#it's been bad rains and cloudy days in my head for a while now

[thats-cantorintuitive]

small update

ok so um I got my number theory paper today, and the TA had cut marks for me because i left the answer at 66^2 and not 4356 (fermat's little theorem) 😔 I even wrote the full proof

my friend told me I should mail the TA about this, I got 14/20 and should be getting 17or18/20 😔

scores aside, number theory is so much fun, so much fun. the only good thing here is that I know the concepts well, and I fully knew the paper (still fucked it up, because I'm so frickin slow while writing and time). and it hurts worse because there's not enough proof that validates my knowledge. which in turn makes me question if i actually do have any.

I am, in general, a person who does well in concepts but screws up the exams (70% of the time) and I'm trying, I'm trying to get myself out of this "exam paniK" that I often spiral into, just minutes before the exam. I hope I change and grow; I hope, I hope.

[thedevilsoftruth]

The winter soldier making you squirt multiple times and getting mean and rough when you whine about the overstimulation? Cuz baby he ain't doing this for you, he's doing it for himself.

(I'm a whore for him🙏)

Hi anon! Thank you so much for your request. This one is super juicy, and I apologize if I added something's you don't really like. Ive been having a tough day and got a bit carried away writing this. Oops. Also I apologize for getting to this so late!!! - Mama Devil 💜

Pretty when you cry.

Dark!Winter Solider x f! Reader

Smut tags: bucky being a mean dom, d/s dynamic, bdsm elements, slapping, spanking, punishment, making you count, inappropriate usage of a belt, multiple orgasms, squirting, orgasm denial, overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, reader calls bucky 'sir', cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit, name calling (whore, fucktoy) piv sex, rough sex, rope burns, reader pretty much sobs the entire time... Like. She cries a lot. This is kinda dark, and if you aren't into bdsm I wouldn't recommend reading this!! not beta read.

W/c - 1.5 K

Song recommended - Pretty When You Cry by Vast.

I do NOT consent to my work being reposted or translated onto any website!

MDNI! I am NOT responsible for what you find on the internet!

[my request box is open. PLEASE see my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules!]

Your mind is cloudy, your nose stuff, your throat burning and your chest tightening from all of the crying you had been doing. When he had first started, the sun was still up. Now it's pitch black and raining outside. But the rain wouldn't be heard over your loud sniffles and quiet moans as he stuffed his fingers back into you for the sixth time that night. It was just too much. Your hips were jerking, your legs squirming everywhere, and your pussy absolutely pulsing a curled his thick, cold metal fingers halfway into your sloppy pussy.

You felt like you couldn't breathe. Sweaty palms reached out for his leather clad torso, your hips backing and dipping into the wet mattress as if you were trying to get away from him. A flash of anger spread across his face, and he growled as he withdrew his finger from you and slapped the inside of your thigh harsh. The skin where he hit was red in the matter of seconds, and so were his hands on your jaw and on your stomach.

"Stop fucking moving." He spat, his tone so angry that it made you believe he hated you.

"Sir," you stuttered through a sob, your voice cracked from how bad your throat hurt. The sobs quickly turn back into moans when his hands were back on your pussy.

"Stop, please." Your breath shook as he circled a metal finger around your impossibly wet entrance. "'s to much, sir, i--"

He pushed into you fast and hard with no warning. You yelped.

"Does my little whore want to be restrained again?" He asks smoothly and calmly as he licks a fat strip down the back of your ear. You shuddered, the skin on your wrists burning just at the thought of the thick black ropes he used on you earlier being around your arms again.

"No, sir." You mutter In defeat.

You didn't even know why you had even asked.

"That's what I thought. Now be a good little whore and take it."

His fingers went back into you in fast thrusts. His teeth sunk into the crook of your neck, and his metal thumb curled harsh, unrelenting circles around your throbbing clit.

You gasped, repeatedly, and your hips stuttered into his hand while your walls pulsated and clenched around him uncontrollably. Hot tears ran down your cheeks harder while he moved against you even harder. You couldn't take it. The overstimulation was too much.

So, your little pussy not knowing any better, did what it thought best, and decided to squirt all over his hand.

Your mouth went silent. Your thick things closed around his arm instinctively before you could stop yourself. He grunted and pushed your thighs back open with the slap of the inside of one of them.

"Fucking greedy little thing." His head dipped down and his fingers withdrew from your cunt. Your breath hitched and you bit your lip, tightening a muscle In your cunt as you prepared for his mouth to go back on you. The moment his lips even grazed you, you were spiraling. Your head tipped back into the sheets, the back of your neck and your scalp covered in sweat.

"Cumming all over me like that," he growled, licking a long line up your drooling folds. "Just don't know any better, huh, baby?" His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he gave you a fake pout and a tone that was so condescending it made you want to claw at your skin.

"'s okay." He said, sitting up on his knees, slow and dangerous. "I'll make you learn."

Out came his belt from the loops of his black cargo pants. Your thighs snapped shut. He hadn't fucked you yet, and if this was what you were thinking it was, you were absolutely undoubtably not ready for it.

"Wait--" you try to stop him, but he's already got his hardened, angry red cock free from his pants.

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes squinting like he's looking down upon you. Like you just said the stupidest thing on earth.

To him, you did.

"Wait, what?" He repeats, his head falling to the other side while he gently strokes himself.

"I've already cum so much tonight. I can't take anymore." You tell him. He laughs. He full on laughs at you like you were a comedian and just cracked the funniest joke ever.

Big hands force your shaking legs open. Your hands go on his chest, but he grabs your wrists and pins them down by your head with a loud grunt.

"You're so pathetic." He hisses. His grip on you is so strong that it forces tears to run down your hot cheeks harder. The hold he has on you hurts more than the rope. "It's honestly kind of cute." He smiles. "But this isn't about you. I don't fucking care how many times you've cum. I'm in control here, you're my little plaything, and I get to do what I want."

His cockhead runs down your soaked slit. Your hips jerk, but he slams them back down onto the bed with a giant flesh hand.

"Let me take what I want, and stay the fuck down." He says, his blue eyes staring into yours in a way that you can only describe as angered. Your body shakes, and your lips quiver as you part them to squeak out the words, "yes sir" with a pathetic nod of your head.

His lips curl into a sadistic grin, and he slowly slides his cock into your abused cunt. A loud cry leaves your mouth, but he's quick to silence you with his tongue down your throat. He wastes no time bottoming out and rocking his lips into you hard. Not when your pussy let him in so easily and eagerly. He pulls back and gives a pat to your cheek.

"look at you, baby." He groans, looking down between your joined bodies where his cock was thrusting into your pussy. "Taking me like the perfect little fucktoy you are." His lips pull back, his cock slipping out by just a few inches before he slammed into you.

Your mouth flew open and your thighs clenched around his thick hips. He was so big. So big, it hurt. So big you were crying at the thought of his tip reaching your cervix.

"See? It could have been so easy like this. But you just had to go and complain like a brat." A metal hand comes down on your ass hard. You yelp, and hot tears run down your cheek when you close your eyes by the impact instinctively.

"But it's okay. My little whores gonna learn that I don't fuck her to please her; I fuck her because I need to." He hissed through gritted teeth, setting a brutal pace for you that had your tits bouncing and your eyes flooding with tears.

His hand comes down to rub your clit for just a few seconds, and your pussy clamps down on him like you're gonna cum again.

"Oh?? Are you gonna cum again?" He croons, rubbing your clit around slowly. A gutteral moan leaves your lips and you nod.

"Aww," he smiles. "That's too bad."

He pulls out of you with a grunt, leaving you to feel cold and empty without his cock inside you. You whine and throw your head down like you're already done with his shit.

"Sir..." You whine. He spanks your pussy, immediately shutting you up.

"Nuh-uh. You don't get to 'sir' me. Not after all you've done. You're gonna sit back and take your punishment like the whore you are."

He pulls back and spits on your pussy before he spreads it around your folds with the tip of his cock. You whimper and sob when his cockhead rubs your overstimulated clit up and down.

Suddenly, he pulls away and sits back in his knees. He bends down off the edge of the bed and picks up the black leather belt he had previously discarded. Your mouth goes dry.

"I want you to sit across my lap. On all fours." He says sternly, running a hand down the smooth leather of his belt. You hesitate for several moments, almost wanting to defy him. Instead you swallow your pride and hold your tongue back.

"Unless you'd prefer my metal hand." He threatens, holding the hand out and flexing his fingers. You shake your head, and your body moves in an instant.

In just a few seconds, you're in position across his lap. He groans when he sees the way your back arches when he ran the leather of his belt down the curve of your ass.

"Count."

"What?"

Spank!

"Fucking count, whore." He barks, raising his hand high in the air. You look down at the messy red sheets with wide eyes, your arms trembling, and your knees threatening to give out.

The belt cracks loudly as it falls onto your already reddened ass. You cry out and grip the sheets, the sounds of your sniffles and your yelp making his cock ache to be back inside you.

"One," you mutter weakly.

The second one comes down on you harder.

"Two,"

The third one is somehow even harder than the last. The flesh where he hits stings and burns, and each spank jolts your body forward by the force of his hits.

He spanks you one last time before he throws the belt back down onto the floor. It hits the floor with a loud metallic sound, and he gently rubs the skin on your ass apologetically.

"You can lay back down now." He says, his tone sweeter than it was before. Your entire body burns and aches. Your knees shake as you crawl back into the bed, your pussy shivering at the thought of "what could he possibly do next?"

You lay back down with a grunt, your lower back muscles feeling tight and your ass sore. Your eyes are bright red and glassy, your cheeks tear stained.

He smiles at the sight sadistically. He wants to see how much he'll get you to cry whenever he makes you bounce on his cock.

"Oh, baby." He cooes, running his warm hands up your thighs. "You look so pretty when you cry."

[tommiieimagiines]

“The scent may drive me half

insane, but maybe you’ll see me

then.”

Rui Kamishiro Hanahaki

part one part two

(coming soon!)

anything to say, tommie?♪

hi, guys! this is part one of a two-part series with our favorite punching bag, rui! this is very heavy, all of the resolution will be in the next part. i just wanted to get something out for you all! this IS in response to an ask, but i think tumblr ate it! i’m gonna look for it, so if i find it i’ll reply!

anyway, wow! it has been a terrible couple months!! i am very unwell. i’m sorry about me ghosting you guys all the time, but here we are! here’s my psycho-babble-bullshit philosophical thinking and existential dread in the format of an x reader project sekai fanfiction. i am beyond saving.

i’ll quit talking! just wanna let you know this two-parte is probably the last pjsk thing i’m gonna write in a while

mewnies warning𖦹

this is VERY gorey and has MANY mentions of d€4th/s3w1c1de/1llness. (sorry if tumblr doesn’t care about those words but i’ll censor just in case(looking back i’m realizing that i say it all the time in the fic anyway so idc…)) has in detailed descriptions of puking as well. reader is kinda stupid in this, but what’s new? meow!

It started with a cough.

It was subtle at first. Honestly, he had thought he’d pulled something in his chest at rehearsal the day prior. It wasn’t anything to write home about; a dull ache that could be easily overlooked.

“It could be worse,” he says, staring at the mirror. On a worse day, he’d scold himself for talking to himself, then lament at the fact he actually scolded himself, but today, he felt a little self-pity at the state of his body.

Christ, he needs to chill out. Why had he woken up so erratic?

The walk to school was more or less unremarkable. You two hadn’t coordinated walking together that morning, so it did get pretty lonely. He ended up narrating everything he was doing in his head to pass the time, something that was—admittedly—not out of character. It was a bad habit he’d have to break one of these days, he knows. Not today though, maybe next week when his chest isn’t so heavy. His chest does feel pretty heavy—the sky is cloudy today, isn’t it? Maybe it’ll rain. He hopes no snails come from the ground. He hates watching out for them while he walks. The air seems misty, though, huh?

That morning at school, he hadn’t felt great. He had this fullness in his lungs he just couldn’t get to go away. No matter how hard he coughed, the pressure just wouldn’t release. Now, he’d never been in the best health, so it wasn’t unusual for him to be sick, but you’d think he would’ve felt something the day before. He couldn’t recall feeling this amount of suffocating pain in his chest yesterday, save for when you were talking to that stupid upperclassman-

God, his chest really hurts!

He coughs again, this one curling his body over the desk and making him remember where he was. Will the inconvenience ever end?! He puts his head on the desk, letting a pitiful hand raise, begging for a pardon.

He locks eyes with an upperclassman in the hallway on accident, making his pulse quicken. He can’t believe the nerve of some people!

He catches himself, stopping for a moment. They were just walking—Whatever. He’s not himself today.

While his short interaction may have just been the most terrifying thing he’s ever done, coughing wildly in a public bathroom trumped it. Sure his voice may have cracked when he called the teachers name, and yes, everyone turned to look at him (thus interrupting their class time), but making a ruckus for other people to hear is where he drew the line. God, he really needs to get his act together before he officially has no chance with you, he’s so ridiculous.

Of course, he found it immature that his biggest worry at the moment was his troublesome feelings for his best friend, and not something of substance like grades or music, but that’s just who he is. (He’d never blame you for it.) Though the innate yearning that teenagers have for romance has been told of for years and years, he’ll—at times—stupidly talk himself into believing he’s the only one who has such perverse thoughts of others. It’s not like he doesn’t know it’s senseless, it’s just… whatever. In any case, it’s his own misfortune in of itself. (Which is not something he really needs right now, what with hacking up a lung and all.)

You’d probably think he looks so stupid right now, leaning over a dirty school toilet, kneeling on the dirty bathroom floor. You were the only opinion he just couldn’t shake. It seemed ironically fitting for a boy such as himself to be there; maybe getting sick was karma for being the way he is. He’d see later if he could try praying away his sin on the walk home. Ha!

Another cough wracks his body at the thought of your disgust, and a strange sense of adrenaline overtakes him; akin the feeling of fight or flight you get just before puking. He wracks his brain for the meaning of it all. Just why are you suddenly filling him with so much dread?—Well, more than usual. It’s conveniently almost enough to distract from the fact that he’s turning his body inside out.

Ah, too late.

The contents of his filthy stomach finally reach where he’s coughing from, pooling into a disgusting, viscose shape floating at the top of the water. He doesn’t have enough time to think about the sick, for he has continued to choke savagely on his own breath. He hacks for a while, for a moment he actually thinks this is where he will die. Will God truly subject him to the embarrassment of lying next to a dirty toilet full of bile? Can dead people even be embarrassed?—

What’s that?

His choking finally breaks, but he can’t feel relief for very long.

A small pink petal floats on the top of all the mess, he’s watched enough shows to know what it means. This may just be the first time in his life he hasn’t felt compelled to find out more. His brain goes fuzzy with understanding, for a moment he isn’t even there. He can’t reach a single image in his mind as he stares at the innocent symbol of youth and beauty.

He must’ve eaten something pretty crazy, huh? What a stupid boy he is, thinking that way. Ha! To think he’d fall victim to such nonsense! He should go outside more. Catching a rare, romanticized illness as a highschool boy? He isnt some girl. He doesn’t covet you so much as to die. He has a small crush—not even! A fondness!

He laughs for a while, running his hand through his hair as he stands up. He washes his hands just that much harder and only comes to when he notices the redness of them. When did that happen? He must’ve hit them on the desk, he can really be so careless! The automatic faucet no longer registers his hand as a humans and he curses it with annoyance. He feels so sorry he ever thought such a brain-dead idea. His anger is only heightened when he realizes he’ll have to walk back to class with pruny, red fingers. He really does hate that class, he must have another half hour-

The bell rings? But it’s only… 11? Ah, he must’ve been in class longer than he thought. He had only been in the bathroom for five minutes at most! Days feel shorter and shorter recently, maybe he’s been sleeping too much! He takes a sharp turn, his body subconsciously wandering to where you eat together with him. He doesn’t even heed the stares of his classmates, he’s stopped noticing actually, it’s not that big of a surprise, not like he’s been all that bothered much anymore. He doesn’t heed much of anything, now that he’s thinking—or struggling to think—about it.

He just sits with this blank stare, naturally waiting for you, as if you had to tag him out. He can’t hold an idea in his head for longer than a second, that is, until you walk by. The world stops spinning and he’s hit with a sudden overwhelming feeling of intoxication. Lucidity hits him like a thousand bricks, he can’t help from wondering if “they” are letting out hormones causing him to feel so good around you. What are “they”? Nothing. He doesn’t care to explain to any reader what’s going on. Some can be too stupid to understand.

A rise of euphoria bubbles into his throat and he can’t help but look at you with wide eyes. His good humor is back.

“Hi,” he breathes, his trance lifted.

Now, you (completely in the dark about this whole situation) didn’t exactly know why he was staring at you so intently. It made you feel the slightest bit self conscious, so you decided to inspect him further. His cheeks were blotchy, his pupils were blown, there was this strange stain on his collar—Jeez, what happened to his hands?

“Hi?” You make yourself comfortable next to him, pulling out your lunchbox. “We can go inside if it’s too wet, i just thought it might be nice—“

“No! It’s fine!” He shakes his head fervently. He does feel the need to do something, though. He doesn’t have any homework, and it’s not like he can play with his machines from school. He bounces his knee restlessly, trying desperately to start a conversation.

“So, h—“

“Are you—“

“Sorry, go ahead,” you prompt, not wanting to pass up an opportunity to hear him chat you up while in good spirits (very good, you noticed.) He’s been a little down in the dumps recently—not that you were paying extra attention to him or anything—so it was welcome.

This, however, was preposterous to him. The mere thought of taking up the sacred time he has with you with something as needless as what he had to say was sickening—sacrilege! He waves you off, his hands hasty from the rush.

“I was only gonna ask how your day was!” He blurts, the trembling of his body growing more and more apparent. He needs to hear all about it.

On a different day, he’d be a little more reluctant to be so obvious with you, but a parasite has turned him shameless. He would make an ass of himself to keep chasing this feeling, his chest feels so light he thinks he could faint. He hears the blood going to his ears, pounding into his skull with the fragility of a hammer. The monotonous world he was just in was bustling once again. He can’t help but feel giddy when you open your mouth.

You talk about nothing of particular importance. What you had for breakfast, who was in your first period, but despite the inconsequence, he’s desperately hung on every word. His head nods hastily, agreeing as if you were delivering a speech. He was sure that you’d be thrilled to have him listen so intently, but, if anything, your uneasiness only grew with each word he wasn’t speaking.

He was oblivious to your self-consciousness, as previously stated. Yes, there had to have been a small part of him that was mortified at the way he was acting, but he couldn’t find it in his whole self to mind. It would be redundant to say, once again, how desperate he was for the euphoria you brought him, so it won’t be recorded.

“Rui, are you… good?” You break him out of his mind, making him realize that he hadn’t been listening to your last few sentences. Damnit! How could he be so stupid as to ignore you? His excitement dulls for a moment, only a moment, at the feeling of worthlessness his ignorance has created. He’s terrified to go back to the anhedonia of his day—of his life?—without you. Is that how the rest of his life will be when you’re not around? Is grey what he will see until he dies?

Why would he die? He’s not suffering from anything, his chest just feels so tight recently. He probably pulled something at rehearsal the day before. Yes, that’s it. He recalls pulling something in his chest the day before. The excitement just messed with his memory, that’s all. No need to worry—

He coughs, his body curling in on itself once again, panicking. It was one thing to be alone and choking, to be disgusting in the comfort of his own company, but it’s another to hack up blood in front of you, having you watch as his body wracks itself from the strain. He waves his hands once again, desperate. He is fine... He has a small cold… Yes, he pulled something the day prior… He’s very clumsy….

He didn’t puke this time, he merely coughed up a petal. Ha! How odd it was to do such a thing!

Your horror is a given. It would be needless to say why, but it will be explained anyway (for the sake of clarity).

You had only learned about hanahaki from a recent showing of a musical he’d taken you to a few months ago. You had—admittedly—been slightly skeptical on the idea, thinking it was just another foreign concept for people to amuse themselves, but after a long debate on the topic, you had found out that it was, in fact, real (though uncommon).

It was a great shock to you that someone as agreeable as your best friend would be burdened with an illness of unrequited love. (In a moment of self reflection you would admit to yourself that he would be, in fact, very easy to love. You’d never say those words aloud, though, in fear of him getting the wrong idea.) The thought of your friend suffering from something so agonizing and potentially fatal was enough to make bile rise to your throat, but a new emotion soon followed it; anger. How dare someone not return his feelings? The nerve of this person to not want to spend their every moment with such a wonderful person is absurd! They must be an idiot, you couldn’t imagine being so dense.

He sees the color drain from your face and he’s not so out of his mind as to be ignorant to it. He can only assume you’re going to figure out his secret, who else could it be? Once again his world goes dark and hopeless, the mania he once rode on proceeding to crash and burn before he could appreciate it was even there. Everything has become dissonant, lacking harmony, or substance. He questions what an existence is where you don’t see him. It’s truly better to die than to live that way. After you mock him, he can simply just jump off the school roof. It would be tricky, but-

“Rui…” Your coddling voice rings out, filling his mouth with a sickly-sweet taste. Save him the embarrassment and pity, won’t you? You needn’t concern yourself with trivial matters, go on, now.

“Who is it?”

He freezes. He hadn’t excepted that. Could it be you were playing coy so as to not shoulder the guilt? No, that can’t be it. As unsound as he is, he knows you better than that. You would be true to yourself, he knows that’s the kind of person you are.

He’s furious with himself and you. He can’t believe he would ever think so lowly of you as to believe you’d actually talk him to suicide. What was with him? Hadn’t he had a relationship with you at all? He knows you well—too well—so it’s unthinkable he’d mischaracterize you. But on the other hand, he hardens himself on the fact you don’t know about his feelings. As appalling and depraved as it sounds, he’d never been subtle. Willfully ignorant, yes. Your subconscious must despise him so much as to block out any possible cues to your mind. How humiliating!

A thought races into his head; how is he to answer your question? He simply cannot say that he has feelings for you, he’s better off shooting himself in the foot and trying to run away. He tries to conjure up anybody he could be believably infatuated with, and much to his embarrassment only four people come to mind.

Emu? No, that would never work. She is much too… much. You’d never believe such an idiotic thing.

Tsukasa? Same problem. Claiming to have feelings for him would only stir up unwanted controversy.

Mizuki? Out of the question. You’ve had multiple conversations in which he’s told you how unromantic his love is for them. In hindsight, he should’ve covered his bases more. He’s so stupid.

Nene?

Nene!

It was a perfect crime. She knew about his feelings for you, so even if you did go to her, she’d have the brains to question him privately afterwards. They’re always accused of dating, they’re known for being close, she’s a very likable girl—God, Tsukasa couldn’t think of a better plan himself! Sometimes he could be a very calculated boy!

“Nene…” He rasps out, his head hung low to hide a sick smile. This is it. His hope is gone and he will die; die knowing that he was able to be saved if not for the circumstances. Everyone dies anyway, so why not now? why not yesterday, or the day before, or the year before? What difference is it to him, or to you for that matter!? If he were to drop to his knees and kick the bucket, would that change the course of the future? He’s, of course, not so arrogant to assume such! Such brainless sentiments aren’t reserved for him at the moment. And what is the future? The future has already happened! It’s over! Humans will be gone for good, the earth with explode, everything that will happen has happened. What use is one teenager’s life?

“Nene?” If he hears that name one more time, he may just vomit. He feels guilty to put the blame of his illness onto his bosom friend, but he’s sure she’d understand. Anyone who had any brain would do the same thing he has, so it’s not worth feeling guilty over.

You, on the other hand, are shocked once again. You had never expected it to be Nene. You anticipated someone more distant, far enough out of reach to warrant the one-sidedness. You supposed it wasn’t too far-fetched for him to be in love with Nene, they did spend their whole lives together. Yes, it wasn’t hard to believe when you really thought about it, but now you’re left frustrated at the state of things. Why didn’t Nene return his feelings? You’d thought for sure—

“Did you tell her?”

Great. His time would now be spent more productively if he dug his own grave, or made good of that promise to jump. Is he so inhumane with himself as to keep his this lie going before his death? No, he couldn’t… But what if… Whatever.

“I can’t.” Just shut up and lie in it. Prolonging this is inhumane, even for him.

“Why not?” You’re not helping. Why can’t you have the compassion to leave him be? You’re doing this to mess with him, aren’t you? Do you laugh at the fact he will surely die soon? You’re even worse than him. He can’t believe he loves you.

He loves you enough to die for it, he’d better humble himself.

Another cough.

“Rui! Hey, hey, you don’t need to tell me, it’s okay!” You rub his back, holding him so tenderly he starts to believe he died by some strange twist of fate and ended up in the afterlife. (Even in his suffering, his inner-monologue refused to use the word ‘heaven’. He had read in The Bible that suicide is a sin. He wonders what the perimeters are for an unrequited love gone involuntarily, yet very just, death.)

It pops into his mind that he’s still with you, and it sounds a little contradictory to say, but he’s annoyed. Not at you, no, never at you, but is it too much to ask to die at peace? (Well, as much peace he can have with the circumstances.) Must he be tortured with your face?

He stands up, his coughing seizing for a moment. He thanks whoever’s up there for letting him get through his sentences without choking. He looks down at you, still in your previous position.

“I don’t feel well,” he says curtly. What an idiotic statement! Obviously he doesn’t feel well, he just coughed up a flower. He talks to talk, what a brainless pastime! He should just walk away.

“I could’ve told you that,” you reply. “Do you want me to take you to—“

“I’m fine,” he rejects, walking away.

A worrying exchange…

You decide you need to help your friend. You can’t just watch him die.

That day, Rui walks home with the eloquence of a man on trial, trudging as if his fate had already been decided—it has. What can he do about it? He can’t even begin to imagine what death is. The thought that he will simply cease to exist, that he will just return from whence he came, no consciousness weighing him; it’s terrifying. People say “a fate worse than death” without thinking, but what is worse than death? Torture keeps you sane, mediocrity keeps you comfortable; death ends, that’s it. There’s nothing. Pain can stop, dullness can be invigorated, you cannot bring someone back from the dead! What a moronic fantasy to entertain! He’s going to die! He will die. Death, dying, and all words similar make him want to scream. Mortality is such a cruel idea. He tries to tell himself he shouldn’t worry about it, that it will come either way and should be accepted for a natural part of life, but he can’t stop himself. What is the point of anything if he is meant to die? He can’t control it.

It starts to rain, which is only another thing he has no say over. He grasps for any semblance of choice, of say, but all he finds is a pitiful snail making its way across the pavement.

He stops in horror, examining the sorry thing. They’re both alive, yes, that snail is living its only life, the same as him. He thinks of the amount of people who run their bikes over them without a second thought, he thinks of watching his peers pour salt to amuse themselves for a moment or two. They’ve probably forgotten taking lives. As previously stated, he takes better care to step around them when the air becomes dewy. It wouldn’t feel right to have such disregard for life, especially now.

He starts to think of all the bugs he’s slapped, all the stay cats he’s shooed away, all the rats he’s trapped, and it makes him feel sick. They are all dead now, their one life was ended. He should feel lucky he (at least) had a good run. He got to be a human being, isn’t that something? At least he lived 17 years, instead of a couple weeks. That snail will be dead in a few days if not caught, no doubt. Which is better; to live for as long as your body can, or die for the betterment of another? Isn’t that what his disease is… in a way? With or without meaning to, you hunted and killed him, stripping him of his choice. He is now the person in ethics questions who is tied to the tracks! Ha!

That snail has only moved a couple inches since he’s been watching…

He’s hit with a sudden wave of resentment.

Must be nice, huh? Being able to live so leisurely. The deplorable thing is surely not aware of its own existence. The more he thinks, the worse this resentment becomes. He’s so unlucky to be a human being, everything he’s stated before has been proven false. People are idiotic and dense. How braindead is it to become the only species capable of existential thought? Do we as a society benefit from such? He wouldn’t entertain the idea. Sure, other animals know they have the possibility to die, but they don’t actually grasp what it truly means. The more he thinks, animals cant love too, which is what caused his untimely death to begin with. Ignorance is bliss. Only the dumb are comfortable.

The tip of his fingers vibrate and go numb as his body fills with unbridled fury. How dare this thing taunt him? How dare it spark this conversation? If it could hold a thought in its head, it would no longer be moving; it would scream as he is now. How lucky is it, being able to live life without strain? It could barely be considered living, actually, he’d be surprised if it had a brain at all. What a depraved, useless, insignificant, and unenlightened waste of air.

In a fit of passion, he crushes a shell and the parasite inside. He drags its remains across the pavement.

It was going to die anyway.

[taggedmemes]

LOVE FAME TRAGEDY / WHEREVER I GO, I WANT TO LEAVE change wording as desired, etc.

she said i was the best.

i got annihilated and dm'ed one of your friends.

just because i fucked up doesn't mean i've got no heart.

some days aren't so pretty.

sometimes you wanna change when you know you can't.

good news never seems to catch on fire like that bad.

just know that we can never be apart.

i wanna make mistakes.

i want it all.

is it such an evil thing just to want it all?

do i sink or do i float now?

temptation occupies my head.

i decline the truth and all the words you said.

i do this every time.

i shouldn't've let you in.

i'd rather black out than care.

there's an echo in the space my heart should be.

the pills don't work anymore.

i've never fucked up like this before.

here comes the hostility.

why don't you love me the way that i love you?

just let me motivate ya.

you're as lawless as a pack of teenage boys on drugs.

i don't need my feelings or the thoughts in my head.

i don't want your bullshit charm.

we don't play well with others.

possess me more.

i know the worst is yet to come, but couldn't it be fun?

i don't need to know the truth.

my head's a little bit fucked but i feel fine.

you were all i need, so give me what i need.

don't wanna be cloudy with a chance of rain.

my chest's a little bit tight but i feel fine.

you're destructive. i need insurance for you.

when all of my moves fall short, tell me what else i can do.

i feel you drilling down to my core.

you're a bad trend.

i'd walk that plank and dive off if the dive off of that plank led to you.

do you want more or do i have to watch you float away?

i hear the scream in the starry night ring out.

all these problems i never thought of.

everything affects me now.

another straw on a broken camel's back.

i'm impressed that you think i'd care.

i did so many beautiful things.

an algorithm taught me how to choose.

good on paper with a poor technique.

won't somebody help me, help me shake the loop?

you take the fun out of everything.

you take the fun out of me.

they've taken something, maybe you should too.

an algorithm threw me out to sea and maybe i should've stayed.

are you sure you don't want to make me another ex lover?

there's a fire in your eyes.

should i be afraid of you?

darling, please don't murder me.

there's something not right with this.

lately i've been emotionally offline.

i can feel it in my spine.

been thinking about is all the time.

you only want me when i'm stuck in your head.

you're playing the victim again.

i only want you when i'm lonely as hell.

is it worth it to break our necks for this?

it's just another moment in time.

there's nothing to talk about.

i die just a little inside.

everything i do is keeping me and you oceans apart.

you know that i've tried my best.

i've had enough of this mess now.

it's not unlike me to evaporate when polite conversation heads my way.

we met between the pages of the things i didn't wanna learn.

i've got so much more to say.

we make a pretty good b-team.

just keep on giving me good feelings.

all my shit and still you say that you're mine.

my lucky star is a black hole.

i'm swimming way off the deep end.

i need your love to be mine.

my favorite dreams come in daylight.

it's a beautiful view.

i've got something to say before we're taken away.

sometimes you're talking and i'm just thinking about myself.

maybe it's better to find a way to intervene.

maybe it's best to let nature do its thing.

i want to live in your pocket with a glass of wine.

i'm kinda bored of swimming 'round the bottom of oblivion.

it feels like i'm a bit undone.

some feelings go but most find their way back in.

SSRIs keep the molly from working.

i need your body.

i'm in the yard and the milkshake tastes bad.

don't you wanna get away for a little while?

the sea is deep and the world is wide.

she likes role models and men who are not afraid to step up the plate.

she likes me drunk but not when i'm out of control and lost in my head.

was it me or was i just mislead?

strap me in and send me nowhere.

i can change.

i'll commit to the struggle.

i can hunt, i can gather, i can be your mate.

she likes it when i'm dark but no when i'm really, really dark.

i think i'm running away.

did i push you to the limit?

did i go too hard?

did i throw a rock at your car?

it's always fun when you're lost in it.

i really thought you'd call me.

can we restart?

manners and decency never came easily.

we'll figure out a way to buy a brand new brain for me.

there's little to nothing i can do.

we're becoming a break-up song.

[calmcoldevening]

You had a bad day [Michael Myers x reader]

You had a bad day, a really bad day. It was cloudy outside, just like you're feeling at the moment. You had a headache after your boss's hour-long screams about how you did the job wrong; you got soaked in the cold rain; besides, your phone was dead.

Finally, you cross the threshold of your house, sighing in amazement. Dirty shoes remain at the doorstep while you slowly walk towards your room, simultaneously pulling off clothes stuck to your body. You climb onto the bed, burrowing into the blanket, and quietly sob. It was disgusting in my heart. It didn't help that you wanted comfort so damn much, but you were alone in the house. You didn't know where Michael was or how he was. He just wasn't there. He had been home quite rarely lately, after all, Halloween had passed not so long ago and Michael was still continuing his 'work'. But you missed him now. You wanted his clumsy, rough, but so warm hugs.

Michael wasn't the best guy. He was always silent, only occasionally nodding or shaking his head in denial, but he never spoke. Michael was never the first to make contact, but only stood in the doorway, looking at you through the black holes of his mask in mute expectation. He always did that when he was hungry.

And yet now you wanted to be the one who was looked after, cared for and loved. You sobbed softly, burying your nose in the cool fabric of the blanket. I wanted to disappear so that it would all be over.

After a good half hour, when you were already on the verge between sleeping and waking, you felt a pair of rough hands on your waist, squeezing your tender flesh. You instinctively flinched at someone else's touch. Your mind was wandering in terror. Exactly until you heard the familiar heavy breathing on the other side of the latex. Michael. It was your Michael. A stone fell from your soul when you breathed a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax. All this happened in a split second, when you finally realized that the guy initiated the touch himself. He was hugging you.

"Michael?" You ask quietly. Your tired voice breaks the tense silence like a knife. The man frowns, pulling you closer to him. He doesn't like your voice, the mood you're talking to right now. You were usually gentle and said his name with such love and care that his dead heart melted and seemed to start beating again. In those moments, he wasn't a Boogeyman, he was Michael. Your Michael. But now your voice was quiet, as if you were speaking with some kind of pain. Michael didn't like it. His broad palm began to stroke your stomach with amazing tenderness, while the nose of his mask gently rubbed against your bare neck. Like a kitten.

Transparent droplets of tears appear in your eyes, slowly flowing down your pale cheeks. It seemed that the whole weight of the last few years fell on your shoulders in an instant. You're shaking. The pain in your temples and aching heart make you cry like a little child. Michael tenses up. In an instant, you are turned over and you find yourself with your face pressed against Myers' chest, his chin on top of your head. His hands are holding you to him with a bit of desperation, stroking your back. You grab the fabric of his jumpsuit, so rough and old, like a lifebuoy, burrowing into his body in search of peace and relief. Your eyes are burning with tears, and your chest can't take a full breath of air.

"..it's not my fault.. However," you whisper softly, trying to keep the remnants of your composure, "It wasn't my job.. but the director thought otherwise. He.. He yelled at me. Strongly.. he was so angry, although my colleague is to blame.."

Michael's measured movements gradually slow down until his big hand leaves your back, leaving this place to be torn apart by the cold of the room. But then the loud breathing stops, and after it you feel Michael leaning back, putting something on the bedside table. The next moment, a pair of cracked, dry lips touches your forehead, leaving a rough but so familiar kiss on your skin. You don't dare to look up, but your sobs gradually slow down, turning into muffled sobs. Now the man's hand finds your place on your cheek, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. He is surprisingly gentle, as if you are a real crystal figurine made of pure glass.

You are his heart. Michael had never known what love or caring was before. His childhood and youth in a psychiatric hospital were filled with pain and alienation, from which he learned to hide from the rest of the world behind a solid mask of indifference, behind the mask of a monster. And yet, with you, he wanted to be real. It was difficult, and Michael didn't always know how to behave. But now, seeing you crying, something inside Michael tightened painfully, making him frown and clench his teeth. He didn't know why he was angry and didn't know why he felt that way. The only thing Michael was sure of was that he wanted to punch the face of the one who made you cry.

Finally, you calm down, letting out a nervous sigh from your lungs. Michael tenses up for a moment, but his heart skips a beat when he sees you visibly relax in his arms.. Are you happy? His stroking resumes when he wordlessly tries to persuade you to sleep. You obey, snuggling into his chest and closing your eyes. The man's gaze softens, his lips seem to twitch in a slight hint of a smile.

This will be one of those rare occasions when Michael stays with you all night. But he definitely thinks he should visit your boss the next night.

I just needed a little comfort from my boy. Have a good day ♡⁠

[ateotdwinchester]

inner demons

a/n: i’ve written this over the span of a few weeks bc my mental health has been down the drain recently and i needed an outlet. i wasn’t sure about uploading this, but here it is anyway

also used these pictures of ashton bc that’s how i imagine he’d look when listening to you rant about how you’re feeling

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: your mental health has been getting worse again and ashton is there to try and help you through it

warnings: depression, self harm, reference to suicide - and please, if you find any of these triggering, don’t read this fic

word count: 3k

✩ ✩ ✩

winter was one of the worst times of year for you. specifically, for your mental health. the dreary, rainy and cloudy weather, days becoming dark hours earlier than in the summer was always hard on you.

your mental health was bad already. you’d been suffering with depression for quite a long time now. it first started at school when you couldn’t deal with exams along with certain horrible people in your classes, that seemed to linger for a few years after you graduated.

just when you thought things were getting better, the pandemic hit, causing you to relapse and become worse than before. you didn’t know how to deal with all of the terrible thoughts that were constantly going around your head, including thoughts telling you to hurt yourself.

and you did, you turned to that to help you cope with feeling so exhausted. in the end, it didn’t really help. but you had nothing else to help you.

until you met ashton irwin. your now boyfriend.

you’d never met anyone as caring as him. he always listened to anything you had to say, he was there for you when you needed to rant; most of all, he didn’t leave after you told him about your struggles.

in fact, he empathised with you. telling you about his struggles and ways he tried to get through them. he promised then and there that he would always be there to support you and would never judge you for any of your thoughts or emotions.

you always appreciated ashton, but you found it hard to tell him when you were beginning to struggle more again. you felt pathetic not being able to cope on your own, you felt like a burden in his life every time you had to involve him in your problems.

this was one of those times.

it had been a long day, or at least it felt like it had been. it was raining all day, something you hated. you hadn’t been able to get out of bed, you hadn’t eaten, only had a drink of water which ashton brought to you before he left the house earlier in the day.

you’d been sitting in the bathroom for the past hour with the door locked. you’d told ashton you were going to have a shower, but, you never got that far. ashton would’ve noticed that the noise of the shower never started, but he’s always been respectful to leave you to whatever you need to do.

it was different this time though. it was too quiet. he was sat in the living room, planning on cooking you both a nice dinner. however, you’d been acting different today. you’d been quiet, not as cheerful as usual when he arrived home from being elsewhere.

you were sat on the closed toilet, leaning against the counter as tears fell down your face. deciding if you were going to do what your mind had been telling you to do. you didn’t want to hurt yourself again, but what choice did you have? nothing else helped. it was practically staring you in the face from where you’d placed the sharp object on the counter.

you looked down at your arms, marks from a couple of weeks ago that were starting to heal properly. marks you hadn’t told ashton about. ashton knew you struggled more at this time of year; he’d been busy recently with work, he hadn’t had time to notice things going even more downhill.

while you were contemplating your choices, ashton had been making his way upstairs. he decided that maybe you needed some company with showering. you told him previously that you find it comforting showering together, so that’s what he’d do.

he entered the bedroom, still hearing no movement. he tried to go into the bathroom, met with the door not budging. just the handle twisting. he couldn’t open the door. you’d locked it.

“sweetheart?” he called out, sudden worry washing over him. “you okay in there?”

you’d jumped at the sound of him trying to open the door, you don’t usually lock it, but it was necessary this time. you didn’t answer him, trying to muffle your cries.

“baby? please answer me,” you could hear the frustration and fear in his tone. “i’m here for you, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i’m fine, ash,” you sniffled. “just leave me alone.”

it came out harsher than you meant it to. your emotions playing a part. you never ask him to leave you alone. that only happened when you were in this kind of situation.

“i’m not leaving,” ashton replied. “talk to me, please, i’m here, whatever you need.”

you let out an accidental loud cry, placing your head in your hands as you couldn’t hold back your cries any longer. you were in so much pain it was hard to handle.

ashton’s heart broke hearing the way you were crying. why hadn’t he noticed you weren’t as happy as normal, why hadn’t he noticed your depression taking a toll again. he should’ve noticed.

“can you open the door, baby?” he asked, trying his luck before he’d have to figure something else out.

“no,” you said with a gasp, your crying almost uncontrollable as you moved to pick the object up from the counter.

your shaky hands weren’t helping, causing you to drop it, making a clanging noise as it hit the floor. you knew ashton would’ve heard it, he would’ve put two and two together. you couldn’t pick it up, crying even harder.

ashton was going through his nightstand already, trying to find the outside key for the bathroom door. he was panicking by now, frantically trying to find it, worried when he didn’t come upon it instantly. until, a light caught his eye on the dresser.

the light reflecting on the key, he quickly picked it up, going back to the bathroom door. he slid the key into the lock, twisting it two times until he heard it click.

he pushed it open, causing you to quickly try and turn away, rushing to pull the sleeves of your hoodie down before he could see anything. you wiped your eyes on your sleeves instead, only glancing over to him for a second.

ashton looked to you first, he couldn’t miss the way you pulled at your sleeves, he looked to the ground, seeing the razor there, but it was clean which gave him slight relief.

he moved it out of the way, walking to you slowly, crouching down beside you. he placed one hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth, the other on your waist.

“i’m here, baby, i’m here now,” he tried to reassure. “what do you need?”

you shook your head, you couldn’t even look at him. you felt pathetic, like a disgrace. you couldn’t look your own boyfriend in the eye because you were embarrassed about how badly you were handling things.

ashton saw the expression on your face, it was too familiar. the same a couple of years ago, when you were struggling, when you had been harming yourself. he knew what was going on now.

“it’s okay if you’re not doing okay, love,” he said, cupping your cheek in one of his hands, wiping away your tears.

“i’m fine,” you bluntly responded. “i’m always fine, everything is always just fine.”

your hurt started turning into slight anger. angry with yourself, angry with the way you kept going around in circles with your mental health. you got a little better, and then things always became worse. it’s the same thing over and over and over.

“baby—“

“just leave me alone,” you folded your arms, pushing his hands away from you. not thinking straight with the other thoughts clouding your mind.

“i don’t want you to be alone,” ashton softly replied, trying to keep calm in this situation. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i’m handling it,” you tried to get a subtle look behind ashton, trying to find where the razor was. if you could just get him to leave—

“angel,” he got your attention. knowing that nickname would stop you from whatever else you’re thinking about. “you know it’s okay if you aren’t doing good, this isn’t something that will instantly go away, there are ups and downs and that’s okay. wherever you’re at now, i’m here to help you through it.”

you cried harder at that. everything was hurting. you were exhausted with life. you didn’t want to keep living like this.

“i’m sorry,” you cried, holding your hands over your face. “i’m so sorry.”

“hey, hey, it’s okay, why are you sorry?” ashton asked, standing himself up as he took your hands in his.

“i— i did it again,” you blubbered. taking a breath to try and control your crying. ashton didn’t know what you were talking about. “i know i said i’d talk to you if i felt that bad again, but i just— i couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”

then it clicked. he knew what you meant. locking yourself in the bathroom, the razor you’d dropped on the floor. you’d been self harming again.

“you don’t have to apologise for that, baby,” he sighed. “it’s not something easy to talk about, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry to me.”

you were quiet after he said that. trying not to keep crying the way you were while also trying to figure out what to say next. his hands were still in yours, not planning on letting go any time soon.

“i thought things were getting better,” you complained honestly. “i was happy travelling with you the last two months, and as soon as we got home everything started crashing down on me.”

“being on tour was a big distraction for you, a new city every night, seeing places you’ve never been before, you didn’t have time to think about anything else,” ashton reminded. “now we’re home, there’s days where we have nothing going on, it gives your mind time to overthink and for those bad thoughts to come back.”

you didn’t say anything after that, ashton could tell it wasn’t helping with you sitting in the bathroom, the razor behind him on the floor. he pulled at your hands softly, urging you to stand with him. thankfully you did, walking with him as he lead you through to the bedroom. he took you over to the bed, only letting go of your hands so he could sit back against the headboard.

“come here, love,” he held one arm out, waiting for you to get comfortable.

you sat down, shuffling over to him. your head resting against his shoulder, his arm around you to keep you close. he pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek, causing you to look up at him.

“i don’t know what to do,” you suddenly spoke. ashton allowing you to get your thoughts out. “this feels never ending, it feels like there’s no way out apart from—“

“baby,” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. he knew what you were going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it come out of your mouth. “i know it’s hard, and i hate that you’re feeling like this again. you deserve so much happiness and i wish there was more i could do to take your pain away.”

“it hurts, ash,” you started to cry again, tears dropping down your cheeks continuously. “everything hurts so bad.”

he pulled you tighter against his chest, one hand on the back of your head, slowly running through your hair. he pressed soft kisses to your forehead every few moments, trying to let you know how much he loved you and that he was right there with you through this.

as your crying started to calm down, ashton took one of your hands in his, stretching out your arm slightly. you looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“can i see?” he asked.

you weren’t sure at first, but eventually nodded your head. he gently pulled up your sleeve, each mark, scar and any new cuts revealing themselves to him. you sighed seeing the upset look on his face.

“they’re horrible,” you sniffled. tugging your arm away from him. “i’m sorry.”

“they aren’t horrible, baby,” ashton held your hand. he ran his thumb over a couple of old scars, then he lifted your arm up, pressing kisses along the length of it. “they show strength. it shows you’ve been strong enough to fight to stay in this world.”

you didn’t know how he could see it like that. in your own head, it showed how weak you were, how bad you were at coping with life.

“you’re the strongest person i know,” ashton continued, pulling your sleeve back down as he kept your hand in his. “it takes strength to admit you aren’t doing good, so i’m proud of you for telling me.”

“i don’t know what to do, ash,” you slouched further into his grip, cheek pressed against his chest. “nothing’s getting better, i don’t know what to do to get better. this cycle is becoming too much to deal with.”

ashton could’ve cried hearing you say that. knowing the person he loved is feeling so defeated broke his heart. he would do anything it takes to make you feel better, to try and help you.

“i’m here for you, baby,” he stroked his hand softly through your hair. “anything you need me to do, just say the word, i promise i will always be here for you.”

“i don’t know what else will help,” you sniffled. “therapy didn’t work, the meds made me feel worse, there’s nothing else. i have nothing else.”

“you have me,” ashton cupped your cheek in his hand, lifting your head to look at him. “if you want me to listen, if you need advice, if you want me to distract you, or if you just want me to hold you while you cry, i'll be here. no matter what.”

he leaned down, kissing your forehead before pecking your lips a few times in a row. finally getting a small smile out of you. if he could see your smile every day, his life would be complete. that’s all he wanted. for you to be happy.

“i’m sorry for being like this again,” you sighed. not holding eye contact. “i don’t know how you put up with me.”

“i’m not putting up with this,” ashton shook his head. “i care about you, more than anything, i’ll do whatever it takes to make this a little easier for you to get through, because you can get through it.”

you shuffle down, your head resting on his stomach as you close your eyes. tired out from the chaos of your own mind.

“we could take a few trips,” ashton suggested. “you love travelling. i know you still have that list of places you want to visit.”

“i do, but…” you paused, opening your eyes as you squeezed ashton’s hand in yours. “what happens when we come home? i’ll just be like this again.”

“we’ll try and find other things for you to enjoy,” ashton was determined to stay positive in this situation. “you love to draw, you love to create art, and i’ve seen the way you watch me play the drums and guitar. i could teach you, give you something else to put your mind to.”

you thought for a moment, wiping your sleeves over your eyes one last time. you couldn’t believe ashton still wanted to bother with trying after how difficult and negative you always were in this situation.

“okay,” you mumbled. ashton was surprised to hear that you’ll do this. “i don’t know if it’ll help, but i’ll try.”

“that’s a start,” ashton smiled. “the best thing you can do is try. even if it takes time.”

you nodded. finally looking up at him. you shuffled yourself upwards, capturing his lips in a unexpected but loving kiss. placing your hand on his cheek softly as you pull away.

“how would you feel about getting a guitar?” he asked, hands on your waist pulling you to straddle him. “i know how much you love painting, we could buy some paint for it so you can make it your own.”

“i could paint little flowers on it,” you excitedly suggested. “and maybe some butterflies too, that would look pretty.”

ashton nodded in agreement, just happy that you were willing to do this to see if it’ll help having your mind preoccupied with something like learning how to play an instrument. he hoped this would help, hating seeing you hurting like this.

“well, the band has no plans on making new music just yet,” ashton tucked your hair behind your ears. “we could take a trip soon… italy maybe?”

“really? you want go to italy before going back to australia?” you asked, one of your bucket list places, knowing how much he wanted to head back to australia after tour ended.

“australia can wait, i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

you let out a long breath, leaning towards him to wrap your arms around his neck, his arms around your back as he hugged you as close to him as he could get you. he kissed your cheek, making sure you knew he would always be there for moments like this.

“i love you,” he said quietly. “remember i’ll always be here, for anything you need. you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“i don’t know what i’d do without you,” you held him tighter. “i love you, ash.”

a few more tears threatened to leave your eyes as you hugged. you truly didn’t think you’d be here anymore if ashton hadn’t come into your life when he did. and now he can be your anchor that grounds you and gives you a reason to try and live this life, no matter how tough it might be.

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hexsdexs @conspiracy-ash @oliviah-25 @superbloomrry | if you would like to join my taglist, please comment here or see this post

[outsideofmyhead]

if I killed someone for you ( yandere homicidal liu ) part 1

author's note : dnosdhkjsjs im finally writing againn in this au ur also like a killer idk man it might be a bit cringe but i hope u enjoyy also I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE FOLLOWING BEHAVIOUR, VIOLENCE SHOULD NOT BE ROMANTICIZED

"I'm sorry that i did this."

you wake up groggy in the small cabin you rent. the stench of rotting flesh reminds you to take out the trash before its found out. it's not like you particularly enjoy killing, or that brings you any pleasure. you dont know why you do it, but it makes you feel more sober. more down to earth. it reminds you of how you could die any moment, in the same way your victims had. and for some sick and twisted reason, you like the adrenaline of getting caught.

the blood is on my hands

you need to return to the city in a week to go back to your day job. the cabin is not somewhere you can live, and completely erasing your existence will be too risky and a hassle. its more convenient to kill here but you will have to make do when you return. you dont want to ofcourse, this place reminds you too much of you hometown. the cloudy skies, the peaceful breeze and the chirping birds. you hate the chirping birds. "how irritating of them to enjoy life while the rest of us have to suffer." you think to yourself.

you miss her. you miss jane a lot. jane arkensaw, your sister. you hate yourself for enjoying your vacation with your friends instead of dying along with the rest of your family. its cruel that you have to live with the guilt. you miss your friends too. you cant bear to see them after what youve done. they are good people.

i stare at my reflection, i dont know who i am

its raining. the cold drops falling on your head. the whole experience is sobering. its so quiet and peaceful, not filled with screams for a while.

you jinxed it.

you hear footsteps and heavy pants. through the leaves surrounding you, you can spot a moving figure. running for his life. another one follows. youd normally ignore this, but today youre curious. you follow them deeper into the woods, careful to not step out of place to bring attention to yourself. the large man falls over a rock and you spot a scarfed man shoot his brains out. that was boring.

the scarf is green and black, similar to the one your old boyfriend used to wear. youre thinking about him again. the bad memories, his possesiveness, how you felt suffocated every second the two of you were alone. liu wasnt a bad man, youd never say that, but he had his tendencies too. the occasional slap and restricting you from people. but he was so sweet at times, so kind. those times that would make you melt and never wanna leave his embrace.

i practice my confession, incase i take the stand

sometimes you want to turn yourself in. stay on the deathrow for your crimes. hang infront of the country. ruin your family's reputation. then there are times where you dont. like now. youre so deep in thought you dont realize the gun pointed to your head.

you raise your head to come face to face with the man from before. his face is no longer covered in a hood and is littered with scars and bandages. whatever hes gone through must have hurt. his dead eyes hold a sense of familiarity. but he doesnt feel the same.

as if struck by a switch, his eyes light up. you recognize the man well now.

"darling."

ill say i learned my lesson

you flinch when he lowers his gun and reaches out for you. your terrified expression and the silence makes the situation suffocating. you dont want to go back, but the look in his eyes drag you. "darling. what happened? where have you been." his sweet and calm voice makes you almost let your guard down. "liu... i thought you were dead." you mutter out. "i survived... somehow."

"dont tell me youre scared. i saw the body you threw in the river. youre no better than me." you werent. the years had driven you insane and frankly you were relieved seeing him again. the voices clash in your head and you cant decide whether to trust the love of your life again or stand up for yourself. he takes you in his embrace and whispers, "I'll be a better man."

a tear thats not yours falls on your shoulder. he grabs you tighter as if he could never let you go again. your conscience gets a hold of you and you run away. you cant let this keep happening.

im packing up my things and im wiping down the walls

youre back in the city. you enjoyed your short vacation at the cabin but you dont want to risk running into him again. work is as normal as can be, and youll meet your friends in the weekend. day time is calming with no one to have to talk to. killing in the city has its own charms too, the adrenaline is relaxing.

you need to get your mind off him, and the therapist offered to help you. shes been nice but you feel uncomfortable knowing her after spilling the ocnfessions of your childhood. it feels wrong to let someone know so much. so when you get rid of her you think that she really did help calm you down.

im rinsing off the clothes and im walking through the halls

you dispose the body in the back yard. you step inside your house and start washing the blood off. an eerie feeling washes over you. you feel like someone is watching you.

the next few days are mundane but finally comes the weekend. you meet with your friends for a quick drink and smoke. youve only known them for an year but theyre very comfortable to be around. lacy especially. you met her in your last year of college and shes the only friend who has still stayed in contact with you. "(y/n), whats with you? have you found a boy yet?" she asks. "ive seen someone that im attracted to but i think i'll give it some time." you reply. you dont want to reexperience how dating was. they play spin the bottle but it never seems to land on you. youre satisfied with that though. the perfect couples were chosen, lacy and luke, seira and alex and heather and mason. it gets late. they share a few laughs and leave and soon enough youre the only one left at the bar. you grab another drink to put your mind at ease because the feeling is back. its quiet.

you finally leave the bar for a smoke. the feeling of unease remains. as you recall the happenings of that day, it seems to appear before you. the gun. the scarf. the bandages.

liu.

i did it all for her so I felt nothing at all

"liu wants you." he says. his voice slightly higher than normal. "you should give him another chance." he utters. his face doesnt show anything apart from annoyance.

"i cant."

"dont act all innocent. weve noticed the missing people. all he did was be a little bit controlling of you. youre a murderer, you should be grateful he still wants you."

you take deep breaths as you stare into the gun. its the feeling you love, where you could be shot any second. its bittersweet, you think, death.

"you've killed before too."

"atleast we acknowledge that we do, instead of parading around with that smile on your face, decieving your friends as if theyre something other than an ant to kill."

youre not a good friend, you never really were. not even to liu, jeff or anyone.

i dont know what shell say, so ill ask her when she calls

his eyes soften as he lowers his gun. this is the liu you recognize. completely fucked up but still inlove with you. this is the liu you love.

"darling."

"liu."

"youre a threat."

"will you kill me for it?"

"i could never, love."

he grabs your hand and you return to the bar. you sit at the furthest table from anyone else and he looks into your eyes so lovingly as if he didnt try to kill you moments before.

"since when do you kill?" you ask. voice slightly trembling from the previous adrenaline.

"since i awoke from the hospital. since the nurse i fell inlove with started to bitch about my brother."

"youve fallen inlove with another and you still have the guts to call me your darling?"

"would you love me more if i killed someone for you?"

"..."

"i got rid of her darling. my hearts only yours." he tightens his grip around your hands. its suffocating.

"would you hold my hand theyre the sameones that i used? when i killed someone for you."

youre never going to escape his trap. youre as fucked up as he is.

[mrslankyman]

R U Mine?

Mike Schmidt x (fem) reader

-no fnaf in this timeline-

Shorter than usual sorry

The clouds outside suggested a thunder storm later on. There had been a lot of rain here lately anyways. I headed up the small walk way to Mikes home. Knocking ever so lightly.

Mike opened the door. His black hoodie and jeans on. His brown hair ruffled ever so slightly. “Hey come in.” His voice gave way that he was sleeping before I arrived.

I stepped inside and looked around as he closed the door. He was being quiet so I assume Abby was also asleep. Rain had that tempting sound to make anyone wanna fall asleep. Mike sure looked like he needed a good nap. Not in a bad way it’s just.. I always notice the bags under his eyes.

“You been doing okay?” He shot me a question as he walked to his couch to have a seat. I followed after and sat down beside him. A little too close this time. I felt our arms brush. I didn’t give much of a reaction just leaned away. But I could see the blush on Mikes face.

“Yeah I’ve been good. What about you?” I asked softly turning my head to him. He looked down at his lap before turning his head to meet my gaze. “I’ve been.. okay.” He answered as honestly as he could.

A small smile displayed on my face. I knew how hard he worked at this mall security job. How he tried his best to keep Abby. I was only the baby sitter but me and Mike had become friends. I would hope so at least. I’ve been watching Abby for about 6 months now.

“You know if you have a day off and just wanna sleep I can take Abby to my apartment. You need to sleep sometime Mike.” I patted his hand. I could feel him hesitate on wether to pull it away or not. Surprisingly he let it stay. Giving me a thankful look. His brown eyes were cloudy with stress, worry and other emotions.

“I’m here for you Mike. You don’t gotta be afraid to ask for help.” I whisper softly giving him a kind look. In turn seeing his face once again grow a darker shade of red. “Yeah.. thanks.” Was the only answer I got. I could see he was getting nervous. For what? I had no clue.

He leaned away from me and sighed. He didn’t move his hand though. Mine still sitting on top of his. He kept his there. Until Abby came out that’s when he moved it. That’s also when he said good bye. He was off to work. I just hoped he could drive safely in the rain.

——

It wasn’t unusual for Mike to call. He did it every once in a while. To say a shift of his has changed or that he needed you to come by early. Tonight was different. It was about 9 pm. Why is he calling?

I got up and answered my phone. Leaning against the wall and played with the coiled wire.

“Hello..?” I could hear Mikes disheveled voice on the other end. Was he crying?

“Hey Mike, everything okay?” Concern laced my voice.

“Umm.. no. Could you.. could you come over? Please..” he whispered. He must not want Abby to hear him. Which broke my heart more. How he tried to cover up his pain so his sister doesn’t see..

“Yeah I’ll be over in a few.” My answer was quick. I hung up the phone before he could say good bye. I put on my shoes and quickly rushed to my car. Driving the 5 minutes it took to get to Mikes house.

/

I make it to his house and slowly walk up to the front door. Before I could knock it swings open. Mike standing in-front of me. Sure enough. There were tears in his eyes. “Mike is everything okay?” I asked searching his face for any clues as to why he was like this. “Can you just.. come in?” He asked so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded and stepped inside. He closed the door and headed to the couch. Sitting down and letting his head lean back. I sat beside him. Closer this time. Our thighs touching, arms brushed against each other and shoulders close. He closed his eyes and softly cried.

For reasons unknown to me. He sobbed quietly. I slowly pulled him towards me. Saying it’s okay softly and pulling into a hug. He slowly accepted and wrapped his arms around me. His face landed in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears hit my skin.

“Why are you crying Mike?” I ask quietly as I rub his back in a circular motion. “I keep having those dreams..” He said between sobs. Those dreams about his brother. You knew of them. How he used nature noises to sleep. How every-time he’d dream of Garret he was unsuccessful in saving him.

“I’m never gonna find out who did this to him.. I’m a failure and a terrible brother..” he squeezed me tighter. I almost forgot how muscular he truly was. Till now.

“You’re not a failure Mike. I know you’re not a terrible brother. Abby thinks you’re great. What happened with Garret was not your fault.” I soothed him. Slowly running hand up. Grazing it through his brown hair. He let out a small sigh. Leaning his head back to look at me.

“Thank you..” he whispered and stared at me. Debating on something. Was he going to say something else? His eyes displayed a fight in his mind. Of what I had no clue again. He was so difficult to read.

“Wanna know something funny?” He asked finally in such a strangely serious way. I nodded in response. “When I’m at work. It’s the last place I wanna be. I think about coming home and seeing you. Playing with Abby. Having fun. Cooking dinner. How that’s all I want.” He stared at me. His eyes having a admiring look.. why?

“What do you mean Mike..?” I ask softly. When did he get so close to my face?

“I’ve been wanting to ask you this for ever now.. our glances. Our hand touching. Sitting too close on the couch… how you ask to come over on Saturdays to play with Abby and they end with us watching a movie together..” he went on. Pooling out his emotions. His face was red. The tears had dried up mostly. “You comfort me and you make me feel.. something. Something I’ve been afraid of feeling for someone else..” he leaned closer. So close I could feel his breath.

“Are you mine?” He asked so quietly. His voice filled with sadness, heartache, and fear. He was scared. Scared of my reply. Scared this would be the end of the road. Not only would he lose a friend, his sisters friend, his baby sitter, but also the only person who’s made him feel happiness in a long time.

“You got me Mike.” I whispered softly. His lips sealed my reply with a kiss. Surprisingly his lips were soft. I titled my head a little. His right hand slid up to cup my cheek. Pulling me closer. The kiss wasn’t like any I’ve had before. This was a hungry kiss. From someone who’s never had this feeling. The pull he had on me was something else. The kiss became more urgent as it went on.

Everytime we’d pull away to breathe he’d pull me right back in. His lips moving in sync with mine. Before I knew it I was on his lap. Making out with him and running my hands through his hair.

The worries of his dreams, rent, custody battle, and work left him. He was in the place he wanted to me. With the one girl he wanted to be with. He deserved these few minutes of pure bliss.

Our lips unconnected and we stared at each other. Eyes lingering.

“Are you just mine tonight..? Or are you mine?” He asked this question in such a way it sent butterflies to my stomach. He was doubting this was real. But his voice was so low and his eyes were needy. He needed my reply to be a yes.

“I’m yours.” My simple reply gave him all he needed to kiss me again.

[asrichin]

—‘hold me,console me,then I'll leave without a trace.’

it's cloudy, maybe it'll rain soon. Even the forecast said it while you had the news opened on your TV, holding your drink in your hands. Oh and, in about five minutes he'll definitely come, so do unlock the door for him, would you? (OIKAWA TŌRU X F!READER)

content & notes bsf!oikawa w reader, but nt rlly casual..??fluff in general, slightly of curse words used by yn :)

the notification popped up on your phone, making a vibrant noise. Though you unbothered to look at it, since you were focused on making sure the sugar cubes really dissolve in your tea. Also because the fine sugar ran out at the store earlier when you're doing groceries.

“y/nnn! ” the loud yell, but in a good way. Excited, even. Coming from your front door, well just as you predicted, five minutes had passed and he arrived. “give me a sec,Tōru!” you retorted, putting your mug and rushed to the door. (He's an impatient bitch, and noisy, but sweet nonetheless.)

And when you finally opened the door, he hugged you without hesitation, like he always does.

“Iwa-chan called me Shittykawa, I'm huuurttt” Tōru whined, clinging onto you. “doesn't he always does that?” unfazed by his antics, you pulled him inside before locking your door. So he could continue with his ramblings about his day or match, he sputters a lot of things, for sure.

“yeah but—Iwa-chan even blabla..” Tōru rambled, and lets go of you. While you walked to your dining table, to take a seat and he followed. “And Iwa-chan even throw a ball on my head, like?” he complained, looking at you with his hazel eyes. By that, you swear you could fallen for him again, oh dear.

“sounds casual for me, it's not like he never does that to you,right?” you replied, since it's what he wanted all along, for you to listen his stupid rant and give him attention. “...Yeahh,but still!” he frowned.

“you should get going to back head home. It'll rain soon,Tōru.” you cut him off, giving him the slight stern look. “Can't I stay here until the rain is over?” he retorted, as stubborn as he is.

“what? Absolutely no!”

“you don't love me!”

“oh now, don't twist my words,Tōru!”

...

tōru : yn can I drop by?

y/n : did the tournament went bad?? *seen*

You supposed it was today that he will go to nationals or not, you had jot it down on your calendar. He even told you about it like, a lot of times as far as you can remember.

y/n : I'm not at home tho

y/n : but I'll be back soon. Spare keys under the vase.

When you finally arrived, cram classes were no jokes, you feel so fucking exhausted. and now to expect a messed up Tōru at your house, since the way he texted you earlier was pretty obvious.

You opened the door, to be greeted with silence.“Tōru?” you called out to him, closing the door. Searching for him when you're done putting your things and such.

He was there. but god, he seems like in full of thoughts, even to the point not noticing your presence. “you alright?” you tap his shoulder, to get his attention hopefully.

“i lost.” Tōru mumbled.

“i lost y/n. I didn't make it to the...nationals? ”

Ah.

Right.

you took a sit beside him, looking at him. Tōru had his headphones, knees close to his chest and staring to god knows whatever he had on his mind, you swore. “do you want to talk about it? Or a hug?” you asked, low and quiet. To match with his sadness, devastated.

He didn't say anything. Though he did leaned onto you, hiding his face onto your shoulder by your side.

“am I not enough,y/n? Why?” muffled voice of Tōru by burying his face, laced with vulnerability. “i didn't make it to the nationals. I didn't.” he repeated, quietly, yet emotionally.

And all you can do is just hold him, to console him in your own way, at his pace. It was quiet, silence, but comfortable.

His safe place; somewhere he will seek out to, at his lowest. You hold a special place in his heart, to say at least, to look at him while he's sobbing, and ugly (in his defense.)

...

He always been stubborn. He is stubborn. What's new? To him not accepting your dozens of calls.

but ghosting you? Whoa, what the fuck,dude?

It had been a month or so, you thought he just busy these days. Even though he always updated you in any way possible because it's Tōru. He will never leave you, and bug you with his shitty shenanigans and attitude despite your patience running thin.

“I swear if you—” you could feel you almost burst a blood vessel calling him repeatedly because Iwaizumi just told you that he's out in Argentina. What? Argentina!?

“oh god, you're making my phone hang,n/n!” he accepted your call after 17 missed calls, constant vibration from his phone. “and you didn't bother telling me you're in Argentina? What the fuck,Oikawa!” you yelled at your phone, and tossed it at your bed.

This isn't funny. He left you for a month in a half to go to Argentina without a notice? Seriously? “Jeeez, she's mad.” an unfamiliar voice from someone else, possibly a guy, coming from his other side of line.

“Well, I'm sorry but I'm actually in Brazil.” Tōru spoke, in a matter-of-fact tone of his. “Bitch, that's even worse!” you retorted quickly, grabbing your phone and changing the call into a video call. He immediately accepted.

Tōru chuckled. “awhh, miss me that much?” he teased, and looking at you on his phone. The way your nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed and such were making him cackling. Infact, you can see the other guy, gingerhead beside him, trying to look who's on Tōru's phone. “is that your girlfriend? I didn't know you have one!” he seems energetic, but you're not in the mood right now.

...

“you didn't tell me you're going overseas? and leaving me without telling me too!” you spoke, on the screen, scolding Tōru. Well, you were worried sick for his sudden absent, just to find he's outside of the Japan and having fun, great gracious. “I forgot! You sounds like my mother,n/n—wait I gotta go, call you later!”

and just like that, you ended up having your phone in your hand, with the screen showing your call ended.

...•`_´•

** : sorryy, i forget to tell you i changed my number but I did call you! W my new number ofc =͟͟͞͞(꒪ᗜ꒪‧̣̥̇)

y/n : you think I'll accept from an oversea number? Unknown too.

** : IM SORRRYYYY Y/NNN! *seen*

** : NO DON'T DO THIS TO ME, Y/N!! *seen*

Afterwards, you texted him, telling him it's fine. And him continuing telling about his journey.

Tōru : I'll be back in a few months :)) want anything here? I can get souvenirs for you??

y/n : sure. see you soon,Tōru

Tōru : don't miss me too muchh!! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Guess you'll see him soon,huh?

[hawkinsmethlab]

Part One

Read on AO3

They want to throw him a party whenever he gets released from the hospital.

“You know,” Dustin says with a shrug, “before the world goes tits up, or whatever.”

“Dude!” Steve smacks him across the back of the head, knocking off his hat.

Dustin gapes at him. “What?”

“You can’t just say stuff like that!” His eyes flash over to Wayne, who knows the whole story because Eddie’s been on the good drugs and tells his uncle fucking everything, especially when he’s high. He’s got a raised brow and a half-smile, which is basically a laugh.

Dustin smacks his hat on his knee before putting it back on. “What, I can’t say ‘tits up?’ We’re all adults here.”

“You’re fourteen.”

“Excuse you, I’ll be fifteen in three weeks, you know this.”

“Still not an adult.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Ladies, please.” Eddie holds up a still-shaking hand to get them to shut up for a second. “You’re both pretty. And as much as I would love any chance to let loose and live young… I’m not too sure now’s the best time for it.”

His hospital room has a window that Wayne keeps the blinds drawn for, no matter what time it is, but Eddie knows what’s on the other side all the same. He sees it in his nightmares plenty. A red, cloudy sky that crackles with lightning, the chokes the light out of the daytime and turns nighttime into one of the seven rings of hell.

Eleven says that Vecna is getting stronger. That it’ll be a while before he’s back up to full fighting strength, but that she thinks he’ll be more powerful than ever when he is. And Will’s been having visions of what he thinks are glimpses into the Upside Down, into the stuff that hasn’t already leaked into Hawkins. Will says they’ve been both unhelpful and just generally bad.

Not to mention that Max is still asleep, and that’s a whole other can of worms that everyone is trying to be optimistic about, but Eddie can see their hope draining by the day.

“That’s exactly why we need something to celebrate,” Dustin says. “Everything sucks right now, and it’s probably gonna keep sucking for a while—”

“Like a while,” Steve chimes in.

“—so we should take every chance we get to, as you said, let loose and live young. For morale.”

Which is great, and a part of Eddie agrees, but that’s the part from before. Where something like facing off against an alternate-dimension-evil-bad-guy was from out of a board game. Before this was real, where it’s outside and under his skin and those bats stole like, half of his tattoos and his nipple.

He nearly died, and all of them still could.

“I’m just not sure it’s the best time,” Eddie says.

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Okay, well when exactly—”

It’s Steve’s hand on his shoulder than cuts him off and a shake of his head that has Dustin slumping back in his seat. Eddie hates to see the kid put down like this, hates that he was the one to do it, but when he tries to say something to apologize, anything, the words get stuck.

Then it’s Wayne’s hand on Eddie’s arm and his uncle’s eyes are familiar and gentle. For someone who everyone thinks is such a gruff guy, Eddie’s always though it was obvious how much of a wuss Wayne is. Or, maybe wuss isn’t the best word. What do you call someone who’s lived through what he has and come out kinder for it?

Wayne gives him a squeeze and says, “Dustin, I need some fresh air but my knee’s been acting up with all this…not-rain. I hate to ask, but do you think—”

The kid practically jumps to his feet. “Oh, sure, Mr. Munson, I’d be happy to help out! Y’know, my granny says that I have an intuitive touch for the older generations.”

“Well, I think that’s just what I need. What else does your granny say about you?”

“Oh man, where do I even start? There was this one time, in first grade—”

Then they’re both out the door, shutting it behind them, and Eddie lets his head fall back with a sigh. “Jesus Christ, that kid.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, moving to sit in Wayne’s now-empty chair. “My mom would say that he grows on you like a fungus, but he’s just trying to help.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie can’t look at him, so he looks at the ceiling instead, at those corkboard-y panels that seem to always have stains on them. Anywhere else you go, those stains would usually just be water from leaky pipes or rain, but here they’re all sorts of different things. Water, blood, vomit, medicine. Whatever’s managed to get high enough.

(There’s a weed joke in there somewhere, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t have the will to make it. How sad is that)?

“It’s weird, though,” Steve says, and Eddie feels him lean forward. Feels the heat of him on his arm, crawling up his neck. “Eddie Munson, dodging the spotlight. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Well, here it is.” It comes out a little bitter. “Thought it was time for a change of pace.”

“I don’t know. I kind of liked the old pace.”

When Eddie looks over, Steve’s already looking back. He’s smiling, just a small one, like he’s teasing him. Because he does that now. Teases Eddie like they’re real friends, makes him feel like he’s going insane, like maybe he actually did die back in the Upside Down and everything that’s happened after has just been some crazy, fucked up version of the afterlife.

Except, Steve saved him. He doesn’t remember who told him, but someone must have, because the first day Eddie woke up (or really, the first day he remembers) that had been his first full thought.

Harrington gave me the goddamn kiss of life.

Followed immediately by:

He’s gonna lord this over me forever.

But Steve hasn’t even mentioned it. Eddie has some vague sort-of memory of one of them saying it probably tasted gross, but beyond that it just hasn’t come up, and it’s leaving him feeling kind of off balance. Like he’s forgotten the chords to his favorite song. His fingers are hovering over the strings, ready to play, but he doesn’t know what kind of sound is going to come out.

It was easy when they were both in school. Jock Harrington and Freak Munson, two opposite ends of the spectrum, never to collide past some classic teenage bullying and the occasional drug deal.

Now, they’re Steve and Eddie. Harrington and Munson, the savior and the saved. Two maybe-friends who apparently swapped spit, but in a totally I-had-to-do-it kind of way and the worst part is that Eddie doesn’t remember a single second of it.

He wonders, if he were to start flatlining, if Steve would do it again.

(But of course he wouldn’t. There are doctors and nurses around for that now, because that’s the only reason he did it in the first place, right? He was the only one who could, and Eddie’s grateful, but maybe also a little bit…ashamed? Stupid, for sure. He knows that it was last resort only, that he wouldn’t even think about doing it again unless he really had to, but here Eddie is, praying he might anyway).

“You just want an excuse to get drunk,” Eddie tells him, because he has to say something. Steve is looking at him like that, and he has to say something.

But then Steve’s smile goes a little wider, almost cocky, and he says, “Munson, I don’t need an excuse to get drunk, thank you very much.” Then, quieter, “Although, I’ve gotta admit, it’d be nice to get drunk because someone’s alive for a change.”

Eddie shouldn’t get it, but he does. He realizes it like a slap to the face, a big ohhhhhh. Steve Harrington, of the big house and the new money and the nice car, gets drunk for the same reason Eddie Munson gets high: to forget. The people they’ve let down, the ones who’ve left, to the ones who keep leaving. To the fact that maybe it’s never gonna get better and their entire lives are gonna be a big ol’ circle of finding and losing and regretting.

Finding people, losing them, regretting all the rest.

Steve is sitting next to him, staring at Eddie like he’s someone else, someone better, and Eddie thinks that he wants to break the cycle.

So, he groans and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Damn it, alright. We can have your little party.”

“Not my party.” Steve’s close to beaming, smug.

“Dustin’s party then.” Eddie bites his lip so he doesn’t laugh at how stupid this is. “He’s got big shoes to fill, though, I want a party that’s gonna put all of King Steve’s ragers to shame. I never got to actually have fun at one, y’know. Always too busy handing out the party favors.”

Steve snorts. “I’ll make sure it’s nothing but the best for you. Want me to roll out the red carpet, too?”

“Like it’s the goddamn Oscars.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

And then he winks, and Eddie realizes just how close they are. Steve’s leaning on the bed, their arms brushing, their faces close enough that Eddie could count every single one of Steve’s moles, pick out every individual shade of brown in his eyes and the smell of his body wash. The way his lips are parted and curved and Eddie has never wished more desperately that he remembered what they felt like. The taste of him, the amount of pressure and give, if he would bite and lick better.

It's a dangerous fantasy.

But Steve is looking at him like it’s real.

Before he can say anything, do anything, Steve leans back and says, “Once you’re out, I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

And Eddie, hopelessly fucked, can only say, “Can’t wait.”

[ilythecolorpink]

Let the Rain Fall (Kento Nanami x reader)

You've worked with Kento Nanami for around 4 years, and in time you've become fond of him. Little did you realize that he felt the same way about you, maybe a little bit too much.

It was a dark cloudy day, with the breeze blowing through your hair. Your body was worn out from the delicate nature of the successfully completed mission. Walking away from Jujutsu Tech, I stroll among the woods as the light brown leaves fall to the ground. One of the leaves drops on my head as I seek to remove it. I feel a small drizzle on me, and it gradually gets heavier. I try to move a little more quickly as I sprint to find some cover.

Suddenly, I sense that the rain is decreasing, and as I slowly look up, I see Nanami covering me with an umbrella. In a tone of surprise, I asked him, "What are you doing here?" He continues, "I'm sorry for startling you, I noticed that you had forgotten your umbrella, so I wanted to return it to you." while giving me an intent look. The umbrella is now being shared by the two of us as the rain intensifies. I remark, "Thank you so much, I can't believe that I forgot my umbrella like that, I could have sworn I brought it to the office, Well, no matter, I appreciate you being here." I stared at him in disbelief. He then grinned at me and said, "I'm glad I got here in time before the rain really started to get bad." I then approached him and, with a cheeky smile, remarked, "I guess you're my knight and shining armor huh?" as I wrapped my arm around his. "I suppose you can say that", he adds, lifting his hand to touch his glasses in an effort to cover his face.

As we cross the street and return to the main street, cars continue to drive by, and as I move ahead of Nanami, I almost trip on the sidewalk. However, Nanami catches me with his hand on my waist and says, "Y/N you have to be more careful, you could have gotten hurt." I apologize, explaining that I must not have been paying attention to where I was going because I had been so exhausted recently. As he responds, "I hope that this is okay, but may I stay over at your place tonight?" Nanami now has a worried expression. Then, with a flush of pink on my cheeks, I softly say, "I would really like that." With a twinkle in his eyes, he asks, "You live on 69th Street, don't you?" A little taken aback, I asked him, "Yeah, how do you know where I live?" He comments, "You see Gojo doesn't really know when to shut his mouth, remember that one day when he needed you to take care of the first years and he came to your house?" as he continues to walk.

I nod in agreement as he says, "Well, he told me if he wasn't available, he would send me to come to you." As I respond, I give him a reassuring grin and say, "Oh ok, you really do seem to know a lot about me Kento." He looks away from me and mumbles, "I know a lot more than you know." Subsequently, since I couldn't hear him, I inquired. The question "What did you say?" He dismisses me by telling me, "It's nothing." After a while, we got close to my house. I unlocked the door, and we both stood at the front door. He pushes me up against the wall, and when our bodies are almost touching, he whispers, "Fuck Y/N, you're so beautiful like this." "You're all mine and only mine, got that?" he then continues.  I respond with a blush and add, "I'm all yours, Kento, kiss me." He gives me a forceful kiss and cups one side of my face while I inhale his intoxicating cologne. He replies, "Tell me to stop darling, or else I won't be able to hold back." as I further entice him to me by grabbing onto his tie and wrapping one of my legs around his waist. I say, panting, "Don't stop, whatever you do, don't fucking stop." to him as I catch my breath.

[kengan-daddies]

My Byzantine Romance: Ohma Tokita x (F) Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter2

MY BYZANTINE ROMANCE : OHMA TOKITA X (F) READER

Anime : Kengan Ashura

Pairing: Ohma Tokita x (F) Reader

Warnings: Mention of death, horror, Violence, Mental Heath, Toxic Parents

You were an average woman, living in the big world, the city was busy and as loud as usual. The peoples where hustling and bustling, going to and fro. It was cloudy, but it wasn't raining. A relaxing breeze in the air, the leaves slowly changing colors, matching the cooling weather. Men and women of all ages, all going to different places.

You walked along the crowd, your mind wondering yet focused as you just walked, a destination in mind yet also not. You were an average woman, nothing special stood out about you, you weren't pretty, you weren't ugly, your weren't smart, you weren't dumb, you weren't tall, you weren't short, you weren't strong, you weren't weak. You were just average.

Average everything, you lived with your family, never having enough money to own your own place, you just made enough to take care of your needs, your hobbies and to help your family with groceries and household products. You sighed as you stopped suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, your mind processing before you shook your head and you continued on walking. 'Nope, got everything this time.'

You thought as you walked through the crowd, you passed by all kinds of people everyday, but nobody every really stood out that much, every now and then you'll see someone wearing your favorite anime as a shirt or hat, a favorite band or even have a similar aesthetic to yours. For a split second you'd think of walking over an talking to them about it, but then you'd loose your nerves. 'What fi they think I'm weird? What if they don't actually know the anime or band? What if they don't feel like talking? What if they're a bad person? A kidnapper? A murder? A rapist?... Never mind, I should keep to myself.'

You'd think, you wanted to make friends, but with how messed up the world was, you'd always second guess it. You were a scary cat, you'd rather stay inside then actually go out an adventure alone. You'd dream of going out, going to places at night, or to stores you never been in. You'd think of moving out, getting away from your toxic parents, you'd think of dating... but non of it would ever happen. You were too scared, too cautious, too aware of your reality.

'I need to get home, I'm ready to start on this new fanfiction, it looks good and I wanna read it. Not to mention I even found an amazing writer on Tumblr who has a pretty large masterlist. They write about my favorite character, he doesn't get enough love.' You thought, as you can see yourself now, laying in your bed, the room dark, the TV on low playing your favorite show/song in the back. You sighed blissfully.

"Woah!!" You said, as you came back into reality right before you ran into a person. You stared at them for a while. 'Man, this guy is huge.' You thought as you looked up at him. His skin was tan, and his hair was shaggy and wild, he wore a red and black jacket with blue jeans. "Sorry!!" You said with an awkward laugh and a little wave. He stared down at you, a strange fire in his fierce eyes before he seemed to relax. "It's fine." He said in a low voice. 'Wow, he's sexy with a sexy voice too?' You thought as you stepped around him with a small nod as you continued on your way. 'Man that guy was hot... Wonder what he would be like if he was my boyfriend....no,no,no... he probably already have a girlfriend, and knowing my luck he wouldn't even spare me a second glance.'

You thought in self pity as you walked on, slowly forgetting about your encounter with the man as you made your way on to your destination.

You sighed in happiness as you crawled into your bed, tossing your phone onto your pillow as you plopped down next to it, your aching legs tensing before relaxing. "HEHEHEHEHEEH!!!! I've been on my feet ALL DAY LONG!!!!" You giggled in glee as you pulled the blankets on you, snuggling into your cocoon. Your hand slipped up from the blanket to grab your phone, you turned it on, punched in the password, the screen lightening up to revealed your newly obtained fanfiction. "And it's 20 chapters long too? LETS GOOOO BABY!!!" You thought in glee as your began reading. 'Not to forget that it's a smut too? I must've hit the jackpot.' Was your last thought, before you got lost into your story.

5 hours later, you awoke up to your room was covered in a slightly orange hue, the TV was still on but nothing was playing, the sun was beginning to set. You sighed as you stretched before you went limp on the bed. Your sleepy mind slowly going back to sleep, but the sound of a large banging noise shook you awake. You laid there, still... BANG! BANG! BANG! You heard. Your lungs became tight and your body ran cold from slight fear. You seen the light come on from under your door, the sound of your family waking up and coming to the front to investigate.

You laid there, listening for a while to your parents and siblings complain about the crazy noise. "WHO THE HELL IS BEATING ON MY FUCKING DOOR LIKE THAT!?" Your mom shouted in anger and irritation. You could hear everyone speaking about it before the banging started again. BANG! BANG! BANG! "THIS BETTER BE THE FUCKING POLICE!! OR ELES I'M CALLING THE DAMN POLICE!!" Your father shouted as the sound of the front door unlocking and opening sounded out. You listened intensely, but everything went quite, the the sound of screaming and gun shots sounded throughout the house. You sat up quickly, your chest raising quickly as your breathing became labored, fear coursed through your cold body.

'Holy shit.....what the fuck..... why......I gotta go.' You mind thought, as you quickly reached for your phone, you tuned it on, checking your percentage. '55%... shit.' you thought. You looked at your door, seeing that it was locked. The sound of glass crashing to the ground made you jump, heavy furniture moving, small furniture being thrown carelessly. Every new noise made you jump as you shakily got up from your bed. You put on your sweat pants, before you shakily pulled on your hoodie, stuffing your phone and charger into your pockets. You walked over to the window, sliding the curtains to the side.

You looked out, checking your surroundings before you unlocked the window and you slowly slid it open. 'Never thought this shit would actually happen.' You thought, as you stepped on your bed, your body was so cold, but your mind was on auto pilot. You jumped up on the window seal, pushing your body up until you sat on the window seal. The sound of the robbers roaming about your home grew louder as they drew nearer to your room. You looked back at your room, one last time before you jumped out. You hissed in slight pain as you landed on the uneven dirt, but you forced yourself to move quickly. You reached back up to your window, sliding it back closed to the best of your ability, but you gave up half way when the sound of your doorknob began jiggling.

"Fuck it." You said as you made a mad dash for it. Your bare feet slapping on the ground as you ran down the street, you breath labored and your legs burned your lungs ached but you refused to stop until you made it to the park. 'If I make it to the park, I can blend in, and match the people.' You thought. Honestly, you probably could've just acted like a young woman walking past the house, but your adrenaline was pumping, your fear was guiding you.

You huffed and puffed, as you staggered over to the park bench, you plopped down on it, as you focused on your breathing. "Holy shit." You breathed out, you sat there a while longer before you began to chuckle to yourself, your laughter growing in volume as the people around you stared at you like you were crazy, but you didn't care. "I survived... I survived... I actually made it out... the one person in the family, who never been in any form of real life situation as extreme as that. The sheltered child of the family, the one who was 'lazy' and 'cuddled'.... actually survived.....all by myself... I'm actually alone now... no more annoying siblings... no more toxic parents... no more anything....everyone is dead... they're all gone... I'm the only one left... I'm the only one.... left." You said, your chuckling died down, as you were left sitting there, numb.

No emotions could explain how you felt, no words could describe how lost you felt, nothing mattered anymore, as you sat there, lost in the daze, as shock over came you. The people in the park, non the wiser of what you just experienced, of what you just went through. You felt small, you felt alone, as you sat there in the park, on the bench. You sat there for a long time, the crowd of people slowly getting smaller and smaller, as the area grew quiet, dark and empty... just like your home... You sat there for hours, you should've called the cops, you should've asked for help, but the adrenaline wore off, and the crushing weight of reality kicked in... making your mind go blank and empty.

Someone walked past you, their walking was confident, and strong, no worries, no insecurities, you looked up, your dull eyes seeing the familiar black and red jacket, the Tan skin and the shaggy hair. 'It's the man from before.' You thought, as you watched him walk past you, not giving you a second glance as he went on about his business, you stared at him for a moment. His back was straight, sharp, and strong. He didn't have any issues, he didn't have any weight, he was his own man. You stared at him, suddenly moved by his own confidence, as you reached into your pocket, and you pulled out your phone, unlocking it as you went and dialed 911.

"This is the local police department, what seems to be your emergency?" Asked the male operator... You sat there for a moment longer, watching the man walk into the dark, towards what seems to be a larger silhouette. "Hello, I'd like to report a murder robbery, sir." You spoke calmly. "Okay, and can you tell us where this took place at, ma'am?" He asked, not sounding as relaxed as he was at first. You gave them the address of your home as well as much information about the situation as you could. "6 family members. 2 sons, 2 daughters, a mother and father, all dead." You said. The operator was quiet for a moment before he spoke once more.

"How many robbers are in area?" He asked. "Not sure, but I'd say 4 to be safe." You said. He went quiet once more before he asked one last question. "Do you have any relations to this family?" He asked. You answered, without hesitation. "No, I never knew them, I just seen what happened, and I'm reporting it." You said, your eyes never leaving the two men's silhouettes as they seemed to be in an heated argument. The man spoke once more. "Your name, Miss, for records, and where is your current location?" He asked, a edge to his voice. You remained silent, as you hung up the phone.

You turned it on airplane mode, before you pocketed it. You stood up, pulling the hood over your head, making a move to follow the two men. You didn't know what made you want to follow. By right you shouldn't care, by right you should be grieving, you should be waiting for the cops to come find you, you should be a mess by now, you shouldn't be like this.... so numb.... So empathetic. But you were, and for some reason, you couldn't find it in you to be sad. In fact, you were starting to feel glee, happiness, joyous even.

"I'm free." You said, your feet feeling light, your shoulders not so heavy, your mind free. "I'm free to do whatever now... no more hiding behind my parents, who were oh so strict with my safety, keeping me chained home with their manipulative head games... no more getting told how much of a fuck up I am, just because I make one little mistake... no more... I'm free." You spoke, a smile stretching on your face, as you followed the men around the corner leading to the city. The sound of police sirens filled your ears, and you looked back, seeing swarms of cops getting out, as they searched the area for you.

You stared at them all for a second, before you waved them goodbye, as you walked around the corner. "I'm gonna need a job, I need a place to live, I need to make it out here... as a new person." You said as you followed the men for so long before you stopped, you watched as they dipped into an alleyway, before they were followed by a wry old man with a briefcase.... 'Hmm.'

[mythos321]

part 4 of my Wof x Persona au

Chapter 4:Rising Waves

Clay awoke from his dream, though, he was much more sure it was real than before, realizing now it’s connected to the castle, and are related to his persona. Though he had a million and one questions, Clay knew he needed to most importantly focus on one thing, that damned school.

He prepared to leave the cavern, and saw Kestrel wasn’t around this time, likely still resting at wherever it is she sleeps…that or she died, admittedly, the former was more realistic. Clay then exited the cavern, making sure to flip the sign to Open, and headed off, enjoying the rain as it landed and slipped off of his scales, he wondered if Rainwings liked rain even more, though, from what he remembered, it actually stood for Rainforest, so maybe they didn’t like rain.

As he flew, Clay also decided to listen in on a conversation between two seawings, talking about the recent crash flight, which Clay found boring for the most part, though a part that slightly freaked him out was that these had been so common that they could be small talk, in fact, this crash might’ve not even been the same one he and Kestrel had seen!

He tried to pay less mind on it, and simply soared back down with some other students, one that caught multiple peoples eyes was a pale orange, almost yellow colored skywing, whose scales were similar to the inside of a sweet peach, with a blank but innocent stare to herself, almost like she didn’t have a single thought in her head. Part of what interest Clay about her though was a small pouch around her neck, wrapped by a gold chain around her neck that looked like it was practically glued to her with how tight it was on her long neck.

“Isn’t that her?” whispered a student, bad enough for Clay to eavesdrop but seemed to be good enough for the skywing to not notice.

“The one with the nosering and brown pouch?”

“Yeah, her. Ugh, she’s so thin, it’s not fair!”

“I don’t know, I think thicker is-“ It was at that moment Clay decided to tune them back out and simply continue back on his walk down towards the school, accidentally bumping into the skywing as he did.

“O-oh! apologies I didn’t mean to bother you sir! I’ll slow down so you can get more up ahead if you’d like! I don’t want any trouble, really!”

“Woah woah woah, hey, it’s fine, I just accidentally bumped into you, you don’t have to change your pace up, just keep it how you’re going! Besides, it’d be my fault if anything!” Clay reassured her quickly, slightly weirded out at the skywings skittishness, since he had heard they were mostly prideful and confident.

“guess ya shouldn’t believe l stereotypes, hm…guess I’m not much different…” Clay thought to himself, feeling kind of like a jerk for his mental assumptions

“Oh, you look sad, I’m sorry! really, um, I should be going fast now! You go to the same school, right? I’m a second year myself. Okay BYE!” The skywing then ran off, as Clay wondered if he scared her that badly to where she’d decide to run away.

“Ugh, I’m terrible at this! I wouldn’t be shocked if she heard the rumors about me to…probably thinks I’m some psychopath…just push it down Clay, just push it down, and get to school…”

**

Clay entered his first class of the day, which seemed to be taught by a man named Webs, who was teaching general pyrrhian history. Clay had a feeling he would start by teaching about The Scorching and so decided to stare outside of the classroom and look around at the view.

He saw large growing tree in the distance behind some of the schools trails, nicely made caves that could fit a surprising amount of dragonets inside, a near pitch black Nightwing that seemed to be staring directly at him while perched on the side of a cave, a river that led into the ocean and seemed to be the Seawings main traveling point, a nice cloudy sky, and the now processed fact that a Nightwing was stalking him.

Clay tried to look around for his little Nightwing stalker again, trying to make them out, but they completely blended in, like a bark of wood in a pile of mud. Even so, Clay kept trying to focus, a little more and more, until finally he thought he found someone-

“HEY MUDWING, ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?!” Webs yelled, as he then tossed the chalk he was using at Clay, who without even looking caught it midair, but had now had his concentration completely disrupted in the process.

“Here’s your chalk Sir, sorry for not paying attention.” Clay told the baffled Webs as he handed him his chalk before walking back to where he was sitting.

“Y-yeah, you better be…” Webs said in a failed attempt to reassert dominance, as multiple dragonets could now be heard snickering at Webs’ humiliation, assuming they weren’t in awe at Clays casualness in catching the chalk.

“Best case scenario, I was seeing things. Worst case scenario, that teachers now the death of me.” Clay thought to himself, before focusing himself on Webs’ history lesson.

**

“Have you heard about that Skywing girl?”

“Didn’t she get hand chosen by Queen Scarlet herself? She must be really special, I wonder what for though?”

“I heard people saw her get harassed by that criminal! poor gal, having to deal with pieces of crap like him.”

“Assault, Blackmail, Drugs, I bet he’s done it all!”

“I hear he’s ready to bite people if you just look at him funny…”

**

Classes were over for the day, and Clay decided to use his time looking for that Nightwing he saw before. He was to vivid for him to be fake, but Clay could tell they didn’t wanna be found so easily.

“Are they a stalker? An assassin? Someone who has a hard time talking with people and stares at them instead? Okay probably not that last one, or at least unrelated to that if they did have that problem? I wonder if I’m like that, I mean, I mainly just talked with my sibs and aunt so maybe my social skills aren’t as good as I expect. Wait, I’m getting off topic here! Focus on finding the Nightwing, and don’t let any Seawing distract you-”

“Yo!” Tsunami rushed over, making Clay jump for a moment in shock

“Jeez! ya trying to ambush me or something?!” Clay said, completely losing his train of thought

“Oh come on dude it wasn’t that big a deal! ugh, look, I wanna talk about that castle from yesterday alright?” Tsunami explained, as her and Clay began to walk away from the school for a moment and stand on the outskirts with some rocks in the forest for them to sit on an talk

“I mean, I tried telling myself it was all some weird shared dream… But I couldn’t do it. I can’t act like nothing happened! It’s all connected to that smug bastard Whirlpool after all! I wanna find out more about that place, no matter what… and well…you’re the only person I can rely on for this. So, you in?” Tsunami asked him, and Clay felt something inside himself warm up hearing how she truly does trust him…it was nice, he didn’t know how to put it into proper words, but he did know his answer to her request

“Let’s do this!” Clay affirmed with passion, holding his tail as Tsunami intertwined it with her own

“Sweet! glad we’re in this together man! I think our best course of action right now is to retrace our steps from before. In the meantime, you’re flying home right? should we go our separate ways in the investigation?”

“No no, if ya want we can walk together instead!” Clay told her, as Tsunami suddenly beamed with a smile

“Sweet! keep an eye out for any strange buildings while we walk!”

“Tsunami seems like a pretty decent gal. I don’t see anything wrong in going along with this, even if we don’t end up finding the place, having someone to talk with just feels nice anyway!” Clay thought to himself, as he and Tsunami began their walk around to investigate

**

“Let’s see, if a castle like that really exists, we should find it in no time… When they’d even find time to build that big thing though?” Tsunami wondered aloud, as she and Clay kept looking around

“We walked that way from here, right?”

“Yeah! That’s when ya got up in my face and began your rant to me on Whirlpool and stuff.”

“Good to know! Ha! I did get in your face didn’t I? I think I saw the color of your eyes at the time. Brown, right?”

“Yeah, yours are translucent green.” Clay told her, which Tsunami was surprised at, since she didn’t think someone would just know a persons eye color shade off the top of their head.

“Ha! neat! Well, lemme know if you notice something!” Tsunami told him, as the two walked through, and saw…the school

“Huh?”

“We’re at school???” Clay questioned, as surprised as Tsunami was at what they weren’t seeing.

“There wasn’t anything out of place along the way, right? I didn’t see a castle either…Did we make a wrong turn?”

“I feel like we’d have noticed it along the way right? It’s weird…”

“Let’s just keep looking around! we’ll find something, for sure!” Tsunami stated confidently, as the two retraced their step, and ended up eight back at the school

“For real?!” The duo said simultaneously

“What the hell’s going on…hey, you had a book on you right? back then at least.” Tsunami asked, and a lightbult went off in Clays head.

“Oh, yeah! Maybe it can get us to that place!”

“Yeah! mind if I look at it?” Tsunami asked, as Clay got it out of his bag and handed Tsunami the little book, as she snatched it and began taking a look at it.

“What’s this eyeball-looking thing anyhow?”

“I think it’s a cute logo honestly, can’t seem to get rid of it though.”

“I think it looks creepy- wait really? man, what a weird book, if not for current situations I’d tell ya to get an exorcist, now let’s see here…BOOYAH! written in right here! nice hindsight Clay!”

“…hehe, yeah.” Clay said, knowing completely well he didn’t write that in, but not wanting to freak her out.

“Ah man, we’re geniuses! Let’s do this!”

“Do you know how to?”

“Not at all, but I think I can do this! maybe I just gotta push down and!…” as Tsunami pushed down, the Book began to react

“Beginning navigation. Whirlpool… Academy… Abuser… Castle… Beginning Navigation.”

“Alright! and then we go a certain direction and-” before Tsunami could finish her sentence, the area suddenly began to shift around them both

“What the hell???” Tsunami said out loud, as Clay and her kept next to each other as the book floated into the air, and reality distorted around them, with the schools grounds rising to massive heights in the shapes of a castle, until Tsunami and Clay suddenly stood on top of a drawbridge

“It’s the castle from yesterday! We made it back after all!” Tsunami said as she and Clay rushed through the bridge and the to the front of the castle, looking in the sky as they saw dozens of puppets like dragons guarding the higher parts of the castle to prevent anyone from just flying in.

“So, seems what happened yesterday was for real after all- WOAH, YOU GOT THOSE CLOTHES ON AGAIN!” Tsunami pointed out, as Clay realized he was in his nearly all black attire from when he used his Persona. “That happened last time too, huh!? What’s with that outfit?!?”

“I have no idea! It’s pretty cool though!…you jelly?”

“HELL YEAH I AM, why can’t I get a cool suit too?! Man even without that this makes no sense at all!” Tsunami yelled out, as the two then saw a pair of familiar green and golden eyes that revealed itself as Turtle, still in his attire from before and slightly strange form.

“Hey, can you quit the commotion you’re making? !”

“What the, you? what are you still doing here?”

“Shadows started acting a little different, as though something had changed for them, so I came back to investigate. What are YOU two doing here? you barely managed to escape last time!”

“as I recall, you didn’t do much better, no?…Ya mind explaining what this place even is? Is it the school?” Clay asked, and Turtle nodded his head

“Correct! It takes the form of a castle in this place, hence why it looks like this and not like the school. Basically, it looks like a castle to its ruler!” Turtle detailed

“Its ruler?” Tsunami questioned

“If I remember right, his names Whirlpool, correct? This is how his distorted heart views the school.” Turtle stated

“Whirlpools distorted desire?…Ugh! can’t you just explain it better! I’m so lost!” Tsunami demanded, as Turtle sighed

“I shouldn’t have expected a moron to get it anyway.” Turtle said, rolling his eyes, as Tsunami then began to march at him

“What did you just say you little weirdo?!” Tsunami said through gritted teeth, until they all suddenly heard pained cries from inside the castle

“What was that!” Clay demanded, wanting to help whoever that was as fast as possible

“It must be the slaves that are held captive here.” Turtle answered, simply opening up even MORE questions of what was happening.

“For real?!” Tsunami asked, as she suddenly heard even more pained cries, “SHIT, it’s for real! Damn it, I saw some people held captive here yesterday… probably some of Whirlpools students…” Tsunami mentioned

“It must be a representation of how he treats his students in real life, bruising and abusing them to massive means without a care of their wellbeing.” Turtle added on, as Clay remembered Anemone from the day before, and how hurt she looked

“Damn it…was that what was happening to her?! I knew Whirlpool was awful but…damn it, she barely even looked two years old!” Clay thought to himself, wishing he could do more for her, that maybe he could do something about her “teacher” especially if Coral was going to just ENCOURAGE it instead of stop what was happening to her own daughter…

“What’s more, because of your guys escape yesterday, he must have lost his temper, and is taking it out on his prisoners in here.”

“THAT SON OF A BITCH!” Tsunami yelled, as she swung her tail against the castles large door, shaking it in as she did it, “YOU HEAR THAT WHIRLPOOL? THATS GONNA BE YOUR FACE WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU.” Tsunami yelled as she continued to bash on the door, Clay was honestly tempted to join her

“Doing that isn’t gonna open it, but…I can see you have your reasons, so I won’t budge you on it.” Turtle said, as Tsunami calmed down

“Hey, Turty.”

“Turtle.”

“Do you know where those voices are coming from?” Tsunami asked, and Clay showed interest in it as well

“You want me to take you there?…Well, I don’t see why not, though, only if he comes with us!” Turtle said, looking at Clay

“Let’s go.” Clay said without any hesitation, wanting to help these people as fast as possible.

“For real?… thanks man! I knew I could count on you…” Tsunami said, as she and Clay shared a smile

“Alright, let’s do this! follow me!” Turtle said as he walked over to a small familiar opening on the side to the castles door.

“This, is our infiltration point!” Turtle explained

“Ain’t that where we busted out from last time?” Questioned Tsunami.

“That’s right. Not barging in through the entrance is one of the basics of phantom thievery!”

“How exactly were we supposed to know that?!” Tsunami questioned, as Clay nodded in agreement

“I’ll teach ya the ropes as we go. Come on now, follow me!” Turtle told them as he jumped to surprising heights, as Clay and Tsunami were left alone to talk to one another.

“So, uh… sorry for draggin’ you into all of this, you really don’t deserve to be wrapped in my shit…But, UGH! I just can’t forgive that bastard for doing whatever the hell he wants! And I hate that my mom just lets it happen because he kisses her ass, they’re both the worst!…Really, though, thank you for comin’ along, I owe you big time man!” Tsunami told him, as Clay smiled back at her

“Hey, I wouldn’t have it any other way! If I gotta fight 50 castles worth of your problems, I’d still help you out, what else are friends for?…so…do you want to hold onto me while I make that jump?” Clay asked, as Tsunami snorted for a moment, before answering

“That would be appreciated, yeah.” Tsunami said as she went onto and held onto Clays back, and he jumped through into the castle, keeping himself steady to keep pressure off Tsunamis wing.

“Man, this place is almost as creepy as last time…” Tsunami stated as she hopped off of Clays back.

“Mm-hm, just make sure to do as I say, all right?”

“Gotcha!” Clay and Tsunami stated simultaneously as they followed behind Turtle into the Castle.

[jaegerisim]

PT. 2 of my HP x BYLER AU

The summer holidays passed by in a blur and between homework and hanging out with Will, Mike had been pretty busy.

Now, in "Platform 9 and 3/4" Mike buzzed with excitement to hug Will. Although they'd seen each other barely 48 hours ago, Mike couldn't help but feel like they'd been 48 days or years. So he moved around with his trolley until he spotted a familiar brown head sticking up in the multitude.

Mike pushed his trolley forward and grinned at Will, who still hadn't seen him as he was focused on something or someone else. That person was Max, who was babbling excitedly about all the new curses and charms Robin was going to teach her this year, while Will nodded along. Meanwhile, Will's mother fussed over how Will's hand-me-down shoes were already displaying holes and his tie was all crooked. Jonathan had his arms wrapped around Steve Harrington whose cheeks were a pretty red color.

Will turned to look at his brother, who stuck his tongue at him. Max grabbed Will's hand trying to draw his attention towards whatever it was she was saying. Will slapped her hand away playfully and she said something in mock offense.

Mrs. Byers was watching the whole interaction with an amused face. Finally, Mike reached his limit and marched over.

"Will!" Mike called "I missed you!"

"So, did I," Will laughed as Mike pulled him away from Max "but we saw each other 2 days ago! It's been weeks since I've seen Max!"

Mike frowned, they'd seen each other during the summer, without The Party? Worse of all, Will hadn't told Mike about this. It was outrageous, they'd promised to tell each other everything! This was all Max's fault.

Not only that, but the red-haired girl he got on Mike's nerves because she seemed to go wherever Will went, meaning he would no longer have Will to himself.

Once in the train, they bumped into El, Lucas and Dustin. Who invited Mike, Will and Max to sit with them. Much to Mike's dismay, Will sat next to the window and Max took the seat next to him.

So Mike sat between El and the door. El was acting weirder than she had last year, she was constantly red in the face and stuttered a lot. Mike almost thought she has a fever, but apparently that wasn't it. Anyways, seeing Max and Will share inside jokes and swap food provokes something really ugly inside of Mike, something burning and painful.

Since Mike was too focused on his own jealousy, he failed to notice Will's own frustration and longing stares while Mike seemingly "flirted" with El.

As the days passed Mike felt he and Will were growing distant from each other. Will hung out with Max and Robin more often while Mike felt like El was the only one who truly understood him.

"Mike!" cried Will, one cloudy, spring day, as he rushed into the courtyard where Mike sat "I tried out for the Quidditch team and they accepted me! I'm a Beater! Training starts tomorrow!"

Mike wanted to be happy for him, he truly did. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to genuinely be happy for his best friend. He couldn't fathom his sweet and caring Will playing such a dangerous sport.

"Will, be honest, do you even like Quidditch?" Mike asked, with a skeptical frown.

"Y- Yeah! I do. It's a great sport and Professor Creel says I'll be a great Beater!" Will sounded defensive.

"Professor Creel? You trust him? Will, he's not to be trusted!" insisted Mike

"I'm sorry?" snapped Will "He is not to be trusted? Why? 'Cause he's a Slytherin, right?"

Mike bit his lip, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Well, guess what? I'm Slytherin too! Does that mean you can't trust me either, huh?"

It began to rain and at one point Mike didn't know if the droplet he felt against his cheeks were tears or the rain itself.

"That's not what I meant!" Mike sobbed

"You sure, Mike? Professor Creel is a magnificent teacher. Just because you're Gryffindor and don't like him doesn't mean he is bad. Not every Slytherin is bad, y'know? Although you Wheelers seem to unjustly despise all of us!"

"That's just not true!" Mike scoffed, why was Will being such an asshole about this?

"I'm leaving! I'm gonna go find Max and Robin 'cause at least they'll be happy for me" spat Will.

"Will, you can't leave!" Mike tried desperately "It's raining" but it was hopeless, Will had already left him.

For the next few weeks, things were awkward between Will and Mike, their conversations had become stilted and forced until they stopped completely. The catalyst for this was Mike hearing rumors of Will and Max dating. Rumors he thought made sense, they were always together, they held hands sometimes and they were super protective of each other. Another reason why Mike felt betrayed by Will. Will hadn't told Mike he liked Max, how were they supposed to be best friends if they kept secrets from each other!

By the last days of school, Hogwarts buzzed with excitement.

The Quidditch match finals were just around the corner. The 2 Houses competing were Hufflepuff and Slytherin, which meant the 2 Byers Brothers were up against each other.

Both were quite the players as Will was pretty bold and didn't think twice of hitting the Bludger with his bat while Jonathan did fantastic saves as a Keeper.

Begrudgingly, Max invited The Party to come see Will but by the first part of the match, El had become bored of the game and told Mike to accompany her back to the school grounds.

Mike accepted since he thought Will wouldn't even care if he wasn't there, curiously, Max shot him a furious glare when he got up to leave.

Both him and El talked for hours, walking around aimlessly. El told him that her Dad had began to date Will's mom and that Will and her are going to be together a lot this summer.

Then, when the sun was almost down, they sat in the courtyard and El grabbed the side of his face, her cheeks were a rosy color and her mouth was in a shy smile.

Mike felt paralyzed, he knew what was going to happen. El was going to kiss him! Yet, he didn't feel that fluttery sensation his sister told him she felt when she kissed her best friend Barb and her ex-boyfriend Steve. His hands weren't all sweaty or clammy like Lucas described he feels when his near his crush. Nor was he a rambling, stuttery mess like Dustin! What did that mean? Why wasn't he feeling the things he should?

"Do you want to do this, Mike?" whispered El, softly

"Um, uh, Ye- Yeah. I do." He can't believe it took him so much willpower to want to kiss El. No, to want to kiss a girl.

El began to kiss him and he kissed her back. Still, nothing magical happened, it was the most boring thing ever. He was just kind of there.

He heard a noise from behind him and he turned around to find Will and Max staring at them, shocked. Max balled her fists and angrily stormed away muttering curses. Will on the other hand, stood there, mouth parted, tears welling up.

Mike knew he fucked up. He'd abandoned Will's important game to kiss a girl. He shouldn't have done that, he knows that.

Will turned around and left, wiping his face with his emerald Quidditch robe.

Mike didn't run after him, Mike turned to face El. She looked slightly sad but mostly confused, she didn't understand what happened.

The last day of school, Mike went over to the Slytherin table at The Great Hall.

"Hey, Will." he began

He felt Max glare daggers at him and Robin give him the stink-eye, several other Slytherins snickered. Billy, had a sneer plastered on his annoying and punchable face.

"Hi?" answered the smaller boy with confusion l

"I wanted to apologize for our argument, ok?" Mike apologized using his softest voice

"It's ok, Mike, really" Will dismissed with a small wave.

"No, it isn't I-" Mike insisted because it wasn't ok it was wrong.

"I said drop it, Mike" the brunet snapped. He did that a lot lately and when he did, he looked eerily similar to his father. It made Mike shudder. Mike shrugged helplessly and left to meet El and Lucas.

Lucas was blushing and El frowned at whatever Lucas was saying.

"So then me and Max kissed under the bleachers, yesterday and it was awesome!" Lucas gushed

Wait, Max and Lucas? Weren't she and Will dating? But if they kissed that meant that the duo were just friends and Mike had misunderstood everything. He'd fucked up again and Will was obviously not fine. Maybe the summer and spending time with El would help.

Mike ended his second year at Hogwarts wondering where exactly he'd gone wrong.

[fioreofthemarch]

Finding Her - Chapter 19

Link makes notes, takes photos and keeps time on his quest across Hyrule, in the hopes of finding Zelda and staying sane until he does. [ Previous | Next | First | AO3 ]

Log date: 17:35. 9th month, 18th day 104AC Location: Lookout Landing, Emergency Shelter  Weather: Overcast, drizzle 

Arm hurts, really hurts. A Yiga got me there. In a bad way, but getting better. 

Don’t know where to start or where to end. It’s Autumn already, but it was Summer yesterday. Talk of a Blood Moon soon. Or did that already happen? Head’s swimming. Losing my grip a little and then suddenly I’m

Upstairs, in the loft, dozing. Zelda’s downstairs. Where’s the flour? she asks, I want to bake something. It’s been over a hundred years! So we try but I’m a better cook than a baker and she’s a culinary mad scientist. No measuring cups, no recipes, just vibes. We’re sitting on the floor waiting for the cake to bake, flour everywhere, and then she’s on my lap, then her lips are on mine, then her apron is gone along with the rest of our clothes, and when I wake up in bed next to her, there’s still flour in her hair. 

Was that yesterday or the day before? Trying to hold on. Time flowing through me like air out a window. If I reach out I can catch moments in my palm: Standing with Scorpis under a sunshade, waiting for the rain to pass. He’s telling me it’s a family legend that his great-grandfather was a Knight, like me. Then I’m with Jerrin, getting my bandages changed. She says it’s a miracle I survived, or perhaps the Goddess’ idea of a joke. Then Muzu is insisting we train the soldiers harder, but Slergo and Offrak say people are already working their guts off. Gralens hands me the latest edition of the Lucky Clover Gazette. Buliara and Harth take inventory of my gear and weapons. Mubs reads me a letter from Garini, who says hi. 

I’m here. I’m trying to be here. They’re saying the Sages are on their way to Lookout Landing. They say victory is near. But all I wanted was her, and that future only half-dreamed. The one where we have a house on a hill and it’s being renovated to add a library. Zelda’s downstairs, reviewing the plans over a cup of tea, and I’m upstairs, in the loft, checking on the baby. He was a winter-born child, like me, so he’s strong. There’s a cake in the oven. And it’s a good one.

A photograph of the kitchen in the Emergency Shelter. It’s quite orderly, as though someone has recently given it a tidy, though some jars of flour, sugar, milk and yeast are still out of place. There is a fire crackling below the stove.

Caption: Does she prefer vanilla or chocolate icing? I should know this…

---

Log date: 19:34. 9th month, 21st day 104AC Location: Passeri Greenbelt, Hyrule Field   Weather: Partly cloudy 

Cool morning. Trees are going red now. Rode out with the Monster Control Crew at noon. There’s a camp nearby that they hit once every few weeks, but each time it gets rebuilt a little closer to Lookout Landing. We prayed at the Goddess Statue before we left. Paya is here now, leading the services. As the hours tick down, all round the clock, people pray. 

The Sages arrived two days ago. Impa and Robbie not long after that. Here to give every last Message Medallion a service, Robbie said, while Impa handed Josha a stack of ancient texts to translate. Then, an emergency meeting with the Sages. They’re fidgeting, they’ve heard the rumours. Purah starts saying something but I stop her. They won’t believe the truth from anyone but me. Don’t know what I said, only that I tried to think of how Zelda would tell them, if she were in my place. 

Felt like all hell broke loose after. Gasps, cries, bowed heads, furious tears and vows of vengeance. All that anger and grief is a torch to a powder keg. Suddenly Purah is saying we march at dawn, tomorrow we avenge our Princess and destroy the Demon King! And I’m standing there unable to breathe because I realise I'm not ready. I can’t face him yet and I don’t know why. And I’m trying to think of how to say that without freaking everyone out, because your hero isn’t exactly meant to have second thoughts… when it’s Josha who saves me one final time. 

‘You can’t go!’ she cries. She grabs some ancient book and flips through the pages, pointing to what looks like a lunar chart, with a bright red circle at its centre. ‘There is a Blood Moon tomorrow! If it happens while you’re down in the Depths, it could be a disaster!’ 

More whispers. A bit of back and forth. Purah brushes her off as paranoid, but then the Sheikah gather around a couple calendars and do a few calculations, and in the end, the attack is called off. 

So Ganondorf got himself another day, and so did I. Can’t delay forever but… there’s just something not settled in me yet. When we win this, everyone else’s lives go back to normal. 

But what about mine? 

A photograph of the night sky, clear as glass and only broken up by the pinprick lights from distant stars. Low above the horizon, almost pulsating, is a huge, crimson moon. 

Caption: She was right, the little rebel. 

---

Log date: 10:00. 9th month, 22nd day 104AC Location: Sanidin Park Ruins, Hyrule Ridge Weather: Fine 

They’ll have realised I left by now. I put a note on my pillow promising to come back by sun-down. Have to keep moving in case they send scouts after me. 

Not abandoning them. Would never dream of it. But I promised myself to chase every lead and this last one is for me. 

Read through the Lucky Clover Gazette this morning and a headline on page 8 caught my eye. WINGED WRITER HANGS UP HIS FLYING GOGGLES. Penn? He’s leaving the Gazette? He told me that Traysi loved his work. I have a great all-weather climbing set to show for it. 

Might be stalling. Might not. Just want to figure this one out. Penn was looking for Zelda too, after all. And maybe searching for something else along the way – a reason to wake up each morning, get back on the trail, and soar long… 

He deserves to know what happened, or at least for someone to thank him for his hard work. Or maybe I just want to see a friendly face, before the end of it all. 

A photograph of the said Lucky Glover Gazette article, held up for the camera, the greenery of Hyrule Field just visible in the background. There is an illustration of Penn literally hanging up his goggles, with a pantomimed look of resignation on his face. 

Caption: You can take the man out of the newspaper… 

---

Log date: 15:50. 9th month, 22nd day 104AC Location: Great Sky Island, Central Hyrule Archipelago  Weather: Clear

I found Penn on Washa’s Bluff, in a gazebo where an old friend and I sat once. Kass would sing until the sun went down, and as thanks I’d make us both dinner. His songs still carry on the wind if you know how to listen. They’re the songs of the land, after all. 

We talked for a long time. I told Penn we made a great team, that his leads were invaluable, and that chasing them down kept me on my toes. Sure, we didn’t find Zelda, but we told the stories of her people and should be proud of that. He said he’s still leaving the paper no matter my flattery. Spoke about having lost his touch, that his instincts were gone. A reporter without instincts is like a Knight without a sword. It didn’t help when he noticed that I did, in fact, have my sword back. 

‘Don’t worry about me, partner,’ Penn said. ‘I’ll get back in the air, someday.’

But I was worried. I didn’t want Penn to lose hope… I didn’t want to lose hope. And in that moment, it felt like waking up. Like surfacing from beneath deep waters. I wanted to be alive. I wanted to live a good life. I knew I still did, even without her, even with all the pain.

So I said to him that maybe wanting to be better is its own instinct. Maybe trying to find something or someone or some meaning to it all is what keeps us going. And maybe we don’t have to do any of that alone. Penn sat with that for a long time, and then pulled out his notebook.

‘Would you want to write a column for the Gazette?’ he asked. ‘Our readers would love it. I’ll edit it, of course.’ How could I say no? We shook on it then and there. So much for his sabbatical.

It’s nearly time. I bid Penn farewell, then came here. Wondered — if I could choose how to spend one last afternoon, what would I do? The answer was easy, though it took a little while to coax Zelda to join me. But now we’re here and we’re ready: for a nap, with the sun on our backs, and nothing else but us and the quiet moments we can still share. 

I miss you, Zelda, even though you’re right here. I miss you more than I could ever say. But I’m going to keep on living. I’m going to live enough life for the both of us. I think it’s what you might have wanted. 

If nothing else, I consider it a duty. What is a Knight, if not a devotee to his lady? 

A photograph of the Light Dragon, coiled around a hollow tree stump that sits atop one of the atolls of the Great Sky Island. Three Korok wind-fans are placed in front of her snout – a makeshift lure, and apparently a successful one. On her mane is Link, resting comfortably on her hair. Together, they doze. 

Caption: You deserve all the rest in the world. 

---

Audio log transcription date: 104.09.24  Time: 9 minutes 45 seconds.

LNK | 08:00 Gloom’s Approach in sight. All units report. Vanguard?

MIN | 08:00 We will lead the charge. 

YNB | 08:00 Launching on your command, Link!   

LNK | 08:01 Flank? 

RIJ | 08:01 Static charging as we speak.

TLN | 08:01 With some guidance. Arrows ready. Any monsters down there won’t know what hit ‘em.

LNK | 08:01 And rearguard? 

SDN | 08:02 I am here. If you are hit, fall back to me. 

LNK | 08:02 Last not but least, intel? 

JSH | 08:02 Reporting in. We’re here to help from Lookout Landing, however we can! 

LNK | 08:04 Alright, listen to me. Zelda gave us everything she had for this, but she also gave me an order: protect you all. If anything happens, you get yourselves out. Everybody lives, do you understand me?

MIN | 08:04 Link… 

TLN | 08:04 What about you?

SDN | 08:04 Zelda would not want you to throw yourself at death!  

LNK | 08:05 That’s not happening, not when I have her power right here with me.

RIJ | 08:05 Then give us your orders Link.

YNB | 08:05 We’ll do whatever you say. 

LNK | 08:05 Fight smart, hit hard. Don’t touch any Gloom, keep your Sundelions in reach. As soon as we have a visual on Ganondorf, we do whatever it takes to finish the job. Clear? 

[All answer: ‘Clear’]

LNK | 08:06 And whatever happens… I’m glad to have spent this time with you.

RIJ | 08:06 Likewise, Link.

MIN | 08:07 Yes, it has been an honour. 

TLN | 08:07 We’ll finish this together! 

SDN | 08:07 For the Princess!

YNB | 08:08 For Zelda!  

LNK | 08:08 For Zelda. Any last words? Josha? 

JSH | 08:09 Nothing at the moment, but the further underground you go, the weaker your signal will be. I’m going to disable a few processes to conserve power, like the audio transcription. Let’s hope we don’t need it.

LNK | 08:09 You heard her. Make it count. Or at least live to tell the tale.

LNK | 08:10 Okay, heading in. See you on the other side.

[calmcoldevening]

I need Eric fic where he stops reader from suicide.

Eric stops reader from the suicide

Tw: obsessive thoughts, thoughts of death, suicide attempt, self-harm, angst

Ps: english is not my native language, so sorry for misspells

Kitten, remember that suicide is not the best way out, you can always find another, safe way out. You need to contact specialists, they will help. If you need to talk to someone about your bad thoughts, my private messages are always open.

*Kiss and hug*

You've been looking pretty lately.. strange. You used to be more cheerful and friendly, constantly telling something quickly or joyfully running around Eric, trying to get his attention. But that's not the case now. It's as if the once bright candle of life has gone out in your chest. And this candle smouldered and smouldered more and more before his eyes.

Eric watched you wither with severe pain. He tried to do something about it, give you gifts and cheer you up in every possible way. But you remained the same emotionless, empty. You could sit in a room for a long time and stare blankly at one point without blinking. You were clearly troubled by some thoughts. Eric often caught your gaze thoughtfully directed towards the window.

"Why don't people fly like birds?"

Eric has often noticed strange questions about you. All these words, behavior, pain in your previously warm gaze. His chest was bursting as he watched you die every day.

He tried to do something, but you didn't make contact. He wanted to take you to a specialist, but he didn't know how to gently push you to do it. The guy was afraid to break this fragile rod in your head, which has long been covered with cracks.

It was an ordinary evening, although you were especially quiet that day. Perhaps you had a special stress at school. Eric decided to leave you for a while, hoping to cheer you up if he buys you your favorite sweets and drinks.

The weather was cloudy and nasty. The sun had long since disappeared behind heavy black clouds. It was going to rain soon. The wind beat mercilessly on the half-open windows, the curtains fluttered violently under the cool gusts of air. Late autumn, cold season.

You felt a soothing coolness on your skin. It was a little comforting, but at the same time it instilled uncertainty. Your hands were shaking and your legs were getting wobbly with excitement. Did you want to...? Yes. Maybe. No, definitely definitely yes. You felt so bad, so hurt. It was all too much. It seemed that all the problems of the world fell on your young, fragile, unprepared shoulders at once. And it hit you so hard. Your heart was pounding in your chest. There seemed to be only one way out.

Eric is gone.

Has he decided to leave you? Your brain was no longer thinking soberly at all, generating the craziest thoughts and scenarios in your mind. It's been so hard lately, even though you've seen him watching. He was worried... Although, it's for the best. If he is not around now, it will be easier to do everything here and now.

You slowly went to the bathroom, extinguishing all the light in the room on the way and leaving only a blinking light bulb in the bathroom. Without thinking twice, you filled the tub with cold water.

And so your boyfriend's big shirt flies to the floor, leaving you in a dark T-shirt and thin black jeans. I didn't want to freeze completely, the chilling pain in my chest was already enough. You slowly stepped into the cold water. A burning cold instantly engulfed your body, sobering your thoughts and feelings. The heart accelerated its movement. You slowly sank down, gritting your teeth. The water seeped through your clothes, freezing your body. The damp cloth stuck uncomfortably to the skin. Your arms and legs were instantly covered with large goosebumps.

But there is no turning back.

You've been planning for too long, you've been patient for too long, you've been afraid for too long. Death beckoned to him in its soothing embrace.

You slowly picked up the knife you had prepared in advance with your trembling hand. A new, sharpened blade. Glancing down at your wrist, you nervously bit your lip. You had doubts, but the pain was worse. You dipped your hand into the water, hoping to reduce the coming pain. The blade pricked the skin unpleasantly. A moment later, an unpleasant, blood-curdling pain pierced your arm. It's like your hand was pierced by a sharp piece of ice. The blade entered the tender flesh unpleasantly. The water quickly began to turn a dark crimson color. Along with the vital fluid, the pain also went away.

Incision after incision, and now there is a painful ringing in my ears. You closed your eyes wearily, leaning your head back against the side of the bathroom.

But still, why is all this? Your head was throbbing painfully and your arm was numb, although you could still feel how fast the blood was leaving your body. Whether it was necessary... Maybe death is not the best option? Maybe you could find another way out, along with Eric. Eric would have helped. Eric... What will he think when he finds you like this? He'll probably be happy. At least now there won't be such a burden next to him that you have to take care of every now and then. You'll make his life easier by dying, won't you? But you would so like to see his face for the last time, to remember his smile and the warmth of his eyes.

Your vision blurred when you felt a hot pair of arms around you, gently wrapping around your weak body. Who would have thought that Death was so gentle. At least you'll be at peace now.

***

Eric carefully crossed the threshold of your apartment, not wanting to scare you. Quietly. The house was dark. Have you gone to bed yet? So why did you turn off the light? Eric remembered that you were afraid of the dark when he wasn't around.

The young man slowly took off his shoes when he heard a dull splash. His gaze immediately darted towards the bathroom, noticing the light burning in it.

"Fuck..."

The bag of sweets instantly fell out of his hands as Eric rushed towards the bathroom. His eyes widened in horror, and his chest was cramped with throbbing soreness. He could hear the heart in his ears. The guy instantly rushed to you, grabbing your pale body and pulling it out of the icy red water. The guy hugs you to him with trembling hands, desperately trying to keep you warm.

"Oh god.. No no no, baby.. please stay with me.."

His voice is trembling, and an unpleasant lump rises in his throat. Tears are blurring his vision. Eric reaches into the bathroom cabinets, pulling out some towels and wrapping them around your hand in the hope of stopping the blood. He can't look at that meat instead of your wrist. With trembling hands, he dials the ambulance number, mentally begging to come as soon as possible.

Eric is sitting in the living room, desperately clinging to your cold body and rocking you back and forth in his arms like a baby. His hot lips do not leave your face, kissing here and there. His whole world collapsed. The only sunshine that had been in his life was now slowly fading in his arms. The guy couldn't stop crying, hugging you as tightly as possible, hoping to give you his warmth.

"God, honey... Please wake up.. open those wonderful eyes for me.. I will never leave again, I promise, my rose. I'll be with you. Always.. just wake up, please."

His vision is blurry, it seems that his head was already starting to hurt. But he couldn't afford to sleep, not when your life was slowly trickling down his arms and soaking his clothes. The white towels turned red. It seemed like an eternity before the paramedics arrived. In fact, it was a miserable three minutes.

***

You woke up in the hospital. Your head was throbbing painfully, and you could hear some kind of machine chirping nearby. You slowly opened your eyes, your eyelids seemed leaden. The white light bit painfully into your tired eyes, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Honey.."

Eric's voice was weak and a little hoarse. Finally you opened your eyes, looking up at him. His hair was disheveled, and there were dark bruises under those delicate eyes. He hadn't slept well in a long time.

"How are you feeling, baby?"

You bit your lip nervously, feeling guilty for his condition. Your heart is painfully squeezed.

"..are you mad at me?"

"No! Of course no. Not at all. It's not your fault, my rose. I was inattentive," he moved towards you, hugging you with his strong arms. It was always so cozy and comfortable in his arms. You knew you were safe, "I'm sorry, my rose. I'm sorry I wasn't there. You suffered so much, but I didn't notice. But now everything will be okay, I promise you."

• From that day on, Eric became more attentive to you, in the next couple of weeks he will absolutely not leave you alone for a second. The guy will take care of you in every possible way and give you love.

• He will send you to a psychologist and pay for all the therapy sessions you need.

• As soon as your scars heal, he will gently kiss them, caressing your hands and body. He loves you so much. Eric will do his best to show you how important you are to him, how much he loves and adores you. You are the light of his life.

• He will draw flowers or stars on your scars. Maybe later, if you want and your skin heals completely, he will support your idea to make some kind of cute tattoo on this place.