#1200+ words of pure pain

[shalotttower]

Title: Beneath The Skin Fandom: Far Cry 5 Characters: John Seed x Reader (female) Summary: John discovers a soulmate in one of his faithful after her indoctrination. Word count: 1200+ Notes: soft yandere!John Seed, religious themes, soulmate AU, captivity, obsession, past rough treatment, past torture, brainwashed Reader, John being John, Reader isn't Deputy, I'm depressed so now you'll be too.

You've been staring at him a lot lately. John can't tell if it's a good sign or not. In his experience, silence is usually followed by screaming and begging, not contemplation, but you're quiet and watchful, like a church mouse.

"Tell me what you desire," he says, cupping your face with his palms.

There's no pleading with you. No crying for help from the outside world. He's not used to this quiet acceptance of circumstances.

What John used to is peeling away the layers of flesh, until there's nothing but raw essence underneath. You're still not free of sin. He can see it, plain as day: sloth shines through the cracks of you. He could force it out. Carve the letters into your skin again, one by one, and maybe then you'd finally scream for mercy.

But he doesn't. Joseph told him to be careful with God's gifts, to be patient and endure. So he waits, and so you stare, and the silence stretches in-between.

"Why don't you tell me?" John asks.

He heard long time ago that through desires one's true self becomes visible. He wants to see yours.

"There's nothing to wish for in Eden's Gate, Herald."

There is no venom in your words. There's nothing in your words.

He thinks about patience and endurance, and wonders if the river washed away something essential off you during the baptism, or this docile and meek nature is just who you are.

You'd pass easily as one of Faith's angels, even without the Bliss.

---

John knows that you like to read. You take books from his personal library and he finds them later, stacked in a neat pile on a bedside table. Some nights when he returns to the ranch, you're still awake at the desk with a pair of glasses on the bridge of your nose.

"So that's why," he thought after leafing through your medical file, "you didn't recognize me at the river. They must've fell off during the transportation."

John wears his mark with pride. Not hidden, like Joseph's or Jacob's, but on display. A declaration that he's been chosen by God, that's he's not broken, not ruined — worthy to have a soulmate.

He remembers your expression back then. Confusion. You looked at him, squinting, like you didn't understand, couldn't fathom why would someone do this to you.

And then he dunked you under.

---

"Confession," John murmured. "It sets you free."

"Atonement," he told you later and took a knife to your flesh.

He wanted to make you feel small, insignificant — Deputy kept causing trouble, and temperance never was among his virtues.

"There's nothing more pure than a blank sheet, darling. I'll help you get rid of sin. Don't be afraid, let the pain cleanse you."

And you screamed.

Sloth. Pride. He carved them both and you cried and prayed until your voice broke, but haven't asked him to stop, not once.

After that, you blended into the crowd well, a nobody amongst the sheep not meant to stand out.

---

He didn't know.

Hadn't seen it, caught up in the excitement of the moment.

---

This time when he comes back, you're curled on the bed with a book that doesn't belong to his library. The cover is pale yellow with floral decorations and birds on it, a bit worn. How it came into your hands, John has an idea. There's only one person who likes cheesy romance novels here.

Your foot sways in the air back and forth, gently, like a pendulum.

"Didn't take you for a fan of light reading, my dear. How many maidens have fallen for dashing rascals tonight?"

"Herald John," you greet.

His stomach flips when you look up.

To think that you were one of many who cooked and cleaned around the compound all this time, who lived in the barracks and tended the apple orchards, and no one ever noticed. Who almost slipped through his fingers into the Henbane River, if he wasn't reminded of restraint.

Now you're here, in his room, and John has no idea what to do with you. He's good with words, they always come out naturally, like a weapon in a carefully crafted arsenal, but all seem inadequate when your mark is out there so openly unapologetic.

You're like a doll he's got a hold of: speaks when spoken to and moves when nudged.

He sits on the edge of the bed.

"This doesn't look like approved reading material," John comments idly, but makes no move to take the book away. Books like these aren't banned, simply considered too shallow to nourish a mind. He flipped through one himself and found it hilariously cliche.

"Sister Faith keeps bringing them," you respond. "I...keep them until she picks them up again."

You call his family members by titles rather than names. John suspects it stems from the trials and humility which they bring. Joseph is Father, Faith is Sister, Jacob is...nothing. You don't dare use any monikers with Jacob even though no one would mind now when you're family.

His thumb runs over your ankle. A small white lilly under the fabric of your leggings looks delicate and a bit like a mockery.

God's gifts are bestowed to cherish.

John thinks about the way you trembled during the baptism — sweet, sweet terror.

God's gifts are bestowed to nurture.

"Why didn't you plead with me?"

You pause.

"For what, Herald?"

John wants to shake you. Wants you to scream and glare like Deputy did when he carved the sin upon her body. Little wrathling, full of rage and spite; now Jacob is grooming her as a weapon, and it seems to suit her better than wreaking havoc across the county. Jacob's methods are meticulous and inevitable, brutal but most efficient, and he'll get her where he needs her to be: strong and able, with her fire burning for a better cause.

"Reprieve," John says. "Mercy."

He leans closer and waits, but your eyes travel down to your lap, then to your fingers, entwined together above the pages.

"There was no use."

Your smile is soft and empty, and John gets the feeling of missing a step on a flight of stairs.

"It wouldn't have been enough."

You speak it like a truth carved on stone, something so very evident that even a newborn infant can comprehend. Like the sun is warm, the water is wet, and Herald John Seed doesn't give mercy to sinners — he takes them apart piece by piece so they can start anew without the burden of guilt.

---

Aren't soulmates meant to know each other intimately? Aren't they meant to complete?

Yet there's an absence of him in you and you in him. It's a hollow space between your bodies when you both lie side by side at night, a gaping wound, and it won't go away, no matter how close you curl into his arms or how tight he holds onto you.

He touches you often: strokes your hair while you read books by lamplight, kisses your forehead when you pray before bedtime.

"Tell me what you desire," John asks again.

And again, patiently you reply: "Eden's Gate offers everything I could ever wish for."

---

He wonders what fairy tale romance you will find next week between the pages, and if there will be mercy in it which you didn't find in that bunker.

[sp4ceboo]

Stay With Me: Din Djarin x Reader

A/N: we love us some whump

Warnings: injuries, blood, gore, swearing, angst, a helluva lot of crying, death, needles, idk what else lmfao,

Word count: <1200

Fuck, what had you been thinking?

Din himself had warned you against taking the job. He'd taken the time to explain to you all the ways you could get killed or kidnapped or left to die, and you'd taken it anyway, in hope that the money would get the dodgy engine of your ship fixed.

You should have known, Din is always right about this stuff.

Well, partially right, anyway. You did manage to get the bounty - you also managed to shove him in carbonite, although he's at a slightly awkward angle due to your current predicament. Gritting your teeth, you stumble towards the ladder leading to the cockpit and grab the top rung, heaving yourself up with pure arm strength - thank the Maker for the pull up bar Din helped you install. Your eyes water as the various slashes in your arms stretch open, and warm blood starts soaking into your ragged sleeves. Pulling yourself across the floor, grimacing at the red smear you leave behind you, you barely manage to sit up on your knees and stab the button which sets off the distress beacon. Flicking the switch to send a transmission, you wince and wave, aware of how your face must be smeared in blood.

'Hey, Din,' you stutter through your pain. 'I got the bounty, but I - ' You sway, just catching yourself on the pilot's chair. ' - I think I'm going to die.' Heaving yourself up a little, you lift up the hem of your shirt. 'I'm bleeding out, Din. If I - if I don't get to talk to you again, I - ' You wince as pain stabs through you. ' - I just want you to know, I care about you, a lot, and I'll miss it. Whatever we're calling it, I... I'll miss what we had, just between the two of us.'

Suddenly, black roils at the edges of your vision, and the world spins around you before you topple over, collapsing onto the floor.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Din's heart is pounding in his ears as he squeezes through the small space the ramp has made as it lowers, unwilling to wait for it to open fully. Sprinting across the landing bay, he catches sight of your ship and lengthens his stride, putting on a burst of speed at the memory of your words, forced out through your pain.

I think I'm going to die.

I think I'm going to die. I think I'm going to die. I think I'm -

He skids to a halt outside your ship, frantically typing your encrypted mish mash of letters and numbers into the panel by the ramp. Agonisingly slowly, it begins to hum open, and he reaches up and yanks it down, scrambling into your ship and almost tripping over a crate as he makes his way towards the cockpit, where he knows you'll be. There's drops of blood on the floor by the ladder, deep red dotting the metal, and two crimson handprints on the top rung. Fear shoots through him, cold and paralysing, but he doesn't let it delay him for long, not when your life is at stake.

He bursts into the cockpit.

You're lying on the floor, so still he almost thinks he's too late.

Dropping to his knees beside you, right into a pool of your own blood, he gently flips you over. His breath catches in his throat. Half of your torn tunic is soaked red, and his fingers tremble as he lifts it up, forcing himself to inspect the gaping wound for the sake of saving you. The skin around the edges is ragged, and he assumes it's got to be from some sort of jagged viroblade. Blood is still oozing from your wound, and he immediately applies pressure while he searches his memory for where the medkit is. Terror stabs at his heart; he can't let this happen, can't let you go, not when he could have prevented this by persuading you not to take the job.

'Stay with me,' he whispers, his voice cracking. 'Please. Please, I can't - '

Choking down a sob, almost unable to leave your side to get the medkit, he nearly falls down the ladder as he rips open the cupboard to his left and grabs it with shaking hands. Your name on his lips as he scrambles back up into the cockpit, he rips open the neat box of supplies and grabs the bacta shot, praying that he's not too late, that he can still save you.

Carefully, he steadies his shaking hands and lines the bacta shot up so the entry point will be just under your ribs. Biting back his panic, he pushes down the plunger, watching the bacta empty from the syringe. Once it's all gone, he pulls the needle out and drops it onto the ground beside him, desperately watching you for movement. He knows that he could still be too late - there's a certain period of time after a wound where you can apply a shot, but anything after that... well, you might as well be saying your goodbyes.

And he can't say his goodbyes, not with your sweet voice in his head, saying I'll miss it. Whatever we're calling it, I'll miss what we had, just between the two of us.

Not with your sweet voice saying, I care about you, a lot.

Not with his heart begging for you to live, because he needs to tell you how much he cares.

Needs to tell you he can't lose you.

Needs to tell you he loves you. So, so much.

You cough, weakly, and your eyes flutter open. Unable to make a coherent sound, he grabs you in his arms, cradling you to his chest and barely restraining himself from crushing you close to him. He leans the cold beskar of his helmet on your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut underneath as salty tears drip down his face, shuddering sobs wracking his large frame as he clings onto you, revelling in how warm you are, how alive you are.

'Don't you ever fucking dare do that again,' he growls. 'You should have listened to me, you - you shouldn't have gone, don't ever, ever do that again. You scared me, you fucking scared me so much - '

One of your hands reaches up and presses against the cheek of his helmet. It doesn't matter that there's dried blood on your fingers, doesn't matter at all to Din, because you're alive. So he grabs your fingers and squeezes them, and with his head still buried in your shoulder, he tells you the truth, his voice ragged and broken.

'I love you,' he gasps. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

You close your eyes, one hand fisting in his cowl while you bury your face in his shoulder, engulfing yourself in his scent. 'Din, I'm sorry, I'm so s - sorry - ' You cut yourself off, arms locking around his neck as you stare right into his eyes as if the helmet isn't there. 'I love you too, Din. I love you.'

Din rests his forehead against yours, tears streaking down his cheeks, as he holds you in his arms, thanking the Maker that you're still with him.

[splendidissimus]

August 2001 - Thirst

((Content warning: captivity, bondage, dehydration, neglect, degradation))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober-archive 2023: day 24: Neglect ))

Genre: whump

Romance level: none

Angst level: 4/5

Draco's headspace: focused / philosophical

((words: ~1200))

------------------------------------

Aguamenti. Aguamenti. Aguamenti.

Draco focused on the spell. The sound of it. The shape of it. The feel of it. The feel of the motion of the wand, the feel of the words, the feel of the magic flowing through them both.

He needed water. More than sleep, more than food, more than freedom, he needed water. He didn't know how long he had been locked here — it felt like days, but his sense of time was famously unreliable, particularly when he wasn't sleeping. Maybe it was just a single day that felt like forever. Maybe he had lost so much time it was a week. But he did know he hadn't had anything to drink since Rowle found him. His lips were so dry and cracked they hurt. His head pounded with a slow ache that seized a band around his brow and temples and squeezed. His throat felt swollen almost shut. His mouth was hot and thick and gummy, tongue laying like a dead thing, desperate for relief. 

He would have cast the Cruciatus on someone just for a bit of cold metal. Something. Anything, just to lift this suffering.

Aguamenti. Aguamenti. Aguamenti.

He didn't have his wand, obviously… This wasn't a spell he had ever cast wandlessly, that he could remember. His mind wasn't good for remembering much right now, but he thought he would remember that cool, beautiful fountain of clear water. Even if he had, though, this wasn't the type of situation he could perform wandless magic in. Wandless magic required pure, crystalline focus, a diamond of willpower and clarity to channel the spell through. To hold the details of the spell, the shape of it, to perfectly replicate the pathways of the motion of the wand without actually performing them, a feat of visualisation and intention that could carve it out of the empty air.

Pain, fear, cold... thirst… those did not lend themselves to focus and clarity of thought. Even his desperation for water didn't help, it hindered. You couldn't just want something for magic to happen. There was more to it than that. His need for water, his preoccupation with water, they got in the way of getting the water. He could perfectly envision a tall, clear glass of pristine water, with beads of condensation on the outside teetering on the brink of falling, just on the edge of gravity's authority. He could hear the sound of a fountain if he but wished to, the bubbling gurgle and spray of fine mist that would fall out into the garden with the slightest breeze. A windowpane holding back the rain, racing drops against each other as they carved channels down the cold glass.

But those were fantasies. Those weren't magic. Those weren't the shape and form and feel and intention of the spell. They could not make water exist just by wanting it to. 

And more mundanely, but more pressing, perhaps… even when he cast magic without his wand, he still used his hands. Sometimes echoing the motion of the wand, or a shorthand of it, or else a motion that encapsulated the intention of the spell. Think Accio and reach, it came naturally. At the least, a focus and channel for his magic. He had seen Dumbledore and Snape do wandless magic, and even they, most often, still did it with their hands. And now his hands were bound behind him. 

Everything he knew said he couldn't cast the spell. The only thing that said otherwise was that he needed to.

Aguamenti. He focused not on the spell but on Occlumency techniques, compartmentalisation, taking hold of the distractions of fantasies and pain and dread and trying to put them away, out of his reach. To clear his mind so there was space for the spell, to narrow his focus so there was nothing else. 

Aguamenti. Remember, analyse, feel the shape of it. Not the word, but the way the power filled the word, poured into it and spread out to fill every sound and syllable, was contained and shaped by its borders. Not the motion of the wand, but the way it felt to move it, the flow of his arm and the power channelled by his stance into a single dancing point. The result, not the water, a mere byproduct, but the way willpower was converted from the abstract into the physical at that point, the point where magic was transmuted into creation. Assemble it all into one perfect form.

Aguamenti. 

He could feel it when it happened, willpower becoming magic becoming water, and the water itself was almost secondary to that sense of wholeness. The conjured water sprang from the centre of his palm, lacking a wand for it to emanate from as he did. It was cold and quick, soaking the seat of his pants and pooling around his bare feet. He made a strangled sobbing noise and bent over his knees, breath hitching; he might have cried if he had the tears for it.

He twisted his hands, bending desperately however he could to get his face to the water, but he could in no way get them in front of him. The water splashed uselessly against his back or down his leg, but did not come anywhere near his parched mouth. He had cast it, against all odds he had made water, it was right there, but he still couldn't have it… It would only taunt him to madness or death.

If he could catch the water… In the darkness, he had no way of checking, but what he knew said there was nothing to act as a container, and even if there were some broken bowl or dusty dish in a corner, he had no way of finding it. 

This was all that there was. The water pouring from his hand and pooling in the dirt at his feet, soaking into the dusty earthen floor of the cellar. 

He bowed his head, eyes squeezed tightly closed and chest burning with crawling shame. 

He let the water flow for as long as he could stand it, the musical splashes torture against his need, and when he was going to lose his mind or die, he clenched his hand closed and cut off the spell, his only lifeline to water which he may never be able to cast again, and shuffled over on his knees. His aching legs awoke in pain and pins and needles for the affront, and he hissed as they cramped up, but forced himself to move awkwardly anyway, before the water was gone.

He bent over and set his face cautiously to the mud, feeling around until he found a tiny puddle of water pooled in a trench dug by his foot at some point, not yet quite absorbed by the thirsty earth. And he set his lips to it, and he drank, cautiously at first and then greedily, spitting aside grit and filth and then going back for more, until it was gone.

[yugonoashiato]

Footprints #1200 - Sunburn

August 5th Sunny ☀️

#yugo'sfootprints

#sunburn

Good morning♪

This is Yugo Kochi, who has missed his predicted time to wake up this morning.

I missed 37 minutes 😆.

It was pretty bad 🙅🏻‍♂️ (laughs)

Next,

By the way...

I've been on location for the last few days and I'm pretty burned (T. T).

Even though the make-up artist used a lot of sunscreen... I'm still getting burnt...

The sun was really bright and it was painful 😭

Aaaaa it was hard ( ; ; )

Even though I've tried my best to be aware of it (the sunburn) this year... (T . T)

How about you guys? Are you okay (with the sunburn)?

It's so frustrating...

Finally...

Thank you for all your hard work and schoolwork today.

The sun's rays are really strong, but looking at the weather forecast, I think it's going to start raining next week??

I'm in trouble... ( ; ; )

I want it to be sunny, but water is important too 💦

It's complicated...

Well, rain is important too, right?

Yup.

Don't forget to wash your hands, gargle and stay hydrated!

I'm grateful every day.

A thought just occurred to me!

Since I'm already sunburned, should I still apply sunscreen? 😆

I dunno.

See you tomorrow.

Keep smiling ☺️

(Koshi photographed a cloudy sky with sunbeams and rows of trees. The captions are: "This sunshine got me, man ^_^" and "Beautiful ♡")

E/N: My dear Yugo, the first thing you need to do after a sunburn is to bring your skin temperature down by taking a cool shower, then moisturise and use pure Aloe Vera. After that, you need to apply sunscreen to prevent the next sunburn.

Did you know that the sun gives off two different types of rays, UVA rays (the damaging and cancer-causing kind) and UVB rays (the sunburn-causing kind)? That is why you need to wear sunscreen even indoors! Especially if you're near windows/sunlight at all. Windows block most of the UVB rays that can cause burns, redness and possibly cancer, but they don't block UVA rays as well. Wearing sunscreen indoors also helps prevent the inflammatory response caused by blue light from your mobile phone and computer screen.

In short, you need to wear sunscreen every day, everywhere (outdoors and indoors). Just make sure the formula you're using has three key things in it: SPF of at least 30, the words "broad spectrum" and mineral-based.

Good luck!

[exalteye]

16: a memory that makes them angry

A WINDOW TO THE PAST / TW: TORTURE, VIOLENCE

Some tenth birthday. A bloody hand pressed against the open wound on her neck, the other held tight to Falchion, freshly christened in her reign. Hissing in pain, Lucina gathered her rage–staring down at the broken body of a man she thought she could trust. He’d been by her side for these three long years–only to leave her stranded on Carrion Isle, neck deep in enemy territory.

Stranded. With Grimleal no doubt waiting nearby for her delivery, and an entourage ready to receive her in Chong’sin. She stared blankly at the sword in her hand, removing her hand from her neck to tear a large strip from the hem of her tunic, wrapping it gently. Don’t lose hope. She’d follow her father’s legacy–defeat Grima, restore peace to the land….

The blood loss was beginning to make her dizzy, she was far less alert than usual and the Grimleal were nearly on top of her by the time she recognized their arrival. With a strangled yell, she thrust the holy sword through the witch’s solar plexus, yanking it free to use the momentum to sloppily slash at an approaching mage.

A scream of pain tore from her throat as the Falchion clattered against the packed earth, her arm bubbling with the effects of the Mire spell that had hit her. Lunging for her weapon, Lucina had only just wrapped her right hand around the pommel when her body seized with a terrible energy as lightning coursed through her veins. 

And so she fell, face-down in the dirt–stained in tears and blood, praying that this wasn’t where hope was lost as the young exalt was roughly carted to the Plegian warship and tossed uncerimoniously in the brig, weighed down by iron chains. Lucina found in the three days it took to reach the Plegian ports just how badly magic could hurt.

Her voice had long since run hoarse, her tears gone dry. For all she knew, her sword was left to rust on the foul soil of Carrion Isle while she was forced to trudge blindfolded behind a horse for what felt like an eternity. Lucina could only count the small miracles–they’d properly wrapped the wound on her neck and forced some foul-tasting concotion down her throat that seemed to make some of the pain recede. They clearly wanted her alive–though Lucina had yet to determine if that was a good thing.

And each night, as they traveled further inland, Lucina would whisper her prayers to Naga–and each day as she stumbled along, struggling not to fall face-first, they would remain unanswered. No one was coming to save her. For all they knew she was still on a ship headed to Valm, a journey that wouldn’t have her reach her destination for another two moon cycles.

How long had it even been? The days began to blur together until the vast plains of enemy territory changed to the stifling heat of the desert, the damp stone of a dungeon. All she knew was she was alive, she was breathing—hope would live on within her. Even as she coughed blood onto the floor from another thoron spell, or the strange liquids they forced down her throat–even as her skin boiled and bubbled from the fire–she refused to bow, to lose hope. They would never break her. Not as they cursed her, stabbed her, shackled her in a room with monsters wearing the faces of the people she loved. 

The months wore on, Lucina beginning to wither away with them. Her skin now ghostly pale, her scalp burned and hair shorn, nearly every inch of her seemed to always ache–and the Grimleal were never merciful enough to heal her more than what was needed to keep her alive, painfully scraping away infection from her raw wrists and ankles, dousing her in a weak vulnerary. In her worst moments, she’d pray for death. To see her father again–and not in the hallucinations that plagued her (though she didn’t know if it was insanity creeping in or one of the drugs forced down her throat on the daily). 

Hell was never ending. The four walls of her cage felt like all she’d ever known–the only thing she’d ever see again. Her tears had long since dried, there was nothing left to spare on them. Never lose hope. But it was so tempting. To submit to her body, to the ever-growing voice in her head that no one was coming. For all she knew, the war had been lost five times over–and her friends were nothing more than the ghosts she saw in her head. 

At least they’d be spared that way, kept from pain and harm–safe in the arms of Naga. That was a kind of hope, wasn’t it? But Lucina could feel her heart stutter. It was merely resignation. And how she wished to join the ranks of the dead, to be free from the endless pain and torture that left her at her breaking point. They were going to win. Her battered body would be paraded down the streets of Ylisstol (long live the exalt!), extinguishing the last of the hope from this world.

Never lose hope. Why? Who had said that? What was the point? Blue eyes were glazed as she stared into the middle distance, leaning into a hand that wasn’t there. Father. That’s right–her father had told her that. Her father had believed the best in her, and she betrayed him by wishing to be by his side again. Her pain….her pain was nothing compared to that of her people, the suffering inflicted upon them all by the forces of sheer evil.

For the first time in ages, a spark of emotion grew bright in Lucina’s chest–sheer rage at what they’d reduced her to, at what she’d been subjected to. Every burning wound fueled her as she found herself again, found the hope she had nearly lost grasp of. 

How many moons had passed? Jolted from a daze by shouting–the gut-wrenching sound of metal on metal, screams that reached even her cell buried deep within the earth, hope bubbled up in her throat, a hoarse cry of relief. Lucina wondered when she’d forgotten she was capable of more than screams. But it wasn’t her saviors who came bursting into the molding dungeon, but mages with panic on their faces–and a vial of noxious liquid ready to be forced down her throat.

She fought back. Strength had long since left her, leaving her hardly more than bones wrapped in skin–but Lucina refused to let it end here, not when freedom was so close. Even as the first shock of the poison against her face made her want to scream, to fall and writhe in pain as it dripped down her neck, leaving bright red skin in its track; even as two Grimleal pinned her to the ground, forcing her mouth wide–even as a tear slipped from her eye for the first time in a year.

Lucina was sure she must have died, her insides boiled away from whatever was held within the vial. But surely death wouldn’t be so painful. Her body refused to move as she wanted it to and her eyes snapped open in panic–only to be greeted by the long-forgotten sight of canvas stretching above her. A tent. A medical tent.

She was free.

It was finally over.

Covered in bandages though she was, Lucina laughed–a sound she never thought she’d make again. “Thank you,” she whispered, hoarse and broken. Her prayers had been answered, at long last.

[ro-is-struggling]

Masterlist

Here’s a list with all my works. 

Here are the request rules and this is the list of characters I write for

Last updated: 05/11/24

English is not my first language!

600 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

Marvel

~Bucky Barnes

NIGHTMARES 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky is a free man. Free from Hydra and all that they put inside his mind. But that doesn’t mean he’s free from the past. It haunts him in his sleep and everytime he closes his eyes. Luckily he found someone who’s willing to put up with him.

Word count: 4600

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, insecurity, trauma and ptsd, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, angst. Bucky doesn’t think he’s worthy of love. Reader has mental powers. Starts out kinda sad but it ends up being really cute and fluffy in my opinion.

INCOMPLETE

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When your relationship started to have problems you and Bucky agreed that the best thing to do would be to break up. At the time it had sounded like the only option you had left. But now, several months later, Bucky was beginning to wonder if he had done the right thing because the pain in his heart and the emptiness in his chest only seemed to grow with each passing day.

Word count: 2600+

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), one kinda intense kiss scene, fluff

TENSION

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky has been acting distant and you can’t help but think it’s your fault.

Word count: 1700

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), Bucky is a little harsh on reader, mentions of past trauma (reader’s parents had a shitty toxic relationship)

ENEMIES

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky don’t get along. He hates you from the moment he found out you used to work for Hydra and has no problem showing it. Until one day after an accident on a mission he discovers the truth about your past and realizes that you two aren’t so different after all.

Word count: 5000

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, enemies to friends, Bucky and Steve are mean to the reader, mentions of past trauma (the reader was experimented on and tortured by Hydra kinda like Bucky), reader has powers that allow her to transfer people’s wounds on her own body and heal them using her own vital force, fluff (Bucky it’s a sweetheart in the end)

JEALOUSY

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: An undercover mission in Madripoor of all places leads to rivalry, jealousy and unexpected confessions of love.

Word count: 6700

Warnings: takes place on the events of episode 3 o tfatws, mutual pining, jealousy, Zemo being a little shit, brief mention of reader’s backstory (she worked for a thief and smuggler named Fiona before joining the avengers), reader fake-flirts with Zemo, Bucky and the reader fight and it ends in light smut (just some kisses and over the clothes stuff), fluff

BETWEEN US

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Fem!Reader

Summary: Zemo contacts you after escaping from prison because he wants you to help him stop the Power Broker. You thought he was crazy for thinking you would be willing to join him, but when he brought up the fact that it was a dangerous mission you had no choice but to accept his offer. You hated Zemo, but you weren’t willing to lose Bucky. He was the last family you had left.

Word count: 9400

Warnings: established relationship (Bucky and reader are married), angst, reader lies to Bucky, Zemo being a little shit and getting in everybody’s heads, Bucky’s insecurities, ends in fluff. Also reader is Steve’s younger sister and a super soldier

DANCE WITH SOMEBODY

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky dances with you for the first time in 70 years

Word count: 1200

Warnings: pure fluff, mentions of the reader having some kind of healing power, set somewhere after caws so bucky is in control of his body but is having trouble remembering his past

UNDERCOVER TRILOGY MASTERLIST

Summary: Your first mission with the Avengers proves to be more difficult than you expected when you discover you have to go undercover with none other than Bucky Barnes. Spending so much time together posing as an engaged couple leads to the development of feelings that you fear will change your relationship forever.

Series Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, fake dating, forced proximity (only one bed trope), mentions of the reader being insecure about her body, probably overuse of pet names (doll). Smut, praise kink, body worship, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, aftercare

ROAD TRIP

Pairings: platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader, platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: you annoy the shit out of Steve, Sam and Bucky—especially Bucky—during a long road trip.

Word count: 3400

Warnings: crack fic, humor, sharing beds, kinda fluffy

LOSE MYSELF

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky can’t help but fall in love with his new neighbor even though every fiber of his beings tells him to stay away from her.

Word count: 4200

Warnings: song fic, fem reader, written from Bucky’s point of view, angst, mentions of insecurities and trauma (from Bucky’s side), mutual pining kinda, Bucky being a total simp for the reader, fluff

NEW LOVE

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, past Matt Murdock x Female Reader

Summary: after a long day at work all you want to do is curl up on the couch with Bucky and forget about the existence of the outside world. But things get complicated when the past catches up with you, knocking on your door and asking for your help.

Word count: 6600

Warnigs: mentions of the reader being a nurse, jealousy, talks of insecurities, mentions of blood, reader being afraid to love again, angst with a happy ending

BEING HOMESICK AND WATCHING THE WORLD CUP WITH THE AVENGERS HEADCANONS

Pairings: platonical Avengers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky senses that something is wrong with you but you don’t seem ready to talk about it. After watching you closely for a while he discovers that your sadness comes from missing your home country and decides to do something to cheer you up. One day you mention to him how excited you are about the World Cup and that gives Bucky the idea of throwing you a surprise party to watch the last game of the event together. In the midst of the tensions of the game, emotions surface and your feelings for Bucky are exposed in the most unexpected way.

Word count: 6600 total, 3700 (part 1) 2900 (part 2)

UNTITLED SHY!BUCKY X READER

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: lately I can’t stop thinking about Bucky being shy around a girl he likes. The idea of such a tall, strong, imposing man turning into a nervous mess who can’t even look you in the eye drives me crazy. It’s the duality of the toughness of his exterior contrasting against the softness and tenderness of his interior that leaves me screaming, crying and throwing up. So I’m gonna write about it!

Word count: 2400 (This was supposed to be a drabble… ooops)

Warnings: a little angsty but with happy ending

TOUCH

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky was not a fan of physical contact, that was something you knew about him even before you started dating him. What you didn’t know was how incredibly touch starved he was. That is until one lazy Sunday afternoon, when you take your relationship to the next level.

Word count: 4300

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with feelings, dry humping, overstimulation, kinda sub!bucky x gentle dom!reader, touch starved bucky, a little angst (it’s bucky duh), fluff

BREAKFAST IS SERVED

Pairing: Stucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky decides to have you for breakfast. When Steve interrupts you, he asks him to join in and the both of them feast on you  {Part 2 of Let Me Help}

Word count: 7800

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, Porn without plot (like there’s literally no plot, just filth), dom!Bucky (trust me, it’s a warning), fingering, edging, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/name calling (slut), cum play kinda, praise kink, overstimulation, threesome, fluff at the end. No real Stucky action, just them having their fun with the reader ;) (although Bucky kinda fucks them both in a way👀)

SELF CARE

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (it can pass as gender neutral I think?)

Summary: Bucky always seemed interested in your skin care routine, so when one day he arrives tired and drained from a mission, you take the opportunity to show him the importance and benefits of self-care.

Word count: 2200

Warnings: established relationship, brief mention to Bucky’s past trauma, a fuck ton of fluff, my little knowledge of skin care lol

DARK SIDE OF ME

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Summary: The plan you and your friends had come up with to celebrate your 21st birthday was simple: go to as many bars as you could in one night and stay out of the hospital. You weren’t a big fan of it, but everyone had done it and now it was your turn. However, things went off the rails quickly and you ended up being dragged to Heroes, a superhero-themed strip club. You thought it was a bad idea, until you met the cold, piercing blue eyes of the Winter Soldier and simply couldn’t look away.

Or the one when reader gets her first lap dance

Word count: 4400

Warnings: stripper AU, stripper!bucky x innocent!reader, suggestive tones, lap dance (I tried really hard), no actual smut, alcohol consumption, reader giving in to peer pressure, fem reader

~Matt Murdock

GIVE ME LOVE

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You and Matt have a complicated relationship. You swore you would never see him again. But you were weak and one night, fueled by alcohol, you decided to call him.

Word count: 1400

Warnings: light/implied smut (there’s some kissing and touching but nothing too heavy) so I’ll ask minors to not interact with this

YOU RUINED ME

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female Reader

Summary: on a cold rainy night Y/N accidentally ends up standing in front of her ex-boyfriend’s house and remembers with sadness the last time she walked through those doors.

Word count: 3800

Warnings: fem reader, emotional infidelity (Matt is still in love with Elektra), breakup, unrequired love (the reader is still in love with Matt, but he has feelings for Elektra). It’s pure sadness with no happy ending

~Peter Parker

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD SPIDER-MAN

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Female Reader

Summary: Spider-Man was doing his night patrol when he heard the sobs of a lonely woman sitting on the sidewalk under the rain. He went over to help her, unaware that by doing so he was also helping himself.

Or the one where two lonely souls find comfort in each other.

Word count: 17000 (okay, hear me out! the story is split into parts so you can close it and come back later and you won’t miss anything)

Warnings: this is inspired by some of Peter 3 lines in No Way Home (about how he stopped pulling his punches) so there’s a lot of sadness over Gwen’s death, hurt/comfort, Peter being a flirty bastard, the reader doesn’t know Spider-Man’s identity for the most part, mentions of blood and injuries, Peter being scared of feelings, the reader getting attacked in the streets (but it’s very quick and nothing happens)

ANXIETY

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader (I wrote this with Andrew’s Peter Parker in mind because I’m in my Andrew Garfield era but you can imagine the other Spideys if you want, it’s not too specific)

Summary: Peter comforts you after you had a bad day.

Word count: 1200

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and insecurities (nothing too graphic), Peter being a loving supportive boyfriend. I think that’s all but if I missed anything let me know!

OCEAN EYES

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader.

Summary: Peter is captivated by your blue eyes.

Word count: 1200

Warnings: reader has blue eyes, fluff

~Steve Rogers 

WOMAN LIKE ME

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: You had the biggest crush on Steve, but you thought you were too different to work as a couple. Although that didn’t mean you couldn’t have a little fun with him.

Or the one where Steve is shy and you love to tease him.

Word count: 3000

Warnings: shy!steve (he’s so adorable omg), mutual pining, fluff but like a lot of it

ROAD TRIP

Pairings: platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader, platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: you annoy the shit out of Steve, Sam and Bucky—especially Bucky—during a long road trip.

Word count: 3400

Warnings: crack fic, humor, sharing beds, kinda fluffy

NASTY NAUGHTY BOY

Pairing: Shy!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Summary: An undercover mission puts you and Steve in a compromising position that will change your relationship forever.

Word count: 11300

Warnings: Set somewhere after Avengers 1. Shy!Steve, mutual pining, SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little plot (not really), dom/sub dynamics (kinda), dom!reader, sub!steve, oral sex (female receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, hair pulling, pet names (baby, bad/good boy)

LET ME HELP

Pairing: Pre-Serum!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word count:  2900

Warnings:  Set in the 40s (just cause I imagined this with pre-serum steve), SMUT MINORS DNI, inexperienced!steve x softdom!reader, somnophilia kinda so dubcon maybe? (Steve is asleep and the reader rubs against him), handjob, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good boy), there’s literally no plot just smut ;)

BREAKFAST IS SERVED

Pairing: Stucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky decides to have you for breakfast. When Steve interrupts you, he asks him to join in and the both of them feast on you {Part 2 of Let Me Help}

Word count: 7800

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, Porn without plot (like there’s literally no plot, just filth), dom!Bucky (trust me, it’s a warning), fingering, edging, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/name calling (slut), cum play kinda, praise kink, overstimulation, threesome, fluff at the end. No real Stucky action, just them having their fun with the reader ;) (although Bucky kinda fucks them both in a way👀)

~Stephen Strange

EXISTENTIAL CRISIS

Pairing: Platonic!Stephen Strange x gn!Reader

Summary: After Wong sent you and Stephen to investigate the multiverse you begin to worry about the idea that there are thousands of versions of you. Unluckily for Stephen, he is the one who has to endure your existential crisis.

Word count: 1700

Warnings: this is kind of a crack fic so humor, Stephen being annoyed by the reader, chaotic and dumb gn!reader (I think I didn’t use any pronouns or anything like that but if I did let me know so I can change that!), a supernatural reference (if you get it you get a virtual cookie)

DCU

~Clark Kent

IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: You’re terrified that your boyfriend Clark —the local superhero and most perfect man on the planet— will see you sick, so you forbid him to visit you while you have a cold. However, when he shows up at your door saying he misses you, he proves that your insecurities were unwarranted.

Word count: 2200

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader being a little insecure, hurt/comfort kinda

BREAKFAST IN BED

Pairing: Clark Kent x Female Reader

Summary: Being married to a superhero was bound to have some tough times, you knew that well when you accepted Clark’s marriage proposal. However, the last few months were becoming too difficult for you as he was having trouble balancing his daily life and his responsibilities as Superman. Intentional or not, he was neglecting you and you were getting tired of waking up alone every morning. But just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Clark surprises you with breakfast in bed and a talk that reminds you why you love him so much.

Word count: 1800

Warnings: a little angst, but mostly fluff

Harry Potter

~James Potter

HAPPILY

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by people’s negative opinions, you begin to think that your relationship with James has no future. However, when you try to break up with him, James reminds you what really matters: your love and happiness.

Word count: 1700

Warnings: a little angst, reader feeling unsure about her relationship with James, mentions of the marauders being not so great to reader (but nothing too bad). It’s mostly fluff (like really fluffy, James is a sweetheart in this)

OOPS

Pairing: James Potter x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve had a crush on James since the first time you saw him but never said anything for fear of being rejected. Until one day you accidentally overheard a conversation between the marauders that changed everything.

Word count: 2700

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, James is kinda shy on this one, reader has a flirty personality or at least I tried to make her be that way,

DATING JAMES POTTER HEADCANONS 

Pariring: James Potter x Female Reader

Summary: a little look into your relationship with James

Word count: 1100

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

JUST TO BE CLOSE TO YOU

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: You tend to James’ wounds after a particularly difficult Quidditch match.

Word count: 1100

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, intense kisses, implied smut. Also I described james’ eyes color as blue because in my head he’s Aaron Taylor-Johnson

~Remus Lupin

ALWAYS

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Female Reader {marauders era}

Summary:  After discovering that he is in love with his best friend, Remus does what he does best: run away. Blinded by fear of rejection for his condition, he decides it’s best to push Y/N away before she can hurt him. It’s what he’s done all his life to protect himself from people’s judgment. But after seeing the pain and confusion in the young girl’s eyes Remus begins to wonder if it was really a good idea.

Word count: 5000

Warnings: mentions to insecurities, Remus is afraid of the reader’s reaction to his lycanthropy so he pushes her away and is kinda mean at one pont, angst, hurt/comort, fluff

Stranger Things

~Billy Hargrove

BILLY X DRAMA QUEEN!READER HEADCANONS

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Drama queen!reader

~Eddie Munson

HAIRCUT

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Bored with your looks, you made the impulsive decision to cut your hair yourself in your bathroom at home. When the job is done you’re not so sure you like the end result. But lucky for you, Eddie is there to assure you that you look beautiful.

Word count: 790

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff

~Steve Harrington

STAY

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Summary:  After discovering the truth about the Upside Down, Y/N Henderson joins his little brother in the final battle to close the portal and save Hawkins. In doing so, she finds herself teaming up with none other than Steve Harrington of all people and discovers a side of him she didn’t know he had. In the chaos of the battle he brings her comfort and makes her feel safe. That’s why when everything ends she doesn’t want to leave his side. So she does what everyone would do in her situation: invite him to spend the night at her place even though they are not friends.

Word count:  4700

Warnings:  nothing I think, it’s just fluff, like really really fluffy. Steve is a sweetheart and comforts Y/N when she’s scared after everything she went through. They share a bed, do I need to say more?

THROUGH THE DARK

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Summary: Steve gets attacked by Vecna but your voice guides him through the dark.

Word count: 2300

Warnings: SEASON 4 SPOILERS, angst, hurt/comfort, my take on Steve fears/insecurities, fluff

The 100

~Bellamy Blake

JUST FRIENDS

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Female Reader

Summary: Trapped in space, alone and heartbroken, Bellamy and Y/N find solace in each other. As time passes, feelings begin to flutter between them. The only problem is that everyone seems to notice but them.

Word count: 4000

Warnings: set sometime between season 4 and season 5 (yk when Bellamy and the rest are on space), friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, fluff so much fluff, a little angst (Bellamy and the reader miss their friends on earth)

The Witcher

~Geralt of Rivia

THE PRINCESS AND THE WOLF Part 1

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her

Word count: 5000

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds)

THE PRINCESS AND THE WOLF Part 2

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female Reader

Summary: All she wanted was to show Geralt that she could be part of his world, that it was worth putting in the effort to build a future together. He was her true home, the person she belonged to, the one who gave her life purpose, and all she wanted was to share the rest of her life with him. But things were not so simple and the differences that separated them were far too many.

Word count: 15.500

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff, a bit of jealousy and sexual tension, banter, mentions of blood and canon typical violence, angst at the end, my poor knowledge of the saga probably

SECRET ENCOUNTERS

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female Reader

Summary: They know it’s wrong, but they can’t deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Word count: 3900

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

THE BALLAD OF ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Nymph!Reader

Summary: Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy… Until they weren’t and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her. Sad and heartbroken, she was unable to defend herself when the men came for her. Now locked up far away from her forest, she only hoped that her loved protector would come to her rescue.

Word count: 12.700 (it’s a long one)

Warnings: angst (with happy ending), major character death, reader gets imprisoned by a evil dude (I don’t know how to tag this lol but I think it’s important to mention that she’s forced to serve him), fluff (it’s not all sad, I promise), forest nymph!reader

THE CHASE

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female!Reader

Summary: Geralt always tried to keep the wolf inside him caged in order to control his animalistic impulses, but with you that didn’t seem to be required at all

Word count: 3300

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI! Porn without plot, public sex (technically since they’re in the woods), rough sex, penetrative sex, fear play? (not really, but Geralt does chase the reader through the woods so maybe? adding it just in case!), scent play, size kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, biting (like there’s so much it’s a warning in this fic), fingering, possessiveness, a little fluff at the end, fem!reader

SAFER IN HIS ARMS

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Female!Reader

Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that’s what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined.

Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff

Criminal Minds

~Spencer Reid

SLOW HANDS

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer gets tired of pretending he doesn’t notice the way you look at his hands, so when you show up at his hotel room late at night he decides to ask you about it.

Word count: 6800

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, hand kink, size kink kinda?, praise kink, Dom/sub dynamics (gentle dom Spencer x sub reader), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby, dirty little girl, slut), fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, choking, slight dacryphilia, a little fluff at the end, female reader, kinda rushed ending

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: The three times you and Spencer managed to keep your relationship a secret and the one time you got caught.

Word count: 11700

Warnings: Garcia!Reader (but the reader’s race/ethnicity is not specified, she could be adopted idk), mutual pining, love confessions, reader being a little insecure at one point, suggestive tones, implied smut, possible 14x01 spoilers, canon typical violence, angst with happy ending, fluff

EARN IT

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: While Spencer was away on a case, you had no better idea than to send him spicy pictures of yourself as a way to encourage him to work harder to get home fast. You ignored his warnings and orders to stop and now that he was back home it was time to face the consequences of acting like a spoiled brat.

Word count: 3300

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, established relationship, dom!spencer, sexting, masturbation, bondage, dirty talk, cum eating, deprivation of touch used as punishment (if that makes sense? idk it’s just porn)

[devils-dares]

Gone

summary: matt's worst fear has come true. you've been kidnapped as leverage. can he get to you in time?

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: not for the faint of heart, kidnapping, torture, matt losing his mind, daredevil beating the baddies up, knives, blood, death (you die), THIS IS PURE ANGST AND NOTHING ELSE

word count: 1200+

A/N: i'm sad rn, be sad with me :)

---

Focus, Matt. You know her so well. Focus.

His phone lay shattered on the ground, having bounced off the wall before laying in its resting place. Chairs were overturned and dishes broken, he’d have thought he’d been burgled had he not heard the frantic voice over the speaker just a few minutes prior.

-----

“I miss you, Matthew. Come home already.” You whined through the phone.

Chuckling, he says, “I’m almost done here, bug. I’ll be home and I’ll have you in my arms in no time. Promise.”

“Okay, my big shot lawyer man. Mm, what do you want for dinner? I’m thinking Th-”

“Bug?”

Your voice is muffled and far away.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! Just take whatever you want!”

A man’s voice comes on the phone, he sounds gruff and mean, the exact type of men Matt fought to keep away from you.

“We’ve got her now, Daredevil. Come and get her.”

The line clicks off and Matt runs out of the office, straight to you.

-----

Perched on the rooftop of his apartment, he tilts his head, trying to hear your voice, smell your perfume, anything to lead him to you. Either Hell’s Kitchen is especially loud tonight, or his senses are going haywire trying to find the one good thing in his life. The sound of a creaky gate and tape being ripped off of skin take precedence. Finally, your voice breaks the monotone buzzing in his mind. Screaming, a woosh, a squelching sound.

They’re hurting her. Hurting her to get to me. Matt thinks as his mind is running a mile a minute, trying to make any sense of this scenario.

Flipping over rooftops, sprinting across open spaces, he’s just praying he can get there in time. He must’ve been distracted thinking about you, because even when his foot catches on an edge and he thuds on his knees, he doesn’t even feel the pain. He gets to the location, hearing muffled voices coming from… under him?

“I promise I know nothing!” You cry, another punch landing itself on your jaw.

“Stop lying to us, Princess. Tell us who he is, we’ve seen you with him.” A thug with an accent you can’t quite place tells you. Of course you knew who Daredevil was, but they didn’t know you’d die before even thinking of giving up Matt’s identity.

“Even if I did know, what makes you think I’ll tell you?” You retort, spitting out blood at the man’s feet.

He readies his hand to deliver another blow to your already broken body when he hears gunshots from upstairs. His men are screaming, and a body is thrown against the door of the room you’re in.

“Seems like you’re a little too late, sunshine.” You grin, blood leaking from your mouth. The gunshots stop, and the door caves in with one strong kick delivered to the middle.

“Get away from her!” His voice booms.

He throws a billy club at someone and takes another down with ease. He’s not holding any punches, not when it comes to you. Stomping towards you, he pushes another man straight into the wall, his head gushing with blood after a sickening crack sound from the impact. Finally, finally he gets his hand on the thug in charge.

“Why did you hurt her?” His voice, you’ve never heard his voice so angry, yet so full of fear.

“We knew she was close to the Devil, how close? We couldn’t know until we snatched her. Pretty damn close, I’d say.” He cackles, his rotting, yellowing teeth on display. Hard punch after hard punch is thrown at the thug.

“Who sent you?” This isn’t Matt asking, this is Daredevil. The gravelly voice booms around the room, and suddenly you realize how Matt injects fear in so many men.

“Your friend, Fisk. Said he wants to see you burn!” Matt’s clenching his fist for another punch, but a shriek cry breaks his concentration.

“Daredevil!” You scream.

Why is there a second heartbeat next to you? Why didn’t he notice it? Quickly, he drops the man, face now beaten beyond recognition, and turns to you.

“Let her go.” He says, but the strong voice does nothing to mask the terror running through his veins.

“Please. Please, I don’t want to die! Please.” He hears the scrape of metal against leather as the last man brandishes a knife and places the tip of the blade right against your chest.

“Come any closer, Devil Boy, and I’m afraid I’ll have to end her.” Matt bares his teeth.

“You wouldn’t dare, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“See, you’d think I’d be quaking where I stand, but that’s just not your MO. Actually, now that I think about it, we only snatched you to bring him here, you’ve served your purpose sweetheart.”

“No!” But Matt’s too late, the squelch of the blade finding its new home in your heart is barely heard over his scream. He yells as he charges at the man, tackling him and beating him senselessly. Blow after blow lands, but all the thug does is laugh. He laughs and laughs and it sickens Matt to his core.

He’s still swinging at the man’s limp, almost lifeless body when he hears her. A weak name escapes her innocent lips.

“Matty.” Matt reaches you just as you cough up the first drops of blood.

“Honey, we can fix this! C’mon Bug, there’s cop cars up top, they can rush you to the hospital, you’re going to be fine!” But his voice cracks.

You reach up with weak arms and slowly lift his cowl off of his face, wiping his tears away and then grabbing a gloved hand with one of your own bloodstained ones.

“Please. Please don’t let the last thing you say to me be a lie.” You say, and Matt almost chokes out a sob when he hears the thump-thump of your heart grow weaker and weaker by the second. He takes a shaky breath, preparing his last words for you.

“I love you more than anything, more than anyone I’ve ever loved in my life.”

Your grip on his hand fades. The thump-thump grows weaker until it’s gone. You’re gone. You’re gone and Matt’s failed you.

The police come down the steps and into the room, in which they find Daredevil clutching your lifeless body and wailing. His back is turned to the cops but they watch his body wrack with tears as bloodcurdling sobs leave his body. They see nothing but the way he holds you, so carefully, so lovingly, as if you were about to wake right back up.

“Let’s go, give the guy a few minutes.” The officer tells his men.

“I let you down, bug. I let you down. You trusted me to protect you and I got you killed. I killed you.” His voice is raw, hands shaking more than they've ever shook before. These men, their boss, Fisk, they've taken everything from Matt, and he would stop at nothing to get his revenge.

Matt picks up his cowl slowly, trying to stand up but swaying, for he no longer has his compass.

Matthew Murdock is no longer holding his punches back.

[fluffyprettykitty]

Voyage

Pairing: Marc Spector x gender-neutral! archaeologist! reader

Word Count: 1200 words

Outline: You were a fellow avatar and together you had joined forces with Marc to retrieve a precious relic. Along the road, you discovered more precious things.

Warnings: slight angst, gun mention, not beta read, hurt/comfort.

Author’s Note: Requested by an anon. I accidentally lost the ask, I changed some things slightly to benefit my storytelling. Hope you will enjoy it. :)

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics || banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・ Marc Spector Masterlist

Being the avatar of a god seemed like such a strange dream yet here you were, walking and talking and working for goddess Isis. Her latest request was to send you back to Egypt and inside the tombs of and temples of Osiris to find something she longed for. A special trinket -or totem really depends on your way of interpretation. You didn’t care too much as long as the end goal was pure and rooted in history and your biggest passion of them all: archaeology. All these years in college really did pay off. 

In your journey, you had teamed with a fellow avatar. Marc Spector. He was witty, kind of hot heated, and very easy on the eyes. Tall, dark-haired, and with the kindest eyes you had ever seen on a man. Yet distant and buried deep within himself. He seemed to share almost the same end goal as you. Looks like all the gods were looking for things. Who were you to judge? Only here to serve her will until she felt done with you. Gods.

So far you had been on many different expeditions and explorations with Marc and long before you knew it, it was six months of you two working together. It felt wonderful having someone there to rely on. You had hoped he felt the same way. Marc didn’t speak often for himself, he was quiet and put together, there was a haunting behind his eyes and for an avatar of an Egyptian god, he truly and absolutely knew nothing. 

“Steady,” Marc warns you as you are walking on the rocky surface of the abandoned long-forgotten ruins. He seemed to be trained in those kinds of stuff. The physical kind. You felt like you could trust him with your life at a moment like this, getting lost inside the tomb. A ruckus can be heard across the room as if someone doesn’t want to take what you need. Divine interventions, maybe. You shift in your step and continue on, Marc following close behind you, his gun in the air. Maybe someone else was here. These relics were a goldmine for a smuggler. 

“Keep steady, don’t get cheeky now.” Marc’s tone is getting more serious as you are gracefully hopping on top of moving stones, trying to get to the wall. Your mission was to get to the object first and let him worry about anything else. Something is glistening on the surface. There is something scribbled there, you need to get closer to read it. 

“Is straight up ahead.” You let him know as you reach the wall, quickly focusing your attention on deciphering the message on the wall. “I know how to do this.” You say out loud, to reassure him, to affirm your moves, or maybe just for some extra encouragement. You turn around to nod your head at him with a smile before turning the circles on the wall according to the instructions on the scribble. The ruckus is getting bigger and an object is presented to you, hidden behind the encryption. 

You feel a sharp pain overcoming your body, followed by your limps getting weaker by the second as the strangest sensation of water filling your lungs engulfs you. What is happening? You blink and everything is black. With your right hand, you try to secure the relic in your reach but you are not sure if you are failing or succeeding. Then everything is black.

Yet the next moment, you awake to the sound of someone’s voice ringing against your ear. Memories of a childhood past pass through your mind and you feel like you are swimming against a current. One thought occupies your head:  You have to wake up. 

“Talk to me!” Marc raises his tone, his head frantically searching around your body. There is blood on his face, a panicked look in his eyes. Fires raging in the background.

“Please, wake up, Y/N, I need you!” More desperation befalls him as he is frantically shaking your body. With a deep breath he leans down and starts performing CPR on you, one-two tries and there you are. Waking up violently, forcing your eyes open as the air hits your lungs, you are blinking fast to the cheering sounds of Marc echoing through the Egyptian tomb. 

“You came back to me!” His face wears a look of happiness as he takes deep breaths, beaming from side to side. 

“I-” You breathe out trying to understand what happened. “I thought- I thought I was drowning.” Didn't you? Why is everything covered in flames?

“You were,” Marc responds shaking his head and sighing deeply. “For a little while, I dived in after you and brought you here.” For how long were you unconscious? You look at him as the panicked expression momentarily returns before leaving him again, he proceeds to hold your hands. “I am never letting any harm come to you, ever again. I promise that.” You chuckle in your shock, still bewildered by the occurrence of the previous events. 

“It’s okay, Marc, it’s fine, I’m okay.” You nod your head and squeeze his hand. “I am alright.” Marc shallows a lump in his throat and leans forward, cupping your face now with one hand, the other pushing your hair away. This is the first time you had ever seen him like this, soft and vulnerable.

“I will never let anything like that happen ever again.” He wants to reassure you but it seems he needs that reassurance more than you, sounds like a promise to himself. 

“Marc, I am alright, I’m alive, that’s all that counts.” His expression goes from pained to shocked back to smiling and then he shakes his head slowly. You needed to get out of here, both of you. And fast.

“I promise.” He repeats, his voice now a lot more serious than before. “I love you.” The statement is clear, this is a declaration and it’s something you have been waiting to hear for a long time. Your feelings for him were pure and just and yet never in a million years could you think that this man could also share them with you.

“Kiss me.” No time to waste anymore. This was the moment. A future and a promise altogether. You breathe out while your hands are wrapping around the wrist that’s close to your face. Black eyes reflect on yours and then he moves closer, placing his lips over yours, brushing them ever so slightly. Sealing your new fate.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this.” He whispers against your lips, heartbeats rising, echoing. 

“Then why didn’t you?” You teased looking at him. 

“Afraid.” 

“Of rejection?” 

“Of subjecting you to me.” 

“You’re not that bad.” 

“Hmpf.” 

“You’re all heart.” 

“You’re the most amazing human being I have ever seen.” 

“Bold statement. I’m just me.” 

“Exactly.” He draws his eyebrows together, his voice a little broken, heavy in his emotions. There was something about Marc, always something fighting to get on the surface. You had longed thought that maybe there was a long-lost partner, some great loss that he can’t quite mask and has instead chosen to live behind it. 

“How about we get out of here, first? You know this place is about to get burned in flames. Then we can have a heart to heart.” You continue, and a different kind of smile curling at the ends of his lips.

“You promise?” Maybe you can brighten his life. Just a little. 

“Yes.” Maybe he can brighten your life. Just a little. 

Or a lot. 

If you want to be notified about my future stories please follow my library blog @fluffyprettykittylibrary and turn on notifications!

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Tell me about Reader who’s only dated assholes (arrogant tech bros, flaky politicians, unfaithful artists, ghosting athletes, etc…) from different walks of life until she meets Frankie 👀 maybe pure FILTH ensues after a while, maybe… 👀 like. Pure fucking nasty filth. Also, beaches. 😊 maybe not at the same time tho sounds painful tbh

Ok this may have ended up softer than "filthy" but not by much!! Hope you enjoy Frankie and his magic hands, dude. Those Hands

Word count: 1200+

Rating: explicit, 18+ only

Outline: Frankie Morales x “You” (cis/het female reader, “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: coffee shop meet-cute; beach vacation; oral sex/F receiving; vaginal fingering; P/V sex; shower scene; mentions of food and alcohol

It was the hands you noticed first. Work-worn and calloused, but somehow also soft-looking. Big hands, nice hands, they held the door of the coffee shop open for you to enter as he left, and you almost tripped over the threshold with how distracted you were. You didn’t know you could be attracted to hands until you saw his, but somehow they were different from the soft, manicured hands of all the men you had dated before. Guys who only worked at keyboards in nice offices, who played golf or maybe drew sketches for upscale galleries, guys who didn’t mow their own lawns. Guys who got bored and left you after five days or seven weeks or four months. You hoped you would see him again.

And a week later you did, and then a few days after that, and then again the next day. And then one day you timed it just right, or he did, and you actually ended up in line together. And when you both picked up your orders, you ended up sort of fighting to give the other person the last open seats, a little two-top table, until you both just laughed and decided to sit with a stranger. Well, a nice stranger anyway. And there’s no way to sit at a tiny 2-person table like that without talking, and so it was very nice to find out that the pair of nice hands belonged to a nice man who finally gave you his name, and by the end of the conversation, his number. And so that’s how you ended up with ‘Frankie Morales’ listed in your phone and a date for the following Saturday.

And oh, wow, what those hands could do. Over the next few weeks you found out how warm they felt holding your hand, how well they fit around the side of your hip as you walked, how good they felt cupping your jaw for a kiss, and how thick they were when he slid them inside of you while he worked magic with his talented tongue.

Weeks turned into months turned into a year, and then suddenly there was an anniversary weekend to plan and a beach vacation to arrange, and you found yourself laying on a white sand beach holding one of those big hands in yours as you napped under an umbrella. You were just drifting off when Frankie’s big hand gave yours a squeeze. You cracked your eyes to watch him walk away, because you never got tired of that particular view, the broad shoulders and the golden skin and the easy confidence he carried himself with. Your Frankie.

And then he came back and offered you a cold drink and you sat up and brushed his fingers with yours as you took the cup and smiled at him over your sunglasses. And when he smiled back little stars burst behind your navel, better than butterflies because the starbursts were backed up by 365 days of knowing what those hands and lips and body could do, to you and with you and for you.

And the afternoon passed in lazy naps on the beach blanket interspersed with squealing moments in the water, Frankie splashing you or carrying you piggyback into the waves. And one big wave knocking your sunglasses loose into the water, lost forever until Frankie gives you his to wear, and tells you how cute you look with his big aviators on. And then the sun sets and it’s time to go wash up, have a romantic dinner, take a bottle of wine back to your beach view room. And when it’s dark you turn off all the lights and let the moon stream in through your open balcony door.

Frankie takes his time with you that first night, working you open with his lovely soft lips and tongue, licking and swirling you up into knots of desire until his fingers push you over the edge and you burst into pieces, moaning wordless sounds into the salt-scented night air that’s rolling through the room. And then he does it again, one more time just to feel you squeeze his fingers hard before he strokes himself and slides into you with hardly any friction at all. You cling to him with your arms and legs wrapped as tight as you can until he chases his own high and pins it down inside of you, thrusting into you and releasing his own deep groans, then making you sigh with contentment as he tucks you under his big arm to sleep.

The second day passes in a blur of laughter and a boat trip, sightseeing and catching a few precious glimpses of dolphins, and then more beach time and dinner. And another long night of lovemaking in your room, but this time with Frankie taking you on your hands and knees, feeling him pound deep inside of you, hitting that ticklish spot over and over as you gaze out the balcony door over the moonlit ocean. And then again at 1:00 a.m. when you wake up and feel Frankie’s cock hard against you as you snuggle, and you shift your hips back into him, and bump him playfully until he wakes up. And then you straddle him and he cups your breasts with those big hands as you grind against him and make him moan in the near dark.

And you wake up the next morning and he’s absent from the bed, but you hear him in the shower and you sneak in to join him. And Frankie puts those hands to good use one more time, scrubbing your back and rubbing suds all over you, tip to toe, and then rinsing you off before he makes you come on his fingers. He wraps you tight with your back to his broad chest, one big hand under your ribs and the other rubbing tight circles into your clit and dipping up inside of you by turns until you collapse and shatter for him and then come back to yourself. And then you kiss him and tell him you love him and he says it back, and you know he means it.

And you wonder how you did this before, without Frankie. How you put up with the arrogance and the dullness of the disinterested men that you dated. How you ever believed that they were worth your time. Because now you see it, the way that Frankie uses his hands and his whole heart to love you. How he listens to you and sees you, how you won’t ever be alone as long as he’s there.

And you dress and go down to breakfast and intertwine your fingers with his beside your orange juice, and you lift his hand to yours and kiss his magic fingers one by one. And he just looks at you, glowing at you like you’re the sweetest thing he’ll ever see. And then he tells you how soft your lips are, and how much he’s looking forward to tonight. And you tuck into your breakfast and you swear nothing has ever tasted this good in your life, because you’re finally with the right person, and that makes all the difference in the world.

--- Frankie "Catfish" Morales character masterlist Just-here-for-the-moment’s main masterlist

The only tag list I have for fics: @quica-quica-quica @anaaaispunk @justanotherblonde23 @gracie7209 @nicolethered @honestly-shite @driedgreentomatoes @dihra-vesa @1800-fight-me @the-queen-of-fools @juletheghoul @kesskirata @honeymandos @silverwolf319 @mourningbirds1 @greeneyedblondie44 @spacedilf @maxwell–lord @anxiousandboujee @cevvie @sherala007 @writeforfandoms @libellule2001 @deadhumourist @mandoalorian @javierpinme @eri16 @mandocrasis @pilothusband @bastillealmighty @eri16 @jitterbugs927 @babiiface95 because Frankie!!

[ikeromantic]

My last request!

Ikemen Sengoku + Iyeasu Tokugawa + Surprise Me + Magical Morning

Looking forward to your amazing writing!💕

Ieyasu is such a sweet grumpy bear. Approx. 1200 words of pure fluffiness.

Ieyasu woke later than usual. The sun was already up, the window golden with morning light. He reached for his lover to pull her close, but found that side of the futon empty. He frowned and sat up, looking around the room.

She wasn’t there, and her clothes were gone.

He stood, his brows drawing together. Waking up with his love was one of his favorite things. She knew that . . . didn’t she? He couldn’t imagine where she would have gone so early on their day off together.

After a brief search of the room and a short wait, he realized she wasn’t there and wasn’t coming back anytime soon. Ieyasu pulled on his clothes and stepped out into the hall of his manor. Despite the late morning hour, it was quiet. Most of the servants and vassals were out for the holiday, enjoying time with their families.

It was a brief respite from the constant rush of Azuchi castle. Tomorrow everyone would be back for Nobunaga’s celebratory feast and there wouldn’t be a moment’s peace like this again for some time.

Ieyasu took a breath and began checking room to room. She wasn’t with his scrolls and research, or in her sewing room. The garden was empty and so was the kitchen, though it was obvious she had been to both places. Then he heard her.

She was humming something softly, a cheerful song that made him hold his breath just to hear her more clearly. The chatelaine didn’t sing often. She thought she wasn’t good enough, but Ieyasu loved the way she sounded.

He wondered what this song was, if it was something from her home. His love was sometimes homesick, though she tried to hide it. Ieyasu wondered if today was one of those holidays that brought back nostalgic memories. If so, he wished she would tell him instead of sneaking off from the bed to . . . to do whatever it was she was up to.

After several long moments, he realized she wasn’t coming out of the room anytime soon. He tried to make sense of what he heard, clinking porcelain and the scratch of branches on wood, rustling fabric, and her lilting song. But he had no idea. The room wasn’t anything important, just an occasional meeting space for him when merchants or vassals needed to speak to him. Ieyasu could think of a reason for her to be there, except that it was honestly the last place he expected to find her.

It crossed his mind then that perhaps that was the point. Maybe she wanted time to herself on this day off. He’d planned to spend every moment with her, but if she didn’t want him around he could read or something. Ieyasu ignored the sharp little pain in his chest and turned to go. He made it a few quiet steps away when he heard the door slide open behind him.

“Ieyasu?”

Caught. Now she would think he was trying to force his company on her. “You were making so much noise I couldn’t sleep,” he grumbled without turning to look at her.

“Did I? All the way across the mansion?” She laughed softly.

“You did. Now that I know it’s nothing important, I’m going back to bed.” He took another step away, feeling like an idiot. He heard her follow.

“How do you know it’s nothing important?”

At this, Ieyasu stopped. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering what she was trying to needle him about.

His lover reached for him and took his arm. “Why don’t I show you, hm? Will you come with me, just for a moment?”

“You don’t have to show me anything.” He gave her a weary look, but didn’t try to pull away. Her hands on his arm felt so nice. Not as nice as snuggling her in bed, but still.

She led him to the room.

Ieyasu stopped with one foot past the door, his mouth opening in surprise. Cloth hung from the walls, and painted scrolls with snowy scenes. There were glass candles set in various places, and a small pine tree in a pot, wrapped in ribbons and bows. It was as beautiful as it was strange.

“Do you like it?” She looked up at him with hope in her eyes.

“I -” Ieyasu wasn’t sure what to say. “Did you do this for me?”

She nodded. “I wanted to share a Christmas with you, like I used to celebrate at home. It’s a western holiday but-”

“I know what it is. The missionaries talk about it but I have never seen them do something like this.” Ieyasu walked through the room, studying the decorations. The paintings on the scrolls were a little clumsy, and very odd. Deer like creatures pulling some sort of red wagon, and one of them had a bright red nose. A fat man with a bag and a funny hat and long white beard.

The chatelaine followed, explaining. “That is a reindeer. The one with the nose is Rudolph. And that - that’s Santa? He brings presents.” There were more and she told him what each one meant and why she liked it.

“So you made all of this?” Ieyasu finally turned back to face her.

“Yeah. I guess it was kind of silly. I just thought you might like -”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “You precious little fool,” he sighed. “Of course I like it. You made it. No one ever did anything like this.” He hugged her tight, breathing in the scent of her hair.

She made his heart feel so full that his chest hurt and his eyes stung. Ieyasu lifted her off her feet and kissed her again, slowly this time, putting everything he felt into the press of their lips and the caress of their tongues.

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she sighed with the pleasure of being thoroughly kissed. When they parted for a breath, she smiled. “I was worried, you know. I’m not very good at painting or anything. I thought you might say it looked stupid.”

Ieyasu kissed the tip of her nose and shook his head. “It’s beautiful. You are beautiful.”

She smiled brightly, her cheeks flushed with happiness and embarrassment at the compliment.

“There was one thing though . . .” Ieyasu stuck his lower lip out in a small pout.

“What thing?” She turned her head, trying to see what he was looking at.

Ieyasu sighed heavily. “I wanted to wake up and make love to my woman. But when I woke up, you were already gone.”

If she was blushing before, her cheeks and ears positively burned now. “Y-you can’t just say things like that!”

“Why not? We’re alone. And now that I have you in my arms, don’t think you’re getting away without giving me what I want.” He said it in a severe tone, but studied her expression to make sure she wanted him to.

“H-here?” Her voice wavered but her eyes sparked with passion.

“Here,” he nodded, pressing her against one of the fabric wall hangings. He felt his own face warm as he kissed her neck.

She made a low, hungry moan. “Oh . . . yes. Here. Mmmmm . . .”

“Good,” he smiled.

The room and the hall beyond filled the soft gasps and throaty cries of lovers making a gift of each other.

[slenderman-apologist]

Don't do drugs kids

Hey everyone!

Me and Ghost (@guts-blood-n-screamzz) had this idea for a scenario with our ocs (Slyvester and Isa) and i finally finished writing it!

It's exactly 1200 words.

A major cw for; Someone going missing, v0m1t (a whole scene of it, ok), and the usage of drugs, specifically acid. Be careful please.

_________________

Devastating.

It’s only been a week since Isabella went missing out of the blue. But no one else except Sylvester seems to remember.

They’ve been given someone, they've finally opened up, they thought they were finally getting better, and just like that; everything was ripped away from Slyvester like she’s never even had anything.

But literally. No one knew who this Isabella lady was, anything at all; even though Sylvester knew the people they were asking about her had definitely met Isa.

It felt like she was going crazy. 

Like she never existed. Was this a long ongoing hallucination?

Has she finally lost it?

They don’t know. It’s hard to know anything while being in the void state after taking acid, laying on the floor of their oversized trash-bin of a room.

Everyone forgot about a whole person’s existence, but did they really exist?

Sylvester was so unsure. The memories felt so real, it must be real, right?

“She doesn't exist, you are crazy! But she felt so real, everyone else saw her, heard her, loved her! She was real!”

The cycle of uneasiness repeated itself in their head, and they just couldn’t stop it. It was pure agony from every side. They couldn’t open their eyes. Everything looked so sharp up front, so blurry from afar, she didn’t even have to focus her eyes to see the moving geometrical shapes on her blanket laying on the bed.

“What if aliens took her?” Sylvester asked herself jokingly as they got up from the floor in motivation of their back starting to hurt more than tolerably.

They lay on the bed in a starfish position, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling, in hopes of the thoughts quitting down.

Unfortunately for them, the worst trip of their life was not about to end any time soon.

“You are just a crazy slut!”

“Like a child you imagined yourself a friend and look what happened the moment you were completely sober!” 

“It’s all your fault!”

They shot up from the bed and ran to the kitchen, throwing the fridge door open and yanking a full unopened gallon of milk out, slamming the poor door back in its place. 

With that same pace and energy, they literally chugged half of the entire gallon in one breath. 

Sounds like someone really wants to escape self-guilt, doesn't it?

Not even five minutes later, while mindlessly zoning out at the kitchen cupboards, Sylvester gets an awful sharp pain in their stomach and they bolt it to the bathroom.

The next sight isn’t pretty by any means. Poor darling is in haste trying to tie her hair up while all the milk that was once inside of her leaves as fast as it entered her body.

They are by no means new to vomiting, yet somehow it felt like this was their first time having this kind of defense mechanism coming from their body.

Thankfully, it did not last long. 

There they were again. Kneeling next to the toilet, elbows resting on the seat, keeping her upper body up, her hair tied up in the last possible second, wondering how many times will she let this happen to them again.

As she was resting after this huge run and exhausting betrayal of their own body, a very obscure idea entered their drug-blinded brain. 

“What if someone really did take her?”

It really didn’t sound stupid at all! Miss Isa was the kindest and smartest person in this god-forsaken village. She helped anyone she knew, always got through the differences, never let anyone sleep on an argument, literally as if an angel was possessing an introverted psychologist.

And that is when Sylvester started thinking about the weird way Isa began acting a few months ago, and how it got more and more intense when it was getting close to the date she went missing on.

Isabella was less and less like herself, paranoid, grumpy; she could hardly be left alone at times! And not to mention that in the past month she went so far as to record herself literally all the time, saying she began having worrying memory issues. 

It all made sense. Someone was behind all of this. Somebody was stalking and threatening Isabella and they just had enough and took her that day.

With that absolutely insane theory and a new burst of hope and energy Sylvester got up, flushed the toilet, and washed her hands and face.

They fixed up the birdnet of the hair they made, and ran back to her room to get some acceptable clothes to pull on so they don’t look like the lunatic they are while on the way to Isabella’s house.

And with that she was off. 

The cozy, well-kept house had a nice welcome mat at the front door, which  Sylvester didn’t seem to give a damn about, lifting it up and tossing it to the side. There was a spare key under the mat.

Sylvester opened the door and the sight kind of shocked her. 

Every room in the house was spotless and clean. Like she was hiding something.

They waltzed in to investigate. Kitchen and bathroom were perfect and orderly, even inside the cupboards. The living room looked like it'd been freshly vacuumed, and there were not even specs of dust on the shelves. 

The bedroom, on the other hand, was in terrible condition. The bed was a mess of blankets and pillows, even though Sylvester knew Isa made her bed every morning from a 3 day sleepover.  The window was shut with the curtains covering it, even though Isabella was quite a fan of leaving windows open to let the fresh air in. 

There was a book open on the ground. It looked like some journal. 

“Jackpot!” She muttered to herself, picking it up and seeing detailed entries that got messier  and  messier with every day that was recorded. It stopped on the day she went missing.

“I’ll take a look at this later.”

They looked to their right and saw Isabella’s work desk. Her laptop was open and plugged in. 

Several sites were open in her browser. 

Most were on how to aid paranoia and insomnia, but there were sites open about being stalked and when to contact the police as well.  There was a site open about different entities, too, but Sylvester was not sure how to take that information in.

After a quick check if Isa had a password on the computer and finding out she in fact did not, Slyvester took the laptop off the charger and ran to get the corkboard and got to work. 

She blacked out.

The next morning they woke up next to a bunch of corpses of the snacks she ate to be able to keep moving, and a huge case pinned onto the corkboard with yarn. 

Exactly like in detective movies.

 Next to that board there was a neatly put stack of papers which appeared to be notes she took for the hangover Sylvester. Smart move from someone who was tripping balls the night they solved a missing person case.

“Time to revise.” She said with hope in her voice and tears in their eyes.

[vannybarber]

All Night Long

Summary: You know very well what he does when he leaves and you know you need to let go.

Ari Levinson x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: angst, cheating, cursing, implies of smut.

They told you. All of them did. But you didn't need anyone to tell you because you knew. And stayed anyway. Why? Because you were a fool in love. You know he needs you and that is what keeps you there. And you needed him.

At first, it was 2 or 3 times a year. He would leave to Sudan with other agents to save refugees and sneak them to Israel. A man with a good heart. For those in particular of course. You had recieved a piece of that heart, but not all of it. You weren't enough. Not enough to stay faithful to. Not enough to give everything to. Just not enough.

Fast forward 6 years later, it became 5 or 6 times every year in between months. You barely saw the man. But you stayed. Because you loved him enough. Enough to stay faithful to. Enough to give everything to. Just enough.

After he'd come back home, you were there. Waiting for him, like he always knew you would. And every time, you could see it in his eyes. It's like as soon as he saw you, there was pain. Pain of remembering what he does when he's gone. Pain of knowing that you were aware and continued to play it off. Pain of knowing you'd still stand by him and suffer in the process.

Sometimes his agent buddies came and picked him up for their next expedition. All of them were kind to you, partially out of pity. Especially Rachel. But only she was nice out of straight guilt. Because both of you knew she was on her back for him every time he left.

Before and during your relationship.

You could even see it in their body language. It became a numb feeling you were used to after a while though.

What gave everything away in the first place, was when he came back, he would make love to you so good, you could still feel it for the time that he left. At first you just took it as him missing you since he was away for so long.

But as time went by, it gotten to something you couldn't explain. It was passionate, but it was as if he had hurt you. Like makeup sex or something. As if he was fucking you, asking for forgiveness. Because he was getting it from someone else. Well others, you should say.

But you took it anyway. To forget everything in that moment. The pain. The lies. The blatant disrespect. Just a moment of bliss no one could take away from you. Until you both came and it was back to square one. Back to reality. But reality set in and you had to get real. Do for you. Get out.

That's what led you to your current position.

Standing in the middle of you and Ari's shared bedroom. You took all of your belongings and moved them into your new spot hours from here, across town. He was on his way back from his last voyage. He told you that he managed to get 1200 Sudanese from the attacks on their village to safety.

You were happy that he used his privilege to help out these people that needed a better life. That wanted a better life for their kids. But you wanted him to use that same energy into you. Keyword: wanted. That was a past dream that couldn't come true even if tried.

After moments of random thoughts to yourself, you hear your lover come through the door. The sound of his infamous brown backpack you grew to hate, hitting the floor snapped you back into reality, agony washing over you. You had to do this. You didn't deserve to be treated like this.

Walking in the room, his eyes fall on you. And you see it for the millionth time. Pain. It would never stop. That's why you had to put an end to it yourself. He comes over and hugs you. A guilt covered one. Of course you hug him back. That would be the last time you do.

In his arms, you look up at him and give him a tired smile. He mirrors your action and leans down for a deep kiss.

From the mouth that has been on many different faces and other places you could not name.

You kiss him back, nothing less of desperation and tongue, with a touch of cherry lipstick that you've never owned, but do remember Rachel showing you after she bought it the last time you saw her. Pulling away, you're met with those sea blue eyes. The ones that scanned over the resort after one of him many artifices. Sadness washed over you at that moment. You wouldn't be seeing those any longer.

"Ari, I can't do this anymore."

He looks at you, not with confusion, but shock. Shocked that you were finally putting your foot down. Even you yourself were flabbergasted at your own thoughts. You've always had them but never acted on them.

"Baby, what do you mean?" he pulls back a little. "I d-don't get it." You almost laugh at that word. Baby. The name he had for all the women he allowed on his body. It was nothing to you but a starter for a sentence.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. For 6 years I stayed beside you. Alone. No marriage. No kids. Everything I wanted was flushed away for you. Even though you were unfaithful to me." Your arms were crossed, fingers playing with the keys in hand. Every word you let out was shakey.

"I'm going for good. To start over with someone who actually loves me. With someone who feels I am enough." Raising your voice a little, you continue. "You got your fucking resort. You got your countless whores. But you don't have me."

As you walk away almost at the door, he grabs your arm. Pulling you back like he always does, you find yourself back in front of him.

"I know you don't mean that, sweetheart." His hands trail up to your waist. "You know I love you and you love me. No one can do you as good as me." And he was right. You weren't someone who got around. He was all you knew. He taught you everything. Nothing could come close to him.

Feeling his breath fan over your face, you get nervous. All the dignity and confidence you had earlier was slowly fading away. He got to you per usual. Your plan was falling apart. You were falling apart.

He proceeded with his persuasive speech. "You can't leave me baby. You're all I got. I need you." By now, his front was against yours, face near your ear, right cheek rested against your right one. His little plan was working oh so well. You were giving in and it hurt so bad.

"Ari.. "

"Shh." He silences you and kisses down your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, hands gripping the soft flesh on your lower back through your jeans. He was touching you just how you liked him to. He knew all the moves to get you in his court.

"Please don't leave me. I can't live without you." He was begging, but not enough that he was actually desperate. He knew your answer. He sucked harder, hands moving up to squeeze your breasts. It was a done deal now.

"Okay, okay" you spoke shamefully. But that all went away when he picked you up and placed you on the bed. Here was your moment to forget. The moment of pure bliss. And you were gonna bathe in it. All night long.

I'm messed up in the head for enjoying writing sad stuff like this. 😭

[whump-captain]

No. 22 - They made me do it

cursed | demon | obsession

(1200 words, OC)

i wonder if this is comprehensible lol cause im not sure if i want this to be canon or not and the reason is that it ties into another story i have in my head and that one's pretty lore-heavy and sprawling and these characters would literally be on the very edges of it, barely involved. idk. it's long again.

---

CN: possession, seizure, knifepoint, blood, glass in mouth, panic attack, paranormal happenings

---

Elaine's had a bad feeling for days already when she gets the text. Cutter messages her in the dead of the night, two words: "Coming over". It makes her sigh but she does have to admit she appreciates the warning. It only took one mention from her that she's not a fan of unannounced visits for him to cut them out completely; sticking to texts or phone calls instead or giving her a heads-up with a - usually excessively wordy - text. Tonight, though, she's tired and on edge, so she misses the uncharacteristic brevity. Until the doorbell rings and she opens to see him leaning on the door frame, face pale as ash, his smile a ghost of the usual one. "Sorry," he breathes. "Didn't know where else to go."

She opens her mouth to answer but suddenly he doubles over; Elaine moves to catch him and feels that he's ice cold to the touch. His skin looks wrong too, it has a strange, dull sheen to it, like plastic.

Or like glass.

"What's going on?" she asks through a dry throat. She leads - no, more like drags him inside; his knees wobble, he clings to her for balance.

"I've just-" The reply comes, fragmented by heavy breaths. "Just felt like shit all day and then- Then I felt-" He barks a cry of pain and his body seizes. It feels like something inside him rips. Every muscle tenses at once and refuses to obey him, he half-registers Elaine catching him again. Horrible tension builds inside his lungs, like a scream he can't contain but the voice isn't his. It burns, just like his skin burns now, every inch of it, converging and culminating over his sternum, right in the center of the scar.

Elaine jerks back when he convulses. Her mind throws a hundred words a minute at her, each more frantic than the previous. Seizure? Stroke? Injury? No, none of those. She sees his eyes roll back and the whites are glittering, reflecting light like multifaceted glass.

This is no regular seizure.

Cutter's body thrashes out of her grip, inhuman force tears her hands off of him. But he doesn't fall. Something holds him rigidly upright, back arched, head thrown back as his mouth moves around a soundless gasp. For a split second, his face twists into a grimace of silent agony; then it falls completely blank.

When his voice comes, it's not fully his. Something else contracts his vocal cords and pushes out his breath, forming warbled, wheezing, barely human words:

"The waiting is over."

Lightning-fast, Elaine draws a dagger. Pure silver glints, in a blink it's at Cutter's throat. He shudders, but the voice keeps repeating those four words, falling now into a rhythm.

"I cast you out of this body," Elaine says, clear and strong. "By the touch of silver, by the trill of song, by my word as master of this dwelling; I cast you out."

She whistles. Four short notes; one high, two repeating, one low. The chant falters, thrown off its melody and Cutter's body sways as the presence inside it swells in furious frustration.

Elaine stands statue-still. Her arm is raised, the dagger doesn't even twitch.

"Leave," she says.

She feels it all at once. Raw emotion rushes over her like a waterfall, mixed and twisted beyond recognition. The flash of blinding anger makes her breath catch - and then it's gone. The last chanted word fades along with a faint but unmistakable pang of the deepest sadness.

The ghost is gone.

Cutter drops like a de-stringed puppet. Elaine is down with him in a dash, her hands hovering, unsure what to do as adrenaline seeps out of her. She's an expert on the supernatural; but what does she do when it's gone? Cutter's convulsing again, this time with a violent coughing fit. It sounds like he's suffocating, gasping between the coughs, and blood stains the floor below him where he holds himself up on trembling arms.

Then a small clink sounds out. Along with the blood, he spits out a polished shard of glass.

Elaine's stomach sinks. Memories rush to her and she hates being right; hates remembering the ghost that almost killed both of them, and hates the reminder that she has not truly defeated it. More glass glitters on the floor and she knows that Cutter understands now, too, because his eyes grow wide with raw terror. His gasping stops, as if someone bound his throat, and he's shaking in complete silence, blood dripping from desperately clenched teeth.

He's hyperventilating, Elaine realizes. What does she do? What would Joy do? What would-

She pulls the dagger again and shoves it into Cutter's hand. "Hold this."

He looks up at her and the veil of fear shrouding his eyes tears slightly. He inhales suddenly and then he's gasping again - but different, a fraction more controlled. She closes his fingers over the blade, careful to only male him touch the flat of it.

"It's my silver dagger," she explains. "I cast out the ghost by invoking silver, a song, and my power over the house. The house itself was probably enough, but touching silver is good as a redundancy, because it's physical. I cast it out three times, so that took it from a threat to a command, which made it harder for it to disobey, because it was in my domain. The song was to ground me, mostly."

As she speaks, Cutter's eyes do not leave hers. His breathing grows slower and quieter, he finds its rhythm once again and latches onto it as the shivers begin to calm. He says, in a voice that is hoarse and shaky but undeniably his:

"Are you using my own techniques on me?"

At that, Elaine releases a breath of her own, a heavy sigh of relief and, she realizes, exhaustion. "You said that explaining your methods calms people down," she says.

He did say that, months ago, when she asked how the hells he managed to stop people from freaking out at the bare mention of ghosts. She dismissed him then, saying that the ghosts he deals with aren't real, so surely it can't be the same. She likes being wrong, she decides.

She sits back on her heels and Cutter does the same, leaning heavily back onto his arms. He's panting now like he ran a marathon but with what breath he has he manages a short, raspy laugh. It has a hysterical edge to it, but Elaine is glad to hear it nonetheless. If he's grinning like an idiot again, then maybe the world isn't ending.

"Elaine, you are so fucking smart," he says.

She responds with a small smile of her own, tired but there. "Spare me."

"I'm serious." He lets his head drop forward, still unsteady in balance. "I'm not just flattering. You are so bloody smart and we're all going to die without you."

"What?"

He sighs and his ashen face takes on a look of vague annoyance. "I think the world is ending."

[amateur-author597]

Dear Trauma,

I wake up, I’m always laying in a puddle of sweat. I can’t help but try to fight exhaustion after getting my breath under control and my heart stops pounding but it claws at the edges of my consciousness, I have nightmares when I get back into bed. How do I sleep with these thoughts racing through my head, I could drug myself to sleep and still be exhausted when I wake.

It's like these voices just keep playing on repeat in the back of my head and I can't get them to leave me alone.

I just want them to leave me alone.

Alone.

I just want to be alone.

I don’t want to feel alone.

People try to tell me they understand and they’ll always be here for me but they always lie! They want to understand and they want to help. They don’t want to understand! They don’t want to help! It’s too hard! It’s hard to sit there maybe for hours if you’re needed and it’s hard to listen and it’s hard to give advice so they don’t try.

They don’t know what it feels like to have this storm inside my mind and this condescending weight slowly crushing more and more as I try to fight. They don’t know that feeling but they have their own feelings.

Everyone wants to vent, everyone wants to scream their feelings out to the world, everybody wants someone to listen to all their worries but nobody wants to get their goddamn head out of their ass to listen to anyone else!

Anxiety isn't an item you can return at the store!

Depression isn’t an American cousin who goes home after Christmas!

PTSD isn’t a song you can delete from your phone when you tire of its repetitive rhythm!

And I’m stuck with them because of YOU!

IT’S YOUR FAULT!

YOU DID THIS TO ME!

You aren’t something I can pretend doesn’t exist!

These memories aren’t something that just goes away. Time passes and they begin to fade a little but I can’t ignore that they happened. I don’t always remember all of the exact words or sound of the peoples’ voices as they said them, but I remember the feeling that would build up in my chest and fog up my mind every time they entered the room and the feeling of drowning after they would try and talk to me. A single world and I was 6 feet underwater in the middle of an endless ocean of despair

I can barely remember my childhood but that isn’t too abnormal. I LOST AN ENTIRE YEAR OF MY LIFE! TWO ACTUALLY! FOR THREE DAMN MONTHS OF PAIN I LOST TWO WHOLE YEARS OF MY LIFE FROM MY MEMORY!

I was 18 when I pulled a gun out

At the time it felt like my options had run out

So I put that barrel to my chest, and I pulled the trigger halfway

I tried to muster up the courage to put myself away that day

How many times have I wondered about doing that to myself? I was 10 the first time I thought about killing myself, it was then I started being afraid of my own mind. How could something that had once been so pure and so innocent and full of wonder at the world around, a mind in the clouds and oh so joyful turn to something so dark and evil

Some days it's so hard to bring myself to eat although I know I need to. I can’t bring myself to feel any appetite no matter how loud or often my stomach will begin to growl. My head pounds with little to no relief and it feels like a heavy burden to get up every morning. Heavier than it should be. It’s not that I’m tired from a lack of sleep it just feels so exhausting to face the world outside of my bed.

Whenever I leave my house I find myself counting down until I can return home, I hate the way I can feel so isolated in a crowd but so overwhelmed by even the smallest number of people yet I hate even more how I can simultaneously feel so comforted by the loneliness of my own home.

I have friends and I have family and I won't try and deny that they care about me and want me to be happy but I can't bring myself to ask for help. I have to help them fight the fires in themselves but if I drop a single match and I let the fire out I’m scared no one could put me out.

I haven't been beaten, I haven't been raped, I don't get told every day that the world would be better off if I just ended my life, and I haven’t spent my life drowning in drugs and alcohol from the people around me. I’ve always had a home and my parents always tried to make time for me. I’ve been told time and time again that I have no right to complain about my life. Other people always have it worse so anything I’ve been through can’t be that bad.

Maybe that’s true

Maybe I have a good life. But you can only take so much of the people who are supposed to love and care about you hurting you. Over and over again.

At a certain point in your life everyone finds out if they can do one of two things, they find out how they cope with pain in the people around them. Sure it hurts to see the people you love in pain but only some people can react like an empath. Only some people can see through other people's pain and mirror it irrelevant of how much they do or don’t care about the person.

I was 12 the first time I understood how someone can mirror another person’s pain. I was 12 when I discovered I was one of those “gifted” people. God, how I wish that hadn’t been true.

There is only so much you watch a person being torn apart every day on repeat by someone who was supposed to have loved them. There’s only so many times you can hear senseless screaming at someone who doesn't deserve it.

I spent three months crying myself to sleep to the sound of screaming and hiding in myself too scared of the person on the other side of the door. My parents always taught me to stand up for people who are being hurt even if they are capable of protecting themselves but every time I tried I found myself quivering and my breath would halt like I was a tiny animal stuck in the headlights of a large truck, that’s what it felt like. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless.

How many times have I sat there with the same song on repeat for days on end hiding in the corner of my room wondering ‘maybe I’m better off dead? If I was, would it finally be enough to shut out all those voices in my head? Maybe I’m better off dead’.

I tried so hard to fix things; dad couldn't always be home and mum was being killed slowly by someone who was supposed to care. She spent almost every hour at work and you made me become both parents while I failed to keep myself going. My heart was beating and I was still breathing but I wasn’t alive.

You have become an almost normal thing in people’s lives when that should never have to be the case.

Do you enjoy the way you hurt people?

Does it hurt you too?

Why do you hurt us so?

Sincerely me,

“Honey” my mother’s voice breaks me out of my haze of thoughts. I lock eyes with her for a moment until she breaks to contact to flick down to the paper in hand.

“Is that what you wanted to show us?” My dad asks. When I don’t answer he rolls his eyes irritably and reaches to grab the letter only for me to yank it away from his grasp. “Look what did you want? We’re busy so you have to make this quick”, he grunts in annoyance at my actions while my mum gently puts her hand on his shoulder to calm him.

“What did you want to tell us?”

I take a deep breath trying to stop my racing heart and calm my nerves to get the words out, that’s the whole reason I wrote this bloody letter. Everything I was never brave enough to say on a single fragile piece of paper. A single piece of paper already stained in the corner by coffee with some of the ink already smudged by tear stains (left behind at 3 am when I had written it after fighting concentration for hours all for 1200 bloody words). All I had to do was hand it over. One simple little thing.

My fingers itch to hand it over but I can’t.

Something holds me back.

My mother slowly tries to reach for my hand or really the paper in my grasp calmly asking again “What did you want to tell us?”

I pull back suddenly, making her frown and bring the sheet to my chest.

I can’t do this.

“Nothing”.

That’s all I say.

That’s all there is to say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So....here it is @the-arson-author-gamer

My last Creative writing task for Advanced English

[myhaikyuuthings]

“These Words” soulmate series

prompt: soulmate au your soulmates last words ever said are on your body, they turn red when said, first words ever said to you are on another part of your body, they turn gold when said

pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

warnings: angst, major character death

wc: 1200 (exactly, damn go me)

a/n: this is going to be a mini series that I write for Minimum ten characters, so any specific ones you have in mind please feel free to request them

‘Well ain’t ya a pretty thing’ and ‘It’s a little early now ain’t it?’ were tattooed forever on the sides of your ribcage in messy handwriting, the words haunting you every time you looked in the mirror. At first, you thought it was obvious which words were what, but you didn’t realize just how close together they would be said. 

You met Atsumu in such a mundane way that it was almost comical. You had been visiting your childhood friend Sakusa when the blonde man approached you, the words falling from his lips like he had them memorized just waiting for you. His smirk had blossomed into a wide smile when you spoke, the words along his collarbone turning a brilliant gold. Your friend wasn’t exactly amused but he was happy for you, and the two of you quickly fell into perfect harmony. 

Over the first few weeks there were small hiccups but that’s normal. You both agreed to take things slow, not wanting to rush into the ‘I love you’ and relationship aspect just because you were soulmates. Truthfully it wasn’t uncommon for someone’s soulmate to be platonic, so it was the best decision to let things play out naturally. 

You never missed the way his eyes lingered on his collarbone when he passed the mirror, or the way he would glance at your ribs with a fond look in his eyes. The two of you promised to not show each other the last words until you were officially together, admittedly no one should know what their final words will be but it was inevitable if you pursued a romantic relationship. You were a little against the idea at first, mainly because of what exactly your words were, but you agreed none the less. 

He had invited you to watch one of his games a few months into your friendship. It was common knowledge now that he had met his soulmate, but no one really knew who you were. He played as well as ever, and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at watching him perform. After the game the two of you took his car downtown, opting to walk around instead of driving the few blocks. 

“Y/N, I think  we have a good idea of what kind of soulmates we are now, don’t you?” he asked as the two of you strolled under the street lights, his hand brushing against yours with every step. 

You smiled softly, turning to look at him properly, “I’d say we do,” you agreed. 

He smiled at you, raising his hand to caress your cheek. You leaned into his touch, letting your eyes flutter shut. He leaned forward, pressing a light kiss to your forehead with a smile, his other hand pulling you closer to him by your hips. You pulled back, bringing him in for a gentle kiss when you saw the headlights behind him. 

“Atsumu-” you gasped, pulling him out of the way before the car barreled onto the sidewalk. 

The car barely clipped him as it sped into the building you were previously standing in front, sending the two of you onto the ground. His body landed on you, the weight making it difficult for you to breathe as the world spun around you. The impact from the fall had definitely caused some damage to your head, but the groans above you brought you back to focus. He rolled off of you, falling flat onto his back on the pavement. 

“Hey hey it’s okay, you’re going to be fine alright,” you stammered, noticing the blood pooling underneath him. 

The fear coursing through your body was the only thing keeping you moving. You called for an ambulance while trying to keep him conscious and engaged in conversation. There was no way to tell how bad the damage was, but you knew there wouldn’t be that much blood if it wasn’t serious.

“Baby,” he coughed as you hung up the phone, reaching for your hand slowly, “i’m gonna be okay don’t worry, I still gotta take your ass on a date right?”

“Right, you aren’t going anywhere yet,” you agreed, taking his hand in yours tightly, “The ambulance will be here soon and we’ll get you help and everything’s fine, you’re fine.” 

“I gotta be fine, can’t die on you here,” he laughed, wincing at the pain it caused. You choked on a sob, trying to get him to stop moving. You cupped his cheek, wiping away the tears that ran down his face. 

“I love you,” you whispered, saying a small thank you to the universe as you heard the sirens approaching. He turned his head until his lips pressed against your palm, leaving a light kiss on your skin at your words. 

“I think,” he started, coughing slightly, blood pooling on his bottom lip, “it’s a little early now ain’t it?” 

You froze, your heart catching in your throat as you processed his words. He gave you a sad smile, his eyes beginning to droop as he looked at you. He knew from your reaction those were his words, this was it for him. His heart broke for you more than himself, and every moment with you flew through his mind in his last moments. Every time he could have made you his, really his, flashed through and he realized that would be his only regret in death. The sight of his eyes falling shut snapped you back to reality and then you were screaming. 

He didn’t die that night, the paramedics got him to the hospital and sent him directly to surgery. He lived, but he was in a medically induced coma so his body could heal without stress. A part of you hoped his words had been purely coincidence, after all they didn’t turn red. They weren’t red yet, that was a good sign. 

You visited him daily, even though he couldn’t respond back to you. You sat by his bed, telling him about your day and the newest things in volleyball. Sometimes his brother was there when you arrived and the two of you talked about the possibility of him waking up. One of you had to be there when he woke up you decided one day, so you alternated shifts. If you weren’t there Osamu was and vice versa. 

You went home that night, knowing he would call you if his brother woke up. Trusting him to call you. The morning you woke up you decided to take a shower before you headed back to the hospital. Your phone rang from your bedroom as you fell to your knees, the sight of red against your skin staring back at you from the floor length mirror. 

He had passed merely ten minutes before, Osamu couldn’t call immediately, the pain too much for him. By the time he did you already knew, and you rushed to the hospital. The two of you mourned Atsumu together, he was truly the only one who understood your pain. Atsumu was your soulmate, but he was Osamu’s in a way too. You lost the other part of your soul and Osamu lost the other part of his entirety. 

[animeloversworldsblog]

Ok im tired of all this things so im gonna started

Guren ichinose is a child, an innocent child, how he should be at his age, well knows from all hiragis and the rest of the houses. So mahiru knew well who he was at the age of 5, she went for him for one reason: make his father angry because he killed her mother, she was right to get angry? Yes she was, but that give you the right to goes after a kid where his family were dealing with their garbage for 500 years? No, of course not. And is not just that, she analyzed him and observed him, she ordered him to do whatever she wanted it, she observed his personality and even used him to become strong to be free of her family, and it didn't matter if that was  him or other boy. She left that her family interrogate guren and his family bcs she was going to see him. If she was a sweet innocent girl why she let her family tortured them, she always run away bcs nothing was more important than her. She even say that she hate hiragi family bcs her mother was killed so she wanna go after what hiragis hate the most. So sweet and innocent never was. She even called guren and his family ichinose trash. She needed guren to fall for her first yet she ending up falling for him (with actually never was, she just need a tool) .Being the manipulative person she is , mahiru used all the pawns ( which is her own family guren and his friends) to complete her plans.People may say that she had goals and ambitions but there are ways you can do things and she completely went of the rail and lost her damn mind. Mahiru only goal in life was to use guren as her puppet and make him feel the pain she feels which is loneliness, and guren being a "perfect" target cause nobody respected or like him so he was the perfect lab rat / pawn / victim for her. Misery loves company and unfortunately guren was chosen.    

 So her personality was selfish since child, if you are angry because you have an abusive and shitty father don’t go and screw a little kid for your own selfish reasons, why goes from him in the first place? Because she saw him just like the rest of her family, rat ichinose, scum ichinose. So since child wasn’t different from her family was the same, Because from hiragis and the rest of the houses is better screw a family for unreasonable ridiculous hatred to proof that “because I have power or I belong to a powerful family I’m going to show you I can do whatever I want with you” even guren said it that he learned he don’t have to defy hiragi house because they can smash people however they want. But then again, if she grow up in a cruel environment what make her the right to do whatever she wants with people bcs she was suffering?  What make her less cruel that the rest of her family? She become in the same as them bcs power was all to them. Even she want to get free of her destiny why screw everybody life on the process?. We forget that she wants guren just to be free and ask him kill all his family and friends? She wants to fulfill her wishes even if that meant hurt someone on the process.

Shinya well people think that hate her is bcs she rejected shinya and wasn’t want to be with him, that is so wrong. She wasn’t suffering any pain, she has 10, and she was treated normal even if she grow up around an abusive and cruel family, but shinya? He was yet another child that suffered at the hand of another form of child abuse. Maybe he also force himself to like/love mahiru because he life was on the line ... what people may not realize or care about is that when your life is on the line alot of the enemies words or ideas start to make since after a while. Shinya was a child that wanted a true family but ended up the joke of the family (so it's a mixture of what he wanted for the family aspect but got treated like the family pet). I'm pretty sure of shinya had the option to choose what he wanted he would never go with the hiragis.. his morals and standards are way to high he wouldn't lower himself to thier level.                                     She was selfish, egotistical and treated shinya like garbage acting like a good girl yet she felt disgusting about him. More she goes to meet him just to tell him back off, more of that she not even care about a lot of kids being death, she doesn't love him?  Good, she hasn't to accept him? Good. Yet, why do you think not be able to love someone is the worst thing that can happened to you?  She did lose something? Yes her mother, but even so She is suffering any pain?  She was lock up and mentally abused?  No at all. She even is disgusting bcs shinya treat her nice and hate people prize her yet she prize herself. And who are you to obligated to a boy that you even met a few months and not even seeing him for over 10 years to love you? (She force guren to like her) She pretend to be nice with shinya and then making him fight after all what he through like if his effort would mean nothing. She is rotten since the beginning so don't give me with the crap that the demons influence her. We forget about shinya . Can we compare him here with her? Yes a lot, she was lonely so she  hasn't other choices to became a demon why? Shinya was sold for his parents,  was in a cage with 5 damn years old killing others kid, killing each others, can we talk about how many kids here lost everything and died like if they were an old object disposable garbage. And shinya lost his childhood. And was COMPLETELY LONELY. Yet he still grow up around hiragi family and try to be a normal kid surviving. Now  her grow up around the family and even with just 5 had bad intentions with people that she not even know like guren?  Being lonely doesn't became you an a monster are your action what define you. That thing you don't have anything so you just don't have a choice to became a demon is pure garbage, bcs if that would be the case every person in ons world that are lonely could be a monster and is not the case much people grow up to became better. Look kids that grow up without parents, lonely around even parents that destroyed their life. And fight and try harder to became in good persons. If you think this girl hasn't choices BCS BORN WITH A DEMON that is wrong  and see what is being a lonely child with problems and not have anybody that care or love you. Even shinya could became in a monster but he didn't he choose to be the way he is,( even guren could became in a monster bcs has saito blood, demon noya, and mahiru who possess him)  even could be kill in any moment from hiragi family and shinya knew it and could follow them and even so he didn't . She CHOOSE her own path for her own egoistic value point of view of life (as much as her family) , don't give me with the "thing" she hasn't other option to became in demon that is crap We all have our own behavior, unequivocal, not susceptible, nor vulnerable, even if it is the most submissive person in the world, nobody forces anything to anyone.              About Shinoa that she did care for her and did all what she could to protect her.. Then why she wants just go away with the "love of her life" and abandoned her sister, why let her alone, why used her like messenger, why let kureto tortured her? Why took her demon for power. She saw shinoa like a tool more on her plans, not bcs she care about, she even on manga wants shinoa became like her. She used shinoa as a shield to make atrocities with a lot of people. And that is care for shinoa? Saying she did all for shinoa when since child was already greedy as much at her family? She not even see values in others people life.       So my point is that demon thing about her bcs born with one ok valid but that make her a good girl when since child has evil intentions?  And even if she was possess when she had menstruation still was able to do things for her own free will she wasn't possess all the time she was conscious majority of the time( actually was conscious using the demon)  and use her demons when she need it bcs if the case is her influence and possession then the same is with guren he was able to not let possess he fight against that all the time and more he hate that part but she?  In novel when she shows that she care about others? That doesn't want to kill? And cry for herself not for hurt or kill others. She goes with the aren't other choices.  Lies there are manys ways to do things. She even say that life is useless so she doesn't give a crap about other people life. She wants to be a normal girl. Valid. But that give you the right bcs there aren't other choices to make genocide and don't give a crap about others life. Everybody wants a normal life in novel. Everyone. Even guren, even shinya but they did all what she did bcs there wasn't other choices? Even if she was a victim from her family. Why for 1200 years they enjoyed have power more than anything?  Why bcs were  manipulated from shikamadoiji? shijamadouji put their personalitys there? Is they want to get out of this bastard who controlled them why enjoy so much what his creator give them? Even if they were created to be used they love the power that someone else offer to them. They wants to be the kings or queens from the world. They have the hiragi pride. So how these people is victim when for years make so many genocide bcs love power more than anything. Guren, even if his destiny was mark, even has the blood of a crap bastard like saito, always fight against all of that, he didn't want any of this.(and you can see guren in novel and manga how much guilt and remorse feels and even is willing to let anybody kill him for his acts). Now her destiny was mark and a victim?  Good, valid, but in the end choose that bcs she want it that way all the time.  she is not a victim much less her family they choose follow the same path as his creator. We forget that kureto wants world dominations actually? We forget that  she doesn't  give a crap about the world? what about people they killed bcs is necessary for humankind? (Even guren on manga cried after what happened on nagoya that was mahiru plans and she did not care)  She wants that guren became exactly like her and he still having 24 is fighting and feel guilt about all what is happening but she?  Even being posses,  when she feel remorse about what she was doing?  Kureto don't feel remorse for what he is doing. Her family never feel remorse for what they did. Guren does all the time, he is scared.                                                        

People choose to be what they want to be regardless of where they come from .. people aren't forced to be nice or mean or evil .. they choose that path and will continue to walk it .. for those people who chose to walk the path of destruction with end with destruction until something in them changes but how often does that happen ... most people who has an impure heart tends to blame others around them then themselves cause its easier...people with shitty / horrible attitude tend to treat other people bad casue that's the way they are treated but with these people (mahiru and her family) who we are talking about is completely... she is evil from and already had a motive so she's completely out the question for any ethically or logical reasoning.

She is not a savoir. Kureto, mahiru and their family  don't feel nothing about kill people even if they get free that still going to be the same kill people and had them under their control, even if they kill the bastard shikamadouji you think they gonna became good like if shikamadouji would put their personality there? They still gonna make whatever they want with the world and people, shikamadoji is a monster a supernatural piece of crap but  is ridiculous think that mahiru or even kureto care for humanity even so guren still be an slave and everybody else. Shikamadouji is a horrible bastard selfish, egoist, monster but hiragis are equal as him. And even if she was alive and eliminate shikamadouji ( that is what she wants) she would be a good innocent girl that could be free having "what she loved the most" that was guren all for herself? . Do you think even so, she would let guren had friends and subordinates? When in novel she wants guren elimated all his family and friends. The only thing she wants from guren was that could make her free. She even said that if it wasn't bcs he is strong she would lost interest in him. Why kagami is saying that is not good or bad characters? Nonsense. Shikamadoji,  Hiragis and mostly of vampires, even without shikamadouji would be the most horrible humans and monster that could exist. Guren shows that he don't want any of what is happening and WANTS TO SAVE THE DAMN WORLD (yet he has to do it even he is scared bcs mahiru have him as prisoner and his family as hostages) kureto didn't care, much less her sister wouldn't care. Not shikamadoji. Not vampires. Not even hiragi family care. Mahiru, the human mahiru is as much as worse as her with demons and being a vampire all was her own free will, the same goes for her family. Shikamadouji is a shitty bastars that screw everybody life for pure egoist, selfish desire but they choose to follow their own selfish desires as much as his creator. We forget how hiragis use the word LOVE  to control other people, and how see love like lust to gain power?                                                                                

Victims here are all the people that shikamadouji, hiragis and vampires used, manipulate and killed over so many years to gain more and more power. even if "they were created to be used Aren't victims not even mahiru, kureto, tenri and sheishiro hiragi. They aren't saviors they just want to be free of their creator and even so they still would be the same shit as shikamadouji .

Selfish people often  mistakes selfishness for strength. It takes no talent. No intelligence. No self- control.and no effort to sacrifice other people for their ego.                                                                                                           The egoist is Fooled by no ideals. They discard them or used them as may suit their own interest.                                                                                    You can never force someone to change. Everyone is how they want to be, act as they want to act, lose what they want to lose.  

Guren ichinose is a good man, with so many flaws, and mistakes yet always is questionable about his actions but shitty characters like mahiru, tenri, kureto, shikamadoji, vampires, etc are not? Guren as much as shinya were victims from the same monster: mahiru. Shikamadoji. Hiragis. Bcs that is what they are. All of them are pure egoist, selfish and don't give a crap about the world or other people just about their own interest. Guren is trying to save the world he care about people and feel guilt, remorse, pain and suffering yet he has to deal with their shit bcs they are not to blame bcs were created for shikamadoji, i mean yeah this bastard is the worst but the rest are the same crap bcs always gonna blame others instead of themself how much hipocrasy they can show.? Even kagami trying to say on manga that hiragis are all good over the years and they are poor victims which is not. They have not redemtion bcs there isn't to any of them bcs shikamadoji is the big master. And where is the redemption? When even IF THIS BASTARD DIE, NOT HIRAGIS, NOT VAMPIRES, NOT GONNA CARE ABOUT A SINGLE LIFE THAT IT WASN'T THEMSELF. where is the people that suffered for them for all over the years, now bcs mahiru protect shinoa( wich is a lie bcs was other pawn) is a victim? Kureto and tenri are?  Guren is the only character that is trying to save the world even shinya wants to help. The rest are fighting for their onw selfishness but oh guren is a bastard that deserve to die. Which in reality The world would be better without hiragis, guren would be dealing with so many crap if it wasn't for the monster of mahiru. So every character is good except if it is guren and shinya right?