#and what really happened to him and the nightmare he had experienced

[its-your-mind]

I’m sorry I need to talk about this for a second

This part right here. When Nirvana tries to use Thought Infection on Kim Dokja. And this ability that absolutely neutralized Yoo Joonghyuk, Min Jiwon, and Yoo Sangah…

just…

bounces right off.

and it’s set up like this big badass moment. Kim Dokja saves the day again. Kim Dokja can face down anyone. He’s more powerful than every other incarnation and constellation, no matter how much foreknowledge they have.

But honestly?

It kinda just makes me sad.

yjh is incapacitated by the Eternal Nightmare ability because of all the awful things he’s seen and experienced, yes.

But as we know from 1863, happy memories can be much more debilitating for him than sad ones. And while he’s only got 1-2’s memories right know, we know that 2 had some incredibly happy memories to pass on, memories that make the losses that much harder to take.

And Min Jiwon?

Of course she doesn’t actually want to visit a spa while her friends and troops are dying. But can you blame her for having some deep craving for comfort and relaxation right now?

But for Kim Dokja…

The Fourth Wall isn’t just protecting kdj from the negative effects of the skill. It’s not hiding his secret desires, or absorbing his emotions.

It is literally preventing him from experiencing the world around him as reality. Not just because it feels improbable or surreal, but because it is literally keeping him separate from the world around him. On a fundamental level, he does not believe he is truly present in this time and space.

This is derealization and dissociation on an unbelievably intense scale.

“If we’re just characters, why did you die for us so many times?”

Why wouldn’t he? He’s not here, not really. He’s just Reading this story, no matter how much sway he’s been having over what has happened. All of that is just his work as a Reader hoping to see the Epilogue of his favorite novel.

“It was a really great story, isn’t that right?”

Narratively satisfying. A twist ending. A fate that subverted expectations.

An Epilogue worth Reading. Not touching, not feeling, not joining, not creating. Just watching. From a distance away. From behind glass. Through the cracks in a wall.

After all, a story can’t exist without a writer, a protagonist, and a reader. Only two of them truly participate in creating the story. But when you’re the Reader, it’s always worth reading the story again. And again. And again. And again. And again ,

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 6

(A/N) There we go. I'm so sorry about not posting last week. A lot came up and I didn't find the time to write anything. Also, I really enjoy writing human!Alastor, more so than I thought, so there's gonna be more of that.

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: murder...yep, sexism, nightmare, flashback

Synopsis: Will he finally remember you?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

“Alastor?”

When did he fall asleep? As his eyes widened, he spun around and came face to face with Charlie. She looked concerned, one of her hands raised as if she was about to touch him, but hesitated.

“Ah, princess. What can I do for you?”

The demon got to his feet and swiped his clawed hands over his coat as if to smooth out any wrinkles. Now that he was standing, Charlie had to look up at him, a motion that had always given Alastor a feeling of power, but right now, all he could think about was you.

“I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in on the two of you and offer to give you a break. You’ve been in this room for days now.”

It’s true. He has been here for days. Watching you sleep and heal. Watching you slowly get better. And if he’s honest, it’s the only reason he hasn’t marched up to Valentino and beat him to pulp. So no, he didn’t want the princess to take over. He wouldn’t be able to take accountability for what happens if he leaves the room without you.

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather stay here.”

Her face fell, concern washing over it again. She opened her mouth, about to object, but a quiet whimper stopped her.

Alastor whipped around as soon as he heard the sound leave your lips and rushed to your bedside. You were thrashing around, your face distorted in fear. You were having a nightmare. Charlie joined Alastor at your side, but he quickly shooed her away, reasoning that the more people you saw once you woke up, the more you’d panic. She hesitated, but after a few seconds nodded and left the room.

The radio demon turned all his attention to you now, still battling with the blanket on top of you. He gently grabbed your shoulders and pushed you against the mattress, trying to keep you from hurting him or yourself.

“It’s okay dear, I’m here.”

He continued to hold you down while whispering nonsense, trying to break past the panic of what you were experiencing at that moment and reach you. And it worked. You suddenly went limp, another whimper leaving your lips, but this time it was his name…but…not really his name.

“Ali…”

He blinked once…twice…three, no four times, his eyes glazing over as memories came rushing back to him. New Orleans…the radio station…and suddenly he felt the humid heat against his skin, the sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose and he pushed them back up again.

Earth - late 1910s

He stood before his workplace, the radio company where he took over the late airings. With his usual smile, he entered the well-air-conditioned building and made his way up to the offices, on a mission to find his favorite coworker.

He quickly spotted her, shoulders slumped as she read over a page. His cheerful smile lost most of its cheer, no longer reaching his eyes as he gazed upon her back. She deserved so much more than working for thankless, egotistical men who couldn’t appreciate her genius.

With quick steps, he closed the distance between himself and her and placed his hands over her eyes, his grin returning to it’s usual brightness.

“Guess who?”

The chuckle that escaped her lips made his heart beat faster, a soft blush covering his cheeks. It was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard and at the same he wished to keep that sound to himself, he wanted to broadcast it to the entire world.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

His shoulders shook as a bubbly laugh escaped his lips. He rarely laughs, but with her, it felt natural. He leaned down slightly until he could whisper into her ear.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

She shook her head and Alastor lowered his hands, as the woman spun around in her chair, smiling at him. And…it was you. He finally recognized you.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

Gently, he took a hold of your right hand, guiding it to his lips to press a quick kiss against your knuckles, while you rolled your eyes. You always did but he still insisted on the gesture. After all, it was one of the only places he could kiss. At least for now.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

As soon as you mentioned your boss, his eyes hardened and he glared at the office door that hid the fat man. If he could only kill him…maybe he would. In that moment he wondered how it felt to kill someone.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

Your eyes widened at his comment you raised your hands to cover his mouth. But he just chuckled and lowered them slowly.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

Alastor turned back to you with his signature smile. How adorble you were, always looking out for him.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

He watched a light blush cover your cheeks. You lowered your head to hide it, but he still noticed. Of course he did, he noticed everything about you. That coy smile you were wearing right now. Your favorite perfume that he could always smell on you. How you always seemed to sit up straighter when he was near. And the excitment in your eyes when you see him.

Alastor chuckled again, before carefully ruffling through your hair, making sure not to destroy your hairdo too much. You started to complain, but before the first word could even slip past your lips, he had stopped and instead started to fix the mess he had made. Then he turned back to you.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You reached for the pieces of paper on your desk and went through them, Alastor listening intently and taking notes in his head. He loved your ideas and often used them during his broadcast. Especially topics he knew you were passionate about.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

Alastor nodded. He’d definitely have to mention that, especially after you turned to look at him with that sparkle in your eyes. He smiled, he loved that side of you. Excited and passionate. Something he rarely found in the women around him, something that drew him even closer to you.

His thoughts were interrupted when his name was called across the office space. He looked up and saw his boss waving him over. His eyes flickered to you and he saw the disappointment in them. And he understood it all too well, himself being annoyed that he had to leave you.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

Knowing his boss didn’t like to be kept waiting, Alastor started to walk away while still facing you.

“I always do.”

Once again his heart fluttered at your words, a giant grin spreading across his lips before he turned and ran towards his boss who was already looking annoyed. As soon as Alastor was close enough, the other man started walking, keeping silent until they were out of the office.

“Well, is she your girl?”

Alastor looked at his boss, confusion plain on his face, but shook his head once the other man confirmed he was talking about you.

“Hm…in that case…maybe I’ll call her into my office then. You know, get to it. She’s a real cutie.”

Alastor would never admit it. He usually was more careful with his killings, but at the moment he saw red.

With a strained smile, he asked his boss if he’d like to go out for a smoke, his treat of course. Once the man agreed, Alastor led him out the back door, where no one ever was, and distracted him long enough for the radio host to grab a loose brick and whack him over the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out, but that wasn’t enough. If he could have, Alastor would have beaten the man to a pulp, but he couldn’t get any blood on his person, so he instead decided to use his belt to strangle him to death.

Once he was sure the man was dead, he got to his feet, breathing heavily while his lips slowly pulled into a wicked grin. Oh, how good that felt. He only wished he could’ve watched the panic in his eyes while he died.

Still, Alastor’s mind quickly returned to the task at hand. He had just killed someone in the alley behind where he worked. He’s not sure, but there was a possibility, that others saw them leaving together and then he’d be done for. His mind was racing as he thought of what to do. He had to stage the scene, that much was obvious, but how?

Burglary.

He quickly reached into his boss’s pants and pulled out his wallet, removing all the cash before dropping the empty wallet next to the body. Next, he removed the large, gold ring from the man’s little finger, as well as his pocket watch. The last touch was taking off the man’s belt and wrapping it around his neck in place of his own, just so that the police would think that it was used to murder him and not search for another one.

Once done, he stepped back, a proud smile on his lips as he pocketed the objects he had just taken. He could use those to remember this. His first kill. But surely not his last.

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts @mo-0-o @xalygatorx @fairyv-ice

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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

repeating my therapists words in my head like the bike message in pokemon

[shisurus]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

[saltburnedme]

Catch Me If You Can

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3533

Summary: Living at Saltburn you’d had repeated nightmares about getting lost in the labyrinth. What happens when your nightmare becomes true?

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, choking, stalking? Kind of?, being drunk/drugged, being chased/threatened with a weapon, dub con, generally fucked up smut overall, lots of mentions of blood, pray/predator vibes

You stumbled through the darkness down each twist and turn of the labyrinth, the blood rushing through your veins, that’s when you hear it. The crunch of gravel under a foot that wasn’t your own and in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

That’s how the nightmare always starts. You’d gotten lost in the labyrinth at Saltburn enough throughout your childhood to know never to go in there without telling someone where you were. You’d had the same repetitive nightmare for years; you’d go in and never come out. You didn’t know why this stuck with you as much as it did, but it did, nevertheless. Because of this you made it your mission to memorise every step, you knew exactly which way led to the middle, exit and every dead end, you’d walk the maze every day just to make sure that you’d never be caught out.

You’d walked it alone for years, that was until this summer. Felix had brought a friend back; you hadn’t thought much of him until he asked to walk the maze with you. It had taken a few adventures to warm up to him as he wasn’t exactly the most outgoing of men you’d ever experienced in your life, but he seemed well meaning and it was a nice change from constantly walking alone. You weren’t sure why, but for some reason he wanted to learn the labyrinth as much as you did.

You’d never accuse him of it, but it sometimes felt as if he was planning for something more. You had watched his confidence change over time as you spent your afternoons wandering with him. You told him about your nightmare in detail, he was kind and understanding, trying to reassure you that nothing like that could ever happen. Over the time in your presence, he’d gone from a quiet boy to a confident man, almost domineering you when alone but reverting into his old self as soon as you were around others. You had so many questions, you thought that he’d been holding back, and you wanted to see just how far he’d go if he really had you alone although you were certain you’d never say it or so you thought.

The summer sun beat down on the garden and the whole family had been drinking heavily consistently since noon. You’d been in and out of the lake all day, swimming for a while and then lying on the grass soaking up the sun. Members of the party came and went as they pleased until before you knew it, day turned to night. Throwing on a long white sun dress, you lay there until you were the last one left on the grass taking in the stars as you lay there giggling to yourself through a drunken haze. You’d been so taken by the events of the day that you hadn’t even realised until now that you’d missed your daily trip around the labyrinth. You knew it wasn’t a good idea, you hadn’t told anyone where you were going and although you weren’t the drunkest, you’d ever been in your life you certainly weren’t sober. This wasn’t enough to deter you though, you were determined.

Standing on shaky legs you made your way to the labyrinth with a little skip, although your nightmare was always at the forefront of your mind on any trip there right now you felt invincible. Your tipsy mind pushed any sense of danger to the background, right now all you felt was a fuzzy tingling throughout your body and an excitement for a late-night adventure. You made it to the entrance of the maze before you knew it, staring down the first path as you contemplated whether or not this was something you really should be doing. Within a split second you had decided, you were going in. You were certain, this was until something out of the corner of your vision caught your eye.

‘I wouldn’t go in there if I were you’ he says, leaning against the entrance of the maze. ‘Anything could happen in the dark’ he continues, his face lit only by the cigarette he had pressed to his lips, a wine bottle in his other hand.

‘Fuck, Oliver. What are you doing out here? I thought everyone had gone to bed?’ You asked, your heart racing in your chest. It was just Oliver; you knew you were safe with him you thought to yourself.

‘Couldn’t sleep, not knowing you were out here alone’ he says continuously smoking and seeming to be avoiding eye contact with you, staring at the ground in front of him. Something was different, you knew he was at least a little drunk too so maybe that was it, but something felt off.

‘So, you came looking for me?.. in the dark’ you reply, waiting for any kind of response but receiving none. You could feel the alcohol running through your veins, you knew that if you were sober this would have been enough to scare you and although you’d never admit it you were terrified and you thought you might even like it. ‘Well, if you don’t think I should go in there alone you could always come with me?’ You proposition, growing more giggly twirling your hair around your fingers. That drew his attention, still no eye contact but you could feel him watching you, watching the way your fingers moved together and how your dress fell against your curves as you shifted unable to stand still.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea sweetheart’ he says, taking the last few drags on his cigarette, flicking the butt off into the nearby grass. You feel a surge of confidence as you move closer to him, your body almost touching his as you lean in almost speaking in a whisper. Taking the bottle from his hand you take a large gulp, the red wine trickling down your chin staining the fabric of your white dress appearing almost like blood.

‘I think it’s a great idea’ you start, your face so close to his now that your eyelashes almost graze his cheek, pushing the bottle into his chest in a drunken attempt to give it back. You’d found him attractive for a while, he’d grown on you over the last few weeks, and you finally felt like it was happening, this was your chance. ‘I think you should come into the maze with me’ you giggle. ‘And who knows, maybe if you find me you can fuck me’ you say, that caught his attention. His blue eyes reflecting in the moonlight as his gaze meets yours, he almost looked angry.

This is not what he wanted, Oliver thought to himself, he didn’t want you, not like this anyway. He knew it was sick to think it, but he didn’t want you to give yourself to him, he wanted to take you for himself. As you flirted and giggled, he felt the heat rise in his chest, his heartbeat against his rib cage as his aggression soared. He thought of you as a pure little thing, he would have even said untouched if he hadn’t have heard stories from the others, but you seemed pure to him, nevertheless. He loved the thought of you helpless underneath him, for him to be both the villain and the saviour in your eyes. But hearing you speak like this ruined everything, you’d never spoken to him like this before, he didn’t want to hear you beg him to fuck you, he wanted you to beg him to stop. He’d come out here with a plan, he wanted to take you into the maze and rob you of any shred of virginity that you had left, but now with the way you were talking you were just a whore in his eyes. A slut that was unworthy of him. So, he stood there before you wordless, gazing down upon you in anger as his ocean blue eyes turned black, you stood looking up towards him as much as you could in your drunken state. You thought he seemed angry, but you were so drunk at this point that you wouldn’t have been able to tell either way, the alcohol from Oliver’s wine bottle hitting you way harder than you anticipated.

‘Maybe I can fuck you?’ He finally repeats back to you. ‘Maybe you’ll let me fuck you?’ He sneers as he stands straight, almost pushing you over as he moves closer, his chest pressed to yours. ‘Because that’s such a prize’ he continues, practically laughing in your face, if you thought he was flirting before you could now see, even as drunk as you were, that he was very much not happy. ‘Well then pretty thing, I think you should start running. Can’t catch you if you aren’t running now, can I?’ He says, so he does want you? You question to yourself. One moment he’s almost refusing you and the next he wants you? At this point you felt almost as much confusion as you felt fear. That was until he does it, he pushes you into the labyrinth making you stumble as he does, losing your balance ending up lying face down in the gravel as you turn back from your position on the floor to see him. With the moonlight shining from behind him he looked much taller and more menacing, the kind boy you knew was gone, replaced by only the silhouette of the body he once inhabited.

‘Go on then, run’ he almost growls out as your heart rate increases, you want to let out a scream, but nothing comes. Stumbling to your feet you immediately start running. Turning around to try and see if you could outrun him, you see him still standing at the entrance, then you hear it, the familiar sound of smashing glass. He’d broken the bottle against the statue that’s placed at each entrance of the maze, now only holding the broken neck of the bottle as he begins his pursuit towards you.

You run as fast as you can, rounding the corners of the maze in record speed. You knew the labyrinth well enough that you were certain you could get out before him, this is exactly why you’d been waking it all this time anyway. This was almost exactly like your nightmare you thought to yourself. When you first propositioned Oliver, this was not exactly what you’d imagined. You had pictured this going much differently, you’d giggle and run at an almost walking pace so not to make it too difficult to catch you. But this was wrong, he was wrong.

You didn’t know what exactly had changed within Oliver, but something was drastically off. The Oliver you knew would never have looked at you the way he did or spoken to you as he did. You were absolutely certain that your sweet predictable Oliver wouldn’t have smashed a bottle into a weapon and literally chased you down with it. While you may have practiced your escape from the maze many times, you now realise that you’d never practiced running it as you gasp for breath between each step of your quick moving feet.

Checking behind you Oliver is nowhere to be seen, your pace slowing as you think you may have lost him giving you some time to catch your breath. You stumble your way through the maze, you were sure you were about to get to the middle and make your way out but instead where the exit should be, a dead end. You were sure this couldn’t be right you weren’t lost, surely you couldn’t be. You begin to trace your steps back, finding the topiary equivalent of a crossroads. You see him but you're not sure he’s seen you, crossing in a slightly different direction heading towards the opposite side of the maze. Yet when you look another way, he appears to be walking towards you, and in another direction away from you. You swear you can almost feel him graze your shoulder as he passes you, his shoulder brushing past yours in different directions over and over again as you fall to the floor, crawling on your hands and knees as the hard gravel punctures the skin on your knees leaving behind a small trail of blood.

You knew there couldn’t be that many of him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rub your eyes. Finally, re opening them you find yourself alone, was any of that real? Was he even in the maze at all? You question yourself, your sanity in its entirety. You can still taste the red wine on your lips, you thought it tasted off at the time but now you were sure, you were drugged or at the very least incredibly drunk.

Stumbling to your feet you use the hedge to the side of you to re gain your balance. Just like in your nightmare you hear the sound of gravel crunch behind you, turning your head you catch the glimmer of light reflecting from the broken wine bottle just as he swings for your neck, screaming and running immediately as you hear his pace quicken behind you. You’d completely lost the grip on where you were in the maze, you could be at the exit for all you knew, but in this moment you just ran straight. The hedges seemed to lengthen as you ran, this singular corridor appearing never ending as you sprint. Almost as if you were in a dream you seemed to run on one spot like you were practically on a treadmill, going nowhere fast. You could hear him behind you, you were sure of it, you tried to look but the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision too much. Continuing to run forwards you feel as if you can see the light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel, you can see the statue in the centre of the labyrinth dead ahead of you, a feeling of relief flooding your senses as you head straight.

You’ve made it, you’re almost out you think to yourself. Just as you meet the edge of the hedge facing the centre he steps out, your form slamming into his unmoving body forcing you to stop running.

‘Found you’ he says with a smirk, smiling down menacingly at you as his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. You knew you were facing the statue but as he begins to back you into a corner you feel yourself walk backwards into something hard, your body slamming into solid stone. Pressed against the statue at the centre of the maze you look around confused. Where were you? Had you been in the middle this whole time? You were certain you were facing towards it but now the statue was pressed behind you. Regardless it was of little consequence, he had found you.

‘Do I get my prize now little dove?’ He asks you without really asking, not waiting for a reply he wraps his hand around your throat, the other hand still wrapped around the broken neck of the bottle as he uses it to slice the fabric straps of your dress free from your shoulders, your dress falling to the ground. His hand tightening on your throat he leans in to kiss you as you resist, biting him in response feeling blood trickle down both of your lips, the metallic taste swirling around your mouth.

‘You think fighting back will stop me?’ He questions, your resistance only seeming to fuel his desire for you as he grinds his length into your thigh. ‘You thought wrong, dove’ he continues.

Throwing the bottle neck to the floor you hear it smash against the gravel in the distance, that’s one obstacle out of the way you think as he spins you around, pressing your chest into the statue that now stood in front of you. With one hand still around your throat you hear the jingle of his belt unclasping. The swimwear you were wearing from earlier in the day still firmly held against your body for only a few more moments as you feel his strong hands rip the fabric in two, throwing it to the side as you feel his fingers glide through your folds.

‘Fuck little dove’ You were almost embarrassingly wet, you hadn’t realised it until now due to the fear, but maybe that’s exactly why you were as you were. His words coming out as almost a whisper only meant to be heard by himself. To Oliver it’s almost as if you weren’t real, your skin was so soft, your entrance was so wet and warm that he could have been convinced that this was another dream of his and he’d wake up with his hand fisting his cock for relief. But this was real, he could hear your breathing below him quicken as he pushes his fingers into you, curling them as your hands tighten on the marble in front of you.

You moan as he lets out obscenities behind you, sliding more fingers inside of your tight hole, his eyes transfixed on the way his digits glide in and out of you so easily. Eventually removing his fingers from you, his grip around your neck tightens as he pulls your back to become flush with his chest, his free hand coming to cup just below your chin.

‘Spit’ he demands, grabbing your face slightly as he waits for you to drool into his hand. You look towards his hand as you spit into his open palm, a mixture of clear liquid and blood coming out of your mouth as he quickly covers his length in it, coating himself and you in the mixture as he thrusts up into you without warning.

Although you were outside, the slapping, squelching sounds seem to echo off of the walls of the labyrinth. You can hear him groan in pleasure behind you, enjoying the feeling of choking you as he gazes down at the view of himself sinking into you over and over again. He loved seeing you like this, his hand around your throat and your pussy covered in a mixture of blood, cum and spit as he pulled you back once again. His mouth meeting yours in a hurried kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth. Both of your breaths quickened you taste his blood from his split lip once more. As soon as the taste hits your tongue you feel yourself tighten around him, his free hand coming down to rub circles into your clit.

‘Cum for me little dove’ He demands as you moan, your head dropped back onto his shoulder. ‘Show me what a good girl you are’ He prompts as his fingers press harder into you, desperate to draw out your orgasm. ‘Fuck, that’s it sweet girl’ groaning into your ear as you ride out your climax around his cock, tightening on him as his pace picks up.

His movements becoming more erratic as he works towards his own peak, your body limp in his grip as he fucks you, exhausted from your own climax and over stimulated as he thrusts into you. Your moans must have been loud enough to be heard outside of the labyrinth you were sure, and now as you feel him throb inside of you, you were certain people must have heard him too. Without warning he spills inside of you, his cum painting your walls white as he bites down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood as he climaxes.

Both breathing heavily he pulls your head back by your hair for one last lust filled kiss. His touch almost tender as he removes himself from you. You hear him fastening his belt as you hold onto the statue in front of you for balance, all of your clothing ripped and discarded on the floor you feel him place his jacket onto your shoulders.

‘You scared me’ you say with a slightly fearful smile, the evidence of your enjoyment in your voice as you speak out for the first time since entering the maze, your tone coming out rasp. ‘Maybe we should do it again some time’ you giggle as you move your ass back against him, eliciting no response other than the sound of his continued breathing. ‘Don’t you think so Oliver?’ You ask, hoping with all of your heart that finally after all of this your soft kind man would return to you but receiving no reply.

‘Oliver?’ You question into the darkness as you turn, your eyes searching for him despite having felt his touch on you only moments ago. But he was nowhere to be seen, the only trace of him being his jacket on your shoulders, his blood on your lips and the trickle of his cum now working its way down your thigh. ‘Oliver?’ You speak out quieter. He was gone and you knew it. Gathering your things you made your way back towards the house, was any of it real?

Message to be added to the tag list! : @lillypink @ilovesaltburn @simplymakkari @hahahafucku @rorysgirll @jubileexoxo @grandpaintersuit @anniemay67 @idontevenknow1359 @frayafriggafrey @rpgdoll @veevsterz @samosas0900 @vivalafae

[yenqa]

firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa. 

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa. 

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize. 

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply. 

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. 

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[milswrites]

The Bat Boys X Bookworm!Reader

Summary: What the Bat Boys (and Eris & Lucien) are like with their bookworm partners

Warnings: Lil smutty and nsfw (not too much just want to cover myself) so 18+ MDNI

Notes: Just a bit of fun really, it's different to what I usually write but I hope you guys like it!

Rhysand

Rhysand loves you

And if loving you means that he has to feed your obsession with buying books?

Then he would happily clear out all the bookshops in Velaris if it meant getting to see you smile.

Rhysand is rich-rich.

Which means if there's something you want? He'll buy it for you without question.

You once mentioned about how much you'd love your own library one day.

So of course by the end of the week you had your own little haven inside Rhysand's house with more books than you could ever dream of reading and your own little ladder to reach them all.

But he didn't stop there.

For your mating gift he purchased you your very own library in Velaris

In which Rhys may or may not have enacted his fantasies of sleeping with a Librarian.

Whilst Rhysand does like to read, his taste in books is very different to your own.

But even though he doesn't read the books you do, he's more than happy to sit and listen to you talk about your favourite ones for hours if that meant being able to see your eyes light up as you talked about something you loved.

But no books nor libraries could top the best gift he had ever given you.

A hand-written book containing the story of your relationionship.

Complete with crude little comments and drawings the High Lord had scribbled down in the margins.

Rhysand loved history.

So what better way to preserve his undying love for you than in-between the pages of a book which would last forever.

Cassian

Cassian had never been very interested in books.

He'd much rather experience the thrill of real fighting and action in person than spend his time reading about it on some dusty old pages.

In fact the only time Cassian had been in a library he had the terrifying encounter with Bryaxis.

Safe to say that the trauma he experienced was the perfect excuse for never stepping in one again.

Until he met you.

Cassian has always been the type of guy who's all in or nothing.

He discovers the person he has a crush on likes reading?

You know he's going to be walking around with books he's never even opened pretending like he is a well-read Illyrian.

Citing quotes he doesn't even understand just to try and impress you.

And once you're together?

You show Cassian exactly what he's missed out on when it comes to reading.

Especially when it comes to getting tips for your bedroom activities.

For months after you revealed to him the wonders that are smut books, Cassian would spend his free time delving through the pages looking for new ideas on how to spice up your sex life.

Claiming his increased interest in reading was due to 'research purposes'

Cassian is 100% down to roleplay characters from your novels

He loves being the big strong hero to your damsel.

Whenever Cassian catches you reading, happily curled into the comfort of your sofa, he'll approach with a smirk on his lips

"Any new tricks you'd like to try out? I think page 69 is worth a shot."

Azriel

Azriel's a busy guy.

He's always away on missions for Rhysand or working in the dungeons of the Court of Nightmare's

So he can be forgiven if when he comes home, reading is the last thing on his mind.

But what he does enjoy though, is when you read to him.

He can lay with his head in your lap for hours.

Humming along to whatever tale you tell whether it's fantasy, romance or a good thriller

Sometimes he'll even offer his input. Laugh when something especially funny happens or shed a tear whenever a character he likes died.

Azriel loves the sound of your voice

Enjoying the way you put on voices whenever a character is speaking.

He's grown to like the sense of domesticity that he feels whenever you read to him. Allowing himself to imagine you doing this to two little Illyrian babies of your own.

Reading to your wide eyed children as they are gripped by the tales you're telling

Azriel is also a gentleman.

Need a hand with carrying the books you're choosing whilst you shop?

He's there

Hands willingly taking everything you stack on top of him, trailing after you with your selections like a lost puppy.

And when you get to the till?

Azriel had already spoken to the shopkeeper upon entry and added anything you chose to his account. Claiming the books were just as much his as they were yours if you were going to read them to him.

Azriel is definitely the type of male who likes you to read your smut to him as he pleasures you, acting out the words on the page until you're unable to speak anymore, leaving the rest of the chapter to your own imagination.

Eris

Eris is a reader.

He loves nothing more than to settle down after a long day with a good book in hand and a steaming tea.

You can't tell me he doesn't find it the hottest thing ever when he discovers you like to read too

The two of you have your own little book club

You'll each read the same book and then have a little meeting when it's over to discuss what you thought of it.

He can also get really emotional and intense about them.

God knows the amount of times you've had to calm him down when a character has made a choice he didn't like.

I think Eris definitely likes to write too

Not seriously, but it's a good way for him to get his thoughts out and to escape from the day to day of his reality.

And he loves to have you read his work

To see the way your face lights with joy as your eyes flick through his beautiful prose.

A small smile upon his lips at the knowledge that the muse for his writings was you.

Lucien

Lucien also likes to read.

But the way you read?

It terrifies him.

The way you obsess over the characters from your stories.

Your passionate opinions on their decisions and the plots.

God forbid Lucien says something about them that you don't agree with.

Lucien finds you positively feral when it comes to the stories you like.

But that doesn't stop him from wanting to show interest in them too.

Lucien likes to read all your favorite books and leave annotations of his thoughts in the margins.

This was exactly how the two of you had gotten together, the male having gifted you with a copy of a book he had noticed you reading.

The pages filled with scratchy comments and opinions on everything that happened.

Lucien pours his soul into his annotations and you love that.

Lucien is also a poetry man.

He loves to recite verses to you which stick out to him

Sometimes they were romantic, making your heart stop in your chest and breath catch in your throat.

But Lucien was also a fan of satirical poetry

The most ridiculous, corny things you have ever heard.

He'll come find you as you're going about your day and recite his latest read to you - your eyes rolling to the back as you did so, yet you fail to hide the smile which crosses your face every time he does so.

He has also tried to write you poetry before, express the depth of his feelings towards you. Safe to say his lame attempt of a limerick earnt him a scoff and had you hiding all his poetry books from him for the next month.

[ficmenrhot]

Finnick’s trauma and comforting him:( /angst/

TW: mentions of forced prostitution and description of some gore and violence, a little bit of self hatred, talking about traumatic events

A/N: to all those survivors and victims of traumatic events, I’m proud of you…and this is a reminder that your loved ones are always willing to listen. Also, this is quite long so buckle up!

————————————

I think it is pretty much common knowledge that Finnick Odair has some deep trauma from his time in the games and past. Although most victors of the Hunger Games suffered the same fate, Finnick was caught in Snow’s grasp too young..too vulnerable. He was forced to participate in the 65th Hunger Games at only 14-to kill others for survival- and when he won, thinking that all the suffering would be over then, he was threatened to become a prostitute at 16, otherwise his loved ones would be slaughtered- in which they did.

Finnick tries so hard to put on a facade in front of the Capitol- when he attends shows and interviews- and he does an amazing job at that. He tries so, so hard to remain strong for you too…to try and convince you that he really is alright by lying that his past no longer haunts him. He wants to assure you that he is stable because he is afraid of becoming a burden to you, afraid to be pushed away or feared by you because of his ‘problems’. The last thing he needs is to have the last person he loves vanish from his life.

However, at times, the stresses and memories just come flooding back to him and he finds himself breaking down.

Sometimes at night, you’ll be awoken by the soft sobs of Finnick crying, and seeing him in that state just absolutely destroys you…as if a thousand knives to your heart.

His back is facing you to avoid having you see his teary face, quietly sniffing into a pillow in his arm. He looks so vulnerable…almost like he’s fourteen all over again, and your heart throbs at the sight of your love- usually so big and strong- breaking down into pieces.

“…F-Finnick, my love?” You whisper ever so softly, sitting up against the headboard as you place a your much smaller hand on his shoulder.

Finnick turns at you, his eyes red and tears welling up at his waterline, long lashes wet and cheeks a little flushed from crying. He blinks, wiping away his tears, voice raspy as he says apologetically,

“Honey….I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

This man. He’s breaking down and he is so selfless that he apologises to you for experiencing valid emotions?!

“Oh Finnick, why are you apologising? It’s not your fault..you know it never is. Was it the nightmares again?” you ask gently with sympathetic eyes.

You have no idea what Finnick had to go through in the Hunger Games or any idea of what it is like to have your body sold but whatever it feels like, you know it must be terrible…so painful and terrible for somebody as strong as Finnick to be shattered. And you wouldn’t even have to think for a second to do anything at all -to kill or to sacrifice your own safety- just to share half of Finnick’s pain….to lift the weighs off his shoulders.

“My love, would you like me to hold you?” It is the least you can offer.

Finnick sniffs quietly and nod, moving closer to you to lay on your chest. Your fingers delve into his golden curls, playing with his hair as it is one of your favourite ways to calm him down. The two of you find peace in the silence before you ask softly:

“Would you like to share what happened, Finnick? Or we can talk about it when you feel better and just cuddle back to sleep…whatever you’re comfortable with, my love.”

Finnick is quiet for a few moments before he blinks and rubs at his wet lashes, “..it was…it was another nightmare. I had to kill the last tribute…a young girl from district 11. She was only a few years older than me…forced into the Games too…and I had to k-kill her to win…” His voice cracks as a tear rolls down his cheeks, and you wipe it away with your thumb, nodding as you listen attentively.

“It was terrible…the look on her face when I stabbed her with my trident…I can still remember her shrill screams, the look of betrayal on her face…the way her body thudded to the ground with blood soaking up her wetsuit.” Finnick begins to sob once more.

“Shhh..shhh” you coo, stroking Finnick’s cheeks as you attempt to comfort him.

Finnick shakes his head, breath hitched and uneven as he sobs in your hands, and the heartache of seeing him like this nearly eats you alive.

“I…I’m disgusting…I feel impure….and with what Snow did to me…”

“…the things he made me do…I feel disgusting....”

Prostitution is something you know of Finnick’s past, but it is a topic he has never really opened up on until this moment. You never forced him or questioned him about it because you know it is an event of great trauma to him.

You can only stroke Finnick’s hair to sooth him and hold him tightly in support as he continues, feeling both sympathy and proudness that he is able to open up about this topic.

“No matter how much I try to wash myself, to scrub my skin and submerge myself in soap, I can still smell the sickening scent of Capitol perfumes. Sometimes…I feel sorry that I can’t be a better partner for you sweetheart……and I’m so afraid that you’ll leave me or regret me or feel shameful of me.”

You cup Finnick’s face for him to look at you and there are a thousand emotions visible in your eyes as you speak.

“Are you kidding, Finnick? Look me in the eye when I tell you that I will never regret loving you or feel ashamed of you. I’m so proud to have you as my partner, as my lover, so proud of how strong you are…how strong you remain after the terrible things you had to go through.”

“In fact, my love, I look up to you. You’re my role model Finnick, and if I were in your shoes, I would not be able to handle things half as well as you do. You are kind, amazing, beautiful and definitely not disgusting. Trust me when I say that that is the last thing you’ll ever be. Besides, it wasn’t your choice to kill that tribute, anyone would’ve done the same.”

And with that, his sea green eyes softens, and that smile you’re familiar with finally appears on his face. Dimples when he smiles. You press a soft kiss on his forehead and stroke his hair as the two of you hold each other sleepily, slowly dozing off to a deep slumber. The last words you mutter being:

“I love you, my love.”

“I love you more, honey. And thank you….really.”

——————————————————————

A/N: AHHHH! tell me why I almost cried writing this?! This is my first angst and I think the lost piece I’ve written by far (on this new account). Please like or reblog if you enjoyed this, and follows are most definitely appreciated ;)

[rae-writes]

the things we [didn't] forget about

om boys x reader

wc : 2.k

warnings : angst, hurt-comfort, depictions of lesson 16, non-detailed panic attack+ptsd

synopsis : Even things locked away and forgotten can be remembered by the body that experienced it

It all happened so sudden. But terror can do that to a person. 

Terror is cold and dark and it curls around someone like a viper; encasing their ankles so they can’t run, slithering up their legs to squeeze at their abdomen so hard it feels like they’re going to be sick, winding around and around their chest so tight they can’t breathe, and even tighter around their neck so every cry for help is lodged inside. 

Terror doesn’t end there, either. It festers inside of them, flowing through their veins and arteries— ice cold so they begin to shiver, though their bodies are confused when they begin to sweat from the panic. 

And suddenly, that viper unravels, bringing every feeling rushing back to that person all at once- so fast it sends their mind crashing to figure out exactly what is happening and what they’re really feeling and what’s actually real and are they even safe— 

It was only a couple seconds. Only a couple seconds where the body freezes up and this domino effect of emotions lines up before tipping into a hysterical reaction.  It’s overwhelming; and that’s when the sound comes out.

Mephisto had simply thrown a tape measure over your head from behind, swiftly and casually pulling it taut around your neck to get your measurements for the choker that would be going with your festival outfit. 

Yet no matter how gentle his actions were, no matter how non-restricting the tape measure was, the feeling hurdled you right back to that night. 

The night of your death. The night Belphie killed you. 

And you let out a blood curdling scream. 

The common room around you melted into the attic, the thin measuring tape being replaced by Belphie’s tail slyly sliding around your neck from behind before tightening and crushing your windpipe. 

You knew it wasn’t real. You’d moved past that night, forgiven Belphie, made amends. The nightmares ended, the anxiety of being close to the sloth demon became none— you had overcome the incident. 

But as you tripped backwards over your own two feet, screaming and crying and scrambling even further back, you think that maybe you hadn’t forgotten. Maybe you’d just buried it deep, deep down, not wanting to ever think of it again; the memory was still there, however. Still in full color with full intensity. 

For a moment, the others might’ve been confused. Scared, worried, startled. But when your hands shot up to check over your throat, fingers poking and prodding at the skin to make sure everything was still as it should be, they knew.

†

Lucifer, for the first time, doesn’t think about his actions as he moves, covering your body with his own as his wings shield you from your surroundings. His feet moved on their own, body driven by the sole instinct- the need- to just protect you. Even if there was nothing to physically protect you from, even if he couldn’t reach into your mind and just erase the bad memories, he shields you with his body because he wants you to know he’s there. He’s there and he’s not going to let anything past him until you’re ready because you are all that’s on his mind right now, all that’s at the forefront of his heart right now, and so he’ll stay right there on the floor with you pressed against him like glue for as long as you want; even when your cries stop and you relax in his hold, he won’t move until you’re ready to get up. His fingers brush away hair from your face, cradling your cheeks as he keeps you hidden away in his wings, feathers brushing over your skin softly every time exhales. He’s not going anywhere, this, he can promise.

Mammon was by your side in an instant, arms winding around you comfortingly to pull you into his lap, cradling you so gently and so softly. He forces his scent to envelop you, for his voice to be the only one you hear, for his warmth to seep into your skin until you’re able to look up at him with swollen eyes. He’s drying all your tears, cooing sweet nothings because dammit, he couldn’t protect you when it actually happened, so he’s sure as hell going to protect you now. His fingers caress your neck, soothing over the red lines you caused, tapping almost playfully over your pulse point; his voice comes out unusually soft and sweet as he pours out his heart in hopes that it’ll drown out the darkness you’re facing. He loves you so fucking much, you know? He’d do anything for you. Anything and everything, and he’s never going to leave your side, and he’s always going to try and protect you. He swears. 

Levi has the immediate instinct to run and hide, but as he listens to your cries and watches you frantically make sure your neck isn't broken, the instinct changes to wanting to run and hide with you wrapped safely in his arms. His tail curls around you, replacing the discomfort of terror, and instead making you feel protected— he might not be confident in himself, especially when he couldn’t do anything to help you last time, but he’s confident in his love for you and that makes his eyes flare in determination. Swiftly, he’ll lift you with his tail and pull you into his arms and just take you away to the safety of his bathtub-bed; here, he can protect you. Here, you can feel safe with just him and the porcelain tub wall pressed against you. Here, he can hide you away and not let anyone come through that door until you’re ready. Here- right now- he can protect you, and until you’re ready, he won’t move an inch. 

Satan is startled, as he’s used to you being the calm one while he has outbursts— he has no idea what to do at first when you begin crying, and that makes him so angry because he should know how to comfort you. But how does someone comfort a person who’s having flashbacks from when they died? With careful steps and raised hands, like he’s trying not to spook a cat, he approaches you and whispers your name as a question, scrambling to wrap you in his arms once you reach out for him. He still doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say- what to even think- so almost absentmindedly, he’ll begin reading you his favorite book aloud from just memory alone. He doesn’t know how many chapters in he gets, but he does know that once you begin to relax in his arms, he’s relaxing himself because this, now, is familiar territory but even when it’s not, he’s never going to leave you alone. Ever. 

Asmo immediately begins fretting over your poor swollen eyes and blotchy red cheeks, trying to hide away his panic so he can focus on you instead. He gently dabs at your face with his silk handkerchief, citing off as many positive uses for it before he’s at a loss when the small squared fabric is completely soaked and you’re still crying. He’ll get unusually quiet after that, clamoring his way into your lap so he can wrap as much of his body around you as he can; this is his way of protecting you. Of letting you know that no one is going to hurt you again if he’s here- they’ll have to go right through him first…you shouldn’t cry, you know? But if it’ll make you feel better when you’re done, just let it out, and he’ll be happy to pamper you afterwards! He might not know exactly what to do right now, but he’ll be here anyway. Just for you, always for you. 

Beel is frozen, unable to move as he just stares at the sight of you breaking down with wide eyes; he was there. He remembers vividly what happened, but he also knew that everyone had moved past it in some way— but seeing you like this after so long? …Slowly, maybe as to not startle you- or maybe because he’s scared himself- he lowers himself to the floor beside you and ushers you in his lap. He might not know what to say or do, but he knows how to silently comfort, and that’s exactly what he does as he absentmindedly rocks you back and forth, quietly offering you bites of his snack as you start calming down. He might not be as vocal as some of his other brothers, but his love speaks volumes through the silence, and he just loves you so much. He rests his head on top of yours and promises he’ll always be there for you. . .and, quietly so no one else can hear, he apologizes for not being there that night. Apologizes for not being quick enough, for not knowing something was wrong, for letting his twin spiral so much out of control that he snapped…he’s so sorry. But he’ll be there for the rest of time— because he loves you. 

Belphie is backing away himself, completely mortified by your reaction; he did this to you and he already made it a point of making sure you knew he’d never forgive himself, but seeing you be dragged back forcefully into that experience felt like his heart was getting ripped out of his chest. His vision was getting blurry, chest heaving with stuttering breaths as he spiraled and not even Beel could pull him out of it— the only thing that saved him from breaking down was you. You crying out for him, you reaching out for him as your sobs quieted down into soft whimpers of his name. You wanted him to comfort you, even if he was the reason you were having such a bad flashback in the first place. And so he cries loudly, dropping to his knees and shakily crawling over to you, wrapping you in his arms as he utters apology after apology. He loves you so much and he’s sorry, he’s sorry- so sorry- so, so sorry. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 

Diavolo is a bit frazzled at first, molten hues wide in surprise before the feeling of guilt creeps over him. He’d been the one who ordered you to go back in time- he’d been so curious as to how the door opened that he hadn’t thought about the possibility of Belphegor hurting you…he also takes a slow approach, making sure you see him in your line of sight before he lowers himself to the ground. He doesn’t touch you, instead waiting for you to come to him first, but for some reason the first words that manage to come out of his mouth are ‘I’m sorry’. It almost brings tears to his own eyes when you scramble to him and try to bury yourself in his embrace, sobbing harshly against his chest; he doesn’t let you go. And he won’t, not until he knows you’re in a better state of mind. He failed you that day…but he won’t make the same mistake twice.

Barbatos was even more frazzled than Diavolo, even more guilty— because he was the one who sent you back. This is one of the rare times everyone sees him lose his composure because, truly, he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what to do and that scares him because you’re on the ground crying and he doesn’t know how to help you. For the first time in a really long time, he resorts to relying on his instincts rather than his head; he pulls you up in his arms, moving to settle down in a chair with you on his lap rather than being on the floor, and his fingers begin making soothing circles along the skin of your neck. He smoothes over where you accidentally scratched yourself, quietly reassuring you that he’ll be by your side and help you through it all— this, anything, and everything.

+

Simeon isn’t quite sure why you’re in such distress, but when he sees the look Lucifer has, he knows there’s a serious reason behind it. He forces his way past everyone without bothering to keep his polite smile on his face— his eyebrows are furrowed, his lips are tugged into a distressed frown, and there’s a slight shake to his hand as he softly caresses your cheek. He sends a wave of tranquility washing over you and pulls you into his arms when you slump in a sudden spell of exhaustion from his magic. There’s a searing surge of possessiveness that causes him to hold you tight and give the glare to anyone who tries to come closer; he knows it must be something to do with one of the demons because of how they’re looking at each other, so he’ll whisper assurances and promises to you as he sways you back and forth. He’s your guardian angel, remember? He’ll give everything he has to keep you safe, he promises. 

[platonic] Luke jumps when he hears you scream, eyes going wide and teary when he watches you start crying— he doesn’t know what happened and what is happening, all he knows is that you’re upset and that’s enough for him to practically fly across the room. He’s at your side in seconds, small frame latching onto you as he attempts to to fire off a million questions, but he’s starting to cry with you, so a lot of his words are jumbled. He’s so frustrated because all the demons- and even Solomon- are sharing a knowing expression, but he just doesn’t know why. It makes him cry harder but he ignores the fact that he’s doing it in front of everyone else and wobbly exclaims that he’s going to protect you! No matter what, no matter what it’s against— he’s your guardian angel! So he’s gonna be by your side against anything!

Solomon can’t help the grim expression that crosses his face, eyes stormy as he stands back and watches everyone fret over you. A strong possessive urge to protect you flares up suddenly and he also can’t help his snappy tone as he demands everyone get out of his way. He’s bringing you to your feet with magic, wrapping his arms gingerly around your waist as he turns your back to all the others in the room, making you see just him. He doesn’t try to hide the worry plastered over his face as he examines you, verifying there’s nothing physically wrong with you before focusing on reassuring you. He’s firm in the way he promises he’ll make sure nothing bad will happen to you again, swearing that he’ll protect you with every ounce of his being. He was livid when he found out what happened- and he’s livid even now knowing that you still have mental scars from it- but the only thing he can do is be there for you. And he’s going to. No one can stop him. 

Mephisto is horrified, thinking he hurt you somehow even though he’s certain he didn’t accidentally scratch you or pull the tape measure too tight. The knowing glance- and reassuring ‘you didn’t do this’ shake of the head from his lord- made him feel no less panicked, though he at least knew you weren't hurt— physically. With a quiet, almost hesitant voice, he’ll call out for you and get on his knees to softly apologize.  He’s completely out of his element when you crawl into his lap and bury your face in his neck, and yet he pulls you impossibly closer; whatever you want, whatever you need, he’ll be at your beck and call. His time, his attention, his money, his affection- it’s always been all yours and he’ll do anything to make you happy, you know that?

[grievedeeply]

Could you possibly write ghost x reader, of like the reader returning from being MIA (missing in action) for like a week?

If not that's okay!

my first request for cod!! thank you! i really like this idea, so i hope you enjoy my writing for it! decided to make it headcanons :)

gn!reader | tws include : kidnapping , being held hostage

join my taglist!!

ghost's s/o returning after being mia headcanons

you barely remember anything while you were alone. you know you were separated from your squad, and they spent hours looking for you. you were told that by the people who had kidnapped you

they wanted information. they always did. you weren't too sure why they took you out of everyone you were with— but there you were, stuck there with no weapons and no one to help you escape

simon knew you were out on a mission. he knew you were capable and more than experienced to do so without him. he worried. he always did— but he knew you would be okay

so when he's told you've been declared as missing in action, his world flips upside down. where were you? were you dead? alive? locked up somewhere? tortured? the thought of you being anything but alive and safe made his stomach churn

you were found after a week and brought back to where your base was quickly afterwards. you were questioned for hours by your superiors, and given looks of pity from people like laswell and price for what you went through

your eyes are empty. cold. you went into your kidnapping with a positive outlook, but as the days passed you wondered if they even noticed you were missing

simon sees you and his heart melts. you were safe, and you looked unharmed from what he could tell. he knew you were far from okay— though. what those people could do to force information out of someone.. it hurt even thinking about it happening to you

you gave no information away, even after days of starving and questioning. you refused to. you wouldn't put simon in danger

he feels the need to hover around you for a few days. the rest of the 141 hardly ever see him during this time. they know he cares about you more than anyone else, though. it's not a surprise he's been gone

it's probably the most emotional simon has been a long time. he doesn't cry, but he feels like he could if he thought about it too much

he gets you everything you might need or want and hardly ever leaves your side unless he has to

if you have nightmares, he's shaking you awake, holding you in his arms as you explain what had happened in them

he does everything he does because he wants you to know he cares for you

he knows he can be distant, but he knows with your line of work tomorrow is never promised. he never takes his time with you for granted. he can't. not anymore.

[lolokouhm]

thinking about Megumi, who's finally managed to fall asleep, right here, in the middle of the day. his head rests on your lap and you can't help but admire his delicate features. these insanely long, black lashes. soft cheeks, that don't really look squishy when he stands and looks down on you, but somehow become way more adorable when he's laying just like that. his breath is steady and you really, really don't want to wake him up, but your fingers just keep wandering to the strands of black hair on his forehead. you brush them off as carefully as you can, trying not to tickle him.

thinking about Megumi, whose eyes suddenly open wide and he almost jumps up, frantically looking around the room until his gaze lands on you. his calmness is long gone - what's left is an expression of a man who's just experienced something unbelievably awful. he stares at you for a moment, unable to say anything, trying to catch a breath long enough to actually give him some oxygen to function.

thinking about Megumi, who's completely pale when you ask him what happened. he just shakes his head, but he's still laying on you and you can perfectly feel how fast his heart beats. his hand catches yours, desperate and trembling, looking for something real. your touch.

thinking about Megumi, who says that he had the worst dream and you just quietly nod. it's not the first time - it's been going on for months now, a reoccurring nightmare. of him, but not him. him killing his sister. and apparently this time, not only her.

thinking about Megumi, who's finally calming down. it's just a bad dream, you say, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. it's going to be over soon falls from your lips as a promise, and the tension slowly leaves his body, but he keeps holding onto you. he'd never say that out loud, but he begs for that small, warm hand of yours to stay locked firmly inside of his palm. preferably forever.

thinking about Megumi, who's finally back to sleep, and you just can't help but want to find Gege Akutami and take his pen away for good. maybe even hit him with it.

masterlist ❤️

[colourstreakgryffin]

Can you do Tanjiro x fem!reader where he accidentally hurts her? Like, he’s asleep and having a nightmare and reader is trying to wake him up and when he wakes up he punches her cause it was a nightmare about demons.

I hope this makes sense😭

Ommmmggg. Tanjiro will be so upset about that! I’m totally doing this, loves! Thank you!

Kamado Tanjiro- Truly Accidental

No… no… no. It was a accident. Tanjiro swears it! He wasn’t trying to put his hands on you! He was just having a truly vivid dream and he felt his body acting on it’s own. It made him swing at literally nothing, despite the fact his visions were merely fantasy

He truly woke up a familiar pained gasp and loud thud. His plum reds widened in shock and horror at the image before him, it tore his heart out and stomped all over it ten times fold. You, on your flat back and holding your cheek

No. He didn’t punch you, did he? Tanjiro is so panicked and concerned, his head screaming at him with such hateful comments, as he tries his best to crawl over to you to try fix the situation, his heart shattering at the way you flinch

He didn’t mean it… he was so sorry

“D-Dokusha… I’m so sorry… I-I… I didn’t mean to do that, I just—” Tanjiro whispered out in a plunge of disbelief and terror at his own subconscious actions. He woke up from such a horrific, hyperrealistic nightmare consisting of him throwing it down with a wave of rabid demons bare-fisted. He couldn’t believe he could take those monsters down without his katana but his fighting spirit and survival instincts kicked in to try defend himself

You, on the other hand, was sleeping peacefully and cuddled up to your lovely fiancé, Tanjiro when you felt his calloused hands grip your kimono a bit tighter, unintentionally stirring you awake as you scanned over his frowning expression and tighter clamped-shut eyes. He was asleep but imagining a not-so-pleasant situation in his unconscious headspace

In intense worry for your fiancé’s health, you begun to shake Tanjiro’s still frame with no response from him for almost a whole minute after whispering out his name repetitively and repetitive requests for him to wake himself up for far too long for your anxiety to handle. You needed to wake him up and comfort him over that obvious nightmare he was experiencing when the second his eyes shot open, his mighty fist swung at your face and flung you over the futon to the nearby wooden-pane floor. Both of you were really fear-struck and shocked at his actions

“Wait. Please, I-I swear I would never hurt you… I-I’m sorry, I love you. Come back…” Tanjiro whispers weakly at your horrified eyes glaring at him, tears welling up in his own glassy eyes as his brain tried its best to process exactly what happened. He couldn’t believe a single ounce of this situation and the fact it actually happened by his own fist. Why did he punch you when you weren’t a demon? How was that dream so realistic that it made him lash out at his beautiful spouse!

You sniffed softly at him, slowly raising up to sit and maintaining eye contact. Tanjiro was using everything he had to keep himself from crying as his guilt and shame piled up to an uncontrollable rate. How could he make it up to you when he was the one who caused you fear and pain? He would never forgive himself for this incident and he was very tempted to sleep in the kitchen or slice his own fingernails as punishment

He should be able to control himself. Hurting somebody important to him like Nezuko or Giyuu is a awful one thing, but hurting the one person he has developed such a powerful romantic love for such as you, it makes him feel like a worthless pile of shit. Rather it was a accident or not, he was ready to take the blame and accept you yelling at him… but you never did

You gently stroked his face to try comfort him, tears rolling over the soft skin of your hand as he went to protest at your kindness. He doesn’t deserve empathy after hurting you, you’re the victim. Why are you acting like he deserves forgiveness? You keep up a soft smile, further highlighting that nasty reddish mark on your cheek where his full-power fist landed and the mark he made caused his heart to stop beating for a second or two. Tanjiro kept his gaze on you, trying to process everything all at once even though, he just couldn’t keep himself composed anymore

“Dokusha… I don’t get it… I-I hurt you… I just punched you when you tried to wake me up… w-why are you—”

“Because I love you too, Kamado Tanjiro”

[bingwriterxo]

drunk

pairing: tara carpenter x freeman!reader

summary: in which you've turned to drinking as a coping mechanism

warnings: talks of stabbing, mentions of throwing up

word count: 1600+

scream 5 spoilers! read at your own risk!

Heavy and rushed knocks on the front door of the apartment drew Tara from sleep. She sat up in her bed with bated breath and turned on her beside lamp as she heard Sam flick her own light on in the bedroom next to hers. There was the sound of shuffling footsteps, her sister's voice as she called out, "Who is it?", muffled noise as whoever was standing out in the hall answered, and then the clinking of locks being undone and the squeak of the door opening. 

Tara waited for a few moments, released the breath she was holding, and wondered if she'd have to get out of bed next. Her question was answered when Sam yelled, "Tara! Can you come in here?"

She slipped out of bed quickly, feet soft against the wood floor, and padded out into the living room. She was greeted by the sight of Sam, who was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, and Mindy and Chad, who were looking at her with worried eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked. 

"Tara!" The voice startled her as it came from none of the three people she was staring at, and she ventured farther into the room until she could see over the back of the couch. You were lying there, a wide grin on your face at the sight of the brunette and your arms wide open, like you were expecting her to just lay down right on top of you. "Hi, baby!" you greeted. 

She smiled. "Hi, Y/N."

"She's, like, really fucked up right now," Chad said, and Tara whipped her head up, staring at him with wide eyes. 

"What do you mean 'she's fucked up right now'?"

"He means," Mindy began, causing Tara's attention to fall on her instead, "that she showed up at my dorm like half an hour ago looking for you. She was blubbering like an idiot because she missed you but forgot how to get to your apartment." The girl shrugged. "I went to get Chad and we brought her over here."

"That's the fourth time this week, Tar," Sam interjected carefully, watching her younger sister. "She's been drinking a lot."

Tara glanced down at you, who was staring at her with big, dreamy eyes and clearly not listening to the conversation at hand, and sighed. "I know." She glanced at her friends and sister. "She's...she's still coping with...you know." The brunette didn't have to say the words for them all to understand what she meant: Woodsboro. 

Of them all, you had probably experienced the worst betrayal--Amber was your twin sister, and you had had no idea what she was planning until it happened. The raven-haired girl had stabbed you mercilessly with the idea of leaving no survivors behind, and you nearly died. 

Tara had experienced far too many times the nightmares that you would wake up from, in which your sister was hovering over you again, that same horrible smirk on her face as she dug the knife into you repeatedly. She'd tried to get you to talk about it, but you always refused and instead turned to partying as much as possible, which always resulted in this same ending--you, on her couch, plastered to the point of no return, and her taking care of you. 

Sam sighed. "I'll grab some Advil and water." She turned to Mindy and Chad. "You two can go now, if you want. Or stay." She shrugged. "Either way. Doesn't matter to me." She made her way to the kitchen, and the twins decided to follow her, leaving you and Tara alone in the living room.

"Oh, Y/N," Tara sighed as she rounded the couch. She kneeled beside you and placed her hands on your cheeks gently. You simply watched, leaning into her touch a bit. 

"Hi, pretty girl," you slurred, and, even after having been with you for the past three years, Tara could feel herself blush at the compliment. "Can we go cuddle?"

"Soon, my love." She rubbed her thumb against your skin and leaned closer. Your eyes flitted down to her lips, and she chuckled. "You can't keep doing this to yourself," she whispered. "It's not good for you."

You sucked in a breath. "Yeah."

Tara knew she wasn't going to get a real conversation out of you, not when you were that drunk, but she took that word as a sign that you at least knew that what you were doing wasn't right. She sighed and decided to table the conversation for the morning.

Sam returned then, with the twins in tow, and said, "I left two pills and a glass of water on your nightstand for her when she wakes up."

"Thanks, Sam," Tara said gratefully. She stood up and glanced at you before looking to Chad. "Could you...?"

He nodded and crossed the room, slipping one hand beneath your shoulders and the other beneath your knees. He picked you up gingerly and carefully carried you to Tara's room, lying you down on her bed. 

"Be good, champ," he said to you, squeezing your shoulder lightly before telling Tara, "We'll come by tomorrow."

"Okay," the brunette said with a nod, and then he disappeared, shutting the door behind him. She could hear the twins and Sam talking softly in the living room, most likely about the situation at hand, but her attention was focused on you. 

"Can we cuddle now?" you asked.

"Soon," she repeated. "Let me get you out of those clothes." She was gentle as she helped you out of your jeans and top, and then just as gentle as she slipped you into a pair of her pajama shorts and an old soccer t-shirt of hers. "Doesn't that feel better?"

You only hummed in response, and she knew that the alcohol was starting to put you to sleep. She nodded to herself and then climbed into bed beside you, reaching over your body to shut off her lamp. Once the two of you were encased in darkness--save for the small night light Tara had glowing in the corner; she couldn't find it in herself to sleep in the complete dark anymore, and neither could you--she wrapped an arm around your waist and buried her face between your shoulder blades, legs intertwining with your own.

"I wish you'd stop doing this to yourself," she whispered to ears that weren't listening. She held you close and tried to ignore the tears that pricked at her eyes. 

* * *

When she woke up, you were no longer in bed with her, but she could hear you in the bathroom throwing up, and she ran a hand down her face. The noise only lasted for a moment before the flush of the toilet came, and then the sound of the faucet, and then you were standing in her doorway, your palm pressed to your forehead.

"I feel like shit," you mumbled. 

Tara chuckled softly. "Well, you were really drunk last night, so I'm not surprised."

You groaned as you sauntered toward her bed, throwing yourself down on the edge of it. She sat up, rubbing a slow hand down your spine as you sat there, praying for your head to stop pounding. 

"Could you hand me the stuff on your nightstand?" you asked, referring to the pills and water Sam had left there the night before. Tara nodded, shuffling a bit before returning to you, placing the items in your hands.

You took the pills quickly and gulped down the glass of water after them, sighing with relief as the liquid quenched your parched throat. 

Silence blanketed the two of you for a moment before Tara decided to speak up. "That was the fourth time this week that that's happened, Y/N," she said, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

You clenched your eyes shut at the thought, releasing a shaky breath. "I know." You turned to her. "And I'm sorry that you keep having to take care of me."

She shook her head. "That's not what I care about. I'm more than happy to take care of you when you need it." She inhaled deeply. "But you can't keep doing this. It's not healthy."

You glanced down, staring at the bedsheets. "I know that, too, but...the only time I can't hear her is when I'm drinking." You swallowed. "Any time else, she's in my head. I don't...I don't know what else to do," you confessed quietly. Tara could see tears brim your eyes. "She won't go away."

"Is it just...that night?" she asked carefully. She didn't want to push, or that would cause you to end the conversation completely, and this was the most she had gotten out of you since the attack happened. 

"No," you said with a shake of your head. "No, sometimes it's just...memories, of growing up. I mean, with our parents gone all the time, we were basically the only family each other had. She...she wasn't great, obviously, but she was still my sister, and I just--" You were trembling, thoughts of Amber swirling around in your head and tears unable to be kept at bay. "I miss her, Tara."

"Y/N..." Tara wrapped her arms around your shoulders and pulled you in, your face burrowing into her neck. She felt as your tears soaked her skin, and she held you tighter. "You're allowed to miss her. It's normal."

"But with everything she did, I feel like I shouldn't," you sobbed. "It's just...it's so much. And I--God, Tara, I just want things back to the way they were."

She ran her hands through your hair. "I know, baby. I know."

"How do I get it to stop? H--how do I stop feeling like this?"

Tara sighed. "It's gonna take time, sweetheart. And talking, too, you know. That'll help."

You pushed yourself further into her. "I'm sorry," you cried.

She shushed you. "What're you apologizing for? You don't have to apologize."

"I've been such a mess recently, and...and you've had to take care of me, and--"

"It's okay. It's okay." She tightened her grip. "You're okay. We'll just...we'll find you a better outlet, okay? That sound good?"

You nodded against her, your sobs quieting a bit. "Thank you. For being here. For sticking with me, after everything."

Tara pulled away just enough to place a kiss against your temple. "I'll always be here. I'm not going anywhere."

[a-soft-hornytiny]

False accusation.

Summary: They accuse you of betrayal. Little did they know they were making a big mistake. 

Word count: 1.5k+

Genre: Angst (good? ending)

Pairing: Ateez x neutral!reader

Warnings: Mafia!Ateez, toxicity, distrust, mention of a gun, slight violence (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: my first ever mafia!ateez fic! The request was for a female reader but the gender is not mentioned. I hope that's alright! And the fluff fell really short, like almost non existent but this is how it felt right so it is what it is.. and yeah idk this feels rushed but I’m way too insecure about writing angst so feedback is very welcome. 

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

————————————————————

Come on come on come on Your back was turned to the door as you nervously fiddled with your hands. It had already been a few months since you had found out about your boyfriends‘ jobs and at first you were shocked but it was them or going back to your boring everyday life. And even though it was morally questionable, you decided to stay with them.

It didn’t take long until they decided it would be best for you to live with them, to protect you. And although they never told you directly, you knew it was to control you as well. 

You had worked hard to gain their trust but recently they grew more suspicious of you. It was that you flinched when they came near you, that you always seemed to hide something and how nervous you were when they asked you what you were doing. You knew it would be troublesome for you if they found out but you were bad at hiding your emotions. Which was not ideal for the partner of eight highly experienced criminals.

Steps were heard in front of your door and you barely managed to hide what you were doing before Yunho entered your room. You turned around, sweat running down your forehead. 

“W-whats up?” You asked, nervously stepping forward before taking a deep breath. You needed to calm down, if you told on yourself now it would ruin everything. 

“Come outside.” Yunho’s voice was cold, giving you the shivers. He was scary. When you first met him, obviously outside of their work environment, you got to know him as a sunshine, but when you saw him angry for the first time, he was your personal nightmare. 

You stared at the ground as you followed him out of your room. You didn’t know where he was leading you but before you could ask, you were pressed face first against the wall. Your heart was beating up to your throat. 

“Do not dare to resist.” You whined quietly. You could recognise that voice anywhere. Another member that you rarely knew angry. He had pinned your hands against your back, pressing his whole body against you to fixate you against the wall.

“I promise I won’t!” Seonghwa’s face was right next to yours so you could feel his breath on your skin. “You better keep that promise.” He responded before pulling you away from the wall and guiding you into a room. But it wasn’t just any room. It was the room you had never been allowed to enter. The room out of which you sometimes heard loud voices in the middle of the night. 

Seonghwa harshly sat you down on a chair before leaving the room again. You were still in shock, unsure what was happening. It was an interrogation room. The chair you were sitting on was connected to the ground, just like the metal table in front of you. The gray walls were empty and the room generally felt cold. 

It didn’t take you long to recognise more familiar faces. One two three…. seven eight. All of them were here. Seonghwa and Yunho were standing right next to the entrance, Yeosang and Wooyoung covered the wall right behind you. Mingi, Jongho and San stood at the opposite side of the room. 

Before you could further inspect the room, hands slammed onto the table in front of you.

“Eyes on me.” Hongjoong growled, making you flinch. Fear was filling your body as you looked up to him. He stared right into your soul. This was the room where they uncovered all secrets, where they had no scruples. You were shaking.

“What is it.” He asked, although it sounded more like a statement. You had question marks in your eyes. “You’re hiding something from us. What is it?” You looked down onto your hands, all your nerves were overloaded with impulses. Too early. They couldn’t find out yet. Your plan would be ruined. 

“I-I’m not hiding anything.” A lie. A straight up lie. And you could feel that they knew. Suddenly you felt warm air on your neck.

“Don’t lie to us. We’re not dumb, little one.” You hadn’t even noticed how Wooyoung creeped up to you. You didn’t dare to turn around and look at him. His voice shook your soul. Little one. That cute nickname he had given you at the start of your relationship, usually making you feel precious, was now making you feel helpless. 

You felt tears swell up in your eyes. Don’t cry, you can not cry. You tried to tell yourself but it had no use. You felt horrible. You had let them into your heart and their distrust was hurting you deeply. But you couldn’t even be mad at them. You were hiding something. And they had made themselves vulnerable too.

“No need to cry love.. just tell us what you’re hiding.” San was kneeling down next to the table, resting his arms and head on the cold metal plate. He was smiling at you. But his eyes were cold. You felt a sting in your heart.

“I-…” Tears were uncontrollably running down your face now. “I’m sorry!” You cried out before burying your face into your hands. You didn’t want it to turn out like this but you should’ve known that they would misunderstand it. That they would think you would betray them. 

There was only one way out of this. You had to show them. But reaching into your pocket was a mistake. You heard a gun being armed. 

“Don’t move.” You froze immediately, only to look up and see Jongho holding his gun, pointed to the ground. 

“Please.. I just want to show you! You need to see it to understand.” Your voice was cracking with every word you were saying. Yeosang appeared behind you, putting both of your hands onto the cold table. “Where?” He demanded deeply. You shivered. “In my back pocket.” Your whole body was tense as Yeosang fished something out of your pocket and put it on the table. 

You let out a deep breath of relief as you saw them realize that the object wasn’t meant to harm anyone. 

“A bracelet?” Hongjoong asked, obviously taken aback. You nodded hesitantly. You felt the tension in the room slowly disappear.

“It’s for Mingi.” You said, causing him to look up curiously. “It’s the last piece of my.. my present for you. The rest is in the little casket under my bed.” You confessed. Yunho immediately stormed out of the room to see if you were telling the truth, leaving you in an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

But as you looked into their eyes, one after another, you saw the instant regret take the place of anger.

“I thought about it for a long time.. I can’t gift you anything that would be obviously linked to me or would connect all of you.” You slowly regained confidence to explain your behavior. “I wanted to surprise you.”

Yunho came in, putting the open casket onto the table. Their shock grew as they realized that you were telling the truth. 

A belly chain, a ring, a necklace, earrings, a choker, an anklet and a belt buckle. With the bracelet that was eight pieces. All of them were obviously self made. 

You forced a smile as you saw guilt forming in their eyes. The first one to apologize was Seonghwa. He stormed forward, embracing you into a hug. You were still tense but you slowly felt your fear fade away. 

“Put that damn gun away Jongho!” You heard Hongjoong whisper aggressively before you were let into the living room. You were now sitting on the couch, all eight of them in front of you, looking at you as if they just commited the most horrible crime. And in their minds they did. 

“Listen Y/n, there is nothing we can do to make this up to you.” Hongjoong started talking but you interrupted him. “Just take them.” You tried your best to forget the fear you felt and put all your love into that smile. 

You stood up, all your self made gifts in your hands. You stepped forward. The belt buckle for Hongjoong, the choker for Seonghwa, the ring for Yunho, the belly chain for Yeosang, the anklet for San, the bracelet for Mingi, the necklace for Wooyoung and the earrings for Jongho. 

Looking at them you wanted to feel love but the shock and pain was still sitting deep in your bones. The atmosphere was awkward, uncomfortable. You didn’t know how long it would take to work through this, the sound of a gun being armed still echoing in your brain. You had never realized how much danger you were in all the time. 

But you were willing to forgive them, no matter how much time it would take to heal. 

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Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @hoshischeekss @yeosangsbiceps @euphoric-emily16 @anyamaris @shinestarhwaa

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[elenadvrx]

for all you readers whom i've hurt with my previous nanami fic, this is for you. sorry (but not really hehe).

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

heart beating wildly, you wake up with a start and a little disoriented.

"na-nanami? darling, w-where are you?" tears were trickling down your cheeks, feeling the emotions brought on by the nightmare.

"hmm? sweetheart?" a deep, groggy voice cut through the haze of terror you were experiencing and you snap your head towards your husband's voice. wanting to feel him- to reassure yourself that he is still in one piece, you pat down his body and his face, struggling to keep your eyes focused on his features.

"my love, please don't ever leave me." feeling his hard and sturdy form under your hands brought on a great relief, causing more tears thinking about the nightmare you just had.

"hey, sweetheart, shh don't cry, what happened?" hearing the way you cry broke his heart, especially when he doesn't know what exactly is causing you to cry. "c'mere, tell me what's making you cry yeah? tell me who i need to fight."

hugging him tightly while you cry against his neck, you feel his big hands stroking your back up and down to comfort you. he feels so warm and alive. and you keep telling yourself that as you tried to get your words out without choking. he is indeed alive and well.

"i- i just had a nightmare that you were dead. all i had of you was your tie. nanami, you were dead!" recollecting the horrifying details of seeing your husband dead in front of you makes you grip him even tighter, not wanting to let him go for a second.

"sweetheart, i can't exactly fight a nightmare, can i?" chuckling, nanami gives you reassuring kisses on the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings to your ear.

"i'm here, and i will always be here. we'll grow old together and buy a retirement house in kuantan where we can read all we want and eat all the food they have to offer. i'm here, my love. i love you too much to leave you all alone."

your tears had slowly subsided hearing his voice, doing all he can to still the terror that was clutching onto your heart, grounding you to him. breathing in deep, you smell the familiar cologne, as subtle as it is. with a shaky voice, you softly confess "i love you too."

while stroking your head, nanami pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, cooing sweetly when he see your slightly swollen, watery eyes staring back at him. "i know, baby. no more crying, okay?" he brushes his lips slightly against your eyes, thumbing away the remaining tears left on your cheeks.

seeing his soft gaze and obvious love for you on his face, you can't help feeling a little bashful. you're sure he could feel your cheeks getting warmer.

"you're. so. adorable." bringing you back to his embrace after kissing your lips in between the words, he slowly lulls you back to sleep, hoping that this time you'll sleep soundly and peacefully.

"sleep, my love. i'll still be here when you wake up."

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Return and imprisonment

You thought you were freed from the shackles of Satoru Gojo when you found out he was sealed. But fate, which has been giving you signs for so long, has decided that it no longer wants to help you

Warnings: not really, only yandere!Satoru and a little-little creepy

~

On the day when the whole world seemed doomed, because the great Satoru Gojo was sealed, you finally found your freedom.

While people were cowering in fear, you were finally able to breathe freely. The oppressive walls of his luxury apartment, which became a golden cage for you, could be destroyed without fear that someone would come for you. It was actually quite easy to escape all this time. The only problem was that your "crazy lover" will always find you.

You can hardly remember how long you were in his loving arms, so you can hardly remember why he chose you in the first place. When you asked him that one day, Satoru gave you a big smile, as if you weren't shaking with fear at the time, hugged you gently, kissed your temple, and told you that he would never find the perfect person for him that you were.

You met him quite a long time ago, back in high school, and he seemed quite normal back then. He immediately started talking to you a lot, but for someone like Satoru, that was normal. You didn't mind either, especially since Gojo was stronger, more experienced, and could teach you how to fight curses better and thus reduce the chance that you would die by your own stupidity.

But with every month - no, week - that you knew him, something started to feel wrong, terrible. Satoru has always looked at you a lot, but since when did he stop blinking? Since when did he turn his head horribly behind you when you decided to change the trajectory a little? Since when did he run into you again and again, even though you never had the same schedule for every day?

When you first asked him about it, you should have immediately run to the other side of the world after answering. Gojo was in a trance at the time, muttering that he had never seen a creature as perfect as you. When he blinked, seeming to recover, he just smiled and, to your confusion, which should have been a horror, replied that he was telling the complete truth.

You haven't noticed the hints of fate for too long. But it couldn't have been any other way. You come from the "village", you have never interacted with other sorcerers, especially those as strong as Satoru. After talking to his friends and reasonably judging that the "strongest" ones have their own oddities, you continued to communicate with Gojo…

And then were abducted and locked up for several years.

It happened suddenly, on a day that didn't bode well. You just opened your eyes and realized that this wasn't the school dorm you were living in, since it was quite expensive to rent an apartment, but an unfamiliar room that was too richly furnished for it not to be a dream.

And you thought it was all a dream for a while, especially after Satoru showed up. Yes, the strange feeling in your stomach was still trying to warn you of the danger, but Gojo was smiling so sweetly at you while carrying your breakfast tray that you thought it was fine.

And then reality hit you.

You were wearing the same clothes as last night. You felt the weight of the fork and the hands of the sorcerer, who placed his big hands on your blanket-covered knees. You could taste the food perfectly, and you could smell the sheets and tell exactly what they had been washed with most recently.

If this was a dream, it was too real. If it was a dream, it soon turned into a nightmare.

There were strange bracelets on your hands and feet that gave off cursed energy. It only took you one attempt to use your abilities to realize that you are now completely defenseless.

A scream, a tantrum, a tray thrown at Satoru... all this caused the sorcerer, who was frozen next to the bed, only a slight smile of a man in love. When you asked him in a shaky voice what you were doing here, Gojo opened his arms as if inviting you into a hug and smiled harder, now looking like the maniac he was slowly becoming over the years.

"You're safe here, my sweetcake."

 And with these words, you have lost any freedom.

At first, Satoru wouldn't let you out of the room, which was large but very limited. He kept repeating that it was all for your safety, that it was the only way he, the strongest, could protect you from "the evil of this world." He treated you as if you were a lover who responded to his feelings. He continued to act as if all your screams, all your pleas, all your curses at him were nothing. He pretended not to notice that you didn't want to be here at all.

Gradually, he allowed you to walk all over the apartment. And even though it was bigger and better than his bedroom, where you were forced to sleep in the same bed as the man who kidnapped you, you still didn't feel any better. There wasn't a single person you could talk to except Satoru, who would return from missions and continue to demand love from you as if you were his beloved wife.

You've wandered through corridors filled with paintings and expensive decor, you've explored every wall and found so many ways to escape. But every time you managed to escape, hurting yourself or not, Gojo found you, brought you back, locked you up. And it happened again and again and again.

You would never accept his tender but perverted love. But at the same time, you started to lose all hope. Your relatives didn't even know you were trapped. You asked your friends to turn their backs on you so they wouldn't get hurt. No one could help you because Satoru Gojo is "the strongest".

Gradually, you stopped trying to run away, to resist, just drowning in the arms of Satoru, who naively believed that you loved him in return. You might have loved him back if he hadn't kidnapped you, held you hostage, prevented you from communicating with other people, and threatened your loved ones and random strangers by telling that he would kill them if you tried to leave him.

 "We are made for each other, that's what my heart says, that's what my mind says, that's what my eyes say. So why do you want to leave me?"

 You have almost lost your identity, becoming the plaything of the caring but crazy Satoru Gojo, as fate seems to have decided to take pity on you.

On the day when the whole world lost hope, you found it.

As already mentioned, it was quite easy to escape from his home. He pretended to trust you. And even though he could always find you and teach you a lesson, he wanted to see if you really agreed to play by his rules and never, ever leave him. Once Gojo was out of this world, there was nothing to keep you in his apartment.

Grabbing the numerous jewels that the sorcerer gave you, you ran as far as you could until you felt a pain in your stomach. All the subsequent events were a blur, you wanted to cry and scream, tear your hair out on your head and thank the world that you can finally go outside, see other people's faces, breathe in fresh air, without being afraid that your loved ones will be brutally killed, and their corpses will be brought to you on the silver expensive dishes.

You were in such a hurry that you even forgot who you were asking for help. All you can remember is how you were able to start breathing again as soon as the restraints on your power were removed. You had a lot of money after selling your jewelry, and if something was missing, you could go back to Satoru`s apartment. And even if you hoped that he was robbed a hundred times, it is unlikely that all the most valuable things could be taken away at once.

After a few days of sitting at home and just enjoying the freedom, you were able to more or less leave the creepy apartment behind. You tried to erase from your memories the big bed where Gojo slept with you, hugging your body as if you were his cute little pet that can't resist. You tried to forget the big room where the walls were decorated with your photos, and the shelves were filled with things that were dear to you and suddenly disappeared for several months. You have tried to permanently erase from your mind those moments like Satoru would come home, give you a gentle hug and stretch out his cheerful voice: "I'm home, my sweet roll!"

  If only he was normal, if only he didn't kidnap you, if only he didn't say that he would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, even if you wanted to escape... it would be a perfect, rich and happy life. But that wasn't the case.

But that's all in the past. Now you are completely free and are in another city. The war of sorcerers and curses is over, you are not going to help those who were afraid of Satoru Gojo and did not even try to help you. (And even if you wouldn't cross his path yourself, some invisible anger at the entire sorcerer society still lingers deep inside you.)

You planned to leave the country soon and start a new life somewhere far, far away, perhaps even stop being a sorcerer and become someone else. You felt lonely and insecure, but there was nothing you could do about it.

You couldn't go to the sorcerers because they would never help you and so have too many problems. You couldn't go to the police because they would just get killed, which is exactly what you were trying to avoid by staying peacefully in your prison and trying not to annoy Gojo. You could not go to a psychologist, because then you will also be asked to contact the police, assuring them that you are now safe, but this will be a lie that "ordinary people" will consider true.

So you were forced to deal with everything that was happening on your own, but at least not in the four walls that you can't leave.

You walked slowly out of the store, enjoying the freedom and the streets full of people rushing to their homes. You were planning to leave Japan in the near future, you just need to make documents and fly to wherever your heart wants. While you were gradually healing, cooking your favorite food and finally logging on to social media, watching and listening to what you like, rather than dying of boredom in front of the TV and radio that Satoru deigned to give you as "entertainment" while he was away.

So you went up to your floor, enjoying the weight of the bags in your hands, because Gojo didn't let you carry anything heavy, even if you were trying to forget yourself. You entered your small, poor rented apartment and felt that you were finally at home. Kicking off your comfortable, cheap shoes, you went to change into your own clothes, not the ones that belonged to the sorcerer, and began to prepare dinner, enjoying every second of what was happening, because Satoru forbade you to pick up anything sharp, for fear that you would harm yourself.

You calmly sliced vegetables, listening to the TV on out of the corner of your ear. It looks like it was some kind of romantic movie. You continued to cook, gradually immersing yourself in the plot, until it dawned on you that the main male character kidnapped the main female character and said that she should fall in love with him in a certain period of time. You opened your eyes in horror, remembering Gojo's beautiful face, which you wanted to slash with a knife, turned around, rushed to the console... and froze, noticing a familiar tall figure on the couch.

Your kidnapper always seemed big, but that was a little overshadowed by the fact that all the furniture in his apartment was designed to match his height and build. Now, sitting on a small, faded sofa, he looked like a giant. You almost dropped the knife from your hands in shock, but you clung to it just in time, even though you knew it was a normal weapon – even if it was filled with cursed energy! – it won't help you.

You staggered backwards until you hit the kitchen cabinet. A loud sound cut the room in two, and you almost lost consciousness. Your entire body was frozen, you wouldn't be able to move even if you were attacked.

You hoped, prayed, that this was all just a dream, a nightmare, one of the ones you saw every night after you left the sorcerer's apartment. You raised your hand to pinch yourself, but your trembling fingers couldn't catch your own skin. There were tears in your eyes, and you wanted to wake up screaming right now, right at this particular moment.

But it wasn't a dream, it wasn't a nightmare. No, no, no, no...

 Gojo reached for the remote and turned off the TV. He stood up and slowly turned to you with a big smile. He didn't look as angry or enraged as you thought. He looked like the same loving young man he always was.

–Hi… my little cinnamon roll.

You still dropped the knife, and Satoru hurried over to catch it. He picked up the sharp object and tossed it aside, shaking his head. Looking at you with loving blue eyes, he chuckled and said:

–Be careful, my cupcake! The knife is very sharp. What if it had fallen on your foot? I can't let you get hurt!

He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, pinning you to the kitchen counter. Tears came to your eyes, but not from happiness. You were disgusted by the smell of him, by his movements, by his breath on your neck. Gojo laughed deeply and pressed his lips to your neck. He pulled away, looked at your tear-stained face, shook his head, and started kissing your cheeks.

–Now you don't have to be afraid, – he murmured between kisses. – I will always be with you now, I will always protect you, my darling. You must have been so shocked that you ran out of my apartment here, afraid that someone would find you and try to kill you, right?

It would have been better if you had just died outside. You would die in fear, shock, but never, ever see Satoru Gojo again.

His embrace grew stronger, and you could hear that familiar mad laugh that sometimes came out of his chest when you tried unsuccessfully to escape and got stuck right in front of the sorcerer's feet.

–You're with me now, you're with me again. You're safe again, – you felt something being put on your finger. Ring. – I know you deserve so much more, but this is the ring I prepared for you as soon as I saw you the day you arrived at school, – he pressed his nose to yours, and you saw his eyes darken with emotion. His big hands grabbed yours. You are trapped in a trap from which there is absolutely no way to get out. – Will you marry me, my only ray of light?

Your answer was unimportant. Your answer was never important to him. He just wanted you to be forever in his arms, forever touching his body, forever smiling at him and swearing that you would never leave him. You were the only person he ever wanted to see around him... even if you didn't want to. But who are you compared to the one who is called "the strongest"?

If before you were a bird sitting in a golden cage, now you are a bird that has its wings broken forever.