. "And here I was under the impression that I was important to the government. You would let me go for a few words?"

"A few words that would go a long way towards bringing our society back to a peaceful one." He paused for a fraction of a second. "If I may be frank, Miss Kuwahara, the League of Villains threatens the peace that the Hero Public Safety Commission has worked hard to maintain. Peace that we worked hard to earn shortly after the Quirk phenomenon emboldened criminals and nearly caused a breakdown of our society."

"And why, pray tell," she asked, her violet eyes darting to the floor as she leaned back against the wall, "should I care about your peace?" The last word was spoken with a derisive sneer.

"If not for the good of society," the man shrugged, "do it for yourself. You have always been forced to put someone else before yourself, have you not? You've put the League of Villains before yourself, fighting on the front lines for the likes of All for One. You've, regrettably enough, been forced to put the HPSC before yourself, too. But deep down, don't you desire your freedom more than anything else?"

He folded his arms, a smug expression on his face. "All we want in return is information that should be readily available to you. You worked with the League of Villains for a time, recruited by All for One, no less. You would have been in a position to know plenty about what their plans: their endgame, their plans for any future attacks, the location of their hideout, et cetera. Naturally, your name will be kept out of it. Anything, no matter how small, helps."

The girl's expression was hidden in shadows, but she was definitely pondering the offer. Her freedom was right in front of her, and all she had to do to earn it was answer a few questions she would know the answer to. The man's grin widened as he watched her open her mouth, waiting for her to say the words that would seal her fate and turn the tides on the villains in the eternal war between the heroes and the villains--

"I refuse."

His grin slipped as her lips curved into a smug smile at the blatant shock that was showing on his face. "Whatever information I have is the only reason I'm being kept alive, is it not? No one will be able to testify to any sort of deal between us, except for you and I. And between us both, whose word is going to carry more weight?"

"I suggest," the man spoke through gritted teeth, "that you get to your point, Miss Kuwahara. What is the relevance of what you are saying?"

"Ah, my apologies. I believe what I meant to say, amid the rambling I was doing, is that I'm not an idiot." The girl spat, turning an icy violet gaze on him that would have reduced a grown man with less guts than him to a blubbering mess. "Once I give up the information you've been attempting to beat out of me for the past two months, what's going to stop you from claiming that we never had a deal? From having me assassinated and promptly disposed of? After all, no one is aware of my status."

"Are you suggesting that our esteemed President is a liar?" His tone was indifferent, but he took a step forward in an attempt to have her cowering against the wall. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't so easily cowed. "I would consider the next words you say very, very carefully, Kuwahara Reina."

She folded her arms. "I'm not suggesting it. I'm saying that she is one, and so are you. What reason would your "esteemed President" have to keep me alive? After covering up the murder of the previous President? I am one of the few who knows the truth. Would she really want me out and about, possibly exposing two of the darkest secrets of the Commission?"

The man didn't have a response to that, so she pushed on. "I'd like you to tell your esteemed President exactly where she can stuff her deal. And also, tell her that one doesn't sell out family that easily. I'm sure she'll understand."

"Very well, Kuwahara." The man replied ungraciously, turning on his heel and pressing a keycard against a reader beside the heavy metal door and keying in a code. "The offer is off the table the second I leave this room," he warned. "You'll be sorry you missed this opportunity at freedom. Let's see how long you can hold out before you're begging to tell me everything."

The girl merely smiled as the door slammed shut behind his retreating figure. The minute the locks clicked into place, she let out a sigh, all the bravado and energy she had previously exhibited disappearing as she slumped back against the cot.

Kuwahara Reina was truly alone.

—

"Be quick. I have a meeting in ten minutes."

Taguchi Teruo stifled a frustrated sigh. The Kuwahara girl was obstinate, which the Commission president had warned him about. He clearly had underestimated just how far her obstinacy went.

"She didn't take it."

The line went silent for a moment. "President?" Taguchi asked tentatively.

"It was to be expected. That girl is just like her father—stubborn, willful and impossible to control. Although I didn't expect her to see through the lie so easily. I must have misjudged her."

"President, she knows that the information she holds is the only reason she's alive. She won't give it up so easily, we should just dispose of her instead—"

"That's where you're wrong, Taguchi. Our sources say that girl was personally recruited by All for One into the League. She was in a position to know plenty of his schemes. She is more valuable to us alive than dead. Use whatever methods necessary, mentally break her if you must, but we must ensure that whatever information Kuwahara Reina was privy to ends up in our hands."

"President, with all due respect—"

"This is not up for discussion, Taguchi. Put the report of today's interview with her into the evidence box and try again tomorrow. I expect a call for you at the same time tomorrow, updating me on your progress. Every day you fail to get anything out of her is another day closer the villains get to destroying this society we have worked so hard to maintain. Don’t screw this up.”

Before Taguchi could reply, there was a click and a dial tone. Cursing under his breath, he stuffed his phone into his pocket, stalking in the direction of the confidential evidence room.

Throwing open the door with a loud bang, he headed straight for the shelves, locating the white cardboard box with the number ‘#656700’ in the dingy light and opened the box a crack, dropping his written report into it.

Before he could drop the lid, a hand clapped over Taguchi’s mouth and he felt a sharp, stinging pain on the side of his neck as a small, slender syringe entered the vein. Taguchi thrashed violently, his arms flailing as he attempted to land a hit on his attacker. Unfortunately, the medication that was now coursing through his bloodstream was too strong. Gradually, his thrashes became weaker and slower as black spots flooded his vision, growing bigger and bigger until his eyes finally fluttered shut and his movements ceased completely.

The man who had taken him down slowly eased his body onto the floor, taking the needle that had been stuck into his neck and yanking the plunger out. Staring at the crimson liquid that filled the hollow cylinder, a wide, uncharacteristic grin split his face as he spoke into the microphone wire strapped to his wrist.

“Phase 1, complete!”

—

A few minutes later back at the League of Villains hideout, Shigaraki was haphazardly pulling files out of a white cardboard box that was labelled with the number ‘656700’ and tossing them onto the bar table.

“Are you sure you got the correct box, Toga?” He barked at the ash-blonde haired girl who was giggling on his left, a glass of apple juice clutched in her hands.

“Aww, c’mon Shiggy!” The teenager whined, taking a big gulp of apple juice. “I triple-checked the number before I left! I’m sure it’s the right one!” She made a face. “Their blood tasted awful!” At that, Toga swallowed another gulp of juice.

Shigaraki scowled, pulling the final file out of the box. The entire box just comprised of files, files and more files. "You're sure the operation was a success?" He retorted.

Toga nodded cheerily. "Of course! No one noticed me, right up until Kurogiri warped me out. I hid the bodies reeeeeally well, no one's going to notice they're gone for a long, long, long time!" She gasped, draining the last of her apple juice. "Does this mean I'm really a part of the League now?"

The man sighed. He couldn't deny that Toga's Quirk was going to be extremely useful to the League going forward, especially for missions like these that relied heavily on espionage for success. "Fine. Whatever." He scoffed, knocking the box off the table.

Ignoring Toga's squealing over her acceptance into the League, Shigaraki and Kurogiri begun sorting through the paperwork that had once been neatly sorted into the box, now scattered all over the smooth wooden surface of the bar table.

"This seems to be the most recent report. It was dated today," Kurogiri observed, a report clutched in his hands as he picked up the box Shigaraki had carelessly discarded, placing it back on a section of the table that wasn't covered in paper or files. "'She knows that whatever information she holds on the League of Villains is the only reason she's not being disposed of, and so she refuses to give it up. Has displayed deep loyalty to the League of Villains despite previous attempts to mentally break her, breaking her resolve will require further investigation into her weaknesses...'"

"Remind me why you're wasting manpower attempting to recruit a prisoner?" A low voice drawled from the back of the hideout. A man with a shock of black hair lounged on a couch near the door, taking a long drag of his cigarette as his turquoise eyes flashed with barely-concealed annoyance. "If she was useless enough to be captured, what makes you think she would be of any use to our plan?"

Before Shigaraki could explode at the man, Kurogiri cut in. "The fact that she is being held by the government at the request of the Hero Public Safety Commission shows that she is very important to both organizations in some way. If we capture her, it would deal them a devastating blow. And if this report is to be believed," he gestured at the sheet of paper he was holding without glancing up, laying it aside and picking up another file, "she is both loyal to and has information on us which is all the more reason to sway her to our side."

Shigaraki threw another file into the box. "Makes no sense,' he muttered. "None of this makes sense."

"Shigaraki." Kurogiri spoke up. The latter's voice had a quiet ring of authority to it that made the former glance up, giving him his full attention. Whatever it was, it seemed to be important.

Kurogiri said nothing—just silently passed over a file labelled 'PRISONER 656700' which the blue-haired man flipped open. As his eyes scanned the content of the file, his muscles seemed to tense and, in the dim light of the hideout, his ashen skin seemed to lose even more colour, if that was even possible. "This changes everything." Shigaraki muttered.

Both men's voices dropped to a whisper as Shigaraki started to gesticulate furiously, a contrast to Kurogiri's composed figure. "Fine. For the sake of my goal to destroy All Might and hero society." Shigaraki eventually snapped, his voice back to normal volume, turning away from the dark mist figure. "Dabi. You're going to this government base to break out prisoner number 656700. I'll send you the address when we finalise the plan."

"Send Toga, she'll be more efficient," was the black haired man's reply, taking yet another drag of the cigarette.

"She did her part, it's your turn to prove yourself. And besides, we want it to be as loud and hard-to-cover-up as possible. Incinerate as many people as it takes, burn the place to the fucking ground if that's what you want, but ensure that she comes out alive and that you get prisoner 656700, Narukami, back here before she ends up pissing off the government so much they decide to kill her instead."

"Why the hell does she matter so much? Is she your secret girlfriend or something?" Dabi fired a glare at the leader of the League of Villains. "I have no use for a useless, second-rate piece of trash who got herself captured in the first place."

"Ask her yourself when you break her out," was the only response he got before a picture was chucked in his direction, landing on the ground by his feet. "That's her. Make sure you got the right person."

Dabi huffed, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray lying on the low table in front of him and scooping up the picture. "Maybe she'll make a good meat shield," he snarked. Ignoring Toga's squealing over a new member of the League joining them and how much she hoped they would be best friends, he stalked out of the room and towards the corridor which held the various rooms where the members of the League slept in.

Walking down the long hallway, he stopped to glance down at the picture. The girl photographed, dressed in the bright orange jumpsuit that was worn by every prisoner, stared straight ahead at the camera, her expression vacant as if she had long since forgotten how to smile. Her hair, a pale lavender shade, fell to her chest in tangled locks. But her eyes were her most striking feature. Despite her state of captivity, she didn't look broken or resigned to her fate at all. Her eyes were calculating as she stared into the lens of the camera, as if she was attempting to gauge the distance between an unseen door and the time it would take to slit the throats of the guards in the room. Even in a photo, he could swear that her gaze was burning a hole in the wall behind the person taking the picture.

And a lot of good it would do her, he thought with an amused smirk.

Maybe, just maybe, this Narukami would prove to be something more than cannon fodder when things got ugly.

A/N: if you made it this far, thank you so much for giving my fic a chance! any kind of support means the world to me :)

Toby's reaction/response to being told that he is a major comfort and that his tics dont make him any less lovable by a reader that isn't his s/o quite yet?

{Ty in advance, Toby is a huge comfort}

-Toasty anon 🌸

Ah, a nice budding romance with some sweet fluff. Love this stuff

Toby is a big bundle of insecurities about himself. Toby wants to be a kind, caring, loving presence for those around him amidst all of his struggles, and he especially wants to be that for you, the person starting to worm their way deeper into his heart, deeper than anyone else has been in a big, long while, and it's intimidating for him.

Toby often gets nervous that he comes on too strong with you, that he annoys you too much, and that you don't find him as welcoming as he wants to come across as. It starts to become obvious, his nervousness, and that's what prompts you to end up stepping in and telling him those sweet comments of yours. It happens when the two of you are laying side by side one day in his bed, just chilling on a cold fall day, and the words just come tumbling out of you. That you feel so comfortable around him, that he's such a warm, comforting, wholesome presence to you, that all of his tics, all those little things about himself that he hates, they never bothered you in the slightest bit, that you love being around him and spending time with him. 

Toby takes a while to process your words, to let them truly sink in, and then before he realizes it he's shaking, tears falling down his face, his face all scrunched up from it, and you're pulling him into your chest, wrapping him up in a big hug. He loves you, he's IN love with you, even if he doesn't realize it yet, but he will, and he will soon. That's why it means so much to him to hear you say that, to reassure his insecurities without him even having to mention them, and it just feels so good to be held like this by you, to be comforted by you amidst all of his emotions. You're everything he's needed and wanted, even if he isn't fully cognizant of that fact yet, but with your presence by his side, he'll realize it soon, and so will you. It'll be a wonderful, emotionally romantic day when that time comes, but for now, you're content to stay wrapped up in each other's presence like this.

eNVy snuggles,, (non-sexual, they’re robots.)

art i did for marble hornets’ 14th anniversary !!

I'm sorry, but every time I think about LJ smut, all I can think about is using his nose as a fucking dildo and- lmaoo it kills me

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHA