#I just want to sleep and be free from physical and mental pain

[calamitys-child]

I'm being so serious rn if I ever talk about doing another fringe festival run in the next like 3 years at least send me to fucking therapy. It is a cry for help. This is bad for me.

[sanarsi]

Sweet treat

perv!neighbor!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You came to your family home for a vacation. The obsession that is born in Joel pushes him to do very bad things. Warnings: +18, MDNI, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, PERV!Joel, stalking, hidden recording, hidden masturbation, obsessive!Joel, noncon, fingering, pussy eating, unprotected PIV, creampie, age gap (not specified), no-outbreak au Wordcount: 4,7k An: Hey, I’d like to ask you to read the warnings, because the content below may not be for everyone! One shot contains elements of stalking and obsession with reader(you). There is also a NON-CON sex scene. You read at your own risk! Enjoy! Music I worked with: THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Masterlist

The moment his eyes landed on you, the world spun.

Your eyes sparkled like two fireflies, catching the attention of predators. A wide smile was painted on your face, which made his heart beat faster. A white top hugged your breasts tightly, giving him a perfect view of your nipples. On top of that, sweatpants shorts that barely covered your butt.

And all this for free, first thing in the morning when like every day, he went out to check the mail.

But that day, he came home with such a hard cock that he stood in the shower for the next thirty minutes, coming twice.

At his age? Without the blue pill? It was like salvation.

And it was all because of you.

That day, you became his curse.

It started innocently. You went out for the mail at the same time as him. You always looked beautiful when you were sleepy. And Joel caught himself standing by the mailbox and just watching you. Like some kind of creep.

But he couldn't fight it.

He couldn't take his eyes off your body.

He didn't want to take his eyes off your body.

He stood there, letting his cock harden painfully in his pajama pants. All you had to do was come closer, and you could see the tent in his pants. But you never came.

You always smiled at him and waved, shouting "Good morning, Mr. Miller", in greeting.

You had such a sweet voice. Such a charming smile. And all he could do was nod, as always with a straight face.

All he had to do, was barely open his mouth and a moan would escape his throat. He couldn't stop it.

All you had to do was speak up, look in his direction, give him that beautiful smile, for his cock to quiver as if he was about to come.

It scared him.

It scared him how intensely he reacted to even the thought of you. It scared him that at his age, he had started cumming several times a day, as if he were a teenager again. Several times a day his cock was so hard he couldn't walk without feeling physical and mental pain. And every time he finished, your name would spill from his lips.

At first he felt awful. You were young, innocent, nice, and he was acting like a common pervert. He couldn't stop. He couldn't look at you like you were a normal person. He couldn't ignore you sunbathing in the garden.

It wasn't his fault that his bedroom window gave a perfect view of your garden. And it wasn't his fault that he was standing, hiding behind the wall, watching you smear sunscreen on your body. And it certainly wasn't his fault that his hand was pumping his hard cock until he came a second time against the wall.

Even at night he didn't get any peace from you. You haunted his dreams like an apparition. Your shiny eyes looking at him with desire. Your delicate lips entwining his cock. Your sweet tits rubbing against his skin.

Even in his dreams he couldn't rest.

Every day he woke up hard as a rock or coming in his sleep. In the worse case, his boxers leaked from warm cum.

He got up, lived, fell asleep and slept, and you were constantly in his head.

And that was for a few weeks. And the whole time he behaved like a common boor in your company.

He never returned your smile, didn't answer you, didn't wish you a nice day, nothing.

You saw him talking to other neighbors, how he talked to his daughter on the phone, how he talked to everyone except you. At first you thought he stopped liking you. After all, when you were younger, you played with his daughter, and everything was fine then. So what could have changed?

You matured.

You became a woman so tempting that his brain stopped working normally.

He stopped seeing anything wrong with spying on you spending a sunny day in the garden. There was nothing wrong with watching you get ready for bed in your own bedroom.

Everything about you stopped being wrong.

But everything started to get to him.

Going to work was such a big challenge that he installed several cameras in the house. Cameras perfectly positioned to spy on you. And he did it. Even while at work.

He watched on his phone how you hung up the laundry, sticking out your ass. How you dug through flowers, kneeling and showing your tits perfectly for the camera.

And he came.

In the car, in the bathroom, on his lunch break.

His balls were still full and seemed bottomless.

How could they be when he had so many treats before him?

He spent his evenings either watching you or watching videos of you. The hot tea had long since cooled down, standing on the table, waiting for Joel to take at least one sip.

But he was busy.

His pants were off his hips and his hard cock was in his hand. That was more important. The recording from this afternoon, when you were lying on the deckchair in the garden. But this time you weren't sunbathing. This time your hand was immersed in your shorts, when you shamelessly touched your cunt. The recording was without sound, but Joel could hear you moaning in his mind, arching your body in pleasure. He could only imagine how beautiful your singing sounded.

What a frenzy you could drive him to if he was home then…

Another growl echoed through the room as he squeezed his cock harder so as not to come too quickly. Your hand ran over your stomach to the tit that you squeezed. He shuddered again, demanding an orgasm. His balls squeezed painfully as your hand pushed aside the material of your bra, giving him a perfect view of your sweet tits. And that was enough to make him come with a hiss.

Hot cum began to drip down his fingers, but his cock refused to soften, oh no, he was still hard, the head furiously red, slowly turning blue. And Joel continued to squeeze it painfully at the base, as if the pain was bringing him any relief from all this.

The doorbell tore him out of his hypnosis.

The phone fell out of his hand as he jumped slightly in place. He cursed under his breath, bending down to pick up the device and quickly locked the phone, placing it on the table. He glanced over his shoulder towards the door, just as you looked through the small window next to you to see if anyone was home.

"Fuck," he said, terrified. His heart sped up and his eyes widened at the sight of your face blurred through the decorative glass.

In his haste, he let go of his cock and wiped his hand on the leg of his pants. Unfortunately for him, the cum had started to congeal so his hand was all sticky.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling his boxers and pants up over his hips. There was a knock on the door. "I'm coming!" he shouted, getting up from the sofa and fighting with his jammed zipper, heading towards the hallway.

Silently cursing under his breath, he straightened his crumpled shirt and opened the door, almost ripping it off its hinges. His gaze immediately fell on you and how you jumped scared on the spot. And your tits did the same.

Fuck.

"Mr. Miller, good morning," you said with a fast beating heart. Your wide smile and the way you looked at his face quickly caused another dose of cum after orgasm to fly into his cock. He clenched his jaw tighter seeing you reach out your hand towards him.

Why did you have to give him your right hand?

His own, tightened around the door handle. Silence fell between you which clearly indicated to you to take your hand away. You cleared your throat nervously, shifting your weight from one foot to another.

Nothing escaped his attention. You were stressed.

No wonder.

He acted as if he was at least possessed.

"I made a cake," you started with a crooked smile. Only then, he notice the tray of chocolate cake you were holding. "And I thought I would visit you. Is Sarah here?"

"She's not here," he replied more sharply than he intended. A shadow of disappointment crossed your face but you immediately hid it by smiling pleasantly.

"Then we can eat together," you suggested, looking at him with sparks of hope in your eyes.

The stain of moisture on his boxers was getting bigger and bigger. And all he wanted now was to slam the door before your face.

But he ended up moving aside to let you in.

A radiant smile immediately appeared on your lips when you walked past him. Your shoulder brushed against his and the sweet perfume intoxicated him so much that for a few long seconds he simply stood by the open door.

He made a big mistake by letting you into his home.

You entered the lion's den yourself, giving yourself to him on a plate.

Something dark flew through his eyes as he slowly closed the door and as quietly as he could, turned all the locks. His heart was beating like crazy in his chest as he stared at the dark wood. The sounds from the kitchen barely reached his mind.

While you were calmly preparing plates and forks, he was fighting with something animalistic that was being born in his chest.

But then your voice echoed off the walls. "Are you coming?"

Then he stopped fighting.

His heart slowed down, beating slowly and powerfully. He took a deep breath and straightened up, immediately getting bigger. A smile filled with evil appeared on his face.

"I'm coming," he said in a strong voice and slowly headed to the kitchen. You bustled around in every direction, putting a piece of cake on plates and in the meantime making coffee. "I see you still remember where everything is," he said lightly, watching the way your fingers wrapped around the crowd you were currently holding.

Your small fingers on his cock would look much better.

He wondered if you would be able to embrace him with one hand.

"I have the impression that there are things hidden here that you have no idea about," you joked, glancing at him over your shoulder. Joel snorted under his breath and sat down at the table.

He didn't take his eyes off you for even a moment. You looked so natural as you walked around his kitchen. He could get used to the sight. But his dick would need time. Because it was trembling painfully with every movement you made. He felt like it was torture sent to him for the evil he had committed.

But you didn't seem to notice how his eyes darkened the moment he looked at you. You didn't see how his gaze pierced your soul. You just sat down across from him with a sweet smile, handing him his coffee.

"Black without sugar and milk," you said proudly.

"Good girl," he praised you without even looking at the contents of the cup. You could pour him poison and he still wouldn't take his eyes off your face.

Joel noticed how a shadow of shyness passed through your eyes when you gave him a quick glance before taking a sip of your coffee.

"So... how are you?" you asked, starting to eat the cake.

And the next hour passed with you asking him questions and him answering them. For the entire hour he sat watching your lips wrap around the small fork, your tongue licking the coffee that was left on your bottom lip. And for the entire hour, his boxers were soaked.

His cock was leaking as if every word you said was pleasurable to him. His balls were swollen with arousal that couldn't escape. He was like a wild animal trapped in a cage, and before him was a juicy meal.

But eventually you ran out of questions too. An hour was enough for you to know everything that was going on in his life again. An hour was enough for you to eat a few pieces of cake and drink coffee when he had barely touched his first portion.

But you didn't seem to notice that either.

You were blind to the signs that should have let you know something was wrong.

You were blind to his madness.

"Can I use the bathroom?" you asked politely before getting up from the table. Joel just nodded and waited until you disappeared up the stairs before clearing the dishes from the table.

You walked through the hallway towards the bathroom and looking around, you could tell that nothing had changed here. Only more pictures had appeared on the walls. You stopped, looking with a smile at the picture of Sarah and Joel during her graduation. The perfect daughter with the perfect father.

You felt warm looking at the other photos until something caught your attention.

You glanced through the ajar door to Joel's bedroom and frowned noticing the camera standing next to the bed. You wouldn't have been interested if the camera wasn't pointed at something outside the window.

You glanced over your shoulder towards the stairs hearing Joel washing the dishes. You decided to quietly enter the room.

You looked around not noticing anything new. The same furniture and the same bed as before. You went to the window and looked out, noticing yours and his garden. Everything in perfect view.

You glanced at the camera and swallowed hard, realizing that it wasn't aimed at his garden. But you still decided to make sure because maybe you were just telling yourself something that wasn't there.

But when you glanced through the lens, your heart stopped in your throat.

You could now see the deckchair perfectly.

It was lying on which you sometimes lay naked and sometimes...

"Oh my god," you whispered, starting to tremble.

The sudden bang of the door closing almost gave you a heart attack.

You turned around with your eyes wide open and automatically took a step back when you noticed Joel. He leaned against the wall next to the door with a gentle smile.

He had to admit that in some situation you found yourself, he felt a slight amusement. You looked at him with such horror, as if he had at least killed your entire family.

And he was only innocently admiring your beauty.

"I see that there is nothing to hide anymore," he spoke first and bounced off the wall, slowly approaching you.

His step forward equaled your step back.

Until you finally hit the dresser.

"I won't hurt you, you know me," he said calmly, raising his hands a little to show that he had no bad intentions. But your back had long since been drenched in cold sweat and your brain told you to run away.

You glanced towards the door and back at him.

Joel knew immediately what that meant so he sighed quietly. He only had to close his eyes for a second and you were already running towards the exit.

But he was faster.

"Where are you going?" He grabbed you by the waist and easily pulled you to him, locking you in a tight embrace. You squealed, stiffening with fear when he started to surround you from every side.

He buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, and shivers ran through your whole body. You panted heavily, looking with fear at the door that was now beyond your reach.

"Easy, baby," he whispered gently, holding you tightly to his chest. But still, you tried.

You jerked.

Once, twice.

But he was stronger.

You tried again, but then a soft groan escaped his throat. You stiffened again, realizing something hard was digging into your ass. And then he pushed his hips towards you, grinding against you. Another moan disappeared into your shoulder and a wave of heat washed over you.

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he said pleadingly and hugged you tighter, once again rubbing against your ass. He couldn't stop his animalistic desire to grab you and possess you.

Maybe if you hadn't gone into his bedroom and found a camera, he would have let you leave.

But now he just couldn't.

He couldn't let you go.

"Joel, please," you cried in response to his next moan.

"I will please you," he assured, slowly sliding his hand down your stomach.

You shivered when he simultaneously tightened his hand on your breast and slid his fingers under your shorts and panties.

He laughed tenderly into your neck, moving lower until his entire hand covered your pussy.

"You shaved for me," he whispered, placing a kiss under your ear.

You pressed your lips together tightly, holding back a sigh. The blood in your veins began to boil from too much stimulation.

His fingers played hard with your soft breast, his lips placed soft kisses along your neck and his fingers collected the moisture that was constantly leaking from you.

Oh yes, you had shaved before coming to him. But you were expecting a different turn of events.

A movie night, a bottle of wine, maybe a little making out on the couch.

You definitely weren't prepared for THIS.

And suddenly his two fingers plunged into you. You shuddered and tightened around him.

"You so wet 'cause of fear?" he asked amused and bit your skin gently, slowly starting to fuck you with his fingers. Fear mixed with arousal that you couldn't fight. His fingers were thick and long and teased your oversensitive walls perfectly.

"Stop," you whispered in a breaking voice.

But just as his signs didn't reach you before, now your pleas didn't reach him.

He was hungry. He was so hungry that all he thought about was sinking his teeth into your flesh. His fingers slowly and skillfully began to cause unwanted effects in your body. Your clit throbbed dangerously and all the heat began to pool in your lower abdomen.

“Shhh, don’t fight me,” he whispered, tightening his arm around your breast.

Your own body betrayed you the moment your hips pushed themselves towards his hand to impale yourself more on his fingers. He immediately withdrew your hips with a quiet laugh of satisfaction. He held his hand tightly on your pubic mound and slowly dipped his fingers inside you.

He was delighted by the way your juices flowed over his skin, finally soaking into your panties. Your insides were soft and warm, making his cock leak at the thought of sinking inside you. Finally, you couldn't hold back a quiet moan as he curled his fingers inside you.

"I found it," he whispered with a wide smile in your ear and repeated the same motion again. Your knees buckled under you but he held you too tightly to let you fall. He buried his nose in your hair and focused on hitting your sweet spot.

You began to thrust your hips in rhythm with his fingers, grinding your ass against him at the same time. His moans began to mix with yours until you came, pressing harder into his chest. Joel rode you through your orgasm until you began to tremble from his touch.

Then he withdrew his soaked fingers from you and didn't mind running them over your clit before removing his hand from your panties.

He ran his nose down your neck, making you shiver. His arms tightened around you again, not giving you the chance to move.

"Don't run away from me," he whispered in a tone that sent cold sweat running down your spine.

You were so delicate, so fragile in his strong arms. He could crush you if he wanted to. He wouldn't even have to try to defeat you. That's why he really didn't want you to force him to do it.

He didn't want to hurt you.

He wanted you both to benefit from the situation that had arisen between you. It could fix everything. You could forget about how you found out about his obsession. You could create something amazing together. Something unique.

“Joel, please,” you whispered tearfully as he started to back away towards the bed. You couldn’t fight him. If you did, he would have easily picked you up and just thrown you where he wanted.

“I know baby,” he murmured, kissing your neck. “We’ll just check if it can fit in, okay?” he asked innocently, earning a sob from you in response. "Yeah, you're such a good girl."

Another sob escaped your throat before he pushed you hard onto the bed. You fell onto the mattress with a gasp and barely lifted your head before you felt him ripping your clothes off you. The cold hit your soaked cunt and you moaned uncontrollably.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and tried to move away from him, but he grabbed your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him. You howled pulling the sheet behind you and tried again but quickly froze in place when you felt his tongue on your clit.

Joel dipped between your thighs, licking your juices from your entire pussy. He licked every inch, letting you moan and press your face into the mattress. His tongue was big and warm, perfectly covering your entire hole and even better entering it.

You pushed your hips towards him, impaling yourself more on his tongue. A loud moan mixed with wet sounds as he licked your cunt. A second orgasm suddenly erupted in your belly. You whined like an animal, letting him take you all the way to the end. Your hole began to squeeze against his tongue, and he purred in satisfaction.

Drunk with pleasure, you didn't even notice the lack of his touch. And Joel was already unzipping his fly with trembling fingers. He took his cock out with a hiss.

He was hypersensitive even to a slight breath of air. He was furiously red and his veins pulsated along his entire length like mad. His balls ached like never before in his life, begging him to get rid of everything he had inside him.

And seeing your hole, tightening around nothing, took away the last of his control.

He pushed you onto the mattress and immediately pressed his whole body against you. You moaned feeling his weight on you.

"Let me in," he growled hungrily into your ear and only then, slowly positioned his cock at your entrance. He moaned feeling the moisture that had leaked out of you on his tip.

He had to enter you.

He had to.

"No, please," you sobbed, feeling panic take over your body. "I'm not on the pill."

But it was too late.

Joel entered you slowly, moaning loudly as he did so.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, overwhelmed by the feeling of your tight, wet, throbbing pussy wrapped around his cock.

He couldn’t even fight the orgasm that overcame him the moment his hips crashed into your ass. He began to pant heavily, his cock throbbing inside you, releasing more and more of his cum. The pleasure hurt, driving him into a daze.

Your sobs mixed with moans of pleasure. Joel was big. You felt him deep inside you, in places that had long since left your pussy.

When the first orgasm left his body, he looked at you lying limply under him, clenching your fists tightly on the sheets. And his cock was immediately ready to fight for another orgasm.

He pulled his hips back and thrust into you again, leaving you breathless. He slid his hands down your body and grabbed your ass tightly. A throaty groan caressed his ears as he spread your buttocks apart and began to watch his cock sink into your hole. It was all glistening with your juices, which were getting more and more every time you squeezed on him.

"Baby, this is such a beautiful view. Literally takes my breath away," he said in delight, making you whimper.

His cock slowly rubbed against your insides, drawing pleasure like a magnet. Your clit throbbed and your walls tightly embraced his entire length. A few tears soaked into the sheets, because he was too long. He would go all the way in, penetrating you like you were a fuck doll.

And then he would pull out, kissing the tip of your slit with his tip before sliding back in. And so on and so forth until all you did was cry out in pleasure. And as if that wasn't enough, Joel spat between your ass cheeks and began to massage your asshole with his thumb. You shivered at the feeling and he moaned in pleasure as you clenched around him tightly.

"You like it?" he asked with a smile and looked at the side of your face as you whimpered. That was all he could see. But it was enough for him to see the grimace of pleasure. The pleasure he was giving you. He.

This time Joel was savoring you. He slowed down every time he was close to coming. He kept his orgasm in check, afraid that he wouldn't be able to come a third time.

But every time he slowed down, he deprived you of it too. The game he was playing made you sob and cry more hot tears. You were helpless as he brought you to the edge of another orgasm and slowed you down again.

"Please, let me come!" you screamed in frustration. He looked at you in shock, feeling a strange tightening in his chest. And right after that, a proud smile spread across his lips.

"You will come just from my cock?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes!" you cried. "Yes, I will! Please!"

Joel looked at you, delighted by how tender and thirsty you were for his touch. His obsession didn't decrease. Every moan you made, every second he was inside you, every tear you shed, all of it made him want you even more. He was hungry.

So this time he thrust into you without stopping. Your moans mixed with his loud panting as he entered you over and over again. His hips clashed against your ass creating sounds that were mind-blowing.

He was no longer gentle.

He couldn't control himself as you begged for his cock.

As you begged him to bring you to orgasm.

"Yes yes yes," you whimpered, feeling as each of his movements slowly brought you to the very gates of hell. And when you came, Joel heard the most beautiful sound in his entire life and felt the strongest orgasm he had ever had.

Your pussy squeezed his cock tightly as it throbbed, cumming inside you. It froze both you and him, you could only experience the wave of pleasure that flowed through your bodies.

Panting heavily, he looked down at your limp body and experienced a shock, because he finally felt fulfilled. Finally, after so many weeks, he had experienced an orgasm that satisfied him enough. But despite this, his cock was still standing hard, buried deep inside you.

His hand slowly ran down your spine to the nape of your neck, as he slowly bent down, crushing you with his weight. But now it didn't bother you at all, it was actually pleasant. His nose began to run along your neck, cheek and ear, leaving wet kiss marks with his mouth behind it.

"I'll take care of you, I promise," he whispered with something dark in his voice.

And despite your tiredness, you knew you were fucked.

[herballwitch]

Connecting with Gods and Deities

Hello, My name is Alva Tauri! I am an herbalist, spirit worker, tarot and oracle reader, and lunar and herbal witch dedicated to closing the education gap when it comes to herbalism and witch practices!

Today, I wanted to talk about ways in which I connect with the Gods and deities I worship in my life, to aid new witches in this task in their day to day practice. I believe that we oftentimes overcomplicated this part of our practice and that can make this task seem overwhelming and daunting when, in reality, connection can be simple.

I want to gear this post towards my new witches who do not fully grasp the concept yet or don't yet have an altar, as well as my fellow neurodivergent, mentally ill, and/or chronically ill witches who may find this task daunting for other reasons (I.E. low physical, low mental energy, physical pain, etc.) A portion of this post will be dedicated to low energy ways to connect with your Gods and/or deities to make your practice a bit easier.

Let's get started!

Day to Day Connections

it can be difficult to remember to do rituals or sit at our altar intentionally in our busy lives. here are some tasks you can do within minutes every single day to connect with your Gods and/or deities - great for days that are hectic or with minimal free time:

light a candle and simply say thank you

offer the meal or snack that you made to them

offer your drink to them

bit them goodmorning and goodnight

thank them for the things you enjoy throughout your day

dedicate a cleaning task to them (I.E. vacuuming, doing laundry, etc.)

cleanse your space spiritually and dedicate that task to them (I.E. sage burning, incense, etc.)

Altar-less Connections

we were all new or closeted witches at one point in our lives. none of us started with an altar and a fancy set up with all the tools we needed. here are some ways that you can connect with your Gods and/or deities without an altar:

read about your Gods and/or deities myths and legends

spend some time meditating and simply thinking about them

wear their colors as symbols

make a digital offering to them online

write poetry for them

pray to them

make a playlist for them and listen to it

talk to them about your day (this can be in your head if you are closeted. you do not have to pray out loud for them to hear you. they are always with you and supporting you)

Low Energy Connections

for my fellow neurodivergent, chronically ill, and/or mentally ill witches, here is a section full of little ways you can connect with your Gods and/or deities on rough days that leave you with low mental or physical energy:

pray from the comfort of your bed (they will know you mean this with good intentions. they will not be offended. trust me.)

talk to them about your day

dedicate your self-care routine (no matter how short or long it is) to your Gods and/or deities

offer them your food or drink - this can be as simple as offering them a glass of water if that is all you have the energy to get in that moment

light a candle or incense in their honor (I recommend incense if you are feeling truly exhausted, as you can leaving it burning without any major repercussions, unlike a candle)

dedicate a moment of rest to them (I.E. sleeping, taking a nap, even just taking a moment to sit in silence and rest your body and mind)

make a playlist for them and listen

make a post or pinterest board in their honor

Advanced, More Time Consuming Methods of Connection

on days that you have the time and the energy and are feeling a calling to make a bigger grand gesture, here are some tasks I like to do at my altar. NOTE: you do not have to do these everyday or even every week. if you feel a calling to do this, then do. if you do not, then these are not required. remember, at the end of the day you know your relations with your Gods and/or deities better than anyone else. trust your gut and your intuition:

COMING SOON!

That's all for connections with your Gods and/or Deities! I hope that you found this helpful in your spiritual journey and I hope that you are able to apply this information to your practice.

if you have any questions regarding anything discussed here or anything you feel that I have missed, please send an ask to my ask box! I appreciate all comments and questions!

For more information on my practice, witchcraft, herbalism, spirit work, and divination please check out the guide on my page (linked here)! Everything I have ever posted can be found there!

I wish you all a blessed day filled with peace, endless wealth, and eternal health! Until the next time we meet!

[ssahotchnerr]

i rlly wanna see how aaron would react to reader accidentally starting her period and leaking on his white sheets. i just know he would be so caring and conforming !!

stains

he soooo would cw; fem!reader, period talk, blood mentions, language, fluff <33

Even on the weekends, Aaron doesn't tend to stray from routine.

Apart from setting an alarm - he presses a kiss to the first patch of your skin he can find, rolls out of bed, and then opens the blinds so the morning light can naturally assist in waking you. Trailing into the en-suite bathroom, he hears you let out a gentle squeak, stretching from your laid position in bed.

He preps his toothbrush, blinking once, twice, in attempt to rid the heavy sleep from his eyes. Brushing his teeth is number one on his morning agenda; not only because it was the hygienic thing to do, he simply could not stand having horrid breath.

Despite the brushing sounds echoing in his head, he doesn't miss your low,

"Shit."

"Honey?" His attempt to speak was muffled, as his toothbrush was in his mouth. He tilted back from the sink, just enough to allow him to peer into the room, to see you.

You were sat upright, a handful of sheets in hand, meeting his eyes guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry. It wasn't due for another three days and you know I'm typically always on schedule and always prepared-"

"Hm?" Freeing his mouth from the toothpaste, quickly flicking the water on/off to rid the residue and wiping his mouth with a washcloth, he re-entered his room.

As he came closer, your flushed cheeks were vividly noticeable, the remorse in your eyes even more intense. You clarified, "My period."

"Oh," his expression softened, before alternating to deep concern. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright? Aaron your bed-"

"What about it?"

"It's stained - the sheets. Fuck," you scrambled up, not wanting to ruin them further, wincing in pain as you did so. You quickly padded past him to the bathroom, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet. He followed behind.

"And? Sweetheart if you think I care about that," he chuckled, sweetly shaking his head. "Do you have...?"

"In my bag."

Feminine products - Aaron redirected himself, finding your overnight duffle tossed hastily near the foot of his dresser. As he rummaged through it, he mentally cursed himself for not already having a supply waiting under his sink, and mentally added such to his future shopping list.

He grabbed the other necessities - an extra pair of underwear, t-shirt, opting to grab your favorite pair of shorts from his drawer. One he hadn't worn in quite a while as you had claimed sole ownership.

You sheepishly accepted the items from him, refraining from lifting your gaze. "Thank you."

"Hey," With a finger he lifted your chin, causing you to meet his soft, brown eyes. "It's okay."

You shook your head in shame, prompting his hand to fall.

"It's your body. It's natural. It's- this is not an inconvenience to me, it is for you. Plus, this is exactly what they invented stain remover for."

Despite yourself you laughed, wrapping your arms around your middle. "I suppose."

The ends of Aaron's lips itched upwards, successful in his goal to crack a smile. Although, his amusement sobered back to concern, "You never answered my question from before. Are you alright?"

You grimaced. "Crampy."

"Advil then?" Aaron asked and you nodded. He placed his hand on your lower abdomen soothingly, the warmth of it calming your tensed muscle. That was the thing about his touch, it never failed to relieve any aches or discomfort, physical and emotional. "And a bath? I recall you saying that helps, with easing the pain."

"Please."

He quickly obtained the pain reliever, started the bath. "Don't worry about the sheets, I'll strip and get 'em in the wash. Hand me your clothes too." He ran his hand under the stream of water, regulating the temperature as you immediately began to protest, claiming, 'it was your mess, your doing,' but Aaron kindly shut you down, "Nope. Let me handle it, I insist."

"And if the stain doesn't come out?"

"I've been meaning to dispose of them anyway. They're getting old, they've fulfilled their job well." After flashing you a sympathetic smile Aaron stood, his age vaguely showing when his knees cracked as his legs straightened. He placed a kiss on your forehead, hoping to dissolve your current, growing pout. "Just relax."

You willingly met his eyes this time. You tousled his hair, still disheveled from sleep, paying extra attention to the short hairs behind his ears. Your nails scratched at his scalp, expressing your gratitude silently.

"And if it makes you feel any better, this isn't the first time I've had to soak blood from linens."

"It doesn't," you rolled your eyes at his injury-prone occupation, but he did however manage to pull yet another smile from you. A gentle laugh came from deep within his chest at your response. "But thank you."

[silverzoomies]

Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.

I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter

Pancakes

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding

word count: 2,762

a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!

Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.

But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.

Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.

He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.

Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.

Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.

And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.

Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.

He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.

But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.

Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.

You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.

And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.

The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.

It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.

You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.

Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.

“Oh, it is so on.”

“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.

His teasing continues without warning.

You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.

He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.

During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.

The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.

You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.

Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.

And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.

His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.

“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.

You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.

An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.

Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.

Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.

The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.

“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”

His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.

Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.

“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.” 

“Honey, no-”

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”

Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.

“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.

A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.

Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.

He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.

Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.

Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.

He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Pietro, honey, please-"

He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.

His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.

The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 

It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.

Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.

“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”

The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.

Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.

Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.

You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared. 

You’re goddamn beautiful.

[cleoluvrr]

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - I

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, choking, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide ,kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

rafe’s head weighed down your chest, tears soaking through your pajama shirt that left your skin feeling sticky from the salty substance. his large body was racked with sobs and while it may have made someone else feel pity for the boy, all you could feel was the uneasiness creeping up your spine.

he’d shown up randomly in the dead of night, the sound of his knock at your window leaving you filled with so much dread that you almost ignored the desperate tapping. the tall man stumbled in like a fawn, leaking blood from his flushed, teary face that left stains all over his shirt. as he came closer, the red scratch left behind from his father’s family ring was clear on his cheekbone, raised and pink from the irritation.

it was the second time that week he’d come over like this. the bruises from the last time had not even healed before being overlapped by fresh ones.

you weren’t sure why rafe and his father got into it so bad, so often; but it had taken a toll on you both mentally and physically for having to deal with the aftermath all on your own. 

after nursing his injuries and having him change into a spare shirt he’d left in your room, all you could do was allow him to cry into you. it was the only thing you had the energy to do, and there were no words you had to say to him to make him feel any better than he did now. 

so, here you sat with your back against the headboard, legs outstretched and weighed down by your boyfriend’s body as he buried his face into you chest to muffle the cries that he couldn’t stop from escaping. sleep was slowly creeping through your body, but you fought it off to pacify your aching lover’s pain.

“it’s okay,.” your voice was soft, the sweet sound vibrating against his ear drums. “you don’t need to cry, i’m right here.”

you continued to speak soothing words to him for what felt like an eternity before he finally began to calm down, his cries steadily reducing to erratic sniffle every few dozen seconds. your arms cradle his upper body as you gently rock side to side in both an effort to calm him and keep yourself awake.

a pair of puffy eyes stared back up at you as rafe pulled his face from its hiding spot. his face was tired, pink, and tear stained, though most of the salty fluid was thoroughly soaked into the tank top stretched across your chest that he used to cry into. you don’t complain about the less than comfortable way it sticks to your skin out of concern that it would only manage to further upset him.

“i’m sorry…” rafe’s voice was quiet and broken as he spoke, the strength of his sobs evident from the damage it left on his voice. 

“don’t be. you have nothing to be sorry for.” your head shakes at him in refusal. nimble fingers graze over his face gently as you wipe away the stray tears that continued to fall. 

“i didn’t mean to come over so late.” the pink of his tongue pokes out to moisten his chapped lips before it retreats. “i didn’t know what to do. i–i just really needed you, y/n.”

“i know, baby, i promise it's okay.” you look down at him with soft eyes, one that you pray display deep affection for the man and not the irritation you felt inching closer to the front. “you can come to me whenever; i always have time for you.”

it wasn’t a lie, exactly. if rafe wanted to see you then he would do it, whether you were busy or not. you had no free time, practically your entire life outside of school was dedicated to your relationship. going to a college on the mainland was completely out of the question, simply because rafe would never let it happen–he already hated the fact that you lived fifteen minutes away. you couldn’t count how many times he’d begged you to live in tannyhill with him, nor could you count how many times you’d said no. living four hours away in a different city where he couldn’t keep a constant eye on you, where you would be around thousands of guys, would never happen–in this lifetime or the next.

you had to go to a university nearby to take classes, one that was close enough to home that so wouldn’t have to leave. you rarely hung out with your friends alone because it offended your boyfriend if you spent too much time with them. ‘are they more important than i am?’ is what he would ask through gritted teeth whenever you made plans with them more than twice a week. 

that’s how much rafe controlled every aspect of your life.

the last time you tried to free yourself of it, rafe promised to kill you. so you’ve learned to accept it for your own safety. even if your entire life revolved around your boyfriend, you’d rather that than having it be taken from you.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you remained cautious in your inquiry, trying your best to be inoffensive as to prevent triggering him to anger or another crying fit. “it’s the second time this week you came over like this, baby…i’m worried.”

“my dad doesn’t think i deserve you, that’s what happened.” rafe chuckled dryly, head shaking as if he couldn’t believe his father would ever say something like that.

“what?” you brows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“my dad really likes you, y/n. more than he likes me, probably.” he releases another humorless snort. “he called me a, and i quote, ‘worthless leech of a son.’ he said that you were too good for me and that you would never stay with someone like me if you were as smart as he thought you were.”

you blinked at him as you processed the recounting of events. ward’s words towards rafe should never be uttered from a parent to their child, but he wasn't wrong.

rafe stole money from his father and misused their funds very regularly. he would spend it on drugs, alcohol, vehicles, and whatever else he felt like impulsive spending on–all the while he contributed nothing. it was something that you consistently scolded him for, especially when he would spend his father’s hard earned money on expensive gifts for you.

you would never call rafe worthless, but it would be a lie to say he’s not mooching off his father. however, every rich kid in kildare did the same thing to their parents, and his father definitely never worked to stop the behavior while he was younger.

as for you being too smart to stay with someone like rafe–you can’t say that you agree too much.

“don’t listen to him, rafe. no good father should ever say that to their child.” is what you settled on telling him instead.

“i know, what a piece of shit.” he shook his head, eyes rolling in annoyance as he retold the events of the night. you observed the faint appearance of a smirk on his face, the ghost of a smile barely visible but you couldn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips before he spoke again. “so i told him he’s just mad that my girl actually loves me, while my mom was smart enough to leave his ass.”

“rafe!”

“yeah, he didn’t like that very much.” the eyes that had lowered while he spoke flicked back up to watch yours. “he hit me with that big ass ring on and told me to leave, so i did.”

you tilted your head to the side, lip caught between the whiteness of your teeth.

what he shared was not out of the ordinary for the duo. what was out of the ordinary was the state in which rafe was in just a few minutes ago. typically he would just come over and let you dress his wounds before letting you play with his hair is silence, or listening to him call his father everything but a child of god in a rage-fueled rant. 

“and why were you crying? you can’t just show up like that, rafe…you scared me.” the boy in your arms sat silently for a moment before answering.

“its just…you’re in college now. i’ve made so many plans for our future but what if….you’re not gonna leave me, right?” rafe had worry set deep into his expression as he watched you process the question, his head shaking at you. “he was wrong, you’d never do that. you’re smart enough to know better.”

you were sure he heard you gulp after speaking the last sentence. you knew what he was implying, and he was right. ward was correct in saying that you were intelligent enough to know that staying with rafe was a terrible idea, but you were also smart enough to know that rafe would do anything and everything under the sun before letting you go.

“i’m not going anywhere, baby. don’t listen to him, he just wants to get under your skin.” it nearly made you sick to say it, but what choice did you really have? “i love you so, so much, and going to school isn’t going to change that. i’ve had a plan for my life way before i met you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t wanna make you a part of it. my future is my future, but i can’t see it without you there too.”

you meant what you said. you love rafe so, very deeply, and you would do almost anything to make him happy–within reason. rafe didn’t understand reason; rationality was not his forte. any reasonable person would understand that the waters would be tested once a high school relationship became an adult relationship, but rafe was not reasonable. any normal person knows that plans change as life goes on, but rafe was not normal.

maybe you would marry him one day. you might have his kids, be his trophy wife, and live in tannyhill, happily ever after. you knew that even if you went to college on the mainland, you wouldn’t leave rafe. that you would come back to kildare every chance you got and spend every spare second with him until you had to leave again.

even when he gave you hell, you still loved him with every bone in your body. 

rafe didn’t understand that, though, and that’s what led to your attempt at breaking it off with him. he degraded your lifelong goal, telling you that your relationship was more important that ‘some stupid degree’ could ever be. you supported him through everything, even when you thought it was the most idiotic thing someone could do, so his total disregard for something that you deeply cared for hurt you. 

the only reason rafe even let you go to school was because he’s terrified of losing you. not only physically, but emotionally. sure, he could threaten your life to make you stay and you’d listen out of fear. what he knew, however, is that he would lose you if he took your dream away from you. his leash was tight, but it was long enough to keep you satisfied.

rafe nodded at you in approval, seemingly satisfied enough with your answer to leave it alone.

he never wanted you to go to college in the first place. it was the only thing that you put your foot down on, but if it were up to him, the two of you would be getting married by spring.

he thought it was stupid–why do you need a degree or a job? why work when rafe was there to provide for you once he took over his dad’s company? he fought you long and hard about it for months, but you wouldn’t budge. you needed a safety net–you couldn’t let him take the most important thing in life taken away from you; knowledge. 

for you, knowledge was power. it was the closest thing you had to freedom. you knew that if you had a degree, it would be a safeguard in case things with rafe ever went south. deep down your boyfriend knew that, which is probably why he was so against it in the first place.

rafe knew his father was right, which is why he was in such a severe state of distress. he would never admit to that, however,

“are you just saying that because you’re scared?” your breath hitched at the sudden question and you were sure that you’d been caught.

“no! i mean it, seriously-”

“you’re smart to be scared, honestly.” he chuckled at you darkly, eyes glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. “i couldn’t live without you in my life, i love you too much. just thinking about you ever trying to leave me makes me so–so…sick. i need you more than anything. i would probably have to kill myself if you were gone, because i don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

you remained stoic. 

“and i couldn’t see you with anyone that isn’t me.” he stared at you for a heavy moment after saying it. the two of you both knew what he was hinting at, a look of understanding shared amongst the silence that overtook the room.

“rafe, my love…i don’t think that’s healthy.” the words left you in a soft, inoffensive tone. setting off the unstable man was the last thing you wanted to do. “you shouldn’t say things like that, its not funny..”

he shrugged at you, pushing your arms away from him and sitting upright. your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his soft lips against yours, body melting into him instinctively. it only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away abruptly, the feeling of his soft breath mixing with yours leaving you confused. 

the moment doesn’t stay on your mind any longer when he leans back in, lips meeting yours in a fervor. your skin feels flushed, face warm as the tingling feeling sets in from his skin on yours. rafe brought his hand up from its resting place on your thigh and attempts to wrap it around your neck like he usually does, but you pull it away haphazardly, hardly paying it any attention as you descend deeper into the kiss.

your own fingers reach up to play with his hair, a set of manicured nails gently scraping against the nape of his neck. you use it to pull him closer, the sound of lips smacking together filling the otherwise silent room along with your minorly labored breathing.

a warm, calloused hand slowly crawled up your side and landed on your throat once again, each finger slowly working to wrap around your neck in a firm grip. it was much tighter this time, and its grip strengthening faster than you could adjust. you reach up once more to pull it away, but he doesn’t let up.

“stop,” you pull away from him mid-kiss, your hand covering the pale one tightly wound around your neck. he doesn’t flinch at the sound of your demand, eyes low as he observes your increasingly frantic movements.

“what?” he asked.

rafe’s face was expressionless, the slight scrunch in his nose being the only giveaway of his sudden rise to anger. it was the silent rage that scared you, why you so carefully chose your words when speaking to him–because it would lead to moments like this. you weren’t even sure what you said to trigger him, but your rapidly decreasing airflow wouldn’t allow for you to think about it in depth.

“rafe, stop.” you repeat yourself. another hand reaches up to fight against his, nails scratching at the skin as they try to pull him off. the feeling had long passed being uncomfortable, and was encroaching on unbearable. “what’re you doing?” 

“what's wrong, baby…can’t breathe?” your boyfriend’s eyes furrowed with a look of faux concern, but you felt him stop holding back. he allowed the full weight of his strength onto you, biceps flexing as the tips of his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your throat. “huh?”

unable to answer verbally, you hummed quietly as you desperately tugged at him. despite your incessant squirming, that doesn’t deter him from returning his lips to yours. the kiss was sloppy, you were too focused on fighting for what little breath you had to return it fully, but rafe didn’t seem to care.  

he suckled at your bottom lip before nipping it with the sharpness of his teeth. he laved his tongue against yours, all but fucking your mouth the wet muscle. the sound of his soft, dark laughter reached your ears after he heard you whine against him. you were beginning to become lightheaded the longer rafe’s hand compressed your trachea mercilessly. 

he was allowing just enough room for you to not pass out from lack of air, but the finger against your jugular veins was preventing oxygen from reaching your brain.

leaving you with a few sporadic, wet pecks, he pulled away only slightly to observe your less than lively state. his lips were glistening with moisture, and you could feel spit dribbling down your own chin from your inability to swallow the saliva that had been gathering in your mouth. the blond’s face went stoic again and pulled you back to him, lips just barely brushing against yours.

“you see how i just had your life in my hands? how scared you felt knowing that i could’ve just crushed your throat if i wanted to?” the grip over your neck had finally loosened and you did your best to not pant against his face as your breathing steadied itself. 

you remained silent but rafe watched you expectantly, clearly awaiting an actual response and not the stupid, wide-eyed expression you carried. you nodded at him weakly, stray tears sliding down your face as you blinked your eyes clear of them.

“i’m not joking.” he whispered against your parted lips, eyes low and jaw clenching for just a second before speaking again. “i will fuck you up, and i mean that.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hiii! It's me :D

Anyways can I request a whitebeard pirates x fem child reader?

Reader is a clone of whitebeard having his haki and devil fruit ability (like the seraphims) basically reader is a little insane from being stuck in a lab

The reason why whitebeard has a clone because reader is a weapon for the Marines

Reader is a bit rude and a brat because she's scared of adults

Let's say back in marineford they tried forcing reader to fight back at whitebeard but whitebeard just scoop her up and took her back to the Moby dick (thatch, ace and whitebeard lives)

Reader has a brand on the back of her neck 'W. B CLONE' (whitebeard clone)

Reader also wear a pair of season earrings because she hated using her devil fruit abilities

So basically the whitebeard pirates are doing everything to get reader better because she suffered mental, emotional, and physical pain

(Can you also base reader of this? Reader is kinda base of my oc hehe)

Oh and reader has a sentient plush that listen to her commands and is mute

Don't forget to eat sleep and drink! Have a good day!

-Nobody knew why a child was on the battlefield at Marineford, one that looked like a little doll, holding a stuffed rabbit toy, dressed in a delicate looking dress with bows and lace.

-You were on the side of the marines, but you looked almost angry, like you were upset as the scientist beside you, your handler, shouted at you, “Attack them!!”

-The pirates were appalled, seeing a child soldier, one so young looking, being commanded.

-The scientist lifted his hand to strike you, to get you moving and the moment you flinched, Whitebeard’s giant fist slammed into his face, sending him flying.

-You could feel the pressure he was exerting, Haki from what you remembered as you were facing away from Whitebeard, seeing where the scientist landed, and Whitebeard saw the brand on the back of your neck.

-He had been hearing rumors that the government had been cloning strong pirates and marines, to create an unstoppable army. And this brand was something he had seen in the reports he had been receiving, realizing that you were a clone.

-You turned back, and you squeaked as he instantly scooped you up before leaping back to his ship, putting you safely on the figurehead, “Stay here. You’ll be safe.”

-You didn’t believe him, all your life, despite being so short, you had grown not to trust adults, they were the ones who beat you, who locked you up, starving you, forcing you to hurt others, and with it, your mind broke, becoming a bit unhinged.

-You did stay however, as you saw the scientists and marines who had been so mean to you, trying to get to the ship, telling you to come back to them.

-This was your chance to escape and finally be free!

-When Ace was freed and all pirates were retreating, you grabbed your rabbit, feeling a little scared as all the pirates made it back, including the giant man who grabbed you earlier.

-As you started to sail away, many were looking over at you, before you heard a sound, “Let’s go back Y/N~”

-You turned, seeing Kizaru there and your eyes went wide as you took a step back in slight fear, not wanting to go back to the lab, while the men behind you were ready to charge in.

-Kizaru ran for you, and you clenched your eyes shut, throwing a hand towards him in a slapping motion and instantly he hit a wall, being blown back, just like Whitebeard’s ability, making jaws drop as you sent Kizaru flying.

-Everyone turned to you, eyes wide in shock as you sniffled softly, tears trying to well in your eyes. You hated using your ability, if felt weird and it made you tired.

-Marco came over and you instantly bristled, “Stay back pineapple head!”

-Your sassy words stunned everyone as quickly everyone was roaring with laughter while Marco was trying not to be mad at you as he kneeled, “What is your name?”

-You immediately bit back, “What’s it to you?” okay… you were kind of a brat, but Whitebeard spoke next, “You don’t need to act like this any longer, you’re safe here.”

-You didn’t bite back to Whitebeard, who was looking down at you like you were a shy little rabbit, now knowing that you were his clone, as you had his abilities, and his white hair. You knew this as well, as you had seen him fighting, using the same ability you had.

-Whitebeard turned to all the others on the ship, “Everyone- this is my daughter and your new sister, Y/N!” the ship was quickly filled with cheers, and you felt weird, why were they so happy you were with them as you glared, “Who says I’m your daughter?”

-He ruffled your hair gently, surprising you as you were expecting to be hit, your eyes going wide, which some of them saw, making them curious, and angry, about what you had dealt with.

-Whitebeard just chuckled softly, seeing the front you were putting up, “I do- so let’s go on an adventure together!” You knew about adventures, reading about them in your picture books as tears quickly welled in your eyes.

-Ace came over with a teasing grin, “Aww is our little sister crying?” you instantly glared, holding your bunny up like you were going to beat him with it, “I’m not crying!” They just laughed, thinking you were cute.

-You still didn’t trust them yet, but so far, they were being nice to you and not hurting you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay with them for a while.

[ellecdc]

Hellooo, so I see you opened your requests 🥸 I am a new member of the The Marauders fandom and you have been my go to and all time favorite writer. First want to thank you for all the effort you must put in for us goblins. I am also very new to even really interacting on tumblr outside of the anonymous option. So hellooo! Any way onto the request if you ever feel like it, I get horrible migraines and to deal I tend to look really goofy with a compression cap and ice face mask on and during my recent episode I couldn’t help but think about how any of your lovey boys would react to their partner looking crazy with all that gear on 🙃. This is weirdly specific so ignore if it doesn’t sing for you. But thanks again for the art you share!❣️🌿

hi sweets! first of all: WELCOME TO THE MARAUDERS FANDOM!?!? please help yourself to any seat and don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have (there's a lot of complicated shipnames, canon vs. fanon theories to learn). second of all: OMG are you kidding me!? well thank you, that's quite an honour, but feel free to check out these authors I mentioned previously. thirdly: I love you little goblins 😭😭😭😭

also, since you didn't specify which marauders boy - I opted to give you all of the ones (that I write for) as headcanons 🫶

How various Marauders era boys would react to your migraine get-up

James Potter:

he'd open the door to the bedroom to find you laying there, prone in your pain

immediately "oh angel!!!!" causing you to wince in pain and shush him

he'd acquiesce but he'd whimper quietly as if your pain was causing him pain

he'd start flitting around the room: pulling the blackout curtains shut tightly, placing a glass of water and some pain meds beside you

you'd finally have to banish him from the room, though, on account of his various noises (poor dude couldn't manage silence if his life depended on it)

when you started to feel better, however, you'd take the sleep mask off but not the cap and head out to the living space to find James had closed every curtain in the whole flat, he had turned on a humidifier just on the off chance it helps relax you, and started a pot of tea for you

"I've got the hot pack here if you'd like me to warm it up for you?" he'd offer quietly, still looking particularly pained at your sorry state

"Can I just have a hug?" you'd ask pathetically and he'd coo (quietly) and embrace you gently as if you were about to break

"I'm sorry your partner looks so silly when you come home to them." you laughed, thinking about the ice/compression cap you were still wearing

"you've never looked more beautiful"

Sirius Black:

I believe he'd get very nervous to see someone in pain whether it be physically or mentally - but particularly a pain that was mental or internal (like a migraine vs a cut etc) because he wouldn't know how to fix it and he'd feel useless

He would whisper a cautious "hey baby" as he entered and move so slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible "what happened?"

he knows nothing happened, just that you're hurting: but again, he doesn't know how to fix this and he hates it

"What do you need?" he'd ask as he'd lie down cautiously beside you, itching to reach out but not knowing if it would be okay.

"Nothing." you'd mutter, and immediately feel bad for being short with him. "nothing, I'm sorry. just some time." you'd correct, reaching your hand tentatively across the space to touch his hand, which he'd quickly albeit gently take in his own

"okay." he'd say simply

you waited for the bed to move to signal his departure, but he never left.

he just laid there with your hand in his, watching you quietly

you wouldn't notice this in your state, but he was taking dramatic breaths for your benefit: deep breaths in, holding, and deep breaths out, silently encouraging you to align your breathing with his, which you did subconsciously

you'd wake up later in much the same way - him still on his side watching you (or perhaps he fell asleep too) and your hand still in his

he'd apologize to you as if your pain was somehow his fault, but it was because he felt helpless when you needed him

you'd thank him for his help and he'd relax immediately

Remus Lupin:

Remus is no friggen stranger to chronic pain and flare ups

he wouldn't even say anything, he'd just adjust his footing so he made as little noise as possible

he'd gently press a kiss to your shoulder, to make sure you knew he was here (though he knew with your head the way it was, you would have likely heard his keys all the way down the hall of the apartment building

he'd make himself busy in the flat - soup ready for when you woke up, tea ready to be brewed should you want some, lights off, curtains closed

he'd come by in a bit and quietly tell you to sit up, helping you replace your no longer cold ice mask and cap with new ones

you'd pathetically ask him if he would stay and he'd breathe out in relief because really - that's what he's wanted from the beginning

Regulus Black:

"what's this? what happened?" he'd ask urgently, thinking you'd been hurt or something

"sh! I have a migraine" you'd moan back.

he'd make a pitying tsk sound and make for you

totally babying behaviour "what do you need? do you want food? do you want more blankets? less blankets? a new watch? I'm going to order you a new watch"

you'd banish him from the room for the coddling and when you return to the living area later - he will be surrounded by bags because he had gone shopping and returned with the most ridiculous things: clothes, food, jewellery, blankets, pillows

"I didn't know what you might need." He'd say, slightly shy

"I needed a nap, Regulus." you'd laugh.

"well...you deserve all of this anyway."

and then he'd spend the rest of the evening doing low-impact stuff for your head. reading you a book quietly, gentle conversation, maybe run you a bath

bonus! Barty Crouch Jr:

"who did this?" he'd bark as he saw you in the fetal position with your gear on

"christ, Barty. please be quiet"

"what happened?" he'd demand, quieter but no less intense.

"I just have a migraine."

a switch would flip. he'd ready the room for you (curtains, quiet, water, pills, he'd set up a fan pointed at you.)

then he'd sit outside of the door to your flat and violently threaten anyone walking in the hallway if they make so much as a whisper of noise in this flats direction.

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 19 - The Betrayal)

5.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Din addresses the threat made against you the only way he knows how.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Established relationship, unprotected PiV, nicknames (pretty bird, baby, etc.) Angst, angsty angst. Additional warnings withheld to avoid spoilers.

A/N 1: I'm just going to upload this now instead of my usual Friday posting because it's been a doozy to edit and while I don't think I've quite achieved the emotional punch I wanted, I feel like not posting it is holding me back on the next chapters; TLDR - it's not perfect but please take this from me 🙏🏻🫣

A/N 2: I'm sorry.

Series Masterlist / Dividers by @saradika-graphics 😘

It’s been a hell of a week.  More than once, Din’s come home worn down with evidence of some type of altercation etched into his energy.  Whatever is happening with the Mandos these days, it’s different than before – whereas prior to Cass and Rikard’s wedding the toll that the unrest had taken on Din was mainly physical, these days the weight that Din carries on his ever tightening shoulders seems to be more of a mental burden.  He won’t talk to you about it and that alone leaves you anxious with worry for him. 

After what must have been only a temporary respite, months of simmering tension in Din’s world feels like it’s about to break into a boil at any moment and you just know that Din will be in the middle of it when it does.  One night, Din comes home with a nasty knife wound down his side and you have to fight back tears as you do your best to help him clean and patch up his wound.  When it’s clear that your amateur first aid skills won’t be enough, you call Lala who came over immediately and put her nursing degree to use, mending and healing what you could not.  After walking her down the stairs to her waiting cab, you had hugged your friend tightly, thanking her profusely for coming and helping Din.  The look of concern on her face finally breaks you and before you can help yourself, you're crying in her arms – you've never had anyone with whom to share your worry for Din before.  Your friends have seen you stressed over Din in the past, but this is the first time someone has seen evidence of the violence that’s the root behind your anxiety.  Selfishly, you feel a weight lifted off of you from not having to hide this part of your life with Din from your friends for once. 

Climbing the stairs and reciting to yourself the instructions Lala left on how to keep Din’s wound clean and infection-free, you suddenly wonder if Din might be angry with you for having brought in an “outsider”.  But your concerns turn out to be completely baseless, evaporating the moment you fluff the pillows behind Din’s head while trying to make him more comfortable – Din takes your hand and apologizes to you, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.”

“Sorry for what?  Getting hurt?”

“Sorry that I can’t keep this part of my life out of yours.”

Silly old man. “Din, there isn’t any part of your life that I don’t want in mine,” you try to smile at him reassuringly, but he’s already succumbing to the pain medication and drifting off to sleep.

Din doesn’t tell you about the threat made against you - he doesn’t want to scare you or have you living in fear.  He also doesn’t want to add to the anxiety he knows you already carry on his behalf, especially since he doesn’t have any answers right now - the investigation into the threats is not going as quickly as he’d like. 

He knows he's not being fair.  It’s all hands on deck right now - every Mando on the payroll put on protection and surveillance details to ensure that each photographed target has sufficient coverage, including you.  That only leaves a few bodies with enough time and know how to properly investigate the threats and chase down leads.  These things take time, patience, focus – Din knows that, but all he can think about is you and how every minute he hasn’t uncovered the culprit behind the threats is a minute you’re not safe.  It’s distracting him and making him sloppy – like the other night where he literally chased down a lead who ended up pulling a knife on him.

As far as Din’s concerned, even if he has a Mando watching you every second of the day (which just isn’t possible), until he makes headway in the investigation, you won’t be any safer.  He doesn’t tell you any of this - just lets it stew and eat him up.  But you know him so well and he can tell that you know he’s keeping something from you and that it hurts you.  Din had made you a promise a long time ago that even if he can’t tell you everything, he would never make you feel like he was purposefully keeping you in the dark – he knows he’s breaking that promise every day. 

Something has to give. 

Din knows this but he doesn’t know what.  He could tell you everything – you would have to live as you never have before, frightened and terrorized.  Would you blame him?  He already does.  Or he could try harder to pretend that nothing’s wrong – somehow this feels like lying to you and quite frankly, he doesn’t think he could manage it anyways.  What he really needs is a break to come in the case so he can take out whoever is behind this, but he has no concrete way of making this happen.  In lieu of that… he could remove the target over your head another way.  There are no good options.

Then, without warning one night, it hits him square in the jaw what the only option is. 

It’s near closing time at the gym, but there aren’t any people working out – just a Mandos gathering.  Paz leads the meeting which consists primarily of going over surveillance reports and handing out protective detail rotations.  The atmosphere isn’t relaxed by any stretch of the imagination, but nothing out of the ordinary has come up recently and if anything, the meeting is fairly routine.

Din is only half listening to the protection assignments, having already heard that Jimmy and Mayfeld are assigned to you this week, when out of the corner of his eye he sees Brian get a text and leave to make a call outside, but he never makes it past the front doors of the gym.

Even from a distance, Din can hear Brian’s girlfriend through the line; she’s upset, nearly hysterical, whatever Brian is saying to her completely masked by the sobs coming through the phone. 

Having been silenced by what they can’t help but overhear, the Mandos all watch as Brian returns hurriedly to talk to Paz, voice low while his girlfriend appears to stay on the line; Brian has his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone but her loud sniffling can still be heard through the ear piece of the receiver.  When Brian leaves, practically running out the door – Paz calls out for a few Mandos to follow with him, but not Din.

“You should go see Lil’ Lady, brother.”

“Why? What happened?” Din panics.

It wasn’t Paz’s intention to alarm his friend needlessly, realizing too late the folly of his words, “Brian’s girlfriend was being followed while she was out walking the dog.  Not even very discretely.  Two cars filled with guys won’t stop harassing her – she’s not close to home so we’re going to go deal with it.”

“While she was walking the dog?!” Din’s immediate thought goes to you and Al as Paz knew it would.

“Yeah.  We’ll go with Brian.  You go home, ‘kay brother?”

Din’s already packing up, ready to close up the gym and head to your place, the buzzing in his head drowns out anything Paz might be saying: “nothing to worry about” or “it’s not the same.”

It might as well be the same.  Brian’s girlfriend was walking the dog.  You walk the dog.  She was alone.  You walk Al alone.  She had been so very frightened – he could hear it over the phone, and his heart constricts painfully imagining that same current of fear in your voice.  She has a detail, of course, but apparently whoever had gone after her was willing to take the chance, or somehow knew when she would be alone, without Brian and when her security would be rotating off. 

The Mandos can only do so much – even with their efforts, none of the targets being protected are 100% safe 100% of the time.  As he drives, Din can’t help but replay the sound his brain conjures of what you might sound upon realizing you’re in danger, scared and crying out for his help.

By the time he pulls up to your building, he’s come to the only solution that’s viable in order to keep you safe.  The one that that increasingly loud, incessant voice in his head has been nattering about since he saw those photos of you.  With a heavy heart, he picks up his phone and dials a number that he hasn’t called in a long, long time.

For the past few days, Din’s been coming home earlier and you can tell he’s making an effort not to bring Mando business home with him.  While you appreciate it, you think you would much rather if he told you more about what was going on, or at least be less closed off with you.  Tonight, he comes home tonight with flowers and a big bag of take out from your favourite Thai place as a surprise – you know he’s trying to make up for his mood the last two weeks; his sweetness warms your heart – he’s shut you out a lot recently but you know he probably hasn’t meant to.  And while you don’t need him to apologize for it, you do need him to know he can open up to you about what’s troubling him – the two of you have come such a long way since the first time he told you about his connection to the Fetts; it seems silly to keep you in the dark so much after saying, in Din’s own words, that you were one of them.  Sitting down with your plates, you let Din know as much in a gentle and calming manner – you don’t want him to feel bad, you just want him to know you want to be there for him.

Din sighs, “I know, I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  I don’t mean to shut you out.  I… just don’t want any darkness to ever touch you.”

Leaving your plate behind, you climb into Din’s lap and run your hands through his soft curls, gently placing soft kisses to the corners of his mouth before cupping his face in your delicate hands and cradling it so he looks at you, “I know, baby… but I’m a big girl.  And I know that I have my big bad wolf to take care of me if things are too much.”

Din smiles and closes his eyes, feeling a tingle every place where the soft graze of your fingers touches his skin: his face, jaw, neck.  He could stay like this forever, just melting into your touch.

Nodding, he tells you what you need to hear, “Tomorrow night, I have to do something that I’m dreading.  But it needs to be done and I’m the only one who can do it.  But, pretty bird – if there was any other way, I would never entertain it.  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.  It consumes my every waking thought.  It will be one of the hardest and maybe worst things I’ve ever had to do – and I don’t even have any idea if it will even work.  I don’t think I’m at all prepared for what will happen after - I’m scared, baby.”

Din's telling you the truth.  Tomorrow, he’s leaving.  Tomorrow, you’ll hate him.  He doesn’t know how he will find the strength to go through with what he has planned - all he knows is that he has to.  He’s almost afraid to open his eyes – he knows that when he does, he’ll be met your understanding and unwavering sympathy for his plight; you always look at him with so much care, love and belief in his goodness.  His heart shatters at how much he’s going to betray that trust.

“Will you be in danger?” you ask, timidly – you won’t ask details because you don’t think Din will give you any, but you’ve never heard Din speak this way before.  Normally so fearless, it’s so unsettling to hear your big, strong warrior admit that he’s afraid.

His eyes forlorn, Din nods, “I wouldn’t rule it out, baby.  If things go a certain way, I’ll go back to my place to lay low, okay?  No matter what, I’ll call you before 9:00 to let you know I’m okay.”

Still holding his face in your hands, you study your sweet, brave Din’s face and try to convey with your own gentle expression that you believe in him, that everything will be alright.  He reads you perfectly and his chest tightens even more – no matter what, you always remain his biggest supporter, confident in his abilities and his decency.  His precious pretty bird.  He closes his eyes and inhales your sweet scent, a mix of your floral perfume and the nameless subtle scent that he associates with just you, as you flutter soft butterfly kisses all over his face and neck.

That night Din takes you to bed and makes love to you.  His loving gaze and hands try to memorize every line and curve of your figure; he kisses your lips swollen so they’ll imprint on his own.  Mentally, Din attempts to record every sigh and sound of pleasure that falls from your mouth, hoping he’s captured them properly so he’ll never forget them.

He makes you sing with his fingers and mouth, honouring every deep valley and cresting wave of your body and thanks you for allowing him the privilege of knowing it so intimately by touching the very deepest, loveliest parts of you.  He drinks from you like a parched man in a desert that knows what he’s found is a mirage, but it’s as good to a desperate man as an oasis, so he’ll have more than his fill while the fantasy lasts.  He gives you mind numbing pleasure and takes none for himself, hoping that every orgasm his gives you tonight will somehow lessen the hurt he’ll inflict tomorrow.  The less selfish part of him knows that it will actually hurt more, but he cannot regret devoting himself to you for just one more night.

When Din finally enters you, it’s with him positioned on top - pinning you beneath his formidable frame, caged in and safe.  He won’t take you any other way tonight.  He won’t look anywhere else tonight but your bright eyes, the ones that remain, for now, filled with adoration and love.  If there’s anything he swears to himself that he’ll remember, it’s these eyes.  They close whenever he steals your air by uncovering those secret parts of you that only he can reach, and snap open wide as you gasp to the sensation of Din dragging along your tight, warm walls.  Later, after he’s already pulled two from you, Din slowly thrusts, stretching and filling you so that you both feel every inch of his worship and he watches them fill with tears.  “I know, baby, I know,” he whispers, not sure if he’s reassuring you or himself as his kisses your wet cheeks. 

The final time you come, you do so in tandem, both you and Din crying out loud, unashamed, and desperate.  Collapsing on top of you, Din softly chants words of praise and love: ‘I love you’ ‘You’re perfect’ “There is no one for me but you’ timed to his still pulsing cock, trailing off only when the fluttering of you sated cunt subsides.

---

You wake some time in the night to the gentle movements of Din’s lips pressed into your hair, murmuring words that you don’t understand, either because they’re too quiet or because your brain isn’t quite awake enough.

“Din?” you mumble, still half asleep.

“Sorry, pretty bird,” Din gently pets your hair, “didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

Rolling so you’re now facing him, you gently extricate one of your arms from under the covers and run your fingers down the strong line of Din’s jaw, smiling softly at the way his scruff tickles your finger.  Din closes his eyes at your feather light touches.

“Can’t sleep because you’re worried about tomorrow, baby?”

Without opening his eyes, Din nods and leans into your hand, encourage you to give his face more of your soft scratching.  He’ll miss this. Your soothing touch. The way you read him and know his feelings sometimes better than he does himself. And, of course, your sweetness - how you take on his troubles as your own so he never feels alone, and honestly, just how much you care. You care so deeply, about him, about everything, and it tears Din’s heart out that soon your beautiful soul will be marred by what he has planned.

He opens his eyes to what he will forever insist is the most gorgeous sight his eyes will ever behold: you smiling lovingly at him, softened eyes full of fondness, confident that the man you’re gazing at adoringly cherishes you, one who deserves how you cherish him right back, “Whatever happens, Din, we’ll get through it.  Together.  But you should get some sleep, baby - you probably need to be well rested for tomorrow.”

He nods again, he’ll agree to anything you say so not to burden you will extra worry or concern.  Still taking care of him. Always caring for him. Fuck. You’re a heaven he never thought he would find.  Din mirrors your actions, stroking your cheek softly as you smile sleepily at him, his gentle actions doing what they intend - lulling you slowly back to sleep.

“You’re so pretty,” Din whispers, unable to string together something more eloquent; it’s beyond him right now to find the words expressive and articulate enough to describe the beauty he’s looking at.

No matter - your face glows at his compliment, “Thank you, baby. You always make me feel so pretty.”

“You are,” Din’s voice is indulgent and true.

“And you make me feel so safe.”

“You are,” his chest tightens a little at this sentiment.

“So loved,” your voice lilts up a little at this declaration, soaring above the notes of the words and its pretty melody makes Din's heart take flight.

“You are,” Din’s emotions nearly choking him now.

“And so happy,” the look on your sleepy face is tranquil, trusting, content.

“Oh, fuck, pretty bird.  You make me so happy, too,” Din’s voice cracks. It’s such an understatement, in some ways even derivative of how you actually make him feel and yet, not untrue - you make him deliriously happy.

“And loved?”

“Yes, baby, I feel loved,” he grins at the innocence in your voice, though he knows when it comes to the lyricism of your words, nothing you say is by chance.

“And safe?”

“Very safe.”

“And pretty?” and there it is: your silly, teasing grin - wide and self satisfied, like a Cheshire Cat.

Din gives you what you want, “Yes, I feel pretty.”

“You’re the prettiest, Din,” you yawn, eyes ready to close but still crinkled in mischief. Not for the first time he wonders at your playfulness and how you always manage to make laugh. He will miss these lighthearted, carefree moments with you the most, he thinks. Miss making you laugh right back. Oh, your laugh. He wishes there was someway he could record it, to have on hand and replay anytime he needed to lift his spirits.

“Ok, sweetheart. It’s clear you’re delirious.  Time for sleep,” he nuzzles his nose against your neck as you giggle.

“Nope, I’m going to remember every word of this tomorrow morning, pretty man,” you insist, though your languid, sinking body belies the conviction in your tone.

Once he hears your soft, sleepy purrs, Din resumes what he was doing before you woke.  He certainly was not sleeping; he won’t let any of these last remaining moments he has with you go to waste.  Instead, he contents himself just watching you sleep in peace, admiring your beautiful features, unable give them up for even a minute more than he has to - not when he knows that this is the last night he has with you in his arms. 

And so, he appreciates as much of you for as long as he can - soaking in your presence and the warmth of your lithe body against his, feeling your soft calm breaths as your chest rises and falls in your worry free sleep.  He murmuringly declares all his love, devotion and regrets, knowing he will never have a chance to speak these truths directly to your face; so like a coward, he pours them out now, hoping something within you will hear him and always know how deeply he cares for you.  And how very, very sorry he is.  He admires your loveliness for as long as he can, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to the woman he loves until he’s overtaken by exhaustion.

How long is too long?  This is the question you ask yourself at half past 9:00 pm.  When you last saw Din, kissing him goodbye this morning as you left for work, he had reassured you again that he would be careful today and he would check in by nine o'clock.

It’s been an entire day of trying to keep your mind off what Din is doing and failing miserably.  You can’t get the image of your strong hulk of a man - the fighter, the protector - looking so unsure of himself, beaten, frightened.  Anxiously you’ve been awaiting his call all evening, fidgeting and unable to sit still or focus on any task that you attempt to pick up for a distraction.

Is he hurt?

This fear plagues your thoughts starting at 8:00 pm and only intensifies as time ticks by. 

“Fuck it,” you say to Al at 10:00 pm, “I’ll take you for a walk when I get back, ok bud?”  Al looks at you as if to say ‘It’s about time, Lady’ before laying his head back down for a nap that will thankfully be undisturbed by your restlessness.

You fret the entire cab ride to Mando’s, but mercifully, it’s quick.  About to put your key in the lock, it strikes you that it might be a good idea to exercise some caution, so instead, you knock softly.  Worried when Din doesn’t answer right away, you say quietly through the door, “Din, it’s me.  Are you there?  Are you hurt?”

To your relief, you hear the lock start to turn; but when the door finally opens, your stomach drops. 

It’s not Din. 

Instead, Vanessa stands on the other side of the door, half naked - wearing only her underwear and one of Din’s button-up shirts.  You look at each other in silence for what feels like forever; your mind feels foggy, unfocused, but you think you perceive a small smile on her lips.  With every second that passes, the strangling pressure on your heart grows stronger, smothering every loud beat.  Finally, you find your voice, “Is Din here?”

And suddenly he is.  Visible from the doorway and standing only a few steps behind Vanessa, Din’s shirtless and his pants are unbuttoned, as if he had pulled them on in a hurry.  He can’t quite make eye contact with you, and in this moment, any hope that you might have had that this isn’t what it looks like, vanishes. 

Vanessa turns and steps towards Din - as she is about to pass him, she stops at this shoulder and says, loudly, “When you’re done, come back to bed, baby.” Cupping the far side of his face, she pulls him towards her, planting a kiss to the corner of his mouth before she walks off in the direction of the bedroom.

You look away and try to swallow the sob that's trying to claw its way out of your throat.  Din is coming towards you now and instinctively, you back away.  This is not your Din.  Not the Din who always leaves you the last bit of milk for your morning coffee.  Not the Din who holds his hands over your eyes during scary movies, but narrates for you what’s happening because he knows you still want to know.  Not the Din who pledged his love and loyalty to you.  Not your Din.  But your Din is a lie. You think you're going to be sick.

Din watches as you shrink away from him and his heart shatters.  He knows with certainty that he’s lost you.  Yes, this is what he planned for; he needed you to no longer be his. If you weren't his, there would be no incentive for anyone to target you - but seeing you so hurt and being the one to hurt you is more agonizing than he could have prepared for.

He shuts the door so that it’s just the two of you standing in silence in the hall.  Willing yourself to look up, you stare at Din directly, “I came tonight because… I thought you might be hurt.” 

I know, baby, Din laments, I knew you would.  Because you’re considerate and all kindness.  And I leveraged your goodness like a weapon and used it against you.

You pause, still trying to reconcile what you’ve stumbled upon and what you’ve believed up until tonight to be the essence of the man you love.  Didn’t Din assure you that Mandos never cheat?  That he has never and would never?  That you were enough for him?  As if to give him one last chance to somehow offer an explanation that your brain couldn’t conjure up on its own, you continue in a smaller voice, “Just last night you were telling me how happy I make you,” your eyes desperately search his, “How could you do this?”

You do, pretty bird.  You make me so very happy.  Din looks at you with a resigned expression, “I told you… I’m not a good guy.”

You don’t know what you expected – a denial maybe?  Some attempt by Din to comfort you?  An acknowledgement of how he’s betraying a year long relationship that had been one of the happiest of your life?  Somehow this stoic non-response stings just as much as the cheating. 

“No. You’re not,” you whisper.

Din can only look at you sadly, eyes downcast in shame.  No, I’m not, pretty bird.  Finally.  You acknowledge the very truth that Din’s been running from since he met you.  You and your goodness had almost convinced him that despite the things he’s done in the past, or what his connections and ties are, he might be good too - good enough for you.  But a man worthy of you wouldn’t place you in danger just by association; the man you deserve would never betray your sweetness or belief in him by leading you into darkness without your knowledge.

“… you’re an asshole.”

“I am.  I’m sorry.”  It’s the most truth he can offer you tonight.

The tears are coming now and there isn’t anything you can do to stop them.  Your body is screaming at you to leave, to get yourself far away from Din and the flaming wreckage of what you thought was a true and deep love - one you had given all of yourself to and for which you were now left with only questions that you know will never be answered.  “I never want to see you again,” you manage to choke out.

Din is grateful for the small grace that he won’t have to lie to you again.  “You won’t.  I promise,” he whispers, devastated.

And with that, you turn and flee.

---

Din stays standing on the landing until he hears the downstairs door slam; you never turned around and he is suddenly very aware that he will never look upon your face again.  The realization hits him with a force the tips him against his door; he closes his wet eyes and rests there for a minute before going back into his apartment.  When he turns from closing his door, he finds Vanessa standing in the living room, looking at him expectantly.

“Well?”

Din sighs. “Well, what?”

“Is it done?”

Is what done? Is he done breaking the heart of the only woman he’s ever truly loved?  Is he done ruining the best thing that’s happened to him a long time?  Destroying something that’s brought a light to his life he never thought was possible?  He supposes it is done.

Din sighs and nods.  He’s not unappreciative of Vanessa’s help, but she represents everything he’s broken tonight, “Thank you for your help, Vanessa.  Do you need a ride? I can drop you off on my way.”

Vanessa smiles coyly, “Right now?  I thought we could…” she lets her voice trail off, looking eagerly at Din.  But when he remains unmoved, face dispassionate and detached, she takes the more direct route, “I mean, she already thinks we had sex.  We might as well actually have sex.”

Din doesn’t have any fight left in him; he just needs tonight to be over, “I don’t think we can do that, Vanessa.  I have to go, are you sure I can’t offer you a ride?”

She dresses as she gathers her things, annoyed, “Where do you have to go?  Are you going after her?”  Hands on her hips, she looks at him in disbelief, “Din. She hates you.”

“I know she does.  But I still want to make sure she makes it home okay.”

Exasperated, Vanessa storms past Din and out the door, ignoring his offer of a ride and for the second time in ten minutes, Din hears his downstairs door slamming closed. 

---

Din expects you make it to your apartment before him, but he has enough time to park his truck and find a spot where he won’t be seen before he sees you come downstairs with Al.  Your pretty face is ashen and a look of shock is still written on your face.  With a lump in his throat, he watches you let Al do his business and the ensuing tug of war between you and your dog, both intent on going in opposite directions.

His chest aches when he hears you cry as you kneel down, “I’m sorry buddy, I can’t take you for a long walk tonight.  I’m sorry.”

Your sweet pup shows you the compassion and care that Din can’t offer you, allowing you to lead him back into the building without further fuss.

Din stands on the sidewalk, looking up at your apartment far into the night.  He experiences a sinking sensation of déjà vu, remembering the last time he was in this position – when he ended things with you after your third date.  What a fool he is, letting go of his perfect match twice; the finality of his actions this time leaves no hope in his chest.  And so, Din remains rooted where he stands, not moving even when his legs start to protest; he barely registers your security detail coming over to check on him.  Jimmy’s calls of his name or questions as to what happened are unable to cut through the dull droning in Din’s head of his own failings.  Called in by an panicked Mayfeld, Paz arrives a short while later; upon seeing Din’s near catatonic state, he intuits with disbelief what Din did tonight.  With some difficulty, Paz draws Din away and back towards his vehicle – Din never even hears his best friend’s insistent whispers that things will be okay and that they have to go.  His head is filled only with you and a sad recitation that drowns out all other voices: I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

Bc I'm not posting on my usual day, tagging a few people that have been so patient with me and supported this series. Ty ilysm 🥹 @tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

[lass-us-slay]

Alr so I was watching edits and came across Arlecchino and an idea popped into my head!

Danny Phantom as Arlecchino in DC also know as: Phantom the Knave Sovereign

(Still working on the name- Before we start I wanna say, I’m just trouble shooting rn and seeing what new ideas I could add with your guys input too. But so far this is what I have)

———

Ok so plot points:

Somehow Pariah Dark gets free of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, either because of Vlad or the Observants

Pariah seeing potential in Danny (and cause he was already dubbed to take Pariahs place after he was old enough) starts trying to become Danny’s parental model (much like Vlad. But Worse.)

It was annoying at first, but slowly over time, Pariah started taking his role as Danny’s “Father” too far and twisted. Wanting to make Danny strong, stronger than he ever will be.

Then one thing leads to another and an identity reveal happens. Except the Fentons now pretend Danny Fenton no longer exists, and it’s just Danny Phantom that is an after image of their boy. Which pains them so they keep their distance, but still help what they think is left of their boy.

Danny is sad about that- but he has his sister Jazz and his two best friends! He can live with his parents pretending he doesn’t exist, atleast not as Danny Fenton no he can’t- he really can’t-

Then shit hits the fan, resulting in Danny’s home dimension into imploding into itself. (Which may or may not be the fault of Pariah Dark)

Luckily Danny is able to get out with Jazz!

But he’s too angry to rationalize himself after the death of his Haunt and almost all his fraid dying. He attacks and attacks Pariah and observers and whoever that threatens his last family at every turn.

More shit hits the fan, resulting in Danny getting cursed, which really hurts Danny. Enough to do weird ghost shenanigans to his biology, (via curse), and Jazz gets caught up.

Pariah sees a golden opportunity to use this to get Danny stronger to become the next king.

But Clockwork has had enough and steps in. Only to be promptly sealed away by the still acting king; Pariah Dark. Which Danny not even knowing as he’s out for the count thanks to the curse. (Jazz is the only witness. But Pariah can’t kill her because of Danny.)

More stuff happens and now Pariah is the acting Father of Danny and Jazz (with amnesia) who are in a ghost normal(?) orphanage with other kids.

Basically Arlecchino’s childhood happens to Danny and Jazz. Just that Pariah has decided to false make Jazz his “bio” kid to mentally fuck with Danny (smol child, and poor Jazz).

Danny still sees Jazz as his sis even if he doesn’t remember

After Jazz sadly doesn’t make it, Danny faces off Pariah once more for the first time. And consumes Pariahs Core into his, eating him alive so no more Pariah for the rest or eternity.

Then remembers- holy shit his names Danny! Not Peruere, which ew- (kidding I love the name-)

Anyways Danny gets mad at Clockwork only to find him sealed and the timelines fucked- and with Clockwork being so weak since the seal-ment, it’s up to Danny to fix the mess (and the one that was caused by the Observants once more with no one on the throne)

And so now Danny travels around timelines, picking up strays and adopting them (much like Batman, but better)

That there is the rough outline of the story!! I probably will make more but I just need to organize my thoughts before going into finer things (and art!)

Also I’d like to mention- while in the orphanage, Danny’s human side takes on more physical characteristics of his ghost form. Sorta merging the two forms into one? Not sure about it.

But Danny’s human form has definitely changed, and the curse is the same as Arlecchinos from Genshin (although would be nice if someone actually explained the curse to me fully- cause I don’t get it at all 😭)

Anyways that’s it- im thinking about interactions with the kids Danny Adopts and such but that’s for another time 💀

Aight peace ✌️

[graveyardcuddles]

Some rambling personal thoughts on Astarion's endings since I can't sleep.

I find myself really loving Astarion's spawn endings and ALL of their variations even more the more I think about them (the exception ofc being the cursed af endings where you don't help him AT ALL and he either gets turned into a zombie or is still being hunted by cazador even after the game, but I'm obviously not talking about those).

I think I, like many others who grew very attached to his character, were left feeling very torn over his initial spawn ending before the added epilogue. Because Astarion being free from cazador and learning to truly relish in that freedom AND use it towards more positive ends is the entire point of his spawn endings. But we don't really get the chance to see that fully paid off in the narrative. One could argue that we do see the very beginnings of it with the graveyard scene and the morning after scene and how he makes several comments about never being a slave again after he kills cazador. But then we get a rather painful reminder of the fact that he's still been forced to give up something he's come to love and cherish so much over the course of your journey. And then we just kinda end on that note.

I definitely didn't regret keeping Astarion a spawn, even after that. But I will admit there was a part of me that still really wanted to see more for him. And that's why I really do adore the epilogue. I know people have their issues with it and say it's unrealistic for Astarion to be so "healed" after only 6 months but I disagree with this take because we're literally only seeing a glimpse of him on one really good, happy night, it's not necessarily a reflection of how he usually is. He could very well still be having days where he struggles, and he almost certainly does. But comparing his previous 200 years to his possible (good) spawn endings, it's not really surprising that he's thriving. Same with the "counterweight" comment. He's not saying the 6 months you've been together completely negates and erases the 200 years of torture. He's saying his freedom and your love have been such a HUGE contrast to what he's had to live through for so long that they feel like a counterweight to the horrors.

I think about how far he has to come for him to actually get to those endings. His bounty hunter/adventurer ending? Amazing! He's relishing in violence and living his best rouge life. Leading the spawn in the Underdark? Speaks so much to his character development that he actually cares enough about them to even attempt such a massive undertaking. Lots of potential for healing of course but also: Holy shit the potential for unhinged shenanigans as well. Going to the hells with Karlach? Incredible! He's not just getting to enjoy tearing up cambions all day he's devoted to Karlach and helping her it's literally so beautiful.

Something else I really adore about his spawn ending vs. his ascended ending is that he burns down cazador's palace in his spawn ending. Burns it to the ground and destroys it for good. Whereas ascended Astarion literally moves into the palace and like...sure you can headcanon that maybe he eventually has a new, even grander palace built. But the mental image of Astarion wandering those halls is just so fucking sad to think about. He could go anywhere and do anything but he's still physically occupying the space that hosted so many horrors and tortures for him. And it to me that just screams that he's still there mentally.

I'll always defend people who like the ascended ending because I understand the appeal of it. As a dark romance enjoyer, I very much understand the appeal of the dark consort ending. And I don't even think this is the "worst" ending for Astarion because there's at least still potential for him (as opposed to the endings where he dies or is still being hunted, which ARE the worst endings for him). But it does feel like a step backward for him. And I think the people who go "Well this is just NATURAL character progression for him he's selfish af of course he would want this" Think too little of him or at least underestimate his capacity to care for others.

Because he very obviously DOES care. And allowing him to get to a place where he can foster that sense of compassion for others is truly so beautiful and so profound to see. I'm someone who is easily moved by fiction already but Astarion's story really touches my heart just because of how rewarding it is to see how far he comes in those endings.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Rise : Chapter Eighteen

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.9k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | MASTERLIST | FINALE

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

IMPORTANT NOTE*: final warning to those on my taglist. if you do not interact with this post within 24 hours after not interacting with the hella fuckin' Rafe Cameron oneshots i posted last week, you will be removed. i do not like being strict but i am not asking for a lot. if you've been interacting then this message is not for you. but if you haven't been... i'm sorry. you will be removed.

            You didn’t stop running until it started to get dark. You headed south, like you & Bear planned, but wasn’t stupid enough to think you had pulled one over on Rafe. Micah was a damn good tracker, they would see that you took off in the opposite direction you led them in. You knew you couldn’t outrun them forever, especially with the physical pain you were in, but you would be damned if you didn’t try your hardest. You were convinced that if you could get far enough, that it’d be just out of reach of Rafe’s clutches & then you’d be free.

            More importantly, you hoped to run into Bear. The forest you were running through was never-ending though. For miles in either direction you’d only find more forestry. That worked in your favor though. The furthest away you were from civilization the better. Rafe would anticipate you looking for shelter. But you had a backpack full of survival goods. There was no tent or sleeping bag but you’d make do. You’d learn how to survive on your own in the woods, at least until you found Bear.

            By the time you stopped running, the sky above the trees was turning into a dark blue. The trees were growing denser with darkness. Traveling any further would be a risk but you couldn’t risk being found. However, you had to at least slow down. You swore to yourself that you wouldn’t stop moving until you crossed the border into South Carolina, exhaustion be damned.

            But your body had other plans. Your back was aching, the wounds having opened up in your attack against Adrianna. Your feet were sore as well from running for so long. You could feel yourself growing weaker as you walked, your limbs carrying you slowly. Whether you wanted to or not, you’d have to stop & get some rest.

            You peered into the darkness until you found some thick foliage that would make do for some cover. You fell to your knees & crawled into the brush. You ignored your minor fears of snakes & spiders, as there were bigger, scarier things to fear now. You tucked your feet in so they wouldn’t be exposed & shoved your backpack into a small crevasse where you could lay your head. After you felt you would get as comfortable & as safe as possible, you kept your knife & gun right beside you.

            The sounds of the forest sung around you. Cicadas, a light breeze rustling the treetops, a nearby creek with trickling water. You allowed your eyes to flutter clothes as you laid on your stomach, desperate to fall asleep & perhaps wake to a better world.

            Something kicked your foot & you shot your eyes open. Having forgotten you were sleeping within foliage, your head became covered in leaves, sticks, & who knows what else. Another kick & you gasped. Peering through the leaves of where you hid, you could see someone standing outside your hiding spot, your ankle exposed for all to see.

            It was daytime. You scrambled to grab your gun & knife but they were nowhere near you.

            “Out.” A man’s voice sounded, “Hands first then the rest o’ya.”

            Gulping you strained to see as much as the stranger as you could but your hiding spot had done too good a job of shielding other from your point of view.

            “Out!” The voice yelled, “Or I start shooting.”

            “Okay!” You finally responded, “Okay, don’t shoot, I’m coming out.”

            Getting to your knees, & wincing at the stinging stiffness of your back, you pushed your hands through the foliage so the stranger could see them. You slowly crawled forward until you were completely out of the brush & on your knees before the stranger.

            Your eyes squinted at the change in brightness. You shielded your eyes from the sun so you could glance up at the man before you.

            He was gruff looking, like a nomad. His clothes were layered & blended well with the forest around you. He had a full beard that was thick with many gray hairs & a wool cap on his head. His brows were in a frown as he glared down at you warily. And it was only then that you noticed he was pointing a bow & arrow at you. You gulped, your eyes staring wide-eyed at the nomad’s weapon.

            “Whose blood is that?” He questioned, aiming his bow at your chest.

            You followed his line of sight. Your white top was caked in Adrianna’s blood, along with earthen residue from your sleepover in the foliage.

            You eyes met his again, fearful of what he would do to you.

            “I won’t ask again, young lady.”

            “It’s…” Your voice was hoarse & you frowned, clearing it, “Someone who was trying to kill me.”

            “Did they have good reason to?”

            That made you shake. What kind of question was that?

            “No.” You ultimately responded.

            “Why were they trying to kill you?”

            “Because…” You pressed your lips together in thought, sure that any answer you’d give would only prolong your inevitable death. “Because I was trying to escape.”

            The man eyed you from being his bow & arrow, “Where you escape from?”

            “A hell-hole.” You returned, shaking your head in disbelief.

            Running from Rafe was the best thing you could do for yourself, but you only ran into more trouble. Perhaps, into someone worse, though you didn’t think anyone could be worse than Rafe.

            A branch snapped from behind you & you whipped your head around, panic gripping your heart. But your heart slowed as you took in the appearance of a young woman, maybe high school age, appear from behind a tree.

            “Goddamnit!” The man hissed from behind you, “I told you to stay hidden until I got to the bottom of this.”

            Your eyes flickered between the two & you watched in curiosity as the young girl began signing to the man with her hands. She pointed at you, a frown on her face as she spoke without words.

            The man grunted & sighed, stealing your attention once more.

            “You hurt?” He questioned, gesturing to something behind you. But when you glanced back you were confused at what he was gesturing to you.

            “Your back.”

            “Oh.” You blindly reached towards your back but the man raised his bow higher.

            “Don’t!”

            “I—I don’t have anything on me, I swear. I did—a gun & knife—but I don’t know where they are.”

            “I have them.” He admitted, “Now, are you hurt?”

            “Yes.” You breathed out.

            The man’s eyes flicked to the young girl behind you, nodding.

            “My daughter.” He told you as you heard & felt the young girl approach, “She can take a look for you.”

            You nodded shakily.

            “But don’t think of trying anything. I’ll end your life in a second.”

            “I know.” You breathed out, “I won’t.”

            Glancing over your shoulder, you watched as the young girl approached slowly. Your eyes met & you could see the sadness there as she peered at you before getting close enough to touch. Then she kneeled down behind you & reached for the hem of your crop top.

            A hiss passed between your teeth as the fabric of your top peeled away from your back. The wounds Micah left having split open & caked blood stuck to your shirt.

            The young girl shuddered & covered her mouth, her eyes watering. Then she looked up at her father, signing yet again.

            You watched as the man understood what she told him.

            “Someone do that to you?” His eyes met yours once again.

            You gulped, “Lots of someone’s.”

            “You kill them?”

            “No.” Your voice shook, “Only one…but there’s more.”

            “They after you?”

            If you admitted that they were, the man & young girl would leave you, but if you lied & said they weren’t, you’d risk their lives.

            “Yes.”

            The man inhaled sharply, nodding at his daughter to move away.

            “You dangerous?”

            The question made you falter.

            No.

            But you had killed Adrianna. You were capable of taking another life.

            “I don’t know.” You admitted, “I’m just trying to survive.”

            You felt your eyes fluttering closed. He would either kill you or leave you defenseless. Neither was desirable. But you had no choice in the matter.

            A shuffle forced your eyes open & you watched in mild surprise as the man swung the bow onto his back. He stepped forward, offering his hand, “You can come with us. But only for today & tonight. Then you’re on your own. I got a daughter to protect & you look to be trouble.”

            “I understand.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, giving him your hand, “Thank you.”

            “C’mon then. Get your things. We got a bit of a hike to our campsite.”

            Their campsite was incredible. You had never seen anything like it before. It made you recall all those post-apocalyptic films that are set in the woods & you were truly living in one now.

            The man put his gear away along the cavern wall as his daughter led you to the edge of the small body of water.

            She signed at you & you watched as your hands & fingers attempted to speak to you. But you frowned, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

            “You need to take your shirt off. So she can clean your wounds.”

            You frowned at that. The young girl looked to her father then back to you, nodding.

            “I—” Your eyes fell to the man whose back was to you, “I don’t—”

            “Don’t worry.” The man grumbled, “I’m going back out to check the traps. You two can be alone.”

            With that, the man disappeared the way you all came & you breathed a sigh of relief. The young girl beside you chuckled lightly at that. Your eyes met hers & you smiled weakly.

            “Sorry. I just don’t trust people. Especially men.”

            She nodded at that before reaching for your shirt. You raised your arms so she could remove the bloodied & dirtied shirt from your body.

            The young girl worked on your back for some time. It was almost soothing, despite the pain. You had your toes slid into the water & your knees to your chest as she cleaned & disinfected your wounds before dressing them. Afterwards, you felt far better off than you had when Adrianna’s dressed them.

            When she finally stood up, gesturing for you to do the same, you smiled at her, “Thank you.”

            She signed back.

            But as you approached your backpack near the center of the campsite, it was only then that you realized you didn’t have any other clothes to wear. Rafe hadn’t packed that far ahead. You supposed you could wear your bloodied shirt again, but before you could manage to do that, the young girl appeared from within the tent, a pile of folded clothes in her hands.

            “For me?” You asked. She confirmed by handing them to you.

            “How do you say, ‘thank you’ in sign language?” You asked, accepting the pile of clothes.

            The young girl brought her hand to her chin, touching it, before moving it away & towards you.

            You mimicked the movement. She nodded.

            In the tent, you quickly got dressed, save for the thick jacket. Though it was beginning to become autumn outside, it was still much too warm during the day to wear it. But it would come in handy during the night.

            The man returned & he carried a wire string of fish hanging from his first, “Whose hungry?”

            It was shortly after sun fell when you sat by a dimly lit fire in the cavern. The man purposefully kept it low, informing you that the bigger the fire the stronger the smell. He gave you a few lessons in survival & taught you tips to aid you in outrunning Rafe.

            He was a doomsday prepper, telling you he had known this day would be coming for a long time. You had heard of people like him, but you were surprised to see him out in the world rather than in a bunker.

            “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the funds to build a bunker, but I sure tried.” He told you, his voice deep & rough as he watched the fire burn.

            “But we heard on a radio transmission about a commune up north. Survivors. Apparently, the virus hasn’t affected the area.”

            You recalled having heard something similar back at the military compound. It felt like ages ago that that ever happened. Back when all of your friends were alive & on the same team.

            “It’s probably bullshit.” You commented mindlessly.

            The man chuckled at that but nodded, “Probably. But I gotta think about my daughter. If she has a better chance of survival there then I gotta get her there.”

            His daughter was asleep in the tent at that point. The opening to the tent was zipped halfway, but you could make out her forehead just inside there.

            “Was she born deaf?” You questioned.

            The man grunted & shifted in his seat before nodding towards the tent, “She ain’t deaf.”

            What?

            Before you could ask further, the man continued.

            “But her mama was.” He revealed.

            “Oh.” You frowned at that, “Where’s she?”

            He sighed heavily, peering into the embers, “She dead.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            The man eyed you but nodded.

            “Was it the virus?”

            “No.” He shook his head, “Thank Christ. Cancer. She died a couple years ago.”

            Cancer, just another death sentence.

            “Ever since then…she hasn’t spoken.” He said, referring to his daughter, “Docs said it was a trauma response so I let it go thinking she would outgrow it but…she has yet to.”

            “She’s lucky to have you.” You told him. His eyes met yours.

            “Where are your folks?”

            You shrugged, not having thought about them in a long time, “Dead. Probably.”

            He grunted at that, “Sorry to hear it.”

            “I think what kills me the most about it is that my mom probably died alone. In her bed, in our big empty house. I have no clue where my dad was. He was a pilot, always traveling, always gone.”

            The man nodded along as you spoke.

            “I try not to think about it.” You admitted.

            “I understand that.”

            “Where are you two from?” You asked.

            The man took a swig from his water bottle before answering, “A little farm outside Chesterfield. You?”

            “Tampa.” You replied, “But I was going to school in Gainesville when the virus hit.”

            The man whistled knowingly, “That’s a long ways away. You traveled that far with your group, huh?”

            “Kind of.” You muttered, recalling all the events leading up to that moment, “Before everything fell apart, before sides were taken & trust was broken.”

            “This kid that’s after you… think he’ll give up?’

            You frowned. Rafe was never the kind to give up.

            “No.” Your voice was barely audible.

            The man sighed at that. Then he moved, reaching into a bag near his feet. You watched as he pulled out your gun & knife.

            “I was gonna wait to give these back to you till mornin’.” He admitted but then handed them to you, “But I trust you need them more for protection than to cause harm.”

            “Thank you.” You breathed out, accepting them back.

            “I’m sorry you can’t come with us.” He said but you shook your head in response, “Don’t be. It’s better off this way. I wouldn’t want him hurting either of you.”

            “You gonna keep heading south?”

            “Mmm.” You nodded, tucking your knife & gun away, “A friend of mine was supposed to come this way.”

            It was then that you discussed with him Bear. His appearance, his personality, his protectiveness over you. Unfortunately, the man had never seen him. So, he would be unable to tell you if you were heading in the right direction.

            Afterwards, the man stomped out the fire before cracking his back, “I oughta get some shut-eye now. I laid out a sleeping back in the corner there for ya.”

            “Thank you.”

            “S’no problem.” He grunted before making way towards the tent. He did not go inside but zipped it up before lying on the ground outside of it.

            You followed suit & crawled into the sleeping bag he laid out for you. Much like the night before, you listened to the sounds of your environment. The waterfall was like a lullaby as you eventually succumbed to sleep.

            Morning came & before you knew it you were facing the man & his daughter as you prepared to split off from them.

            “Remember what I taught you.” The man started as he eyed you.

            “I know.” You raised your feet to show the socks of your boots. He said it would help not only cover your tracks but also silence your steps. “Thank you for everything.”

            The young girl mustered a smile as she watched you.

            “If you change your mind, we’ll be heading towards Worcester. I left a map circled with where you can find our campsite near there if you want to follow inside your backpack.”

            You smiled at that, but you would not be able to follow them, not for as long as you knew Rafe was still out there.

            “Please be careful. Rafe, he’s…dangerous. He won’t hesitate to kill you, either of you.”

            It terrified you, imagining Rafe putting a bullet into the man & his young daughter’s skulls.

            The man grunted but nodded.

            “Oh, &, if you do see my friend, Bear, will you tell him I’ll be where he lost his last game of beer pong.”

            “Sorry?” The man asked.

            “He’ll know what you mean.”

            “If I see him, I’ll pass along your message.”

            “Thank you.” You voiced before eyeing the girl. You thanked her in sign language. She signed back.

            “Be safe, now.” The man said once more with finality.

            “You, too.”

153 days since the world ended

            It took nearly two weeks before you reached your destination. Thanks to the man & his daughter, you were well-equipped for the lengthy travel. You only had the one set of clothes that the young girl gave you but you stopped every three days to wash them thoroughly. They had also given you plenty of food & taught you how to trap fish on days when you needed to rest & eat.

            The first couple days you had been reasonably paranoid. Though the man & his daughter were a surreal break from the reality of being hunted down, you were back to being on alert all the time. However, as the days continued & you moved further south, you grew confident that Rafe was far in your rearview mirror. You decided to yourself that you would stay at the house for only a couple days, leaving a hidden note somewhere for Bear to find should he come looking for you, before you would move on. One thing you knew about being hunted was that you couldn’t stop moving.

            It was bittersweet seeing the city limit sign for Gainesville. You had stuck to the woods, wide fields, & abandoned roads in your two week trek back to your college town. You had contemplated moving towards Tampa, but Bear did not know where you lived with you family there. So, you would leave a note in his room telling him where to find you if he didn’t show up after a couple days.

            Gainesville had changed little in the five months you had been gone. It was clear the town was abandoned. Cars were covered in dust & rusting under the previous summer sun. Business establishments & homes were cleared out, doors hanging off their hinges & windows broken to reveal the havoc within. You did well to stay hidden as you walked the streets, pausing often to listen for any potential signs of life. But none ever came.

            It wasn’t long before you turned onto Greek row & approached the abandoned fraternity house. You stood on the sidewalk for some time, staring up at it. The last time you had been there was when you all returned from camping. Now, you were alone. The lawn was overgrown & there was a few broken windows, but otherwise, the house was in good condition. You approached hesitantly.

            Once on the porch, you pushed the door open & it creaked with your arrival. You stood outside for a moment longer & listened intently. It was peacefully quiet. You produced your gun from your waistband & entered the house. You did a thorough walk-through of the whole house, second floor & basement included, before you felt confident that there was no life.

            You returned to the main floor & locked the door, pushing a heavy piece of furniture in front of it. You knew it wasn’t the only entrance to the house but most people would try to come through the front door.

            In the kitchen, you glanced around. It looked as if time had stopped. Evidence of the ‘We Wear Pink on Wednesday’s’ end of school celebration party was still there. Red solo cups littered the floor & counter tops. Pink streamers hung wryly from doorframes. A plethora amount of liquor bottles were piled in the sink. You stood there for some time, remembering how not so long ago, you had been in that very kitchen watching your friends battle against one another in a game of beer pong as you & Rafe took shots on the sidelines.

            Rafe. The memory dulled your senses. Who knew this was the world ending would lead to?

            In the fridge, you were not surprised to find anything. The boys rarely had food anyway & what little you did find was rotten & moldy. You slammed the door shut before heading for the stairs. You walked down the lengthy corridor that houses many of the frat brother’s private rooms. On the wall was pictures of members, past & present. You paused when you spotted the face of your boyfriend smiling proudly in one.

            Your heart shattered as you looked at Sayyed’s friendly face. He was in the middle of Rafe & Bear, the three of them in good spirits at what looked to be a pep rally. You remembered that day well. But then your eyes cast over to the man on Sayyed’s left. Rafe. He was never a friend, no matter how much he looked like one in photos.

            Leaving the picture, you trailed the rest of the hallway until you reached a door near the end. Sayyed’s.

            Inhaling sharply, you steeled yourself & pushed the door open.

            It looked almost like how he left it. His drawers & clothes were scattered on the floor, his bed unmade. His closet doors were open & hangers stuck out from him having gathered clothes in a haste. You felt your muscles relax as you took in his room. You had spent many nights there, cuddling with him in bed as the two of you watched reruns of Spongebob. He was your home away from home.

            Walking around to the other side of his bed, you sat down, glancing at his nightstand. In a picture frame was a photo collage of his friends & family. Nuha was in a lot of them, looking glamourous as always. Behind that picture was another. You fingered it & picked it up.

            “Hey, you.” You whispered as your finger traced over his face.

            It was the two of you. Both smiling as you stood one of the many beaches in Tampa. That was taken the first time you brought him home to meet your parents. He spent half the summer with you. You grinned openly as you remembered him chasing you into the ocean as you two wrestled to throw the other under the small waves. Both of you looked so happy to be alive, to be there together.

            Your vision blurred as tears threatened to fall.

            How did it feel like all the time in the world had passed? How did it feel like he never existed? How had it only been five months yet it felt like five hundred years?

            You sniffled, bringing the picture frame to your chest as you lied down on your back. In the two weeks it took you two arrive there, your back had healed greatly. It was stiff often but the pain had disappeared over time. There were still a few scabs, & you could still feel the ridges of the wounds as they scarred over, but they were mostly gone for the most part. As for your fingers, they too had healed. Adrianna had set them before your escape & since you had little opportunity to really strain them, you were able to use them. Kind of. You didn’t push hard, relying on your left hand as much as you could, but you were relieved that your body was healing. All that was left to mend was your mind.

            It was dark when you opened your eyes. You groaned softly, not having meant to fall asleep in Sayyed’s bed. You pushed yourself up, the picture falling into your lap as you did. You eyed it once more before returning it to the nightstand. Your mouth was dry. You needed to drink water.

            Reprimanding yourself, you remembered then that you left your backpack downstairs in the kitchen. You knew better than to part with your survival goods. Leaving Sayyed’s room, you began walking down the hall when you stopped abruptly. The door to the room next to Sayyed’s was open. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered you, as you didn’t specifically note which doors in that hallway were open or closed, but it bothered you greatly because it was the door that led to Rafe’s old room.

            Staring at it, you felt your heart quicken. Could he be on the other side?

            But you shook your head. It had been over two weeks since you escaped Rafe. If he was still chasing after you, he wouldn’t have beaten you here. And even if he had��did he know you well-enough to think you’d come there? If anything, you’d’ve gone to your apartment with Millie. It’s why you ultimately chose the frat house. It wouldn’t be expected.

            Steeling yourself, you kicked in the door to Rafe’s room. It was dark & the only light came from the moon outside that cast it’s light through the sole window. You kept your hand on your gun, finger over the trigger, as you took a step inside. It was quiet, barren, lifeless.

            You breathed out a sigh of relief.

            Perhaps you’d leave sooner than later. Even if coming to frat house was unexpected, you still couldn’t put it past Rafe to check every single place he knew you knew about. Your plan to stay there for a couple days would be cut short. You’d get some water, go back to sleep, & in the morning you’d take what you could from the house, leave a note for Bear in his room, then leave. You had to keep moving.

            Back downstairs, you entered the kitchen, spotting your backpack on the table that was commonly used for beer pong. You began approaching it when you stopped again, though this time for a more terrifying reason.

            In the darkness, against the backdrop of the window on the other side of the table, was a silhouette.

            Your heart raced.

            No. It was your imagination. A trick of the light. Your paranoia.

            But then the silhouette moved, leaning forward against the table. And as it did, you finally caught the glint of something evil in the eyes that met your own.

            “You should’ve kept running, _____.” Rafe’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard as you reeled backwards. But you didn’t get far when you felt yourself crash against a solid figure.

            Spinning around you were horrified to find Micah standing behind you.

            Immediately, you yanked out your gun, prepared to fire blindly but Micah swung a closed fist towards your face & you fell to the ground, your gun skidding into the darkness.

            A shrill scream erupted from you as you desperately crawled backwards.

            “No!” You cried out—angry, scared.

            Your back met a wall of cabinets & you thrashed away from Micah’s outstretched hand as he attempted to catch your ankle. But your fight was quickly snuffed out as Micah dragged you back to the center of the kitchen. He straddled your hips with one hand on your sternum holding you down, & the other gathering a fistful of your hair at the back of your head.

            Rafe appeared above you then, the darkness only adding to their insidious intentions. He cocked his head, feigning a frown.

            “How?” You winced, glaring up at him.

            Rafe shook his head, “I know you better than you do.”

            Then you watched in horror as he glanced at Micah. Nodding.

            “No!” You screamed once more, but your scream died on your lips as Micah brought another fist to your face. And another. And another. Until you collapsed against the linoleum of the kitchen, blood seeping from your nose & mouth.

            Your vision swayed & blackened as you heard the mean speak above you, but their words were muffled & faded.

            Subconsciousness came for you & this time, you hoped it would swallow you whole.

after a brief break to complete the celebration requests, i am back with the second to last chapter of Rise! the next chapter will be the finale & trust me when i say...it'll be a doozy.

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Eat your words

Crossed out - Continued from ch.4 - Prologue

-

Lucas dragged himself up the metal stairs to his cell, both mentally and physically spent. Sure, he was used to making long days, long hours. But those hours were mostly spend stuck to a desk, morning to night in an ergonomic chair, with tasty takeout and a sense of accomplishment when he went home. Now he was stuck in hell, and deskwork was replaced with manual labour for ten straight hours that left his body stiff and sore even after the first day.

All he wanted to do was fall onto his cot and sleep until that goddamn buzzer announced the start of a new awful day.

But unfortunately, it seemed he couldn’t just yet. His stomach plummeted when he reached the top and saw Nero standing right outside his cell, waiting for him. If only he had a cellmate, he could fool himself for a few seconds that Nero wasn’t there for him…

He nearly halted right in his step, but the stubborn part of his brain made him carry on as if nothing was wrong and he kept walking, albeit a little tense. The anxiety in his brain at the same time replayed the scene from yesterday at his first breakfast, where he had taunted Nero about expecting compliance from him.

“Don’t go thinking you’ve won that battle now, son.” One of the other men at the table had muttered to him when Nero had simply walked off and Lucas remained scot-free. He hadn’t put much thought into that. But he was pretty sure the other half of that war was going to be fought out right here. Right now.

“Good evening, warden Mathison,” he tried, upholding some sense of politeness to outright avoid a drawing of weapons yet still refusing to call him ‘sir’.

Nero merely nodded in response. “Settling in alright, Varga?”

“You know what they say about the first day at a new job. It’s exhausting. So if you don’t mind…” Lucas pointed vaguely at his bed and took a step forward.

An arm shot out, hand slamming into the metal doorframe that rattled with the force, blocking the entrance.

“You haven’t made your bed,” Nero observed.

Lucas followed his gaze. The blanket was shoved to the side, all crumpled up. Ready to dive in only to have that flat mattress make the pain in his back even worse.

“I was a little preoccupied getting used to the new morning schedule.”

Nero smiled. His eyes snapped from the bed back to Lucas. “Do it now,” he said, and removed his arm.

“I’m literally turning in the second you walk awa—”

Nero didn’t even say anything, just stared him down and Lucas instantly fell silent.

He hesitated for a moment, but then stepped forward, through the small door, right past Nero. He expected… something. A shove in the back, blocking the exit and caging him in to this box of a room. But nothing happened and he safely reached the bed. He pulled the sheets taut and threw up the blanket, smoothing it out over the mattress. He didn’t think Nero would expect anything less than military precision, so he lifted the thin, plastic-y mattress and tucked the sheets and blanket neatly under. So he could rip it back off in a few minutes.

As he worked, he could feel Nero’s gaze lasering into his back. The man casually leant against the door opening, arms crossed.

“Consider this a warning,” he said. “I’ve sent people to solitary for less.”

Lucas bit back a ‘yeah, yeah’ and opted to continue working in silence, smoothing out all the wrinkles and placing his pillow neatly on top. He stood straight, next to the bed, eyes fierce on Nero’s as if daring him to find something to criticize. Nero tilted his head in an ‘acceptable’ and gestured up with his fingers, beckoning Lucas back out of the cell.

“These hours, after dinner,” he said, “you are free to spend however you want. Seeing as you don’t know the rules yet, not to mention there’s paperwork for you to go over, you’ll spend these hours in my office. Every day. After dinner.”

Lucas soured. “For how long?”

“Until you get it.”

“Get what?”

“The basic rules and basic manners expected of you here. Or until you sign. Up to you. I’ll expect you tomorrow at seven pm first.”

So much for his plans to just sleep early and escape reality every night. “Right,” Lucas merely said.

Wrong answer.

“Varga…” the man almost tutted, a fake disappointment in his tone and he stepped closer. “You’re a lawyer,” he continued like a patient teacher coaching a stubborn student. “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve heard or uttered the word ‘sir’. If it makes things easier, you can think of me as the judge. Your judge.”

“Is that what you fancy yourself to be here?”

“Here?” Nero laughed, inched closer standing directly in front of him and whispered: “Here, I am so much more.”

Before Lucas could even brace himself, a hand shot out and slammed into his throat. The enormous force threw him against the bars of the cell. His body crashing against the metal echoed through the room, the only thing even resembling a cry for help as all his air was cut off.

Some men on the other side of the room startled from the loud noise. They glanced over, but as soon as they saw what was going on, they quickly averted their eyes again, literally turning their back on Lucas. They continued their hushed conversation, ignoring him. Leaving him helpless and choking.

“What was it you said?” Nero spoke calmly, drawing closer. “Don’t hold your breath on it?”

The metal bars pressed against his back like they were trying to work right under his shoulder blades. Hands clawed up, trying to pull at the fingers digging tighter around his throat. Absolutely useless. Like trying to pry the bars of his cell apart. Lucas gurgled a sound of surrender, a sound that turned to a high-pitched yelp of surprise in his throat as his feet came off the ground.

Eyes widened, brain in full denial as Nero just fucking lifted him right off the floor with one hand. Slowly, sliding him up against the metal as if he weighed nothing, until they were at eye height.

There was no emotion in those grey eyes. No urgency. Just a silent expectation.

Whereas Lucas’ eyes contained every emotion he had. They all mingled into a wild panic. He couldn’t breathe. Could only struggle and flail against the vice grip around his throat, against the perplexity of this situation. He pulled at Nero’s arm, lightly kicked his feet but didn’t dare to but any weight behind it.

He tried to nod, shake his head, anything to show that, yeah! Okay! He got it!

And all of a sudden the bruising force on his throat released and he dropped back to the floor like a ragdoll.

He heaved in a breath, coughed it out again as too much air filled his lungs. He clutched a hand to his chest, forcing himself to calm down, forcing a measure of control back to his body. Trembling all over, he rolled to his knees trying not to double over.

“Have I made myself clear?” The cold voice above him broke through his daze.

Lucas panted hard, hand now cradling his bruised throat, the other on one of the bars as he tried to pull himself back up into a somewhat more dignified position than hunched over Nero’s boots. He fought the urge to wheeze out a ‘crystal’, but looked up and merely whispered, “Yes sir”.

Nero nodded and turned away from him. “Tomorrow. Seven pm.”

-

Continued here

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[igorsynee]

t.w// mentions of ab*se, strong language, physical ab*se, mentions of centipedes, yandere.

yeonjun is a nice guy. he really is. he loves you so much. he cares for you so much. he does everything for you. yeah his way of showing his love for you isn't healthy at all but does that matter to him? no.

yeah he gets extremely jealous abd yeah he's extremely possesive but that's just because he loves you too much. so what if he threatens anyone who tries to talk to you? so what of he threatened to kill your family and friends if they interfered between him and you? he does that to protect you and to keep you with him.

so what he gets extremely angry when you do not follow those stupid rules he set up for you or when you go against his wishes? he has every right to be angry when you disobey him when he's doing everything for your sake. he hurts you physically and mentally? oh pfft he only disciplined you because you tried to escape ! you tried to leave him ! he loves you so much but you dont even care about him.

it was one of the nights when yeonjun came home extremely tired and slept without any care in the world and today his sleep was extra deep. you noticed how his chest rose up slowly and went down and how stable his breath was. he looked like an angel while sleeping. so ironic, you thought as you slowly removed his arm off of your waist and quietly got off of the bed. taking quiet steps you walked out of the room.

it was one of the rare chances you had to make your great escape and finally be free of this forced relationship you were stuck in. you breathed out a shaky breath as you moved closer to the exit door. your heart was beating so fast that your heart beats were all you could hear. you had reached at the exit door now and soon as you placed your hand on the door lock suddenly you felt someone grab a fistful of your hair in a tight grip. a scream of pain escaped your lip as you were pulled back from the door by your hair and your back collided with a hard chest.

“you stupid bitch”, yeonjun said in a voice full of anger. “thought you could escape while i was sleeping?”, he spat before pulling onto your hair again turning your face towards his. you let out a loud cry of pain closing your eyes for a moment. opening your eyes again you saw the extremely angry expression on yeonjun's face. your heart dropped to your stomach. you were done for.

yeonjun stared at your face with eyes full of malice and anger before he turned around still holding you by your hair in a tight grip and dragged you into the bedroom by your hair. you screamed loudly grabbing his hand and begging him to let go because it really hurt but he did not listen. he didn't want to listen.

dragging you into the bedroom he threw your body onto the bed before he walked towards the drawer near the bed and pulled out a rope. he walked towards you again and tied both your hands and legs.

“yeonjun please please i'm so sorry i will not do this again please forgive me”, you begged crying like a baby but it did not work on him.

“yeonjun pleas-”, before you could finish yeonjun's hand struck to your face making you fall back from the impact. your vision got dark for a moment. your voice got stuck in your throat and lips started to bleed.

“shut the fuck up”, he said before grabbing your arm and sitting you up before striking your cheek again. your body was shaking as you were feeling an immense pain in your cheek and neck. your tears wouldn't stop but how you wished it all ended just there. yeonjun then let go of your arm and walked out of the room for what seemed like 30 minutes before he made his way back into the room and walked towards your pathetically crying self on the bed. crouching down a little he looked straight into your wet eyes before he slowly gave you an extremely evil and malicious smile.

“since you love playing escape game so much i planned something really good for you”, he said making your breath hitch because definitely his words only mean something really bad going to happen to you now. you were scared. extremely scared. yeonjun then grabbed your waist before slowly picking your body up in his arms and started walking out of the bedroom with you in his arms.

he then brought you into a room situated in the basement. you feared this room so much. this room was eerie and dark and also a place where yeonjun would lock you up for hours to torture you if you ever disobeyed him since he knew about your fear of darkness.

yeonjun then walked towards the chair placed in the middle of the room and slowly place your body on it sitting you down on the chair. with your hands and legs tied you couldn't move or do anything. you had now started to think about accepting your fate stop the resistance at all.

while you were busy in your thoughts yeonjun had brought out a big box from the corner and walked with the box in his hands towards you before setting it down in front of you. you were pulled out of your thoughts as you noticed the box. your heart was beating too loud and you were breathing fast not knowing what to expect next.

with a big mischievous smile yeonjun opened the box and your heart dropped to your stomach seeing the contents inside the box. your breath hitched and your body froze when you saw the box was filled with big centipedes and scorpions.

yeonjun bent down in front of the box and looked up at you, “c'mon now are you not gonna praise me? i brought these just so you could have fun and play those little escape games of yours. i'd like to see how you escape these little guys”, he said nonchalantly.

panic set in your heart as your voice got stuck in your throat. you wanted to do something. anything to get away from these. from here. you wanted to run but all your body did was shake.

“y-yeonjun. yeonjun please please no don't do this i swear i will not try to escape again please”, you finally got your voice out that was stuck in your throat and started begging your boyfriend.

“what? why? no don't stop. keep trying to escape so i can organize more fun activities like this”, he said laughing clearly enjoying how miserable you were right now. yeonjun then reached in and picked up one of the centipedes from the box and stood up slowly moving closer to you. you started shaking your head violently as you started crying loudly, “no no no please get it away”, you started crying and begging. you were putting in all your strength to get your hands and feets out of the rope that tied them but you were just not powerful enough.

yeonjun was now right in front of you just a few inches away and so was the centipede that he was holding. you were moving your body around a lot on the chair in hope of getting away from him and because of you moving so much the chair lost it balance as you fell down with the chair hurting your head and ribs but that did not stop yeonjun from terrorizing you more as he sat down in front of you and put the centipede over your waist.

your eyes widened as you screamed loudly shaking your body to get it off of you but the centipede was crawling up. you were screaming in horror wishing every gods in the existence to save you. you were were screaming so much that you had almost lost your voice.

the centipede was now coming closer to your face and before it could crawl over your face yeonjun picked it up again and threw it in the box. your cries didn't stop however. you were so scared. you were a shaking and crying mess.

yeonjun looked back at you, “you are crying and screaming so much and i didn't even do much yet”, he said before shutting the box again tightly and picking the box up to set it aside as he called someone to get the box out of the house as soon as the next morning comes. you just watched yeonjun as your body layed on the ground tied along with the chair as you sobbed.

yeonjun then made his way back to you and started untying your hands and legs before picking you up in his arms and started walking out of the basement room without saying anything. you just quietly sobbed as your head rested against his chest. yeonjun made his way into you both's bedroom again before putting you down on the bed and sitting in front of you on the bed looking straight at you.

“look at yourself. you look so pathetic right now”, he spat before he moved his hand closer to your face making you flinch. he put hus hands over your cheek gently wiping your tears. “will you try to pull this little act of yours again?”, he questioned. you quickly shook your head, "no never. i promise”, you said as you started crying and sobbing again.

yeonjun just smiled and pulled your body into his chest hugging you tightly, “good girl because of there's ever a next time then it will be worse than what i did today”, he cooed as he slowly rubbed your back. you couldn't help but cry and regret your decisions. regret your decision of trying to escape today. regret your decision of moving in together with yeonjun at the begining of your relationship. regret your decision of ever getting into a relationship with yeonjun. regret your decision of ever asking him out and liking him. regret even meeting him.

but regret was not gonna change anything now. it seemed this was your fate and you had you had to accept it or you would be forced to accept it.

//HAYY PLS IGNORE ANY TYPOS PLS I CANNOT TYPE also idk what to feel about this fic. i don't lime this very much. it was a lot scarier and fucked up in my head but i don't really like it written down lol idk let me know your thoughts btw IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I POSTED. I'M SORRY I'LL TRY TO BE MORE ACTIVE MUAHHH.

[munsonsmixtapes]

My hurt/comfort request:

Reader and eddie somehow survived the upside down together, despite spending time in the hospital afterward for a good few weeks. Now it's well after all that hell, but reader isn't doing well mentally. They keep pushing Eddie away, indulge in drinking far too much, and rely on pills to feel numb. But the PTSD is strong, and nightmares won't go away. Sleep is a luxury now.

One night reader risks calling Eddie while drinking, only to hang up after a few words feeling like it was a mistake. Eddie doesn't take it lightly and comes over to find reader on the floor with a bottle of alcohol, crying and shaking from their last nightmare. Comfort ensues.

Feel free to change anything if you write this!! I know it's a pretty heavy prompt but I rarely see people explore the PTSD side of things with these characters. We forget how much hell the show actually portrayed. (Apologies for the long request lol)

Thanks so much for the request, lovely! This is exactly what I was looking for!

cw: mention of PTSD, reader’s deteriorating mental heath, and abuse of both alcohol and medication, hurt/comfort

You didn’t know how you did it, but after being dragged through hell and back, you had barely escaped death in the Upside Down. Both you and your boyfriend Eddie had been experienced the most unimaginable injuries, seeking immediate help at the hospital even though you knew that they wouldn’t believe how you had gotten hurt so badly.

Both of you had spent weeks there, racking up outrages bills as you were nursed back to health. Eddie had been worse than you, though, having to be on life support, but you were definitely suffering more mentally. Even though you had escaped the Upside Down physically, you hadn’t been able to in your mind.

All of the horrific, traumatic images replayed in your head on a torturous loop that you hadn’t been able to shake. It was as if you had never left even after months of being back in the real world. You couldn’t think of anything else. Especially when it was time to go to bed. Even falling asleep next to Eddie didn’t help. You still somehow always woke up screaming.

Eddie did his best, but it was so hard to watch you fall apart right before him. The person that he loved the most was in absolute shambles and you wouldn’t let him help you. You just insisted that you were fine and told him to leave it alone whenever he suggested alternatives to your unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Instead of seeking therapy like you probably should have, you resorted to the pills you had been prescribed for your anxiety and alcohol to numb your pain. If you weren’t drinking, you were popping pills after pill, and when you were really desperate, you’d combine them, even though it said very clearly on the bottle not to mix them with alcohol.

Over time, you favored your new obsessions over your own boyfriend. You found yourself pushing him away, not wanting to hear his judgement, even though you knew very well that he’d never judge you. He just cared for you in a way no one else did and it made him sick to sit by and watch you self-sabotage.

You sat on the floor of your bathroom, surrounded by empty beer bottles, your phone right in front of you, practically begging you to call your boyfriend who you hadn’t spoken to in weeks. And it wasn’t because you didn’t want to. It was because you couldn’t. You had convinced yourself that he had been upset with you and you just didn’t want to hear it.

But you did want to hear his voice. It was one of the only things that brought you instant comfort, never failing to make all your worries fade away. You knew he would have picked up if you called so you didn’t know why you were so nervous.

You picked up the phone and used the rotary to dial his number, surprised you could do it with how drunk you were. It rang once before your picked up, Eddie’s lovely voice ringing through the phone.

“Y/n?” He asked, breathless, like he had been holding it for too long.

“Eddie,” you cried, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, desperately wishing he would hold you in his arms. You knew he would if you just asked. Why couldn’t you ask?

“Y/n, oh my god. It’s so good to hear your voice, honey. What’s wrong?”

“The nightmares-” you cut yourself off, terrified to tell him what they were really about. You felt like talking about them would make them even worse.

“What about them? Have they gotten worse?” Eddie could always somehow read your mind. Maybe that was why you worked so well together. If you were even together anymore. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he would have broken up with you because of you pushing him away. You thought you deserved it.

You didn’t know why, but you pulled the phone away from your ear and put it back on top of the rotary, scooting away from it once it rang again. You knew it was Eddie and you didn’t want to talk to him anymore. Calling him was a mistake.

You curled up and buried your face into your knees, letting out soft sobs as the nightmares flashed in your head. They were always the same. Always a reminder of the trauma you had gone through. You in Vecna’s clutches, so close to death until you found yourself in Eddie’s arms, him cradling your almost lifeless bodies in his hands, letting out wail and wail as he begged for you to come back.

You cracked open another beer and shotgunned it, before laying on the cold, hard tile, left alone with nothing but your thoughts. Nothing could fix it, nothing could save you. You were just hopeless.

The bathroom door bursted open and you sat up, startled by the sudden noise. There, in the doorway was your boyfriend Eddie, a duffle bag in his hand. He let it fall to the floor and headed toward you before dropping to the tile and pulling you into his lap.

You wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his neck, sobbing into it while he ran his hands up and down your back as a way to comfort you. He was always so good at it.

“I’m sorry I hung up on you,” you told him when you had run out of tears. He just shook his head and brought his hands up to your face, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been going through things that people couldn’t even imagine.” Eddie knew how much you were struggling and it broke his heart that you were blaming yourself for doing what you needed to do to heal.

“But I pushed you away.” Your eyebrows furrowed and you suddenly felt silly for thinking that Eddie would have been mad at you. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.

“You needed your space. I’ll always wait for you, you know that.” You did know that. He had told you those exact words time and time again, especially in the past few months, when you had been going through your darkest times.

“I-I thought you were going to break up with me.” Tears started welling up in your eyes again and Eddie was quick to wipe away the ones that fell.

“Why would I do that? I love you. Nothing could make me want to leave you. You know that, right?” Sometimes he was concerned by how much he loved you. That he would defend you even when he knew you were wrong. He was always just so desperate to be on your side.

“I do now,” you nodded then looked around at all of the empty bottles that surrounded you. You couldn’t believe that you had consumed all of that alcohol in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was time to quit and get some help. You owed that to yourself after all you had gone through. “I-I think I want to go to therapy. I’m sick of feeling this way, so empty and hollow.”

“Honey,” he pulled you into a hug before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“You are?”

“Always,” he nodded. “Not everyone can see that they need to make changes in their life and you did. Even if it took you a minute to get there.”

“You’ll help me?” You asked, twirling a strand of his hair around your pointer finger.

“Don’t I always,” he chuckled. “Now c’mon. Let’s get you some water and then head to bed. I feel like you could really use some sleep.”

Eddie helped you up from the floor and carried you to the kitchen to get some much needed water. You looked up at him as he took you down the stairs, wondering how you had gotten so lucky as to have someone like him that was so caring and willing to help you even when you had treated him like absolute shit. You never thought that you had deserved him, but maybe after getting some help, you’d be able to work on that and realize that you really did deserve to have him in your life.

[namazunomegami]

emperor!sukuna x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: part 2 of my self-indulging mess. I had a lot of fun writing him and his drabble got finished way before I developed the whole plotline for Geto lol. I'll try to complete Gojo today or tomorrow and Toji is in the works yaaay!!

Also, I'm so surprised my Geto drabble got so many notes in such a short time!! I wouldn't expected people to be remotely interested in my writing but now I'm getting confident.

And finally, I can guarantee that this reader is gender neutral.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated <33

wc: 674, I know, I know, Geto got the princess treatment from me but sometimes less is more <333

cw: historical AU, scheming, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sudden infant death syndrome, betrayal, accusations of abortion, execution, nudity, mentions of poisoning, suggestive

credits: i used a colored manga panel instead of a fanart but I have no idea who did the coloring so feel free to help me credit their work. And again, my precious @notveryrussian did the proofread, luv ya mwah <33

MDNI PLEASE! I'm gonna find you and kick you in the butt if you do. If you’re not comfortable with dark content or anything mentioned in the warnings just scroll, there's nothing wrong with that.

His mandate of heaven is very different from Gojo and Geto. Sukuna is a ruthless tyrant, he enjoys crushing any nation he deems either threatening or undeserving to even exist next to his borders. His palace is a snake pit, full of betrayal and backstabbing. Executions are frequent and he needs no valid reason to sentence someone to death, he enjoys the bloodshed and the sight of lifeless bodies. You can’t survive that place acting kind and humble. Sukuna specifically torments his concubines physically and mentally for the sheer enjoyment of it.

His court is probably the most competitive. You need to be as ruthless as he is, you need to become a schemer. One of his high-ranking consorts takes you under her wing. She lets you spend leisure time with her, and somehow, she ends up telling you way more sensitive information than she should. She once managed to give him a child, but the infant sadly died days after they were born. She complained about how hard that pregnancy was and that she’s afraid of going through it again, even though she’s attached to him. And not long after this conversation, she fell ill. Retching out everything she ate, her stomach burned and ached. She was so weak her cycle was two weeks late. She trusted you enough to have you fetch her a specific herbal tea to ease her pain and grant her some dreamless sleep.

And that’s the moment you decide you’ll use everything you know about her to cast her down and take her place.

You accuse her that she’s pregnant but wants to abort her baby. Your story is so intricately constructed from all the details you knew that his officials are on your side without hesitation. She watches you horrified, desperately telling him that nothing could be so far from the truth. Sukuna decides to believe in your words and orders for the consort to be executed. Finding pure joy in how she wails and begs for forgiveness. At the execution, he studies your face, every little detail and reaction and you were aware of that. It’s time to impress him. Your face is still, you don’t even flinch when her head is severed by the neck. The eunuchs come for you at night.

He loves and loathes this tradition at the same time. The servants want to protect him, so they deliver you stark naked to ensure you won’t carry any weapons. Fools, as if a weak and trembling creature like you could ever hurt him with a mere dagger or a sharpened hairpin. Yet it makes you look like an offering. A sacrificial lamb. Maybe because you are.

Some primal instinct tells you to balance your inner strength and innate fear of him. Pull back your shoulders, straighten your back, don’t even think to conceal your private parts. Let your fingers quiver and the sheer dread in your eyes seep through. He mocks you. Almost laughs at you while sitting comfortably on the intricately carved shelf bed, wearing a loose bright yellow robe, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. There’s no reason for him to not do this though, he’s a god, the son of heaven, therefore, everything about him is perfect.

The first thing he asks you is if you’re satisfied with your pathetic attempt to improve your position. You don’t dare to tell him that you feel the guilt rotting your insides. He confesses that he was poisoning her meals, he wanted to watch her wither away slowly and enjoy her suffering, but you ruined his plans. He might spare you, you’re a stupid little thing, you couldn’t have known. He warns you that you need to do so much more if you want to be on his good side. You need to be absolutely despicable to earn his praise. Though you feel content having reached your goal and getting to spend a night with him, somewhere deep down you hope you can leave his chamber in one piece or, at least, alive.