#You do NOT need to be a torture survivor to be fucked up from that

[0asisbliss]

Parings: Yan!Feitan x fem!Reader

A/N: This takes place in a zombie AU I also put Feitan words in a little bit of broken English because that’s kind of how it is in the anime. Sorry for any spelling errors.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, and Feitan being his own warning.

Blood. There was blood everywhere not just the undead’s, but the living. Now that the laws of society have been lifted ever since the breakout. Everyone is either killing to live, or living to kill. Either way you wanted no part of it. Even if your boyfriend was apart of some disgraceful acts. Every time he just explains all that with it being “harmless fun with friends”.

His friends weren’t that terrible at least to you. When the virus broke out Feitan urged you to come with him to be safe. Explaining that you two would stay there for the time being together. While you were panicking about everything he was as cool as a fucking cucumber. Calm as ever seeing people get mauled, and bitten. You’ve seen at least a hundred people die in this week.

I mean people were turning into walking dead creatures. And the worst part about it they weren’t even dying they were turning into cannibalistic-man biting monsters. Feitan started dragging you everywhere he went. Going to get supplies? You’re coming with him. Need to find a restroom? Yeah, he’s going.

You witnessed what the phantom troupe can do. Honestly you found it quite horrifying. Your just glad you with them instead of against them. Until the breakout you had no idea Feitan did all of these things. Yes. He was a bit experimental, and a little weird, but these were the things you liked about him. He stuck out, and he was different.

He didn’t give you the same ol’ love story other guys did. He was thrilling and made you do different things. He honestly took you out of your comfort zone. Feitan wasn’t normal and you knew that and that he was strong, but you would’ve never thought he would kill.

The first time you saw him kill was when he slaughtered a man that was trying to hit on you during the time you, him, Nobunaga, and Phinks were looking for resources. You were sure you could’ve handled yourself, but he took it upon himself to ruthlessly kill that man.

You also had your fair amount of encounters with zombie you shot a couple and got away. You thought they were all the same you know the ones in the movies. They were slow, blind, and basically walking corpses, or those were just the ones you encountered.

There were categories when it came to the “zombies”. There were whispers, walkers, and creepers.

Whisperers, are zombies that were once people who could use nen. Now they use all of their nen to lure in the uninfected. Ex: Calling their name, looking like the uninfected, impersonating a loved one, etc. Advantages: Amazing hearing, sight, looks almost humanly, could be mistaken for a survivor, and can use nen.

Walkers, are your typical walking dead zombie they roam around like undead corpses, and any living thing that moves is automatically food. Advantages: None.

Disadvantages: Slow, blind, decaying skin, after a couple of days their skin breaks down, eventually rots.

Creepers, hide in the daylight and come out into the night lurking, and waiting for any survivors, and uninfected to make the wrong move. They pounce on people who come in their sights. Advantages: Good eyesight, hearing, and reflexes.

These were the categories Chrollo set every zombie in from his observations. Each zombie category showed different skills, and abilities. Only the troupe knew about these categories. They were sure people who were smart enough picked up that not every zombie acted the same, but unlike them you were smart you just weren’t outside enough to understand the aspect of every one of them.

It was the new normal that you stuck by feitan at all time. Even when he was with his “friends” you had to warm up to them, but they were nice the more you got to know them. Pakunoda shared her food with you, Shizuku always talked to you not wanting you to feel lonely, and Machi know how clumsy you can be, so she sticks around you just in case you get any cuts.

You and usually keep medical kits, and antibiotics in case anyone needs them. The people around you rarely get hurt if they do you, and Machi are quick to the rescue. Even with all of these people surrounding you, you can’t help but think about if your friends and family and if they are alive.

You can’t count how many times you’ve broken down about it. Every time you confront Feitan about it he always tells you there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even though you want to seem irritated at his response you can’t help but think he’s right. You’d be risking your life going out there to find any of them. You cant fight, and all you have is a gun. Though you do have Feitan, but when you’re with him he likes doing things his way like you when have a certain time to the eat and bathe.

Everything centered around him basically, and how he thinks he can keep you safe. Closet thing you get to seeing other people other than Feitan and his friends are the group of people that circle the block of buildings everyday to look for survivors. Sometimes every time you see them some people are missing from that group.

You wonder what happened to them. Maybe they turned into zombies, or maybe they were killed. Either way you felt bad for them. They were such nice people going out of their way to look for survivors, and giving out food. You wondered why you never saw anyone get anything from them. They seemed pretty generous to you.

Feitan got back inside after looking around the city for resources. Fortunately he came back with a lot of things. Tissues, canned food, wipes, more antibiotics for you to treat people with, and something in a pink bag. Feitan looked at you before walking over to you and staring into your eyes. He handed you the pink bag and walked into another room in the building. You concluded that he was going to talk to other members of the troupe.

You were kind of hesitant to opening the bag, but your curiosity got the better of you. It was a bracelet with the first initial of your name. You looked at the bracelet and put it on your wrist it was a perfect fit.

You smiled at the bracelet. Feitan watched you through the doorframe secretly there was just the slight smile on his lips. He would never admit it, but he wanted you to stay happy even in times like this.

You looked out the window to see that the group of people were still outside.

They were waving up at the window to get your attention. You looked down at them, and wondered what they wanted. You opened the window, and stuck your head out of it.

They held up a sign made out of cardboard stating “We need help finding our team member.” They turned the board around to the other side. “She has red hair a crop top, and blue jeans on. Have you seen her?”

You shook your head. Giving the group a bit of a pitiful look. That’s when Feitan came up from behind you and shut the window.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“The people outside lost one of their friends. They had asked me if I saw one of them-.”

“What people? I see no one.”

“Huh? I- they were just out there I swear Fei-.” You stutter trying to prove there were just people outside.

“You are hallucinating. You need sleep.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with Feitan so you just did what he said. You weren’t hallucinating you knew you saw them you just had to prove it to Feitan.

The next day you decide to get proof that they are out there. They would surely come back. You made it your plan to go out there and meet them, and get a picture with them to show Feitan. You were going to take your gun just in case, and a camera. Just because you wanted to meet them didn’t mean they were good people you still had to be aware of the world you were still currently in.

You would get a couple of photos of them, and meet them. Just to see how they were as people, and maybe you could join their group part time. Maybe even help them look for their lost teammate. Though you had to wait when Feitan left to leave again.

You told yourself that you needed to be back before he did. You saw him mad before, but you could tell he was really serious about you not leaving where he placed you, so you needed to make sure to avoid that scenario.

You waited a couple hours, when Feitan got himself together to leave.

“I’m going now. Don’t look out the window again. I have something to tell you when I get back.”

“What is it?” You asked wanting to know now.

“I said when I get back.”

“What if you don’t come back.” You spat at him.

He only glared at you before leaving. He didn’t know why you were acting so different lately. Maybe you just needed some fresh air?

“I’ll take you somewhere when I get back.” He thought to himself.

You waited till you saw him leave with Phinks to prepare your bag to leave. You had a gun, and couple knives Feitan gifted you, your camera, and bullets. You waited till you saw them again and rushed outside to meet them. They were walking in front you, you just needed to get their attention.

“Uhm hi!”

They all turned in unison and looked at you weirdly. Their eyes seemed dazed, almost like they were confused. They were pale looking you just thought they haven’t eaten in a while. I mean it is hard to find food around here right?

“You guys seem a little hungry yeah? Uh I have a couple of scraps in my buliding I share it with my uh boyfriend so-.”

You were cut off by one of the members loud groaning. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise. You stood there confused on why you felt afraid, and why they were acting like this.

Feitan was raiding abandoned buildings nearby with Phinks. Phinks was looking out the window while Feitan was in the back ripping some dudes teeth out.

He spotted you frozen in place standing behind whisperers.

“Oh shit. Feitan I think there’s a problem.”

“What?” Again there was a hint of annoyance in Feitan voice due to Phinks distracting him from torturing his poor victim.

Feitan walked over to Phinksand looked out the window. His eyes widened in shock. He ran out the building trying to get to you as fast as he could.

Back with you, you smelled the familiar smell of a rotting corpse though you didn’t see any dead bodies around. You looked back up at the group of people one last time. These weren’t people.

You turned around to run away. In the midst of running you pulled out your gun to turn around and shoot the zombies. You fired three bullets at the zombies. The bullets stopped in mid air and paralleled back to you.

“But how? These aren’t people who can use nen?” You thought to yourself.

Your eyes widened in fear. Just as you were about to meet your fate Feitan pulled out his concealed sword, and adverted the bullets killing off three of the zombies. Although there was one left.

“I’ve got this one.” Phinks was eager to see what the whisper had in store for him.

Feitan didn’t hesitate to grab you and bring you back to your place of residence. Once you two got there you didn’t say anything, and turned around to leave. Feitan stopped you right in your tracks.

“What the hell were you doing?”

You got teary eyed and looked away.

“I wanted to show you that the people I was talking to yesterday were real, so I went out to get a photo with them. I just wanted to show you that I wasn’t some crazy person.”

You stumbled on your words and began to choke on your sobs. Feitan just stared at you he wasn’t big on physical affection nor did he really understand it, but he could understand when some needed a hug. Feitan went up to you from behind and embraced you. It was short, but it was something nonetheless. You didn’t want his warmth to leave, so you grab his hand bring him back close to you. You started to mumble little sorry’s here and there.

You two stood there for a little while before he took you to your shared bedroom. You won’t be going out for a while after this.

[switchcase]

Not going to lie, I did get a bit offended that after saying "academic articles about severe sadistic abuse usually cite Torture That Kills People Slowly and Horrifically and also the Holocaust as examples" I got a follow up question asking if gaslighting and CSA count as torture.

Idk man you guys have GOT to start working on that whole "have to have it really bad to be valid" and trauma olympics shit and this fucked up concept that your history/brain has to be unique and special all the damn time. Cause the minute it leaves your mouth, it affects more people than just you.

When you dilute terminology you make spaces for survivors more difficult to navigate. When you strip language from survivors you are taking away their voice. When you strip the meaning from these words you make it so that people become reactive to those survivors talking about their experiences. Everyone will go up in arms about how gaslighting isn't just pranking or lying but you really think it's ok to do the same thing to other forms of abuse?

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I���m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[smuttykdrama]

[Hyunsu x Fem!Survivor!Reader / Sweet Home Season One]

Warnings: Depression, ED if you squint, Cha Hyunsu needs a hug, Self loathing, Eunhyuk is an ass in this, Kissing, Hyunsu is baby boy - .

Plot: You and Eunhyuk have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but your eyes are on Hyunsu. You comfort him as he goes through a hard time after going on missions for Eunhyuk.

Story under the cut!

"What does it matter to you if he's in pain or not? He's a monster who could turn at any time. He's in there to protect us."

Eunhyuk paced around outside Hyunsu's room he was confined in, scowling at you.

"(Y/N). This is my last warning. Don't get close to Cha Hyunsu. He'll only hurt you if he turns. I need to protect you-"

You sighed, angrily folding your arms, tears building up in your eyes. How could Eunhyuk, your best friend, be so cold towards another? Hyunsu was basically a prisoner in this place. They made him work all day and night exploring the building and fighting monsters, leaving him exhausted when he got back. At this point, you doubted that Eunhyuk even fed him or took care of his half healed wounds.

"Ya, Lee Eunhyuk, how could you be so thoughtless? Hyunsu has done nothing wrong. He's still human, like you and me! How could you lock him in that room and starve him?! Not to mention leaving him to heal by himself!"

You yelled furiously, really upset. You were the only one who dared approach Hyunsu, and you could tell he wasn't doing well mentally or physically.

"He isn't a human. He's a monster. I can't risk you getting hurt trying to fix him."

Eunhyuk stated calmly, unfazed by your outburst. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart.

"I'm doing this for you. Feel this? My heart beats only for you, so why? Why are you so obsessed with Cha Hyunsu?"

His voice seethe with jealousy. Ah. So torturing Hyunsu was Eunhyuk's way of showing his jealousy. You always knew that Eunhyuk had a crush on you ever since middle school. But as you grew older, his attitude became more stoic and stern.

"I don't give a fuck about your little crush on me, Lee Eunhyuk. You've hurt my Hyunsu, and you're going to pay for it one day. Leave me. I'm going to see him and you can't stop me."

And with that, you walked away, entering Hyunsu's room. Eunhyuk was stunned and angered, but knee he couldn't stop you. You'd soon find out not to trust a monster. As you stepped inside, you softly called out,

"Hyunsu?"

He immediately recognised your voice and ran over to you like a lost puppy. His averting eyes and soft voice made your heart flutter. He rubbed his arm gently, mumbling.

"(Y-Y/N)? Oh...hi."

Hyunsu greeted, his head hanging low. You were appalled by the mere sight of him. He had torn clothes, bruises everywhere, half healed cuts, and looked genuinely exhausted.

"Hyunsu...how have you been?"

He looked down, gulping nervously.

"Fine.."

"Cha Hyunsu. You don't look fine...how long has it been, sweetheart?"

His head snapped up in confusion.

"How long since what?"

"How long since you've rested and had a meal?"

Hyunsu anxiously twiddled with his fingers, unable to keep still. Over the past week, you'd become someone very precious to him, ever since you'd stopped him from ending his life. He didn't want to tell you the truth. He didn't want you to worry about him...but Hyunsu knew that you'd find out eventually.

"Five days, noona..I haven't slept..the monster..it's hurting.."

He whispered sadly, unable to contain his depressed thoughts. He continued,

"I'm a monster. Monsters don't sleep or need food, right? And I'm In here because I'm a threat to everyone. Noona, it's dangerous, you should leave."

You were stunned; to see such a sweet person talking down on themselves felt extremely sad. Hyunsu's eyes filled with tears as he turned away from you, prompting you to move closer, until your front was completely up against his back. You back hugged him, snaking your hands around his waist.

"Hyunsu...you're not a monster. You're our savior, I can't imagine how exhausting this has been for you. To protect everyone. all while keeping a distance, unable to interact properly. I'm sorry about Eunhyuk and the others. They don't understand."

A tear slipped down his sunken cheek.

"Hyunsu - ah, I've brought you some food."

You said, breaking the hug and offering him some ramen. Hyunsu's eyes went wide as he saw the food. He was starving, but didn't want to trouble anyone anymore.

"I'm a monster. I won't die if I don't eat."

He stated simply, turning back around again.

"But..Hyunsu..that doesn't mean you won't feel hunger."

"I'll just...not eat..."

He insisted stubbornly. You sighed angrily and lifted his chin up with yoru hand suddenly.

"Cha Hyunsu. Eat. Eat or I'll force feed you. Then get some sleep. I'll lay with you."

You ordered him gently, but firmly, glaring into his eyes. He finally gave in, grabbing a few pieces of the ramen from you before retreating to his bed. You pulled up another chair and sat next to him, watching him consume the noodles. After a moment, he put down the bowl and turned to face you.

"Thank you, Noona...nobody else had bothered to visit me.."

Hyunsu got up from the makeshift bed and leaned over, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Your face burned bright red as he shyly and softly kissed you.

"God, Hyunsu. Stay safe on your missions for Eunhyuk, okay? You're mine. And I don't want you hurting what's mine."

Hyunsu could've died. You. his Noona...liked him? Even if he was a depressed, tired monster, you accepted him.

"O-okay..."

Hyunsu smiled, taking your hand in his. You ruffled his hair.

"Good boy."

Eunhyuk stares at the door.

[dadyscumslutprincess20]

Hi love your writing I wanted to request that uhm.. gosh how do I explain this

So in season 1 reader and cha Hyun soo were friends , she somehow gets along with his monster side often chatting with him. So reader notices signs of becoming a monster and decides to burn herself (you know for the greater good).

She leaves a letter addressed to Hyun soo and also his monster side about how much she loves them and she's sorry for being a coward (or you can change it that she makes a video addressed to the both of them )

Fast forward to season 2 let's say ah yi and Hyun soo are getting attacked by monsters and Hyun is low key losing and is about to get punched by one of the monsters until the monster catches on fire

Revealing reader who is alive so yeah that's the request

Omg I love this 💕

Cha Hyun su x Fem!Reader

Regular : Hyun su , Reader

Bold : Purple , Readers Monster

Bold : Regular, Hyun su monster

Genre: angst , romance

Warning ⚠️ : death , suicide , strong language

Small summary: It’s been while since you became close with Hyun su , even having your moments with his monster side , slowly growing a crush for both Hyun su and his monster with in him .. while Hyun su was upstairs getting supplies for the survivors of Green Home as your nose starts to bleed while your in the bathroom.. but it wasn’t the first time either

It’s been about 4 months since the apocalypse started, during those few months you started to become close to everyone that remained alive in Green Home

More so Hyun su, you both met when everything first started since you happen to live a door down from his apartment , you ran into him while you were heading down stairs to the small convenience/grocery store to get a few items you needed to finish your dinner

Steeping out of your apartment as your shoes crunched against something causing you to look down as you saw a trail of ramen noodles scattered all across the floor leading toward the apartment next door , slowly following the trail as you stopped in you tracks seeing that the person from the apartment over also came out , squinting your eyes as you analyze the boy since you never s em him before before you heard a noise from the apartment you were now in front of both tuning to see what the noise was you see a weird , deformed arm snatched what seemed to be a cats head as blood was all over the floor

After that you and Hyun su just seemed to grow closer , there was times were you would even chat with the monster inside him as he seemed like a cool person in your eyes .. just a bit misunderstood

Letting out a sigh as you shake the thoughts out of your head , looking into the mirror as your body freezes, eyes becoming wide as you stare at your reflection… your nose was bleeding a unnatural amount of blood as you start to slightly panic , quickly turning on the warm water front he sink using your head to quickly wipe away the blood before any one came in the bathroom

After 15 minutes of cleaning your car you slowly turn off the water as you stare at your reflection, body becoming numb as you notice your eyes becomes completely black as you start to hear a voice playing in your head causing your to shiver

‘You know .. you can those me for ever Reader’

‘Shut the fuck up’ you slightly cry out trying to ignore whatever she had to say to you

‘ Do you really think he’ll love you..’ the voice in your head says as it taunts you with amused laced in its voice

‘I mean .. who would ever love someone that couldn’t even protect their younger siblings from their crazies parents’ the voice continues to taunt you as you let out silent cries , covering your mouth with one hand as you stare at your reflection, a second version of you now appears beside you , wide smile on her face as her black eyes stares into your brown one through the reflection

‘Or that you watched as your younger siblings were tortured to in front of you , how your parents sold you off to a stranger, but you decided to leave which causes the death of you pore brother and sister’

“Shut up” you cry out , soon coming to your senses as you feel a touch to your shoulder causing you to jump as you let out a soft gasp

Turing to see that it was Eun-yu , checking to see if you were okay , giving her quick nod yes as you quickly wipe away your tears heading out of the bathroom ignoring as Eun-yu called after you

Quickly heading for your back pack that was left on your stepping mat as you unzip it open taking out your sketch book along with your pencil that you decided to bring down with you , taking a sit on your mat as you quietly start to think to your self letting out a soft sigh as your head start to move along the paper

Making a small sign that read ‘Play Me’ as you place the letter down on your bed , picking up your phone as your powered it on , sighing with happiness as the screen came to life , quickly unlocking your phone , making sure to take the lock off for anyone who came across your phone

Heading for the camera icon on your phone as you press for the rescued screen easing your phone enough that your face is shown as you fix your hair to your best ability before the video started to play recording anything from this point

“H-Hi Hyun su.. umm, I don’t know where to start exactly” you say as you look at your lap for a few seconds before looking back at the camera showing biting your lip a bit out of nervousness

“ well let’s start off by saying I really enjoyed our time together.. you made me happy and I haven’t felt happy in a long time” you say with a slight smile still looking into the camera as you start to speak again

“ And some where during that time I started to like not only you but the other side of you to.. and it hurts me to keep this from you..” you say as tears start to form in your eyes quickly using your free hand to wipe the tears away

“ but I’m turning.. and I been for a while now , I just didn’t know how to tell you , I’m afraid that if I turn I’ll hurt the people I started to care so much for.. so it best if I just end it here, I don’t want to live with the fear of hurting anyone .. especially you, my biggest fear is to turn into a monster that lost their memory, I rather die with them .. you know” you say with a small smile as you look into the camera

“I’ll forever love you both Hyun su..” you say smile still on your face as tears fall down your face , ending the video as you place the phone on top of the note , you knew he would find it , since he always came to you after finishing a mission

Standing to your feet as you head for the small fire place that was made it the sleeping area , seeing that you were the only one in the area , as you take a sit a few centimeters away from the fire , eyes watching as the fire makes popping and sparking sounds

‘It’s for the best’ you thought , hand slowly raising as you become in a trance arm slowly reaches close to the fire as the flames slowly starts to connect to your skin burning your clothes in the process as wi thin a few seconds your body becomes covered in flames as you fall back letting out a plain full scream felling as your life starts to slowly sift away , not hearing the bloody screams of horro that now filled the room as the taming survivors stare at you in horror , as Eun-Yu and Ji- soo rushes to you quickly throwing a blanket over you as they try their best to put out the fire … but it was to late … you were already gone as the room now feel silent

Eun-yu slowly raising to her feet as she stares at your cover formed in horror , tears following down her face as Ji-soo slowly removes the burned blanket.. only to see your burned up body , as your mouth was still open from the painful screams , eyes string at the door frame as every one starts to get goosebumps

After a while they buried your body , Hyun su soon coming down not to long after screaching for your missing figure as you always met him at the door .. heading for your rock as he stops in his tracks .. seeing a note on your bed with your phone on top as he looks at it with curiosity

Slowly heading for your bed as he carefully sits down his spear , taking a seat on your bed eyes not leave your phone or the note once as he notices it say ‘play me’ , slowly reaching for the phone as he hesitantly opens the phone seeing it was left on a video that was made 30 minutes ago , slowly pressing play as his eyes starts to build with tears as the video shortly comes to a end , Eun - yu standing in the door frame eyes still filled with tears

“She killed her self while you were gone… she knew” Eun - Yu says as she leaves the room shortly after leaving a broken Hyun su

It’s been a year now since Hyun su last say you as his heart still brakes at the thought , sitting on a near by vehicle only a couple feet away as he watches Ah-yi , who plays with her small monster friend that she made a while ago

She was 14 years old now and Hyun su could remember how small she was not to long ago , she was like a daughter to him and since Readers death she was the only thing that he had left and he did anything he could to protect her

Although there was times were he felt like he was being watched , even his monster side started to notice but could never figure out who or what it was , when ever they tried to find the person or thing it seemed to leave in a block of an eye with Hyun su not being able to get not even a glance at the figure .. but he knew he was being watched

As he continued to watch Ah-yo he started to get a weird feeling , like there was something bad going to happen , shaking his head at the thought thinking he was just overreacting

Sliding off the vehicle as he standing to his feet as he slowly walks towards Ah-yo and he friend , but before he could get any closer he heard guns shoots soon following by multiple voices

Freezing in his spot as he soon realizes what was going on as he feels the monster with in his start to take control quickly running for Ah-you , picking her up in a swift motion as the guns shoots follow after Hyun su , keeping a tight hold of Ah-yi as he dodges every bullet his way , making sure her friend was keeping up the pace as he make a quick turn coming to a blocked off road full of sink holes

Putting Ah-yi down as he pushes he behind him along with her small friend , as he arm quickly turns into a wing , hitting the closet two men in front of him as he notices they aren’t soldiers but survivors

“Stay back , I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you” Hyu su says eyes staring at each of the fifteen men , voice laces with venom was he holds a cold expression

As one of the men let’s put a loud laugh as he signaling the men to attack but before they could get any closer or Hyun su could attack , a burst of flames that seemed to come from the ground as the the men set ablaze letting out blood cradling screams

Dropping to their knees as Hyun su’s blue eyes watches them out of confusion and curiosity, eyes slowly poking up as he noticed a figure slowly walking towards him , eyes being wide as the figure walks through the men the were screaming from pain as the flames slowly took their lives

There you stood , short hair that was always cut in a bob now past your shoulders , your hair now held into a bushy ponytail to the back of your head

Eyes examining your figure as he notices your no longing wear a oversized sweater and jeans , you were now in shorts that’s showed off your curves , and a half tank top that showed off your lowered stomach and your huge breast , high thigh boots that had a 3-4 inch heel that stopped mid thigh

Looking towards your face as he sees your lips shining in the sun for the lip gloss you wore , looking into your eyes as he gives off a smile smile , your eyes shined a bright green mixed with your natural brown color

“Your alive” Hyun su says eyes now back to normal as he walks closer towards you quickly pulling your in to a hug giving you a passionate kiss as he slowly pulls away , as Ah-yi watches with adoration wondering if you were the one he talked so much about

[krypticcafe]

any chance for dbd killers (especially myers) reacting to a partner who wants to take the relationship real slow? how would they take it? would they push, or be respectful? patience? bonus for cuddle time 💜✨

DBD killers w/a partner who wants to take it slow

rating: teen

character(s): GN!Reader, Shape/Michael Myers, Ghostface/Danny "Jed" Olsen, The Executioner/Pyramid Head, The Cannibal/Bubba Sawyer, Legion/Frank Morrison

warning(s): suggestive themes, canon-typical violence and behavior, language

a/n: pardon the unannounced hiatus, cue the usual fanfic writer life drama, gonna be dusting off the request box :]

Michael

Thank. GOD. He's not gonna say it, but Michael's beyond relieved because he's just not comfortable jumping into things, or anything at all. He likes consistency, not change, so he really needs the time to even just adjust to the fact that he's actually letting this relationship happen (no offense). Even the first time he let you live, he felt all irritated about it because it just felt wrong. But after he saw you leave med packs for him from time to time, lurk behind him while he was off chasing others, he started to grow a little more lenient towards you, much to your pleasure.

After you see the approval in his eyes, you're relieved, too. It's not that you thought Michael wouldn't take the suggestion well, it's that it was the first time you two were seriously discussing your relationship. Neither of you put a label on yourselves, you just both knew that you liked each other a little more than you did with other people. Kind of like a silent agreement.

But now you take confidence in knowing you can be as slow as you want with him, after all, you both have all of eternity to work it out, or at least until the Entity decides to do something about it. Though seeing as they haven't stopped you so far, you're probably fine for now.

It's a long time until you guys show any actual physical affection. The closest it's been is Michael getting revenge on people who use you as bait and grabbing your wrist to pull you to a safe spot while you help clean his gear during visits in between matches and lean on him or he holds you in his lap while sitting in comfortable silence (you've caught him falling asleep on a few occasions).

Expect it to take a while more if you guys actually want to get intimate, he's just too much of a 'business first' guy.

All in all, mission success.

Danny

"Like how slow?"

You should've expected this. While Michael is relieved, Danny, well, he doesn't take it as well. He's one of the clingiest of all the killers and makes it difficult not to be paranoid all the time of someone finding out. He's a hands-on type of guy and this... is kind of torture for him.

After some insistence and some pleading on your side, he'll give in, but it's not guaranteed. He has to resist his urges like some little kid trying not to open Christmas presents a day early. All day, every day, he's just thinking about smothering you in his touch, and it gets him frustrated (in both ways), so he has to take it out somehow.

You can literally see it in real-time when he's cutting through survivors like butter, not even bothering to act playful or make quips, just snarling and hissing at them like a feral cat. You make a mental note to give him a bit of something after the match, like a kiss or some cuddle time.

Other than that, he whines. A lot. Like it's so fucking annoying please make him shut up with a kiss or something, the killers can't stand hearing him bitch incoherently and you can only take so much of it as well. Also, he's a manipulative ass to expect him to be pushy and try to pressure you here and there.

It's kinda funny though, in a way you sorta conditioned him to feel even more euphoric when you do anything romantic with him. He's asking, no, begging for extra kisses, holding you real tight when you cuddle, and you swear you can feel him melting under your touch. Heart eyes and all, he's so obsessed with you.

Whenever you let him know you're ready to move things forward, expect him to be a little overexcited about it. Like if you finally let him get in your pants, he's gonna work you like there's no tomorrow, all that pent-up energy is flooding out the door.

I'm sorry, but you're literally caging an animal by asking *the* Ghostface to take it slow. He's only gonna get more hungry over time.

Pyra

Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think he cares. Like he's fine taking it as slow as you want, it's not a huge deal to him, and really, he has no room for judgment outside of killing people. You'll ask and he'll respond with the usual metallic grunt and boom. Problem solved.

In all honesty, it's probably good to take it slow with him if you want a nice, loving relationship with him. Because of his lack of experience, fast-paced relationships might just be too much for him to deal with, but taking your time lets him process how it even works. Dates, kissing, and anything beyond that aren't in his area of expertise, nor did he ever expect it to be, it's not his primary purpose.

This allows him to welcome something new in his life for once beyond the mundane life of Silent Hill and the matches in the realm of the Entity. He's not used to actually having personal priorities, so the adjustment period progresses along with your relationship. He's quick to find out that he really likes physical contact with you, too.

Most likely you'll be taking the initiative with him, teaching him the little things you like to do like cuddling and holding each other close. He really likes that, being able to just envelope you and keep you safe and close in such a comfortable manner.

I don't he exactly has a concept of... 'horny', it's more of a hunger I guess? A hunger to be close and in your presence, so he kinda has times when he'll stick to your side like a big old scary guard dog. If you wanna indulge him a little, go ahead.

Yeah, I can't really say much for him other than it is what it is.

Bubba

He tries his best to be patient, he really does. Bubba's more than understanding about it, because he's already elated that you love him back in the first place! Though sometimes he just really wants to pepper your face in kisses and smother you in love, pick you up and swing you around in his arms, take you to some of the nicer parts of the Entity's realm, he almost forgets they all live in some sick game.

Horrible advice, but try not to be so... cute around him. I like to think he has cuteness aggression, so it's very hard to keep his hands to himself when you look so... so... nope, no, Bubba, focus, you're supposed to be chasing Ace right now- oooo but don't wanna just eat them up and make them yours!

He wants to do so much with you but it's kind of for the best to keep him from rushing into things. Even he's a little worried that he'll tire you out from his eagerness to get things moving. Hell, he even spooked himself when he found himself daydreaming about marrying you mid-match. He can't help it though, it's the southern love in him that gets him all antsy (he thinks you'd look very nice in a suit or dress if you're wondering).

Yeah, and don't think you don't know either, not when he's humming "Here Comes the Bride" while sawing up Kate in halves in front of you.

Oh, and you thought the wedding fever was bad? Wait until the baby fever kicks up. Since day one of falling in love with you, this man has been dreaming of church bells, vows, cribs, pacifiers, and all that. He's never told you it in full detail but you just know he does. Whether you want it for your relationship or not, he still loves you nonetheless.

Despite it all, you help remind him to appreciate what's in the moment, that you both have an eternity together in damnation to get to that point. So long as time and the Entity are on your side, he's more than happy to take things slow with you and he'll be sure to enjoy every moment you have together.

Frank

"You're joking, right?"

No surprise here either, Frank doesn't take it all too well. He's an impatient bastard and mostly thinks with his dick more than his head sometimes. To be honest, he never even anticipated getting into a relationship with you. He thought most of the survivors were annoying and unlikable in their own ways, he even found you irritating at some point just not as much as the others, or so he'd claim.

You try to explain to him why and unfortunately, it does result in a back and forth between you two, the other members of Legion even chiming in on your defense. It's until you point into his face that you both literally have forever in this endless hell so "what's the big deal about us taking our time" and for him to just think about it for a bit.

And yeah he does, but it takes a while for Frank to wrap his head around it. He's used to just getting what he wants, jumping into things headfirst, and figuring out the details from there. His whole philosophy defies normalcy, defies everything he hates about Ormond and the banal, suburban society it is. He lives for the rush, the excitement, the recklessness. Time and care in a relationship remind him too much of a "normal life".

But the others remind him there's nothing normal about where they are now. Hell, they get to wreak havoc and chaos in the trials, it's everything they dreamed of. Making a statement for themselves. And frankly (no pun intended), he likes you a little too much to let it go. So instead of rushing himself into things, he finds a new thrill in testing the limits. He teases you with lingering touches and suggestive remarks, leaves you wanting, craving just a little more of that.

He clicks his tongue, "I thought we were taking it slow?"

That little bitch. He's got you wrapped around his finger and you know it. But don't think you're the only one aching, no. Call him a sadomasochist because it's practically killing him too, how much he has to hold back. Yet it's such a rush, keeping his hands to himself and itching for the day when you let him do whatever. He. Wants.

[iamleesi]

THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x OC! Avenger Reader

Summary: You were rescued from Hydra and then joined the Avengers. Bucky seems to hate you and you’re sent on a mission together for indefinite time.

Warnings: Mention of experiments, torture and d3ad bodies and things like that. Don’t read if you’re not comfortable with that. Bucky being a bit of an asshole towards you. Also the reader has a name and a last name if that counts as a warning?

Other: This will be some sort of MCU x Supernatural fic. English isn’t my fist language so I apologize in advance for any mistake I made. -> 18+ !!

-> Masterlist

-> Part two

-> Hydra is home (01)

You were born in hell. That’s what Hydra was for you and for everyone who had witnessed the horrors of what happened inside the walls of that place - and there was more than one facility. The worst part is that you didn’t even know, you thought it was normality.

You thought it was normal being used and trained to be a lethal assassin at a young age; you were the youngest and they made you feel special for that. Hydra’s perfect child, that’s how they called you. The only toy you’ve ever had was a knife, and you never questioned it or thought it was horrifying up until you were an adult.

From the earliest age, you were taught that your suffering served a greater purpose, that your pain was going to save that fucked up world you lived in. Not that you had any idea of which color the sky was up until you were six, let alone knowing the rest of the world and it’s shit. You knew no other life besides the walk between your room and the laboratory - the place where you were tied up to those cold metal tables under the gaze of Hydra’s scientists.

But to you, that was normality. That was home, the place you were the safest in - they said. Hydra fed you lies all your life, making you think their atrocities were for the greater good and that you were needed. What they were doing was needed.

Worst thing? You never complained. Always complied.

You learned later on in years that you were being used to recreate a better Super Soldier serum, like the one they used on Captain America and The Winter Soldier. A better, more effective serum that was gonna give them their disciplined weapon, with a few more characteristics. It was a mystery how you survived, to you and to everyone who took a look in your DNA.

They made you a freak.

When you were fifteen, things changed and your whole world turned upside down. It was in the middle of the night that you heard the facility’s alarm, the loud and scary sound meant one thing: bad people had broke in. So you did as you practiced: you moved the rug on floor and used that safety trapdoor to hide, hoping that they wouldn’t find you.

Meanwhile, SHIELD agents were storming in every room of the base, looking for either survivors or Hydra members.

Your heart stopped when the little door above you swung open and you saw a masked man pointing a rifle at you. Hydra was right, you decided then, those were bad people. You don’t exactly remember what happened after, you don’t remember if you tried to fight them or if you passed out. Everything is a blur memory.

What you do remember next, though, is being taken to yet another facility. In the beginning all you could see were monsters who wanted to feed you lies; they said Hydra was bad, that they were a terroristic organization who aimed to rule the world. Crazy, wasn’t it?

Hydra was home.

You didn’t collaborate with them for years, not even when Maria Hill offered you visive proof of how fucked up Hydra was. It was impossible that all you knew, all that you’ve been taught was a lie.

But there was another part: the pain stopped. No more experiments or missions to catch the bad guys with the little help all those samples gave you. No more blood or guns or atrocities - nothing.

Many people amongst SHIELD agents only saw you as just another freak, but weaker than Captain America and with a twisted brain. They saw you as no more than just another Hydra experiment, one that could not be good. You had no name, no family, no friends - you were just existing… and for what? You yourself didn’t know.

Nick Fury was the one who was interested in you. You had heard his name being mentioned a few times before actually meeting him. Perhaps it was just because you had some sort of Super Soldier serum in you and he was only caring for that, but he stepped in and helped you whether you wanted or not.

And he succeeded.

He saw beyond those scars, visible and invisible, recognizing the potential you could have as an actual human being. Fury insisted in your rehabilitation, and with time he saw the first results.

It took you a lot of time and effort to feel like a human being for the first time in 23 years, it wasn’t an easy process by any means and you still weren’t a hundred percent okay with everything. Being told that for fifteen years of you life you were nothing more than a sack of meat with a functioning brain for people to use to their advance wasn’t exactly ideal, especially after learning that it wasn’t normal as you thought.

At first you didn’t even realize how fucked up it was, perhaps you didn’t want to.

But under SHIELD’s care, you started to heal both physically and mentally as best as you could. You were given a name as soon as you were rescued, but you didn’t accept it up until you were 20.

Emma Dayne, that was your new legal name as a free woman. One that had a say in her own life.

That was the name Fury used when you were brought into the Avengers Compound as the newest addition to the team. You, a superhero? Sometimes you felt like you didn’t deserve it. Those people fought against the very same people you called family, those same people who raised you. Thankfully, they never held you accountable for that.

Except him.

James Buchanan Barnes. When he looked at you, all he saw was the enemy: someone who, unlike him, had willingly served Hydra for more than half of her life. He made it clear from the start that he didn’t trust you, he was always cold (which wasn’t rare, but even colder with you) and guarded whenever you were around.

Whenever his eyes found your figure, he couldn’t shake off the memories of his past as the Winter Soldier. The feeling of loss for the years that were stolen from him and that life he could never go back to came back as soon as he saw you, and he started to loathe the sight of you - he felt even worse when he saw how much the other teammates liked you.

But you could not blame him. Not even a bit. You took his silence as a reminder of what you had done - maybe if you had opened your eyes sooner you could have done something, anything, to help him.

After all, you two weren’t completely strangers. You both had worked for the same organization, and you saw him from time to time - you felt guilty. As soon as you saw the hatred in his eyes, when you joined the team, you were consumed by guilt.

But then again, the last time you saw him you were eleven. Super Soldier or not, you were a kid. Your therapist - saint woman - was helping you with that, at least. You knew that earning his trust was gonna take time, and maybe a lifetime wasn’t enough - you knew that in his position you would have been the same. Perhaps his trust wasn’t even your goal, you didn’t know what you wanted from him. You just knew that every time his eyes fell on you, you felt small. Smaller than a bug, and you wanted to change that.

You wanted him to know that you weren’t the enemy he thought you were.

It was a Saturday afternoon when Tony Stark’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, contemporarily snapping his fingers to get your attention. “Dayne, stop thinking about princesses and unicorns. I need your attention, sweetie.”

“Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” You replied, crossing your legs under the big, round wooden table. You were in the meeting room with the other Avengers - most of them, anyways, and their eyes were all on you. Not judging, some had smiles on their faces.

Except one who wasn’t even looking at you.

“Happens to the best of us too.” He shrugged it off, pointing at himself with a grin. Usual. “But seriously, now I need everyone’s attention or I fear Fury might kill me.” He continued.

“What’s the situation, Tony?” Steve Rogers inquired, his usual serious expression on.

Tony leaned forward on the table, after he sat down as well, clasping his hands together. “We’ve been getting reports of Hydra activity in various parts of the States.” He explained. “Specifically, they’ve been targeting civilians. They’re kidnapping them for, what we suspect, making experiments. They’re targeting people with no family, no friends or someone who wouldn’t look for them. They found the first body near the Donner Lake, in California. The first we were able to identify, at least.”

A picture of a woman appeared on a screen behind Tony, and he continued. “Taylor Harris. She was their first slip- up, as the woman had an ex husband and a kid. He divorced her because apparently she had an addiction to drugs and was physically abusive towards the kid. Ever since then, he got a restraining order against her and the full custody of the kid. Should have gone to jail but she went missing. She actually got missing three weeks ago, and she’s been presumably dead for at least a week.”

“What makes us think this is Hydra?” Clint said, his voice stern. The man had tried to retire about six times and yet there he was. “America is full of psychopaths.”

“True.” Tony nodded. “But they made some tests and traces of the Super Soldier serum was found. If it’s not Hydra, then I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“I thought they had the Super Soldier serum already.” Thor frowned, his mighty Mjolnir always by his side. “Why are they kidnapping people?”

“They had something else. They weren’t able to recreate it after they used it on Bucky.” You said, looking at the God. “They tried everything to come close to it, but pretty much all the subjects they experimented on died. Some turned into… things. And eventually got killed when they didn’t comply. I was the only result they had.”

“So… they want another you.” Thor looked at you.

You shrugged. “They want a lot of things. Probably they’re looking forward to make something that can’t break out of their control.”

“If you were ever out of their control.” You heard him mumble those words under his breath, but no one else seemed to hear. You were used to it by now, so you stayed silent as the conversation between the Avengers went on.

“So what do we do?” Natasha sighed, crossing her arms under her chest. Both her feet on the table as it was a habit of her it seemed.

“We send undercover agents.” Tony answered. “The agents being you.” He gestured to the whole room. “Or half of you, the ones suited for the job.” He added.

“Great.” Clint grunted.

“Natasha and Clint, you’re assigned to Las Vegas, Nevada - don’t look at me like that. Fury’s orders.” Tony pointed at the annoyed may sat next to Natasha. All he wanted was some time to play golf, and he was always called in for a new mission. He couldn’t even hear properly anymore.

“Steve and Sharon, you lovebirds are going to Denver, Colorado.” He went on, reading the pair of agents from his phone. “Yelena and Kate, have fun in Lawrence, Kansas.“

“And then… oh. Emma and James, you’re going to Lincoln, Nebraska.” Tony put his phone down. “Sam is momentarily busy in California where they found the body, so for now this is everything. You guys will find other agents there, you’ll meet them once you arrive.”

“Why these cities?” Bucky asked, clenching his jaw. This was the first mission where he was paired up with you, and he didn’t like it one bit. But knowing Fury, there was nothing he could do to change it.

“Because that’s where SHIELD suspects Hydra’s activity. There are some bodies that have been found specifically in these places, they’re unrecognizable and have been there for longer than poor Taylor. They believe they have undercover agents there, so that’s who you have to find.” Tony answered, chewing some cashews he kept in his pockets. For some reason.

“When do we have to leave?” Yelena asked, snatching some cashews from Tony’s hands.

He glared at her before answering. “You’re needed there Monday morning already, I fear. You have today and tomorrow to pack your things and get out of my sight.” He got up from his chair. “Have fun, fellas.”

“Wait a second, what about me?” Wanda asked as Tony was about to leave the room.

“You’re the backup plan, Granger.” Tony chuckled at his own nickname for Wanda. “So are we. They find them, we step in to take them down. Plus I need someone to punch Loki in the face in case he tries something, you’re the only one strong enough to do it.”

“Hey!” Thor sounded offended. “Not the only one!”

“This place is awful.” Loki mumbled.

“Then leave.” Clint scoffed.

“You’re dismissed, children.” Tony walked out. “Try not to stab each other.”

“And boring too.” Loki added.

* * * *

“You’re supposed to fold your clothes before putting them into the bag.” Bucky’s voice remarked dryly, taking your attention away from your bag.

He was leaning against the doorframe of your room, looking at you sternly. As always.

“Thanks for the tip, Barnes.” You retorted, messily throwing a pair of pants inside the bag. You weren’t really having it, ever since you learned that Hydra was kidnapping people to do to them what they did to you. Except that those people had a life before. “What do you want?”

He walked into your room without even asking for permission and tossed a stack of paper on your bed. “The details of this mission and our fake identities, wifey.” He sounded quite calm but you could see he was pissed about it, he always was when it came to you. “Thought you may want to take a look.”

“Uh?” You frowned at the unusual nickname, picking up the papers and reading as fast as you could, until your eyes landed on the role you had to play.

His wife.

What a joke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, as you felt his burning eyes on you. It’s nothing you haven’t done before with Sam or even Pietro, but pretending to love him and be all affectionate with him in public when this was the longest conversation you’ve ever had? That was gonna be interesting, to say the least.

He nodded and turn around to walk out, but before he actually left he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “One wrong move is all I need, Dayne.” He said, and that sounded like a threat.

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and anger bubbling within you. “If I wanted to screw you guys over I would have done it already. It’s been a year, Sergeant, I believe you could trust me by now. Or at least start to.”

“Trust is earned, not given.” He replied, his tone leaving no room for arguments. “And you haven’t earned mine.”

“I’ll fucking live with it.”

“Have a good night.” He said without meaning it in the slightest, before leaving you to yourself once again.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Bucky Barnes was your personal headache.

[punkascas]

okay, so i don't want to, like, Start Something or whatever so we're doing a barely-tagged, separate post. i also realise this is mostly pointless because others have already said what i'm going to say, and did it better, with far more grace, and sound less like an asshole than i do.

but jesus louise helen christ, the weird fucked up ideas people have around abuse and personal responsibility and the effect of trauma. like as an abuse and csa survivor, it genuinely alarms me to read posts that use arguments i remember my dad making. like, i'm assuming most of this rhetoric comes from gen z — maybe that's inaccurate; maybe that's unfair. but right now i'm very much Having A Moment Here that the kids aren't alright.

no 22-year-old should be repeating the same awful, manipulative, logically and morally bankrupt justifications for violence and torture my dad says. like literally what's in the first two episodes of ofmd s2 is torture.

i love ed; he's an amazing character. taika is hella wowza top marks acting him. but like.

like.

torture, my dude. physical and psychological. trauma. harassment. that we see the lasting effects of through s2.

just. i. what??

so here we go, okay. have too many, zealously highlighted screenshots so i can dig into details.

cut to save your dashes. content warning for discussions of abuse and trauma (if that wasn't obvious), as well as spoilers for ofmd s2.

re: ed knew what he was doing was wrong and felt guilty about it at the time:

we have no on-screen, textual examples of this. not in the dialogue; not in the acting; not in the blocking; not in the cinematography or music. nothing.

knowing the crew are overworked and kind of traumatised by all the violence, ed bribes them with cake. because, as we know, cake like tea fixes everything. only ed wasn't even with them to share in the eating of the cake. he made izzy responsible for that. he doesn't give the crew a break; he doesn't choose less ethically-fraught prizes to hunt. there is not one scene of ed talking directly to the crew — until he points a gun at each of them.

we see ed crying (and drinking, and rhino horn-ing [way to help further extinction, man]) but it's always paired with shots or flashbacks that reference stede. ed is still all up in his feelings about stede, and ed confirms this when he tells frenchie the myth about albatrosses never needing to return to land. ed cannot go back, does not want to go back, because he was rejected. (like, stede is literally landed gentry, come on!) all he wants to do instead is stay at sea committing to this unhinged version of unstable, sadistic piracy.

but okay, okay. say we ignore all of that. let's say ed does feel sorry and guilty and ashamed of his actions. he knows what he's doing is wrong and unfair and cruel. that it's harming others. that it's particularly harming the dude that ed has, for better or worse, basically spent his life with (izzy; i mean izzy). ed… still continues to do the things! how far off are we at this point from the definition of malicious? you know action x hurts person b and then you do it anyway. is that honestly a better, happier, more ethically defensible reading of the character?

re: the crew didn't mutiny because they love ed despite his violent, sadistic actions.

mutinies were a thing, yes. but both historically and in the world rules established by the show, mutiny is disincentivised through threats, distraction via extra work, and corporeal punishment. we see both ed and izzy use all three of these to try to prevent the crew from disobeying orders. they didn't wait until the storm and izzy shooting ed to mutiny because they understood or sympathised with ed; they took the chance to kill him then because that was the first real opportunity they'd had. the reward finally out-weighed the risk given that ed was going to kill them all that night anyway.

again, we have no scenes, no dialogue, no visual or audio cues to tell us that the crew understands or loves ed — excluding izzy, obviously. fang could also be on that list, if you take into account his personality and his behaviour both in s1 and later in s2 in the fishing boat scene. but in the first two episodes, we only see the crew show trauma responses around ed. they talk about him but almost never to him. and when they do have a direct conversation with ed, it is either confrontation or head down, submissive, "of course, blackbeard; anything you say" placating. i'm so baffled where the show points to any sign of love from the crew towards ed before his "death".

re: ed can't be held responsible because he was suicidal.

uhm. no. hard no. a harder no than stede's brazilian cherry wood mast. fucked up people do fucked up things but part of being an adult is owning your fucked-upped-ness and not fucking up others while you work on unfucking yourself. children, children are not fully responsible for the impact of their actions on others when they're deep in their feelings, especially if they're feeling their feelings as a trauma response. this is because literally their brain cannot do that kind of control. it doesn't have that software pack installed yet. ed does have all the adult updates installed, even if he isn't running them at that moment. he has no right to take out his feelings on other people: to maim them, to psychologically torture them, to abuse them, to work them to exhaustion. to kill them. he does not get a free pass to do suicide by abused employees. (like suicide by cop but more indirect and passive and harmful.) talk about passive aggressive.

secondly, ed is not just passively suicidal and happy to find new risks that might end his life. he is very purposefully taking izzy with him (see: literally removing the bits of izzy that would help let him walk away from ed; the fact that ed becomes actively suicidal only once he thinks izzy is dead; the whole keeping izzy's corpse in front of his and stede's beach shack i mean inn — the codependence, she runs deep). ed is also putting the crew through the same risks, the same isolation, the same danger. both stede and izzy agreed that ed had gone full scorched earth policy. you don't get forgiven for the murder part of a murder-suicide pact just because of the suicide part. not to mention that no one (once again, you could potentially argue izzy as an exception) was good on a murder-suicide pact with blackbeard.

and then to say the crew felt guilty? i assume i'm misreading that. the crew. felt guilty. for ed's actions. that is, if not victim blaming and if not darvo, a very close inbred cousin of them. like hapsburg jaw inbred close.

re: ed healing and his view of himself as a monster.

to heal means, in part, to accept responsibility for the harm you've caused, whether it was intentional or not. it means making amends. it means building or rebuilding relationships where possible. it means putting the other person or persons' feelings and boundaries and need for safety above your desire for absolution or forgiveness. it means working through your own guilt and shame and anger (or whatever drove you to act the way you did) in a separate space, not with the people you hurt, but someone who can be a step removed, more impersonal and objective to help you reflect and face hard truths as needed. i say this as both someone involved in activism and community reparations and as an abuse survivor who has done nearly 30 years of therapy learning this in order to not hurt people. it's not ed's fault he's fucked up just like it isn't my fault i am. but it is on me, like it is on anyone, to make sure i limited as much as possible the harm i can cause to others because i learned some awful but very effective tricks at a young age to survive.

ed does not really do any of the above. he doesn't say "sorry". he speaks in generalised language. he complains about the cat bell (which he seems to wear only for one day, given the implied timeline with lucius and pete's engagement). i have a model ship on a stand that says "this is a safe space ship" as a joke because i work for the government and have written press releases that sound just like ed's "apology". where you take no responsibility and encourage "the culture" to move on.

so, really, my question becomes: ed sees himself as a monster. in s1, we had enough balance between ed's current actions and his referenced past actions to see this belief as likely untrue. in s2 though — i mean, is it? is that an unfair or inaccurate belief? i can understand how carrying that belief can get in the way of ed's growth and eventual healing but like. from an outside perspective of ed-the-fictional-character. he's not a "good" person. he's capable of and has done and continued to do horrible, cruel things. ethically, can you argue with that statement about him?

re: ed trying to destroy relationships because of his self-worth issues and instead the consequences of his actions proving that he's loved.

this is the point that made me go: right, no, i need to respond. i need to say my piece about this. izzy and the crew suffering ed's violent tyranny and then sticking around on the revenge anyway afterwards is not a sign of love. it is not showing love to bear pain for someone. it not showing love to let someone mistreat you, threaten you, hurt you, maim you. their actions are selfish and done to give them feelings of power and control over you. lying back and thinking of england to get through it is not love. it is absolutely a survival technique. but it is not love when you do it at the expense of yourself or others.

i also disagree that ed was trying to push people away or break his relationships with others. we know from s1 that ed is fairly blasé about whether crew members die. again, we don't see any friendly or intimate exchanges between ed and any of the crew to imply any kind of relationship there beyond "tools who accomplish ed's goals". the one exception, as always, is izzy. and as previously stated, ed seems bound and determined, in a very conscious way, to bring izzy into death with him. ed does everything in his power to make izzy want to kill ed, or at least agree that it's best if ed dies, and to want to kill himself so ed doesn't have to die alone. that isn't ed breaking that relationship; it's making it permanent in a really fucked up shakespearian way. the only relationship we see ed waffle between wanting to keep and wanting to push away is stede. after his corporate "apology" and the fishing trip with fang, all of ed's dialogue is with stede and a little bit with zheng until izzy's death scene. the crew loving ed just isn't a thing, at least not one we're shown. not from either side. ed's relationships are with stede and kind of, sort of with izzy (because he does manage to, if not fully break, do some major damage to that).

love did not save ed. ed wanting to live, because stede came back, because he didn't want to jump off hornigold's cliff in the first place, saved ed. izzy saved everyone else.

so yeah: that's it; that's the post. the rhetoric that abuse is love or that abuse can be "cured" with love or that trauma isn't lasting and serious and has impacts on people's daily lives is just. wild. wild.

and terrifying.

my dad was born in the 40s. why is anyone born in the 80s or later still defending this mindset? it honestly, truly freaks me out.

guess it's good i have a fucking therapy appointment on monday.

[casuallyimagining]

When September Ends // part one.

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.  Word Count: 4,128 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing  explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4bts for the late-game encouragement and edits.

Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.

previous | masterlist | next

Fuck this planet, Yoongi thinks as he stalks his way through the corridors. It’s freezing. It’s always fucking freezing. Granted, it’s an ice planet, but he preferred the last base on the tropical forest moon, thank you very much. Sure, it had been so humid that his hair curled at the ends most days, but at least there, he could feel his toes.

Two junior pilots jump out of the way as he rounds the corner. He doesn’t blame them. He’s probably wearing quite the scowl, and the heavy steps of his boots against the steel flooring leave an angry echo reverberating through the mostly empty halls. For a moment, he considers apologizing–the junior pilots haven’t done anything, and he knows he should at least try to fit himself back in here. But then he’s standing in front of the door to his destination, and the apology dies before it even has the chance to form.

The doors hiss open mechanically, and the council room is already full. Yoongi picks his way through the crowd, eyes on the only empty seat in the room. Someone greets him, and he offers a quick nod in recognition but says nothing else. Suddenly, inexplicably, he’s nervous. This meeting was supposed to be with some of the higher ups–Yoongi expected some majors, a few captains, maybe a colonel. But some of the council is here, and he recognizes at least one general by the five pips on the man’s breastplate. 

Someone clears their throat just as Yoongi sits down, and it only takes a moment for the room to fall eerily quiet. He can feel every pair of eyes focusing on him, and Yoongi would love nothing more than to pull the hood of his puffy coat up over his head and hide away. He’s never been one for attention, but he does his best to appear nonchalant, like he doesn’t want the frozen ground to open up and swallow him whole. (He might not mind if it did.)

“Thank you for coming, Captain Min,” one of the commanders says.

Didn’t really have a choice, Yoongi thinks. But it’s not like I had anything better to do.

“We’ve received your official request to return to duty,” the commander–Commander Vela, Yoongi notes, though he’s only seen the man a small handful of times. “All six of them. Given the circumstances, we wanted to give you the opportunity to discuss this in person.”

What is there to discuss? Yoongi wants back in. He’s bored, itching to get back out in the field. He’s exhausted, he’s not sleeping, but that’s nothing a little adrenaline can’t fix. If he stays here, sitting around, doing nothing, he’s going to go fucking insane. And truthfully, not doing anything feels like he’s letting the Empire win, like Kitt and Feeney and Jieun’s deaths meant nothing. 

And he won’t let that happen.

But instead of saying all that, he says simply, “You need spies. I’m a spy. I don’t see where the issue is.”

Commander Vela hums, his attention falling to the data pad sitting on the table in front of him. “You’ve been through a lot, captain. Most men would, understandably, need to take time off to-”

“I don’t want time off.” Yoongi can tell his interruption isn’t taken well based on the grumbles that ripple through the room. But he can’t help it. If they would just listen to him, he could convince them that he was fine. Or, at least, that he would be fine if he could just get his life back to normal. “I’ve had time off. I want to get back out there. You need me back out there.”

It sounds cockier than he’d intended, but the sentiment is true. They’d just lost three of their best intelligence operatives. Yoongi knows they can’t afford to lose another. 

“How can we guarantee you’ll perform to standard?” A Mon Calamari major pipes up from the corner, his gravelly, grumbly voice cutting through the rabble that Yoongi’s words have caused. “How do you know you’re ready?”

The question catches Yoongi off-guard. “I just do,” he answers, and though it feels like a feeble, desperate answer, his voice comes out cool and confident.

More of the committee speaks up. Yoongi can feel his blood pressure rise as the questions come, both more probing and more asinine. How is he feeling? How is he processing? Is he still up to date on his marksmanship training (even though his marksmanship training was basically just here’s a blaster, go shoot stuff)?

He’s fine. He’s processing well. Why don’t you give him a blaster and stand at twenty paces, and you can check yourself if his training is up-to-date?

Yoongi feels like he’s being interrogated. Do they treat their Imperial prisoners like this? He can feel the heat on his skin, can feel the thrumming in his veins. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, forces himself to unclench his jaw. He can’t let them see how much the questioning has affected him, even if the effect is just to piss him off. If they think he’s anything less than perfectly collected, they’ll never let him back in the field.

A dark-skinned commander is halfway through a long-winded question about security protocols, and safety, and something else that Yoongi has lost track of when a voice rings out above the din of the room.

“This is ridiculous,” it says, and it takes Yoongi a moment to find the speaker.

His heart rate picks up, and he can feel his palms get clammy as he zeroes in on her. There, three seats to the left of Commander Vela. He’d know that voice anywhere. And when her eyes lock with his, the room stops, the rest of higher command doesn’t matter.

It’s you.

“Clearly he wants to come back,” you say, leaning forward out of the shadows. You observe him casually, almost bored. “We’re clearly in need, otherwise we wouldn’t be entertaining the idea. Just let him come back. Assign an in-field eval.”

Commander Vela hums, twirling the end of his mustache in his forefingers. From the corner, the Mon Calamari major grumbles his agreement. Some other members of the committee voice their displeasure with what you’ve said, but Yoongi watches as you simply turn your head to look at Vela, a small, seemingly innocuous smile on your lips. But Yoongi knows what it means. He’s seen it hundreds of times.

Gotcha.

The Commander clears his throat and nods in your direction. “An interesting compromise, major,” he says, and Yoongi doesn’t miss the hint of pride in the officer’s voice. “Very well. Captain Min will accompany you on your upcoming mission. With the two of you together, we should expect first-rate results.”

The world freezes. Yoongi’s heart stops. And then just as suddenly, it starts again, the thrumming going into overdrive. He is dismissed in slow-motion, and his body moves without his brain’s acknowledgement. Suddenly, he’s standing, and in a small handful of steps, he’s outside of the council room.

It’s much quieter out here. The hum of the electricity running through the walls, the howl of the freezing wind outside, the far-off cacophony of the rebellion’s finest doing what they can to stay prepared for a moment-notice fight. It all comes together, washes over Yoongi. It’s chaotic, but it’s also strangely comforting. The cold seeping through the walls, though still bitter and absolutely intolerable, cools his temperature and his temper easily.

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath through his nose. A mission. With you. Upon which his future hangs precariously on the condition of success. Truthfully, he’s not sure how to feel. He’s excited. He’s nervous. He’s hopeful. But somewhere within him, there’s something bubbling, something angry, something that he doesn’t want to confront right now. So he pushes it down and vows to himself. 

He will be back in the field. This mission will go well. 

It has to.

The mess hall is crowded and loud, and Yoongi hates crowded and loud. But he manages to find a table in a corner, blocked by a wall, that isn’t quite so noisy. It’s been months, but people still avoid him. And he gets it. People don’t know how to talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he’s ever been the easiest guy in the world to converse with. He’s always found small talk difficult, always preferred to listen rather than speak. All of the friends he’s ever made have been more a reflection of their stubbornness rather than a result of his ability and desire to be outgoing. So despite the fact that the mess is practically full, Yoongi’s table in the corner remains single occupancy. 

That is, until you appear in front of him.

You stand there, holding a tray in one hand and a cup of caf in the other, your datapad tucked between your elbow and your body. “Mind if I sit?” you ask. It’s soft. He can barely hear it over the din of the room. 

For a moment, he stares at you, expression flat. You offer him a small smile. It’s a lifeline, he realizes, a peace offering. But something roils inside of him, something angry, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the slight air of apology he can see in your eyes. You have a look that says you’d like nothing more than to talk. Something in Yoongi wants that, too. But a larger part is six years deep into thinking his best friend is dead. And that part is pissed.

“I thought we could go over mission details,” you tell him, awkwardly shuffling so he can better see your datapad. As if keeping things strictly business might help bridge the gap. “I don’t know how you’re used to doing things–if you’d come find me or if-”

“I haven’t been able to find you for six years. I stopped trying a long time ago.” It comes out venomous, almost like an accusation.

He watches as your smile falters, can see in your eyes the exact moment it transitions from genuine to practiced. You cough, and nod once, very quickly.

“Okay. Just meet me in the hangar tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred.”

Yoongi watches in silence as you turn on your heel. He follows you with his eyes, watching as you power-walk to the mess exit, dumping your tray and your caf in a trashcan on the way out. The angry part of him quiets, and suddenly, he’s no longer hungry.

The klaxon is shrill in the once-calm cockpit. Outside the windshield, TIE fighters shriek past, their guns targeting the small transport ship. In the belly of the vessel, Yoongi can hear banging and shouting. For a moment, he considers going to help Feeney and Jieun prepare the escape pods. But then Kitt swears from the cockpit, and another alarm sounds, and Yoongi is rooted to the spot.

He watches the displays, unable to look away as the shields deplete steadily. Those Imperial fucks can’t hit the broad side of a star destroyer, and yet today, of all days, they’ve managed to nearly deplete the ship’s shields.

“This is Tatooine one-two-five-niner-oh-five requesting immediate ceasefire,” Kitt says into the ship’s comms. Yoongi can hear the desperation in her voice. “Please. We’re just a haulcraft.”

The comms crackles, but no reply comes. Kitt swears again. Kitt never swears unless things are really bad. The displays start to beep urgently, and Yoongi’s eyes are drawn to a flashing indicator on the wall to his left. Ten percent shields left.

Things are really bad.

“I can man one of the guns,” Yoongi offers, following Kitt out of the cockpit and down the ladder into the belly of the craft. He skips the last few rungs, jumping off when he’s still a foot from the ground. “Buy us some time.”

“No.” Kitt pats his shoulder and offers him a small smile. The scar on her upper lip pulls taught, and her smile looks almost broken in half. In her eyes, there’s a small fire. She’s determined to see this through. 

The look scares Yoongi.

“You go. Get in a pod.” She pushes Yoongi in the direction of one of the escape pods that Jieun and Feeney have readied. Kitt turns to Feeney and presses a small metal rectangle into his chest. “Take this,” she tells him. “Get out of here. We’ll be right behind you.”

For a moment, Feeney looks like he wants to protest. But then he shuts his mouth and nods. The ship can only launch two pods at a time. “Come on,” he says, clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. “You heard her.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what happens next. He can’t remember getting into the escape pod, doesn’t know how he managed to hit the ready to launch button on the internal console. He’s really not even sure if he turned on the encoded tracker. 

All he remembers is the pounding of his heart in his ears and the feeling of weightlessness as the pod decouples from the ship and the zero gravity of space takes hold. He remembers his pod floating away from the main ship, remembers watching in horror as a third pod attempts to deploy and the grappling arm sticking without letting go. He remembers seeing movement in the cockpit of the haulcraft, a blinding light, his pod rocking through space with the force of an explosion.

Yoongi jolts, and for a moment, he’s disoriented. Everything is spinning. He can still see the debris field, but slowly, it morphs into his quarters in the base on Hoth. It’s the chill that brings him back. The cold air on his exposed skin forces his mind back to now. He’s not even laying down–his back is against the metal wall, he’d fallen asleep with one leg tucked up against his chest. His pillow is at the other end of the cot entirely. 

Yoongi sighs, his heart still hammering in his chest. His head falls backwards against the cool of the metal, and he forces himself to breathe deeply.

That was months ago, he tells himself. Pull yourself together, idiot.

It feels like an eternity later, but eventually, his heartbeat slows, his breathing evens out, the adrenaline leaves his system. He’s exhausted–this is the fourth time this week the dream has plagued his sleep–but he doesn’t dare lie down. Instead, he gropes around his cot until his hand brushes against the screen of his datapad. He turns it on, and the cool blue of the letters on screen strain his eyes.

My friends, my friends forgive me That I live and you are gone There's a grief that can't be spoken There's a pain goes on and on

He’d been working on a poem when he’d fallen asleep. It was a habit he’d picked up from Kitt. Poetry and music, she’d told him once, were things the Empire could never take from you. They have their roots in your soul and bloom in your mind. As long as there are people, there will be poetry and music.

It’s only half true, Yoongi thinks bitterly, picking up his stylus and tapping into the document to edit it. He has poetry, but he’s lost the people he cared about most.

“If we do not leave in 20 minutes, our chances of success go down to-”

“Please stop talking,” you tell the droid, TK-53. You’re sitting on a crate just outside of your ship, waiting for Yoongi. 

Tee’s right, though. Yoongi’s over half an hour late, and if you’re not gone in 20 minutes, you won’t make it to Bespin in time. There’s a small window that you have to hit, just a short span of time where the Tibanna refineries’ contracts are up before they restart. You have to be there in that window, otherwise, you may as well give up. Major Kim would be stuck on the planet for another year.

Though, you suppose even if Yoongi turned up in the next ten seconds, you aren’t sure how successful the mission will be.

“Tee, check the med bay. Perhaps he fell ill.” 

The droid hums, and you can hear the whirring of her joints as she moves over to a panel in the wall. But before Tee can even access the panel, there’s a cough behind you. When you turn, Yoongi is standing there, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. It’s a small comfort that he looks like shit. His hair is a mess, and he looks exhausted. But when he wordlessly pushes his bag into Tee’s arms, you can feel yourself get angry.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, grabbing the bag from your droid.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes and motion for him to walk up the ramp into the ship. You shove his bag back to him as he passes you. Tee clanks in after him–a solid foot and a half taller, she has to duck to make it in the ship without bumping her head. 

As soon as you’re inside, the ramp starts to ascend into the hull of the ship. It’s small inside. The cockpit is the biggest part of the ship, but there’s a small cabin with hideaway beds and a galley. For a moment, it’s quiet. 

“Do you usually not care about your missions, or should I consider myself lucky?”

“What?” Yoongi’s brow furrows. He’s made himself comfortable in one of the jump seats in the cockpit.

“Can you at least pretend to give a shit about this mission?” You plop into the co-pilot’s chair. Tee has already started going through the pre-flight procedures. “I mean, honestly Yoongi. Did you act like this for your last commander? Because I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t talk about her.” His voice is deep, angry, and for the briefest of moments, you can see the hurt in his eyes. “Get pissed at me all you want, but keep her name out of your fucking mouth.”

Quickly, you pivot. “We had things to do this morning, Yoongi. Preparations. We needed to get papers made. Now we don’t have those. I didn’t tell you a specific time because I thought it would be fun.”

You barely register Tee speaking into the comms, asking for clearance to launch.

“I said I’m sorry, okay? You think I wanted to be late?”

“I don’t know!” You admit, exasperated. You turn in your seat and press the last few buttons in the launch sequence, and the ship rumbles to life under you. A slight jolt, and it’s up in the air. “I don’t know what you want anymore,” you mumble.

Behind you, Yoongi grumbles something, but you don’t pay attention to it. Your focus is on the console in front of you and getting the ship into hyperspace. It takes a few minutes of tense silence for you to get out of Hoth’s atmosphere and into the hyperspace lane. But as soon as the ship leans into the speed and the stars are speeding past the cockpit windows in a cluster of bright lines, you let yourself change focus.

You turn in your seat only to see that the jump seat is empty–Yoongi is gone. You can see him in the cabin, leaning against one of the bunks. Taking a deep breath, you let it out in a heavy sigh. 

It’s hard seeing him like this. The Yoongi you remember was quiet, but kind and gentle. So gentle that you’d had to stand up to bullies for him when you were children. There was a time when you’d tell each other everything. There had been plenty of nights when you’d sat on the roof of your building side by side, staring at the stars and dreaming of something better.

But a lot has happened in six years. You don’t blame him for the animosity, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Once again, you sigh. But then you force yourself to stand and step into the cabin. It’s quiet for a while. Yoongi doesn’t look at you as you make your way over to the galley and slide into one of the benches. Eventually, you get sick of the silence, sick of only hearing the hum of the hyperdrive all around you.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you say quietly. “Why don’t we get the mission talk out of the way, hm? Start with that.” Then, maybe, you can get him calmer, less hostile.

He’s quiet, and you risk a glance over at him. His eyes are on the metal flooring as he chews on the inside of his cheek–a habit he’s had since he was a kid. But after a second, he pushes himself off the wall and stiffly moves to the seat across from you. Good. Progress. Progress is good.

You push your datapad across the small table so he can see the information. “We’re going to Bespin,” you explain. “To the Tibanna refineries in Cloud City. Major Kim Namjoon has been undercover there for almost a year.”

It doesn’t take long to describe the scope of the mission. Get in, get out, simple extraction. No combat anticipated, mostly just the two of you talking your way into getting Major Kim off-planet. On paper, it’s easy. In practice, you’re sure it’ll be more difficult. But there’s no way to know how things are going to go until you’re in the moment.

It doesn’t take long to explain. Yoongi has a few questions, and you’re happy to answer him. They’re simple, informative, and you get the sense that he’s testing the waters a bit. It’s a little tense, but it’s the most comfortable conversation you’ve had with him so far. 

When you’re done, he continues to look at your datapad, dark eyes scanning the mission log. He doesn’t look up when he speaks. “Where’d you go?”

You frown. You should have expected it, but the question still catches you off-guard. You know what he’s asking, know what he’s looking for, but fuck, you wish you didn’t. 

“Here and there for a few weeks,” you finally answer, playing with your fingers. “And then finally here, to the rebellion.”

He nods, and for a moment, you think he’s satisfied. But then, “Why’d you leave?”

“You know why.”

“Humor me.”

You sigh. You could walk away right now, not answer him and go back to the cockpit. You could hide behind duty and professionalism and rank. But something about you hates that idea. Yoongi was your best friend from ages six through 22. He deserves more than to be iced out. But god, did you really want to get into that blackhole now?

Finally, you settle on, “I was smothering on Fest. I had to get out.”

“You didn’t tell me.” He looks up, then, and even though his deep brown eyes don’t meet yours, you can see the hurt in them. Six years of it. And it crushes you. “You were my best friend. And you didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

“I did the best I could.” Your voice comes out shakier than you intend it to.

Yoongi stands. “You know,” he turns and makes his way over to the bunk he’s claimed, tossing his rucksack onto the floor, “there was a time I’d believe that.” He climbs into the bunk and rolls so that his back is facing you.

And with that, any hope of rekindling your friendship dies in your heart. Of course, it bothers you. So, despite everything in your soul screaming at you not to, you push.

“Why are you being such an asshole?”

“What?” His head turns so he can see you over his shoulder.

“You heard me. You’ve been nothing but an impossible, immature, impetuous asshole since you walked into your hearing. I-”

“Ever think that maybe it’s you?”

It’s a punch to the gut you weren’t expecting. You can feel the wind leave your sails. “What?”

“You’re the problem. I just want to get this mission done and get back in the field. That’s it. Just leave me alone, you don’t need to be annoying.”

You nod, despite the fact that you know he can’t see you. It’s the mess hall on Hoth all over again. Yoongi has always known how to disarm you. You used to think it was a good skill. As teenagers, you’d been able to calm each other’s tempers, keep each other grounded. But now, you aren’t sure that it’s such a good thing.

Your heart is heavy when you slip back into the co-pilot’s seat.

“We should arrive in Bespin airspace on schedule,” Tee reports, turning to you. “I’m detecting an abnormal heart rate, and your breathing is shallow. Should I begin protocol 04-”

“I’m fine, Tee.”

previous | masterlist | next

okay, so like.... how do we feel about the first chapter? I'm so curious to know your thoughts! my ask box is open--feel free to shoot me a message and let me know how we're feeling.

Yoongi's poetry this part is from "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from the musical Les Miserables.

[tyitri]

Entangled Heart - Chapter 1

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley/Reader

Summary: The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted.

The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were.

They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports.

It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

You're part of that fucked ecosystem now together with a few survivors who made an oath to save humanity or at least whats left of it. One of them in particular doesn't seem to like you, everyone calls him Ghost. And you're pretty sure it's not because of the report when you were found nude, nestled between a bush of Goldleaf Fern itself by some Scientists.

Tags: Post Apocalyptic,Slowburn, No use of Y/N, Nicknames, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Mild Gore, Violence.

Wordcount: 2,6k

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

"What do you mean, you're in charge of the medbay for today?"

The chair you were just sitting on tilted backward as you suddenly got up. Your palms slammed onto the typical school desk that had been brought over from the neighboring facility. Old, wobbly, and already smelling musty from years of use. The table had seen better days, probably even before the apocalypse.

"Come on, Milow! Max! You two can't leave me alone with this group!"

You looked at the two of them with concern and disapointment. You were almost sure that Milow would accompany you, if you would ask Desperately.

"Your little sister needs help, so please don't let me hanging, maybe you coulds ask if one of the medics can switch-"

before you could even finish speaking, Max raised his hand to stop you.

"No chance, Ghost explicitly said I should keep an eye on the newcomers. Who knows what they might have brought in."

He took a sip from his steaming cup and looked at the locked door across the room. It had a sign with a radioactive symbol on it, at least you think that that's what is displayed on it. It had seen better days for sure.

"Milow, what about you?"

You looked pleadingly at the gaunt guy, silently sitting in the corner of the old sofa. He was currently solving a crossword puzzle in an old soggy newspaper, but Milow just shook his head and gestured towards Max. He wanted to stay with him

"Alright, I see. Fine, just great."

You narrowed your eyes into slits before a sigh escaped your throat and you repositioned your chair, sitting down in frustration.

The world had gone to hell a few years ago. No one cared about preserving other beings, endangered species. The crown of creation was quickly deemed a threat, and the hunters became the hunted. The world changed, we were no longer at the top of the food chain. The plants were. They passive-aggressively spread, allowing a new plant species, called the 'Verdantia aurea' or Goldleaf Fern, to thrive. No one knew it was an invasive species. Other regional plants died, throwing the world out of balance. Many still remember the initial reports. It felt like the Seven Plagues of the End Times, written as if in the Bible.

There were reports of wandering locusts searching for habitable areas. Fish died due to lack of food. The sun's radiation increased, making daily wandering through the city torture. Then the animals went berserk, attacking their owners as if they were all rabid beasts, and ultimately, people started behaving differently. Once at the top of the food chain, now they fought for survival. But against what? What was the cause of all this? If one glanced out during the day at the streets of Berlin, one could see golden reflections, a shimmer that might lure a greedy fool.

Too late the humandkind realized that it was a mere plant, the Goldleaf Fern that changed people, animals, and the whole ecosystem. No one knew what it really wanted, if it could even think, but in many eyes, it had a goal: to eradicate all life to create something new. There were some who thought differently.

"I won't forget that."

You murmured as a warning. Your feet swung onto the table. Coughing could be heard from the next room, a side effect when exposed to the spores of the Goldleaf Fern. Just recently, the 141 team had rescued a group of survivors from an old collapsed farmhouse.

They talked about being locked up, how the strange plant had blocked their way, as if it came from a completely different genus, the genus of Dinonaer, the Venus flytraps. But you had no idea about that, you couldn't remember anything, at least the two years you apperantly were out there and survived on your own. Milow and Max were in charge of medicine and gardening of useful vegetables. Secretly you were nervous that the tomatoes they harvested last week might turn into concious venusflytraps too. They, along with 6 others, observed the quarantined survivors.

If one of them was infected, surely they all were. Max talked a lot about the events in the quarantine areas when he had the chance to. People died left and right. It usually started with shortness of breath, then with ravenous hunger, and ultimately with plant-like growths and complete brain death.

Despite the morbid disease, Max could never stop making jokes. He teased you about believing as a child that if you swallowed the seeds of a watermelon, a tree would grow inside you. Now that horror had become a reality.

As you looked back at Max and Milow, they strangely raised their gaze as if looking behind you, observing something that made them uncomfortable.

"Morning, Lieutenant."

Came from Max, who then returned to his book. As you leaned your head back to look up at the lieutenant, you were first met with his cold gaze.

"Rookie, we expect you downstairs in five."

Lieutenant Ghost. That's how everyone else here knew him, nobody except for his closest friends knew his real name. Since your arrival, he hadn't been very hospitable or inclusive. You couldn't even answer before he was gone. He was very taciturn and seemed to enjoy making your life a living hell.

He was also in charge of assigning tasks, and more than once, he had given you tasks that were the worst. Cleaning the restrooms, getting rid of any biodegratable trash, so that no plants can access it or the guarding dayshifts. After those dayshifts everyone kept their distance. Understandable noone wants to sit or stand next to a sweaty and sleep deprived piece of shit. The few times he did speak to you, he only asked about your file, which wasnt ready when you departed in the USA, or if you had done your blood test yet. You could deliver neither, and honestly, it probably never would be, not with what the other doctors and scientists at the US base had discovered.

Even in front of Max, you kept the past at bay. After he flew to Germany for his medical studies, everything went downhill. Frank died, and you were left alone in a shitty suburb in the USA. A few old friends of Frank's, from his biker gang, occasionally stopped by, after all, they had known you since you were a child and you had worked in the diner next to their Gas-Station.

You would argue that it had been tough years, had you not retreated into the world of video games and occasionally attempted hacking for some money, albeit unsuccessfully. In hindsight, it would have been much easier to strip in the local pub, had you had enough courage.

You still remember the day when the spores took over their hosts. It was January, doctors suspected a simple flu wave. No one could have guessed that the affected people would become more aggressive, whole stores would be looted, and countless people would die. But once again, it was blamed on something else. Theorists blamed it on some radiation, others thought it was the video games.

No one could have guessed so quickly that it was an unknown plant species posing as a normal shield fern. Biologists only became aware of the plant when it was too late.

"So then Max, Milow, have fun nursing the sick."

You gave them a brief, not entirely serious, contemptuous look.

"Have fun searching for the sick."

Max repeated, grinning.

"Go on, your buddy is probably waiting for you."

He added smugly. Chuckling, you shake your head and leave the break room. The right corridor was guarded by a few other rookies, ensuring that no one left quarantine or entered without permission. So your path was the left one.

With heavy steps, you shuffle along the corridor, your gaze fixed on the wall. The wallpaper was partially torn, probably out of fear of mold or something similar. Sooner or later, everyone would succumb to the Goldfern anyway. A little mold should be the least of the worries. You disliked the smell of the building as much as its appearance. Musty and uninhabitable, but you'll have to manage. With a certain bounce in your step, you took the stairs to the ground floor and headed to the hotel reception, to Jade.

"Evening, Jade."

You lean half on the counter and grin at her warmly. Jade was one of the few female survivors here. Just like you, there were occasional issues with feminine hygiene products.

Since you weren't able to stock them up yourself yet, she was kind enough to share with you, as long as you shared your findings with her.

"Evening, Fern."

She smiled casually at you while checking a vest, as well as a revolver and a rifle.

"Ghost already informed me. Your first outing with the team, huh?"

Her long golden hair fell over her shoulder, down towards the rifle.

"That's right. He seems to talk a lot about me, if thats the case"

You show her a broad grin and accept the equipment she had just inspected and now passed over the counter.

"Might not be a good thing, Take care of yourself, okay?"

Her gentle maternal smile had disappeared, and she now looked at you warningly.

"You know me."

You respond amusedly and casually grab a packet of ammunition. The packet, you can barely grasp properly with your delicate hands; you can still remember when König teased you for it during training in the USA.

"I mean it, Fern. Ghost and his team have often returned without rookies."

You pause and then look at her. "You're just trying to scare me," you reply cautiously, laughing to lighten the mood. She, on the other hand, just shakes her head.

"The last one was shot because he went alone into a building and apparently had official contact with the Goldfern."

She emphasized the 'apparently'.

"Then it was probably his mistake," you say cautiously. Jade rolled her eyes and sighed strenuously.

"Fern, listen to me, even if Ghost and Price have command here, you shouldn't necessarily trust them or turn your back on them. With a snap, you're gone. If you're not worth it, you're gone."

She hissed and roughly placed a knife on the counter, which you promptly stuck into your boot.

Ghost seemed like someone who would shoot you in the head without a second thought if you didn't follow an order. Price, on the other hand, seemed different to you. Neutral. As if he cared about everyone. "Jade, hey. I'll be careful, okay?"

You shoulder the rifle and knock twice on the wooden counter, which wobbled a bit. Already musty.

"Until later."

You give her one of your familiar grins and then quickly head for the exit. Speaking of not following orders. you were late.

"Two minutes late, Rookie."

Atleast his watch was working. Ghost admonished you, looking at you disdainfully. You could be wrong, after all, he almost always looked like that.

"We won't let it happen again, Sir."

You assure, hoping that would be the end of it. He nodded to Price, who then pointed in a direction.

"We're patrolling within a one and a half kilometer radius."

He explained and marched with Ghost leading the way. Just the thought of it made your feet hurt. How much you'd give to sit in the break room with Max and Milo right now, browsing through an old comic or doodling in a magazine. You walked in the middle and kept an eye on your surroundings. You were just starting to register who was there. You could spot another rookie trailing behind Price and Ghost, playing the lapdog.

You knew Soap as well; he was close with Ghost and Price, also pretty team-oriented and accommodating. There weren't any more, probably not necessary anyway.

The world had changed, and honestly, you thought it looked more beautiful than before. Everything was overgrown. The Goldfern seemed to have an influence on the local flora as well. It spread faster and grew better.

Even during dusk, you could see the newly discovered property of the plants luminescing. Probably a mutation or a simple selection of plants that were no longer able to survive and had to find other ways to prevent going extinct.

Surprisingly, the life-threatening environment calmed you, as if it were something familiar, something rooted deep down in your heart.

Suddenly, you ran into the backpack of the person in front of you, and you stumbled back a few steps.

"Watch it."

he hissed, looking at you hostilely. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Soap, amused by your mishap. Price and Ghost had stopped. A figure sat on the road worn down by roots and vines. She was wrapped in fabrics and seemed to be twitching, as if crying.

"Why are we stopping?"

you ask and take a few steps towards the person. Soap held you back by the arm and shook his head.

"Nuh-uh, we don't do that."

Your brows furrow, and you look at him confused.

"Someone needs help, and we have beds available."

But before you could protest, the rookie sprinted ahead of the group and raised his assault rifle. "Damn it, hands up!" He shouted and aimed directly at the figure on the ground. A bit too intense for your likings. The figure stood up but made no noise, no sound.

"Are you deaf, hands up!"

Now Ghost and Price also drew their weapons, aiming at the figure wrapped in rags. You remained rooted to the spot. Soap followed. It's movement were too soft for it to be human.

As you examined the figure, something caught your attention. It seemed not to touch the ground; it seemed to be floating?

There was an unpleasant crack, and the figure seemed to lift its head; it was pale, bony. Its eyes milky. It didn't move on its own; it was as if it was being moved.

"Get back, that thing doesnt seem safe!"

You screamed and tried to reach for the guy. Everything happened so fast; a root shot out from the lifeless body of the figure and surged towards the rookie. The tangle pierced his stomach, and the root, which had formed barbs within seconds, clutched onto his back. A blood-curdling scream pierced through the seemingly pointless hail of bullets which had started only mere milliseconds ago, and he was dragged across the ground slowly, as if the thing was teasing and humiliating us.

The rookie desperately clawed at every uneven surface, hoping to fight against the monstrosity.

His horrified gaze fell upon us, who could only shoot and watch as he was pulled towards a small hole in the wall of the ruin, pleading bitterly.

"Make it stop, get me out of here!"

Shooting at the vine was futile; you'd either hit him or just the ground beside the root. It was a waste of bullets. You watched in horror as the rookie, who had just been alive moments ago, fought against his inevitable death.

"There must be something we can do, damn it!"

Just as you were about to go after him, a final shot rang out from Ghost's direction, abruptly cutting off the screams and pleas.

"Let's go, it's had it's fill,"

the shooter replied disgustedly, throwing you a brief warning glance, as if to say, don't make the same mistake as that idiot.

Just as you were about to turn your head towards the group, you heard a crack and a sound akin to the preparation of meatballs.

He had disappeared into the hole. All that remained were some shreds of fabric and the blood trail leading to his ultimate end. You could only stare into the darkness of the hole for a moment until Soap nudged you in the side and pulled you out of your stupor.

"Come on, we're not waiting long."

With those words, you absentmindedly continued with the others to continue the patrol.

[nartml]

"Itachi was a good brother"

"He did nothing wrong"

Sigh

CW: Entirely unorganized, I had thoughts to express and no order in which to do so.

What are some of y'all on? Respectfully, what are some of you guys talking about? Why is this even a debate? Some hardcore Itachi stans need to get their eyesight checked 😭

There are ways to acknowledge a character's tragedy, their impossible situation, the excruciating circumstances they're under, without justifying genocide and inhumane torture.

Itachi was a tool. Thoroughly manipulated by everyone, and exposed to horrifyingly gruesome sights at a young age. He was a tool, which did Konoha's bidding, followed instructions to a T. And yes, the stuff that he's done will forever haunt him. He possibly hasn't known a moment of true peace or happiness in his life. All very tragic.

That said, he still. Well, sucks. And fucked up badly. You can feel sympathy for him –you probably should– and I do too. But the fact that he didn't regret it makes me side eye him.

His clan was planning a revolution, because they were all alienated, discriminated against, victims of unbelievable prejudice and racism based on a bunch of nonsensical bullshit (fuck Konoha btw)

So naturally, when the government mysteriously found out, he was ordered to slaughter all his people –including pregnant women and little kids– mercilessly. And naturally, he did as they asked.

But he couldn't kill his little brother, because apparently "Konoha's orders were not more important than your life, Sasuke, doesn't he love you so much".

So instead of killing him, he makes him relive the massacre of his family a cool 500k times, then sets him up for a lifetime of hatred, pain, anger, bitterness, survivor's guilt and loneliness.

Manipulates Sasuke's worldview, makes him believe that in order to achieve his goal of killing him (something that Itachi set him up for as well btw), he needs to be entirely isolated without any sort of connection to other people. Shows up 5 years later, traumatizes Sasuke some more, tells him he needs to kill his best friend. Yk, all the stuff a good older brother does.

Then some years later Sasuke manages to kill him, just as Itachi wanted, and Itachi ofc pokes him on the forehead, even in death keeping his distance from Sasuke without ever clarifying what it means.

Isn't he just the loveliest?

He's a tragic character with an abundance of issues, who absolutely fucked Sasuke's life entirely, and no matter how much you kick your feet and scream, he's not a good older brother.

"But he loved Sasuke so much"

I'm sure he did; at least in a twisted sort of way. But holy shit, this might blow your mind to smithereens, just because you love someone doesn't mean you love them right, that you're good for them, or did good to them.

Itachi loved Sasuke, but he sure as fucking shit did not love him right, was not good for him, nor did good to him.

"But Itachi was so guilty, it's not like he was having fun when doing all this, he'll forever be traumatized by what he did"

This shouldn't even be up for debate. Feelings, intentions and actions are not of equal importance. The impact of an action you took is more important than your intentions and/or your feelings regarding that action. One is tangible and affects others, the other is internalized and all you.

Itachi's situation was complicated, and there was no realistic outcome where everyone is happy. He was cornered, more or less.

So he held his head down and did as he was told.

Regardless of how he felt about it before, during and afterwards, despite his intentions and reasoning for what he did to both his clan and Sasuke, despite the guilt he feels, it doesn't change the cold, hard reality of the negative impact he had on his little brother and his family's name. Sure, intentions/feelings/reasoning plays a role in feeling sympathy for him, but you gotta hold him fucking accountable for the atrocities he committed.

You could say that he did it for peace, because the revolution would've been bloody, that Konoha had to do what it did to avoid countless deaths, or whatever bullshit arguments y'all want to make. It's inconceivable to me how you can't even hear the wrong in those statements.

Konoha did not do it for peace, there was NOTHING peaceful about any of it, no justification for it. If you think genocide is the only solution to a rebellion that hasn't even been executed yet, then I guess y'all's mindsets are way too fucked up and you should look into it. Konoha most certainly used this coup as an excuse to rid itself of the thorn that were the Uchihas. Because you know what ended up happening?

Konoha, the very government who orchestrated this, ended up then writing Itachi off as living proof of "the curse of hatred", as someone who went insane because of the clan's innate ugliness, that damned, forsaken curse that no wretched member of that family can shake off. Entirely shoved this disgusting, fucked up situation under the mat.

In the end, when it's time to write the history books, Itachi and the Uchiha clan will be registered as vile creatures who were full of hatred and that's how they'll be remembered. No justice was served for them, and that is heartbreaking.

___________________________________________

TL;DR

Moral of the story: Konoha sucks, Itachi was not a good brother and did a lot of things wrong, and the Uchiha clan is a forever misunderstood tragedy.

Bonus: fuck Tobirama "curse of nonexistent wiener" Senju

___________________________________________

To clarify something:

I am not one of those haters who sit on their moral high horse, point fingers and go "They're such a horrible person, I would never do such a thing. Look at me, the angelic good person, I can't even fathom how someone could do this". Shut up, you're annoying, and what you're saying makes no sense, because you quite frankly can't know what you'd do if you were in that character's shoes, and moreover, it doesn't even matter because it's, guess what, not about you. Quit judging how much of a "scumbag" a character is based on your morality without showing any sort of empathy or understanding of a situation.

You can't relate in the slightest (which is good in this case, I wish nobody ever relates to Itachi's situation), therefore your judgement and morals are irrelevant

Specifically talking about Itachi, I don't can't know if I would've done what he did, because I'm 120% disconnected from the circumstances and laws of his reality. If I were in his shoes and in his universe, I would be an entirely different person with different ideals. Same goes for you.

All this being said, I personally feel iffy about Itachi. I have sympathy for him, but I still think he has objectively fucked up very, very badly.

Plus, I am a Sasuke defender to my core and from a purely pro-sasuke standpoint, he annoys me.

I think I rambled a bit off topic at some point, this is a mess

[aceviscontiswife]

hi!! If you're taking requests I was wondering if you could write about Ghostface x (preferably male) killer!reader who is basically a yandere for him and Ghostface finds out because a survivor was crying to the others because reader tortured them for "stealing their man" aka just getting "too close". It would be nice if there was smut but even just ghosties reaction would be fine :)

You're Mine || Danny Johnson

I really enjoyed this! I've never written anything yandere (or male x male) so I apologize for any mistakes I might've made. I hope you enjoy, I had so much fun writing this! P.S., k/n = killer name

Amab! reader. Warnings: killer!reader, sub!Danny, dom!reader, face-fucking,fucking against a tree, spit as lube, fingering, yandere reader, reader is VERY possessive, marking, names such as pet, baby, sweetheart, etc.

"It was...terrifying..." Came quietly from a very distressed Renato, who was trying his best to focus on repairing the generator whilst he spoke. Even while crouched behind the corner of killer shack, eavesdropping on the survivors, Danny could tell Renato was crying. It took all of his strength to stay quiet, to not burst out laughing at the scene before him.

"Why didn't he just kill you? The k/n's never had a problem with killing me..." Danny's brow raises at the mention of your name. You were ruthless, efficient, and scaringly handsome. Danny had no shame in admitting that he liked you, that the mere thought of you had his body heating up. Danny could kill the survivors later, for now, Danny was stuck listening to Renato retell his encounter with you.

"He said I- I was too close to Danny..? I don't know any survivors named Danny..." Renato's voice was shaky, almost inaudible, but Danny had heard him loud and clear. Beneath his mask, Danny was grinning wildly. It was as if his deepest, darkest desires were coming to life right before his eyes. It only got better when Meg, who had been listening to Renato the entire time, stopped repairing the generator and looked at Renato with a look of sheer terror.

"Renato... Danny is Ghostface... k/n was talking about Ghostface." Danny bites his lip to hold back a groan as a wave of arousal spreads through his body. He would definitely be confronting you about this later.

Renato and Meg seemingly abandon the generator, now staring at each other, frozen in fear. "He... I- The things he did to me... All because I.. It doesn't make any sense..." Renato could barely form words, fidgeting with his hands as a tear rolls down his cheek. Meg stood in silence, but the look on her face told Danny everything he needed to know. He was satisfied with what he had learned about you, and steps out from behind his hiding spot, chuckling.

"It doesn't have to make sense." Danny mocks, reveling in the sheer terror that Renato felt as Danny began walking towards him with his bloodied knife pointed towards the survivor. Once he killed this team, he'd be sure to pay you a visit.

----

"Why are you doing this to me?!" Cries out Kate, blood gushing out of a nasty looking gash on her forehead. It was quite the sight to see, especially since Kate had it coming to her. "You know why." You had caught wind that Kate had been seen trying to suck up to Danny, and it set you off. Danny was yours, not hers. Who does Kate think she is, messing with your man? You'd make sure she learned, though. Just like you taught Renato.

"I-I just wanted hatch!" You scoff, rolling your eyes as you look down at Kate, a twisted smirk on your face. "You should've been better, then." Kate's eyes go wide as you bring your knife up again, and she begins to all but beg for her mercy. "Please- Don't hurt me! I-I just wanted to escape!" You ignore her, taking a step closer to her. Your knife was stained with Kate's blood, but that wasn't enough for you. A psychotic... disgusting...whore like Kate deserved to suffer, and you were going to make sure she did.

Kate's screams fill the room as you get to work. You would say the sounds of her choking on her own blood was music to your ears, but nothing could beat the husky voice that belonged to Danny. Speaking of, you were going to find him just as soon as you were done settling this, and make sure once and for all that no one messed with your love ever. again.

---

Danny's quiet, near silent footsteps echo throughout the woods, his cloak rustling in the wind as he made his way to your shack. Little did he know, you were headed straight for him, still covered in Kate's blood with your knife now discarded. You could hardly think, your mind overflowing with rage and possessiveness.

When you came into Danny's view, he could immediately sense something was up. You'd never looked like...this. A part of him thought you looked hot as fuck, and the other part was scared of you. You were absolutely drenched in blood, stopping mere inches from Danny. You look down at Danny, and right as he begins to speak, you shoot into action. You rip off his mask and smash your lips against his in a possessive, steamy kiss.

Danny moans into the kiss, and that only sets you off even more. A wave of pride courses through you. You were causing Danny to make such sweet sounds... you. No one else. Danny's hands bury themselves in your hair, tugging lightly. Only separating from Danny's lips to take a breath, you push him back against a tree, your hands trailing down his arms and grabbing his wrists.

“Fuck… Happy to see me?” Danny chuckles, separating from the kiss to catch his breath. You don’t respond, pressing him against the tree even harder. Danny groans softly, his cock twitching as he begins to get hard. “What- What brought this on…?” His voice was strained, his eyes half-lidded as he spoke.

“Survivors don’t know their fucking place. You’re mine. No one else owns you—Fuck… only me. I’m gonna make sure everyone knows that.” Danny can’t help but moan at your words, now fully erect as his dick strained uncomfortably against his pants. He leans his head back against the tree, his eyes closing. “Please…” Danny’s voice was soft; this was a side of him you had never seen before, and it only made you want to keep going. Like Danny, you were near desperate to free your member from the confines of your clothes. You wanted to fuck him senseless right here, against the tree, where you could easily be caught if someone were to walk through here.

“Please what? Use your words, Danny…” You let go of his wrists, taking a step back and crossing your arms. The knowing grin on your face was driving Danny wild and you knew it.

“Please… fuck- Please just fuck me already.” Your brow raises, you were surprised by Danny’s bluntness. You chuckle quietly, shaking your head. “Was that a demand?” Your voice was low, and you take a small step towards Danny, looking down at him. You could see his obvious bulge, and you were certain he could see yours as well. “You listen to me, sweetheart, not the other way around.”

Danny nods, shocked by his own submissiveness. His gaze travels from your face to your chest, and finally to the growing bulge in your pants. You weren’t going to be small, that much was obvious. “S-Sorry…” You can’t help but laugh as Danny apologizes, a feeling of pride rushing through you. He was completely at your command. Danny fucking Johnson was submitting to you.

“That’s alright, Danny… but I’m still gonna have to teach you who’s in charge.” You pause for a moment, bringing a hand up to Danny’s face and cupping his jaw. Your other hand began to undo your belt as you spoke again. “I want you to suck my fucking dick, got it? Be a good little pet and get on your knees, now.”

Your words sent a shiver down Danny’s spine, and he followed your command almost instantly. He drops to his knees, his eyes going wide as you remove your pants, kicking them aside. Your member strained against your boxers, and it wasn’t long until your boxers joined your pants. Danny stared at your now exposed cock, glancing up at you with wide eyes.

“Take as much as you can. I wanna see you choke on my dick.” Danny nods, wrapping a shaky hand around the base of your cock. You groan softly as Danny presses a kiss to your tip, licking off the precum dripping down your dick. “Stop teasing.” You command, bringing a hand down and grabbing a fistful of Danny’s hair.

Danny takes your tip into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he begins to bob his head slowly. “What did I-“ You shove Danny’s head down harshly, forcing him to take a majority of your length. “Fucking. Tell. You?” Your hips jerk, a groan escaping your lips as you feel Danny gag and choke on your cock. His nails are digging into your thighs, his eyes screwing shut as tears welled in them.

You were relentless, your loud moans and grunts filling the dark forest as you fucked Danny’s face. “God— yes… Your mouth feels so good, baby.” Danny moans at your words, tears rolling down his cheeks as the tip of your dick hit the back of your throat with each of your thrusts. He’d never been with anyone like you before… he was loving this new experience more than he wanted to admit. Danny bobs his head faster, taking you as deep as he possibly could.

“Fuck- you just want me to cum in your mouth, don’t you? You wanna feel my hot cum in your mouth, hmm?” Danny’s eyes snap open, and he meets your gaze with a pleading look in his eyes. You knew exactly what he wanted… which is why you pulled out of his mouth, chuckling as Danny coughed and panted for breath. He whines, his brows furrowing as the lustful hue in his eyes switches to one of confusion.

“Oh, baby… I’m gonna cum in your ass first. I gotta let everyone know who you belong to, don’t I?” You hold out your hand, offering to help Danny stand up. He takes your hand, and as soon as he’s standing, you turn him around and press him against the tree. “Fuck—!” Danny curses, but you shush him by placing your finger against his lips. “Quiet. Save that pretty voice for when you’re screaming my name.” Danny looks back at you, moaning softly as you begin to undo his pants.

“Look at you… moaning so sweetly and I haven’t even touched you yet.” You rest your head on Danny’s shoulder, undoing his pants and letting them pool around his ankles. “Do you want me to touch you, babe? Do you want me to fuck you?” You ask, pressing your lips against Danny’s neck. “Yes… god yes, Y/n…” You chuckle at his answer, your fingertips trailing over his clothed erection. Danny squirms under your touch, bracing himself against the tree with his hands. “Please…”

You slip a hand under his boxers, gathering some precum off of the tip of his cock. Danny hisses, moaning quietly. You slip your hand out of his boxers, bringing your fingers to your mouth and sucking the precum off of them. Your free hand pulls down Danny’s boxers, wrapping around his dick as soon as it was free from his boxers. Danny moans loudly, his head falling back against your shoulder.

"You sound so pretty... all of this, just for me."

"Please, Y/n... I need you.." Danny's voice was quiet, but the lust and yearning behind it was evident. He looked so desperate, his hips jerking up into your hand... You couldn't keep him waiting any longer, could you? You pull away from Danny, spitting on your middle and index fingers and pressing them against his hole. "You ready?" Danny nods in response, gasping as your fingers slide into him. "Fuck-- Y/n-!" You gave Danny a moment to adjust to the feeling of your fingers before you began to move them, stretching him out so he could take you easier.

"God- I need you, Y/n! I can take you, just- Please!" You laugh at Danny's words, but you can't ignore the shiver they send down your spine, or the way your dick twitches as a delicious moan escapes his lips. You pull your fingers out of him, pressing the tip of your member against his hole.

"Beg for it." Your command was simple, as well as the breaking point for Danny. "Please, Y/n! I need you to fuck me- I wanna be yours-! Fuck, I need to be- AHH~!" You cut Danny off as you suddenly slide into him, groaning as Danny yells out, his back arching as you set a fast pace, giving him little time to adjust. The forest was filled with the sounds of Danny's moans and skin slapping skin, and you were sure someone had to be onto what you were doing by now.

"If- hah, if someone catches us... I'm gonna break their fucking legs so they can't run and force them to watch me cum in your tight little ass. You- You'd like that, hmm?" Danny nods frantically, unable to form words. You bring a hand to wrap around Danny's member, jerking him off as you thrust into him.

"Gonna mark you up- your pretty neck is gonna be covered with my marks." You pant out, trailing kisses down Danny's neck until you reach his sweet spot, suddenly biting down onto his flesh. Danny moans, his nails digging into the tree so deeply that they were bleeding. The sight was enough to elicit a groan from you as you began to leave marks on Danny's neck, all the way to his collarbone.

"Fuck- Just like that, Y/n-!" Danny already felt so close. He was overwhelmed by all of the pleasure, his eyes screwed shut as he took you. You could tell Danny was close, and if you were being honest, you were too. "Gonna make you mine- Mine." You push deeper, Danny moaning out as your tip hits his prostate. It was getting harder and harder to hold off his orgasm, you could tell simply from the way his cock twitched in your hand that he needed to cum.

"Oh my god- Y/n- I'm gonna cum! Please- don't stop!" You chuckle, keeping up your brutal pace. "Cum with me, Danny." You jerk Danny's cock harder, pushing him to his peak. Danny finishes with a scream of your name, his cum spurting out and onto the tree. You follow behind shortly after Danny, your teeth sinking into his shoulder as your hot cum fills him. "Fuck, Danny... So good." You pant, slowly pumping your cock into him a few more times before pulling out.

You watch as your cum drips out of his ass, a satisfied grin on your face as you gather some on your finger and push it back into Danny, causing him to yelp and squirm against your touch.

"You're mine, Danny. All mine."

[edelweissbarnes]

• Sunshine and a little bit of hurricane •

Bucky Barnes x supersoldierF!reader Edelweiss (OFC)

A therapy session can change the perception of oneself? (Angst, mention of torture, mention of su!cide, bad self talk and bad self image, fluff)

Dr Reynor’ studio is neat and tidy, the giant picture of a forest, on the wall behind the sofa you’re sitting on, is placed to soothe the frustration of being closed between four walls. You watch the rain fall incessantly outside on the not so busy streets of Brooklyn Heights, the gentle pit pat against the glass is relaxing but the brisk click of your therapist’s pen brings you back to reality. You look at her and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t talk, I write, remember?” She murmurs looking at you.

You exhale and you lower your gaze to your hands.

“since we talked about the tub, my nightmares got worse.” Your tone is more harsher than you wanted to, but it’s difficult to hide your frustration to not be able to sleep peacefully with your boyfriend. It’s a strange thing but you feel like you have a rock in your chest, a weight that makes it difficult for you to breathe, let alone sleep.

“Do you want to talk about what happens in your nightmares?” She asks, her tone is calm and even motherly.

“I’d prefer not to but I’m sure you’d be pushing it by telling me something like ‘talking about it makes it easier to move on’… easier my ass…” you reply bitterly before getting up from the sofa and nearing the window. “ there’s only one thing that I know for sure: I don’t want to feel ever again the way I felt back there…” You whisper looking outside.

“If you’re not ready to talk about your nightmares I’ll wait…it’s ok, Y/N.” Dr Reynor replies gingerly, like she’s talking to some scared animal.

“None of this is fucking ok…” you bite back. “ being here is not ok, what happened to me is not ok, what I became is not ok. They broke me and I’ll never be fixed” you can’t help the bitterness in your tone.

“What makes you think that you need to be fixed?” She asks quietly, you can feel her eyes on you.

You chuckle and you turn to look at her “ can’t you see?” You gesture to yourself with a scoff.

She smiles at you “ you’re not the darkness you endured. You are the light that refused to surrender. You’re a survivor Y/N, but you don’t need to be fixed. you need to understand the person you are now and you need to remember that you’re not alone. You have James…and now even the Avenger’s crew” her words hit you hard, even if it’s difficult for you to really believe them.

You turn again to look outside “ after the tub, they couldn’t wipe me because doing both would had been too much for my already fried brain. That’s when I had some glimpse of my memories…fragments…I remember lying on the bed into my cell and even if I was exhausted I couldn’t sleep or even breathe sometimes…. Everything in that cell remembered me of James… every bloody time they left us alone, every kiss, every scar or bruise that we left on each other…we were so emotion starved that sometimes even pain was ok…just because it made us feel something…and the fact that he was gone without me was overwhelming” you murmur quietly closing you eyes, your memories so vivid.

“back there I thought several times about what it would be like if I killed myself...if he would miss me...would he cry?…but then the thought that he was gone and he left me there got me like’ why should he care?’ Why should I care?” You pause “ you know that he wants to propose? Did he tell you? I found the ring hidden in our closet…” you chuckle bitterly. “If he thinks that he was fucked up, when he was the winter soldier, he must reconsider because I got worse…really worse…In that cell I shutted down, I went completely numb…and every time they got me out for some mission it was always a bloodbath ….the more gruesome, the better…they wanted a killer machine? I obliged them…sometimes even enjoyed the killing…” you confess, your tone heavier then before, shame and disgust easily recognizable. “How can he desire to marry a damaged good like me?” You whisper just before the timer rings gently reminding you that your time is up.

“Don’t mind showing me the exit…I know the way…” you murmur pushing both your hands in your leather jacket’s pocket before moving toward the open door, as you are her last patient of the day and the two of you are the only ones left in the building.

She stands from her seat “You’re not damaged good, Y/N. What you did back there was a survival behavior. None here can judge you for that…. We’ll talk about that next time” she murmurs calm without trying to stop you.

Once outside the building you turn up your face to look at the cloudy sky, it’s raining heavier than when you get here. The chime of your phone claims your attention and when you take it out of your pocket you notice a message from Natasha.

“ mission alert. Meet me at the tower. Hill’s office in 30.”

“Copy. I’m on my way” you reply before getting your hood up and stepping into the rain. You make just a couple of steps before your vision goes black and you collapse on the sidewalk.

When you open your eyes, the white light on the ceiling is blinding you and you let out an annoyed whimper before you squint and turn your head to the side trying to evade that annoyance. Your head is pounding and you feel disoriented.

“She’s awake” you hear a feminine voice whisper gently.

“Thanks God…love, I’m here…” The voice of your boyfriend is low, you can feel the relief in his tone and finally you open your eyes to look at him.

“Where…where am I? What happened?…” you pause for a moment “ my head hurts so bad…” you murmur quietly trying to sit in the bed.

“We’re at the tower, at the medical bay…you went to you therapy session with dr Reynor…you had to meet with Tasha a couple hours ago…when you didn’t show up she alerted me and then dr Reynor called, telling me she found you collapsed on the sidewalk outside her studio…you scared the shit out me, doll” he explains while his hand caress lightly your face. You sigh loudly before slumping against the pillows. You feel an itch on your arm and when you look down you see that you have an IV attached. Before you can articulate any of your concerns you hear the door of your room open and Bruce made his entrance.

“Well, well…look who’s awake!” He murmurs too cheerfully for you taste. You let out a frustrated groan.

“ you scared us a little but don’t worry..it’s seems you just got a mild concussion and you’re a bit dehydrated…nothing too concerning for your condition…” Bruce replies with an encouraging smile.

“My condition? What do you mean?” You murmurs, looking at him with concern, you know for sure that you boyfriend got the same expression looking at the scientist.

“I…I thought you already knew…” Bruce stutters, trying to arginate the situation.

“What are you talking about Bruce? Am I dying?” You retort with a hint of panic in your voice.

He starts to laugh loudly and you give him a murderous look.

“No no…for heaven sake no! You’re going to be a mum” he murmurs giving you a reassuring smile.

“Wait, what?” Bucky asks with wide eyes. You try to rise from the bed but you feel your head spinning and nausea coming up leaving a disgusting taste on your tongue so you slump again on the pillows.

“Bad time for a joke Bruce…” you reply bitterly while you search for some water. The scientist is looking you movement and promptly gives you a glass with some ice cubes and water.

“ recently have you experienced some brain fog, nausea, maybe throwing up sometimes? Sensibility to smells? The sudden urge to eat ice or to take a nap in the middle of the day?” He asks politely.

“Yeah, my health hasn’t been great lately and so? My bloody nightmares are keeping me awake most of the nights…it natural that I want to nap during the day!” You reply quietly.

“When you had your last period, Y/N?” He asks you.

You look at him with wide eyes and for a moment you’re speechless. You don’t know when your last period was. You turn your head to search for your clothes, you know that your phone has the answer you need.

“My phone…I need my phone…” you whisper and you see Bucky promptly searching your jacket to give you your phone. With trembling hands you search the app where you track your menstrual cycle and to your surprise,when you open it, you see that your period is 4weeks late.

You gasp quietly and you lift your gaze from the phone to your boyfriend.

“Ok, I get it, you need to talk… I’ll leave you to it…” Bruce murmurs before exiting the room leaving the two of you alone.

The silence between you two is heavy. You look at him, his jaw clenched and his gaze low, as it’s too much to bear. He feels responsible to put this weight on your shoulders, who would want to carry the former winter soldier’s child?

“ I… I can’t be a mother…” you whisper, your eyes full of tears, the words you spoke with dr Reynor are haunting you: why would he want YOU to be the mother of his child? You and your fucked up brain.

He sighs quietly.

“ I know it’s a difficult situation and I know that’s my fault…I should‘ve been more careful…” he murmurs, guilt in his voice “ I shouldn’t burden you with this situation…I know that you love me and I’m grateful for that every single day and I’ll be for the rest of my life but I know it’s too much to carry my child.. who would want a father like the winter soldier?” He concludes with a whisper lowering his head.

“No, no…” you whisper cupping his face to look at him in the eyes, you can feel his pain and it kills you every time he felt so insecure due to the past he endured, he never had a choice. “ no James, you’d be a wonderful father…attentive, generous, protective, a perfect father…it’s me…I’m the one fucked up…I can’t be a mother…after all they did to me, I’m too damaged…I can’t be a good mother…and this child don’t deserve a mother like me…” you started to quietly pouring down all your doubts, all the fears that are haunting you, your sense of unworthiness, the “truth” that you think you had the choice to become what you become.

“Don’t you ever, EVER, speak like that again!” The way he’s grasping you by the arms, shaking you slightly to gave his words more power leave you speechless.

“You’re not too damaged, you’re the bravest, kindest being I’ve ever known in my entire life, despite what happened to you, you managed to explore your own darkness and save your heart. You stayed pure even if you walked through a fucking hell.” His choice of words is kicking you in the gut.

“I’m not as pure as you think!” You shout with desperation.

“ you are! Do you think I don’t know what if feels like to numb yourself and become what they wanted you to be? It’s easier than being wiped out every single time! You did what you had to do to survive and you can’t forgive me and do not forgive yourself for living and experiencing the exact same damn thing!” He shouts back.

Your sobs start silently before taking every fiber of your being and you fully start to cry, he hugs you tightly and you realize that the weight you felt on your chest is disappearing.

“You’re not too damaged. You’re not what they made you become.you’re strong as vibranium, love.and yes, you’re pure… You’re not even a ray of sun, you’re the fucking sunshine….and a little bit of hurricane…”he whispers in your ear while gently caressing your hair until your sobs subside.

He sits on the bed and he gently maneuvers you to sit in his lap so he can look at you in the face.

“Love, I know it’s a difficult situation and I’ll accept and I’ll love you no matter what you choose to do. It’s your body and it’s your choice. Do you want to make a family together?” He murmurs quietly.

“I’ve always wanted a family of my own…” you whisper “ I want a family with you…but I’m scared…” you confess. He hugs you.

“ that’s ok…if you want this…if you’ll have me…we’re in this together…” he murmur kissing the crown of your head.

“ you know that Dr Reynor will freak out when she’ll know that we’re having a baby?” You joke and the laugh that vibrates in his chest makes you giggle while now you feel the weariness of the whole day upon you.

" I think I'll take a nap..." you whisper softly before snuggling against your boyfriend.

“I’ve got you mama…” he whispers holding you tight against his chest and lulling you gently into sleep.

[brandnewhuman]

Upon seeing the new ghost zombie skin I've drawn some angsty conclusions AND YOU ALL WILL HEAR ME OUT.

Ngl broskies, this one hurts me too FR FR. From the trailer it almost looks as if he's still sentient (I could be wrong but compared to the other zombies in the trailer he still acts very much like his human self) which makes sense with Simon's survival pattern in life. He's always the one that remains, the one that outlives everyone else, the man who neither himself or others can get rid of.

It's so tragic to think that beneath all the stuff the body undergoes when you get zombified, he's still there and he can see and feel everything but can't do anything to stop it. I think what hurts him the most is not just the fact that he's losing himself but that, like I said, yet again he's forced to outlive everyone.

Now, I don't know much about the codmw lore (AND BEFORE YOU COME HERE AND START FLEXING YOUR KNOWLEDGE, JUST KNOW IM NOT GONNA CHOOSE PEACE) but for what I know soap, in the original timeline, died and roach and a bunch of Simon's teammates too. With that in mind, I imagine that if he's a zombie and, taking a few creative liberties here, this zombie timeline could be placed a little bit before mw3 where everyone fucking expires then babyboy here is really going through it.

He's a monster now, and not in the "I feel like a monster because I think of myself that badly" no. He's quite literally a fucking rotting corpse walking and running around at full speed, body slamming the shit out of everyone. He has lost his friends, he has possibly had to watch that happen and once again, just like with his family, he couldn't do anything to prevent it and somehow ends up being the only survivor.

There's no amount of therapy that could ever fix that fucking shit bro, like he's doomed to real life plot armour where it doesn't work in his favour but instead just takes away everything and everyone he cares about. And now, even if he manages to gaslight himself into thinking he could make it work for once, that he could fr be happy with the next person that enters his life, he still wouldn't be able to be with them cause now he's a fucking zombie.

My brain likes to torture me with the thought that him retaining his self awareness and stuff wasn't on purpose and surely wasn't his choice, that the way the infection works on him is different. He feels so tired of dragging around his body and the mental tool it takes on him makes everything so hard. I could actually see him just deciding to cave in to the need of just...letting go, like to stop holding onto whatever is making him sentient and just kind of die inside his mind (?) Idk if it makes sense but since he can't physically die he would be content with just kind of switching himself off.

That's it. That's my painful brain fart for you to enjoy and suffer with. Unfortunately I can't pay for anyone's therapy, you are free to end my existence instead.

[midnightscxre]

@feral-fuqboi-danny​

It was a secret that was held like breath underwater. It rose up to her throat, which squeezed it , gurgled it back into her chest, where it, like a carbon dioxide, wrestled with her lungs and demanded to get out. But it didn’t. It couldn’t  Not after what she did. What she was doing for a long time.

Clare’s days in solitude were over. The tent she destroyed to make a hammock between the long, tall branches of the two pine trees was cut down, and dragged to the clear sight among the other survivors. It didn’t happened over night, or did, she was not certain. It was like feeding a wounded animal, with patience and dedication, the other survivors were hell bent on luring her back into the in the meager dimensions of security, near to the bon fire. The day that changed what seemed to be an eternity was when the temperamental loner that was mostly despised saved every single survivor just when it was time for them to be consumed by the entity.

She had an exit. And everyone thought she will take it. 

But the redhead did the opposite, humiliating the killer in the process. And no other, than Myers, the one counting sins mercilessly in silence. After all, the man stole the gravestone in pure malice, to continue his wicked path of revenge. However, that night he ended up with a foot in the head, knife hammered to his hand, and to top it off, ruined mask with a fire cracker no less. What she did, took great bravery and even more insanity, but the example she showed, to go after the killers, bloomed fast, and soon enough, she became a leader, everyone spearheaded by the fearless redhead. It gave them hope. It gave their spirit something more than the desire to run, to be more than rabbits running in front of their certain demise. The slight change in the survivor’s behavior didn’t end there. To be frank, there were secrets, hidden affairs, favorites. . . the place was worst than Big brother, just here the lucky ones won their life not ravaged for Entity’s entertainment.  But from all the shenanigans, drama and private affairs, there was something that was almost a taboo subject, something no one dared to do. And that was to openly and loudly, mock the killers. Even around the spitting embers. Mocking the killers meant more suffering, brutal kills, a unholy torture. . . but quickly it became a routine, fun way to spend the night. Again, starting with Clare. 

The woman went after all the killers, maybe the Huntress a bit less due to the history told in whispers, but there was one she had her claws in the most. Shroud always hiding every inch of his body, shadows covering his every move and embracing him as one of their own, silence was his weapon, stealth his death sentence he forced upon everyone. . . with more joy than others, with such enjoyment that he even took photos to admire or mock later, who knows, Clare swore he even jerked on them. Sick fuck. So, she did what no one else has done before. Went to the killer’s realm in order to do mischief. In order mess with them. With him. 

It was not easy, not in the slightest. Risk was higher than with others, this one could be anywhere and no one would hear him coming. But after months of effort, she got a window of ten minutes she needed. It seemed the man was a fan of the Legion, and while he was enjoying himself with his ‘ friends ‘, scarlet haired woman entered his living area. . . and made sure he knew it. Stolen goods, ruined photos with a red marker stating ‘ DICKface ‘, Eat it, Fuck you, You are no ones favorite scary movie, just a comedy’ .. . . the messages were endless, along with the photos of her middle finger on every empty film roll he owned. However. . . there was something she didn’t expect. A photo. Hidden  photo. Clare stared in shock and. . .well, fascination. The only killer hell bent over never to uncover his face, the only one no one has seen. . . had his mask off. Taking a photo with the legion. Pine-green eyes stared at the undeniably handsome face. Two dark pearls of the eyes luring her in with something dangerous, challenging. . . promising. That staring nearly got her caught, hearing the movement in the last second, and fleeing the ‘ crime scene ‘ with the picture by mistake. 

It started. . . strange. Gazing at the photo in private, under the ‘ new ‘ tent the survivors helped her to built. Frowning at the picture, throwing it around, nearly tearing it, since it had some unexplained charm to it, something that pulled her in like a magnet. Something that brought a bunch of realizations she managed to burry until that cursed moment when she saw his face. The way he operated and staled -- flawless, a skill to admire in eve. The way he played with the pray --- fascinating to observe, specially to her and her endless interest in such people. The way he thrived and bathed in every sick kill and slash he made, the way the hoarse voice sounded, the way the deep, smoky laugh echoed through the fog. . . it made a lethal combination in her mind, and before she knew it, the one she wanted ruin the most, became the favorite killer, and she didn’t look forward to his arrival only to ruin his day. . . oh no, it was much, much more.

It began with comments, whistles, waves . . giving away her position for no reason, stalking him, like they were playing a game. Much less pallets on his head, much more small things that don’t hurt as much thrown at him. Much more. . . ‘ playful ‘ winks and jokes. Of course, none of it sounded nice, playful or anything that would be mistaken for something that is ‘ not ‘ . . . but it was. . . very different. So different people started to notice, the survivors, some of them. 

Clare was low on ground, fingers resting on the muddy surface. The hook hovering over her head. She looked around, hearing the busy hands working on a generator. She was supposed to stay and guard the area, to alert. . . but what she wanted, was to distract. Ivory color of the mask flashed quickly behind the thick tree trunk, almost seeming as a literal ghost. . . but she knew it was him. A a secretive and scheming grin on her face. Her heart accelerated with some form of happiness, like the teenager seeing their crush in the hallways. It was so foolish it slipped her mind, and just like that, she got to her feet. “ Photos you take are so. . . boring.  All the same poses, all the same places, same bleeding shit. . and so much potential is wasted. “ Long, elegant  arms reached for the hook, bringing the whole body up with ease. “ Always thought this grim things were much more exciting than a stripper pole. “ Hourglass shaped moved quickly, sensually, as she flipped her head and allowed herself upside down then back, spreading the alluring inked legs before wrapping them around the hook again. “ Was that one of your kinks, hm? Chasing down strippers and prostitutes for an easy kill. It’s a good start. No one looks for them, they don’t scream when you touch them, you can take your time with both pleasures, if you are catching my drift. “ Remaining to swing like she isn’t confronted by a killer that is known to go feral on the sight on her, dedicated to tear her apart, she continued. “ What was your choice? Brunette? Blonde?. . . Redheads? “ Cheeky green on the plump lips, teasing the man. . . or. . . . . fishing for some information about his taste.

[dreamersbcll]

“Toxic”

—————————

Tara had built quite a reputation at Blackmore University.

After all, she was a survivor in the recent Woodsboro massacre and sported some kickass scars. She was also a pretty girl with nothing to lose.

And that got her in trouble, a lot.

It wasn’t her fault that she enjoyed partying. That drinking and smoking made her feel alive. And it certainly wasn’t her fault that the boys flocked to her in droves.

She was a pretty girl with nothing to lose. Or at least that’s what they thought.

Every boy who flirted with her, touched her, craved her, was nothing to her. It didn’t matter how many drinks they gave her, or how many times they told her she was pretty. She didn’t care. They were nothing but noise to her.

This most recent party was a Halloween event. What was she supposed to do, not go? She may be just a freshman, but she knew that everybody went to these parties. It was a night of mischief and violence. Right up her alley.

She came home later that night with a red mark on her cheek and smelling like rum. She tried to sneak into the apartment but failed miserably as she tripped and fell over her roommate’s shoes.

“Fuck,” she hissed, rubbing her shin. She was too drunk to deal with random obstacles in her way.

Plus she would wake up Sam. And she didn’t want that.

But it was too late. The kitchen light flickered on and there she was. Her big sister, sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed.

“Oh. Hi Sam. What’s up?” Tara said, trying to sound nonchalant. The room was spinning around her. How much rum did she have? She didn’t know. She giggled to herself, stumbling to the bathroom.

Sam was having none of it. She reached over and caught Tara by the chin, yanking her back. Tara nearly keeled backward, but her sister caught her, standing her upright.

Her sister examined Tara’s face- the sweaty makeup, the lopsided grin, and her eyes narrowed at the red mark on Tara’s face. A slap mark.

“What happened?” she growled, her eyes darkening.

Tara looked down, wincing at the grip Sam had on her chin. “Uh, I got slapped. But it was probably because I stole a bottle of rum from this guy named Carter. It’s my fault for being drunk and stupid, don’t worry Sam,” she nervously said, smiling despite the dark look in her sister’s eyes.

That didn’t work.

Sam let go of her, standing up and making her way to the door. Tara stumbled after her and caught Sam around the wrist.

“No, Sam, it's okay. Really. It’s just a mark. I’ll be fine,” she stuttered, trying to pull Sam back with all her might.

Her sister whipped around, grabbing Tara by the shoulders. “He hit you, Tara. That’s not okay. Nobody should be touching you. You’re mine. Nobody else’s. I’m going to go show him that, okay?”

Tara sighed, rubbing her face in exasperation. “I am yours. I know that. Do you know that?”

Her sister nodded once, eyes focused on something else. She was drifting. Tara needed her focused on the task at hand. Sam had to be clear minded and ready. Otherwise this would never work.

“Can I watch this time? You never let me watch. I’ll be quiet, I promise,” Tara begged softly, pouting a bit.

Sam paused for a minute, weighing her options. Finally, she let go of Tara, reaching into the broom closet for the second costume. She tossed it to Tara, her costume in hand.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just make sure you tie your hair up so we don’t leave evidence, okay?”

Tara nodded gleefully, her eyes darkening with pleasure. “Can I make the call this time? You did it all the last three times. You lack creativity, you know that?” she complained, a drunken smile creeping through her face.

Groaning, Sam tossed her the voice modulator. “I don’t lack creativity, jackass. I aim to torture, not just kill. Now get dressed and let go. I want to dump this body in a different place so the police don’t catch on.”

“What about that last guy? Duncan? The one who pulled my hair? You just scalped him and left him there. That was boring. I would’ve done it differently,”.

Sam rolled her eyes. “The last time I let you take control was with that Peter dude. You cried when you got blood on your face. Never again, dummy. Now let's go!”

“Yeah Yeah. Let’s go,” Tara parroted, slipping the mask on.

The two sisters exited into the night, their weapons in hand.

Halloween was always so fun.