#angst comfort

[klausysworld]

This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.

My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.

Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.

Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.

Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!

(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)

Her protector

Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.

Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.

If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.

At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.

Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm

"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.

Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.

However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"

And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.

Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.

Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.

Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.

"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.

She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.

After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.

Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.

Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.

She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.

She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.

She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.

The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.

"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck

"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes

"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes

"I am" she stated and he hummed

"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously

"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment

"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered

"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.

But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.

"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head

"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.

"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.

She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.

But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.

Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.

Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.

It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.

He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.

Either way there was no excuse.

All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.

So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.

However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.

She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.

A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.

He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.

"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.

He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.

It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.

"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.

"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.

"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded

"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.

They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet

"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"

"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.

He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.

"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.

After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.

Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.

He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.

What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.

Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.

Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.

“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.

“I hate him” she uttered.

“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.

Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.

But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.

Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.

That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.

She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.

Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.

But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.

The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.

But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.

Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.

He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.

His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently

“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.

“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”

She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“

“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.

“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled

“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff

“You do?”

“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.

[cephei-ea]

Genshin - Argument pt2

Characters: Diluc, Ch*lde, Dainsleif

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Synopsis: You walked out after an argument and the guys are a mess

Warnings: cursing, mentions of assault, mugging, car crash and murder/kidnapping, ch*lde content, no HCs for this one sorry😔 Can be read as a stand alone but it may be confusing, refer to part one for a full experience. (Argument, genshin 2)

A/N: can you tell i rushed the fuck out of this after realizing how long it’s been since this was requested? This is not my best writing I have to admit my heat wasn’t in it for some reason and I’ve been super busy. I was hit by some old man in a sudan a few weeks ago and I only recently healed so I just finished. Enjoy

___

Diluc

Diluc ripped the blazer pulled taut around his strong torso off and discarded it haphazardly on the floor below. The material clacked together and landed with a dull thud with its weight in front of the fire. He stood, ripping his gloves off of his hands and loosening the shirt constricting his airway.

He hadn’t experienced true panic in a long time but the thought that you were most absolutely pissed off with him gave him chills that ran violently through the vertebrae of his spine. The fact that you up and left, intensified those chills. He was unsure whether you would be back tonight, next week or ever at all, but even considering entertaining the idea of you never returning to him made his blood boil beneath his veins despite his years upon long years of steeling himself and building walls up around himself. In his mind, you could do no wrong and if his dear lover had deemed it necessary to leave the house because something he said that had stung so badly, it must have been true that he deserved it.

Ripping the leather gloves from his hands, his skin crawled at the image of your back facing him. At the idea that you were somewhere he couldn’t find you and that you could have been in immense danger. At the sour, fist clenching reminder that despite the long hours of search he conducted for you, it proved inadequate, Diluc slammed his hands aggressively against the nearby ebony console stand. In one swift, yet piercingly angry motion, Diluc had belted every set of papers, folder, candle and any other item on the surface, to the floor. The crimson seeping from his hand did not cease for a moment and instead smeared against the wood of the console stand. The fire wielder dragged a hand through his unruly red hair and found that the knots building in his locks had become out of control. The hair tie used to keep his hair from his face was proving inadequate after so many hours of running and panicking.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes of trashing his office and then another 30 spent roaming the winery aimlessly in search of the strongest liquor he had and knocking down anything in his way, Diluc sat down at his couch. With his messy thoughts and scrambled heart, the building was left in total shambles.

The fire in front of him was dimming, the numbness and amnesia it’s bright light and the buzz from the alcohol he managed to dig up gave him, at once began to fade. Luckily, with his worried heart and a pounding headache, the world favored Diluc and allowed him to find sleep. Though his rest was all but pleasant, Diluc awoke a much more sane man. His irrationality from the previous night of delirium had worn off and he was ready to ask around for you. Call in as many favors as he needed.

Against his plans and his wishes, before the redhead could manage to sit up, an aggressive, dull pounding emerged beneath the skin of his forehead. He fell immediately back onto the couch, gripping his head, skin wrinkled with pain. For a moment, Ragnvindr did not attempt to so much as open his eyes again until he was sure he wouldn’t fall on his ass or vomit the second he watched the world spin. What woke him, albeit the pain all over his body and the protests his muscles screamed at him, was the sound of the doors to the winery opening.

Had he lost his mind?

Diluc must have lost his mind.

The maids and butlers wouldn’t be here for another hour or two and the building, still, was a mess. To say the least. He shot up from his seat, praying that when he turned to the door, he would find a servant that arrived early, rather than a customer.

Not only were his expectations not met, but they were far, far exceeded at the same time. Instead, Diluc found himself staring at you as you gaped at the mess burdening the building. Your jaw all but dropped, wide eyes staring at the shattered glass of a vase he swore he liked when you asked him, papers and an old telephone from an antiques store you two visited in your free time left forgotten on the floor. Everywhere. Looking up, you noted that Diluc himself, had been mirroring his panicked mind in the state of his winery. His hair was ruffled and knotted, clothes from the night prior still glued to his body.

“Diluc what the hell happened!? Did someone break in!?” You shouted, kneeling in front of a flower vase nearby and lifting it back into place. You liked that one, thankfully it was intact. A painting of you two in your 2 year long honeymoon phase was tilted on the wall. “I leave for five minutes, Diluc!! What happened to you, why are you bleeding!?” The vase as well as the painting, however, were both quickly forgotten. You instead lent your focus to your lover, crawled out of the couch and staring at you like you weren’t real. A thick white wrapping of bandages covered your abdomen, wrapped around your waist and the smallest of patches of red had seeped through the side. Where the glass shard from earlier had hit you. Dilucs mouth hung agape, he couldn’t find the words to say to you before you were kneeled before him. Using your strength to gather him in your arms and help him up. Though it didn’t require much effort on your part, Diluc could feel you picking up the pieces right in front of him. The pieces of his heart that had dropped when you left. He was quick to wrap his muscle corded arms around your neck and hold you against him.

“I’m... so sorry.” He didn’t lift his head in fear that if he did, you would be reminded of what he did, and leave him again. “Don’t go. Please, don’t.” The red head was only put at ease when he felt your secure arms hold him back. And though your hands didn’t reach far enough to touch around his back, Ragnvindr had never felt so at home and so relieved than in your warm embrace. He finally allowed a sniffle to escape him; but was sure to block you from the view of the countless tears slipping down his cheeks. “Where- where can I go without you?” This failed, however, as it was all too clear that you’d heard his quiet sobs of relief and the desperation in his voice. The last question in his mind was whether or not you would forgive him or not. Whether or not you could move on and forgive his outburst. The fit of rage that had left a small gash on your abdomen. And even if you could find it in your heart to accept his apologies, Diluc knew this night would be branded into his memory with a hot iron rod. His fingers tightened against your clothes and the knight could swear he felt his knees weaken when he saw the blood staining your side. How could he ever recover from this? From such a wicked sin? He couldn’t, for once, imagine the day he would forget hurting the single most important person to him. The idea itself was so repulsively vile that his stomach tighten with the weight of his actions. He gently pressed his hand against the wound, through the pain seeding through his own skin. “Darling, I don’t have the words.” He shied from your gaze, constantly blinking away the tears that threatened to spill again. What could he say to you? How could he know what you were thinking?

“Okay- okay, Diluc come here.” You placed a hand against his and gently pried it from your side, instead placing your lips against his knuckles when you felt the tremble beneath his skin. And the crimson dripping down his arms and outlining his veins. “It’s alright-“

“It’s not. It’s not alright.” He suddenly spat, eyes having softened upon watching as you forgave him.

“Diluc it’s okay. I wouldn’t lie to you, alright?” The knight latched onto your hand so tightly, you feared it might have fallen off, should he have let go. “It’s okay.” Small sniffles, and another sob erupted from your ever stoic lover. Finally the walls of the strongest man you knew were coming down and you were awaiting readily to gather him in your arms and accept every apology he chanted.

Ch*lde

As soon as Tartaglia’s key alights his car with its colored LEDs, the gas pedal is nearly floored. You couldn’t have gotten far, surely. Surely, you were okay with all of the snow and slush caking the concrete roads at this ungodly hour. Surely, you would have kept a level head while driving and ensured your own safe. All the same, Childe gripped the steering wheel like it was keeping him from losing his shit. That it was. His eyes, burning bright and blue searched every bus stop, every bench, every dark sidewalk where you may have stopped.

“Crash reported ahead.”

His navigation blared, pumping a newfound level of fear into the blood of his popping veins. He never imagined a few words could end with the love of his life running in search of escape from him, of all people. That it could have resulted in the possibility of losing you so suddenly. That the consequence to his mistake would have been so grand. The ginger ground his teeth to dust, pressing on the gas until he was doubling the speed limit. Still, not a gust of a wind of your presence or merely your scent, whatsoever. Nevertheless, his speed did not hinder him from checking the car parked on the side of the road, it’s hood decimated horribly by a girthy tree. The second he did not recognize the vehicle, he sped on, sighing a breath of relief he had no idea he’d held in until the moment it escaped him. Childe could not comprehend all of the terrible things that might have happened to you in this cold, icy weather. Nor did he want to. The guilt from his having said something cruel enough to make you leave crushed him under its weight alone. The ginger wanted to pull out his hair. Might something have happened to you during the time which you were meant to be under his protection, his worries would not have lied with his reputation. But in the fear that you would not return to him.

Childe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, blaring his horn at a slow car in front of his. He didn’t have time for this. No time to wait for you. No time to wait on this perfectly sane person. No time to be waiting around for you as if you’d fall into his hold once again. He could not, Childe opted, give you the time to consider leaving him because you really would this time.

“Piece of shit.” He seethed through his teeth, swerving past the small Sudan as soon as a clearing to the side of the road opened wide enough. And it astounded him above all else, really, how fast you must have been going to have avoided his sights for so long. The wind howled, the blizzard seemed to pick up significantly, ice and snowflakes blaring at his window. It took the ginger all too long, too much driving, too much fear, too much gas to finally catch sight of the car you’d taken. Seeing it, a newfound relief washed over him like a tidal wave and he floored the gas pedal again. Childe thanked the good heavens that the freeway the two of you had entered was fairly unoccupied. Between the cars and the lanes of the road came opportunity for the ginger to swerve skillfully between tanks of metal in order to finally approach yours. You were quick to make your exit not long after, however. He was glad you didn’t seem to notice his car following you but as he thought about it, Childe hadn’t thought about what he would do when he found you. At the time of his chase, he had been too panicked to decide on how he would get you back home to him.

The car you’d picked came to a stop in front of the ocean. Though you couldn’t see the moon nor the stars, the blizzard seemed to have calmed momentarily. Hopefully, you thought, long enough to dip your toes in the freezing sea water and distract your mind from the screams of the argument you hadn’t resolved.

Childe watched you exit the car slowly, hair blowing wildly in the wind and frost almost instantly forming on the soft locks of your hair. You hadn’t expected it, despite the weather, to be so difficult to move your legs. To step away from the car you two shared and in your mind, just one step farther from a solution with your lover. Walking away from that car was like walking away from him, so your lead-heavy legs worked like steam engines to push you forward with your hesitation. It did not pass the harbinger how you had removed your shoes and left them in the car, reddening your toes and making your fingers tremble from the sheer cold. His panic hadn’t dissolved, however, and Childe struggled to unbuckle himself as quickly as possible. His lithe fingers fumbled hurriedly against his buckle and the car door handle. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Fortunately for him, you stopped dead in your tracks the moment you heard his car door shut behind you. With wide eyes meeting his, you paced backwards.

How did he find you? You didn’t know. You thought you’d been sure you sped enough to escape him, even if he’d followed right after you (which you weren’t actually expecting). Just as quickly as you met his eyes, he’d sped to you so quickly you couldn’t back up. Childe looked livid, volatile and like if you said the wrong thing, he would turn red and explode. So you kept your mouth tightly shut when he picked you up and quite literally shoved you into his passenger seat. Finally sitting beside you once more, he looked to you, the windshield, down at his lap and back to you again. His hands trembled, unsure of whether to touch you, support his pounding head or slam against the wheel in frustration.

“What are you thinki-…. What were you thinking!!!???” Childe screamed at you, wiping a palm against his mouth in an attempt to calm himself. “Can you even fathom how afraid I was!? There is a Snezhnayan blizzard out here right now and you want to hit, what, 110 on the fucking highway!!?? Are you out of your mind!?” His eyes were red, a sudden change from his blue irises. “What if you crashed!!?? Huh!!?? What the fuck do I-…” he covered his mouth for a moment before continuing. “What am I supposed to do? If I can’t find you one day?” His tone was soft now, cold and shaky hands gripping the steering wheel like a vice and head resting against his forearms.

“You’re yelling at me again?” You spoke after many too moments of silence but Childe didn’t so much as lift his head. “Is this how you want it to be? Constantly screaming and cursing at each other over things that can be prevented?” You were sick of seeing merely his orange tuft of hair. How could you get him to meet your gaze? “How do you think I’ve felt for months now, Tartaglia?” The ginger immediately shook his head and for once leaned back into his seat.

“Don’t say that. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.” The harbinger was long past recognizing his mistakes. His issue now was his guilt. Because, yes, he definitely knew how you felt. Those nights coming home half breathing had flown past him. Never would he have thought that they affected you so deeply, had you not said something. And at those times when he was so very tired, so very sore and ultimately craving sleep and nothing more, screams of displeasure and fear from his lover we’re of his least concern. He imagined you felt the same way at that moment. Listening to him scream about how you could have died had the highway not been so fortunately empty was likely nothing but a passing nuisance to you now. Hearing his harbinger name form on your tongue cut deeper than any wound he’d earned in battle. That name was reserved for those he did not trust and those who did not care for nor trust him either. The only name his ears craved to hear you speak was Childe, Ajax or a pet name. Now after such a long day and so much stress and screaming and driving, Childe swore he was going to have a heart attack if you continued using that godforsaken name of his.

“Try again. Maybe an apology, Tartaglia- why don’t we start with th-” you retorted, unprepared for him to cut you off with yet another scream.

“-That’s not my name!!!” He still wouldn’t opt to meet your eyes but you could tell he craved to with how his head shook. “I’m sorry. Okay, I’m sorry.” Finally his eyes were visible and you leaned forward to put yourself in his line of sight. Hesitant but relieved you didn’t seem angry, Childe finally complied. “I didn’t know it was so important and I brushed it off because I really didn’t think much of it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, if I knew it pained you this much I never would have ignored you.” He fought a small battle in his mind. Whether to try and grab your hand and selfishly soothe his own nerves with the softness of your skin or to allow you to come to him. He placed his shaky hand open in front of you, fingers bent and aching to enclose around yours. “Please. Don’t use that name.” If it made him feel like he’d lost you, it was clear you did not care. But when you placed your hand in his scarred palm, his fingers reacted like the teeth of a Venus flytrap and ensured you could not let go of him. He’d felt so sure of himself when he thought that you were overreacting when you scolded him for returning home hardly alive. Of course while it was clear to him how dangerous his line of work was, it hadn’t occurred to him that it would pain you emotionally as much as it did him physically.

“Okay, Childe. Tell me honestly. If me driving in the snow was so scary, how would you feel if I returned home every day from now on on the brink of death and bleeding into the carpet? Just imagine it-“ You’re voice shook with each word, holding back tears of frustration at the reminder of how much you despised the night time upon catching sight of his bandages again. The harbinger shook his head furiously in an instant. Then he did again, even more aggressively this time and his nails dug into your hand. He didn’t want to imagine that. He couldn’t. You reciprocated, knowing that he could imagine the stress he’d caused you. “Childe because I can’t-“ you clasped a hand over your mouth for a second and dragged it down with the tear that slipped past your defenses. “I can’t keep seeing you like that.” Your voice was a whisper and Childe took that as his queue to stop being pathetic. After all, he was the one who cursed himself to death or a fate worse than death a mere few minutes ago. A life without you. “And I can’t… literally can’t handle it. I’m not strong enough, I’m sorry. I never imagined you felt that you’d rather die than stay with me. If you felt that way you could have said something. I’m not here to hold you down and if you- if you di… die-“ your tongue went rigid. Hiccups and small gasps of fear erupted mortifyingly from your throat. You couldn’t finish your sentence fast enough before your lover yanked you into his embrace and curled his muscle-corded arms around you.

“My god I didn’t mean that. A life without you is worse than death. A life without you is stripped of meaning. Is bland and colorless. I can’t do…” he smooshed your face into his warm chest and you muffled a sob into his chest. “Cant do without you.” He rested his cheek on your head and rubbed it snuggly into you. “Love you so much. Cant leave me okay? Okay?” He chanted with a voice so genuinely dripping with honey that you quite literally melted into his arms. Your body went limp in his hold apart from your hands gripping the back of his black t-shirt. “You’re not leaving me. You can’t.” He smiled to himself, eyes red and trained on your smaller figure smooshed like slime to his. You only hummed in response. And if that meant you would die before leaving him; and if it meant he would kill anyone before letting you leave him, you didn’t care.

“Okay.”

Dainsleif

If Dainsleif had gone insane, he wasn’t sure. But waiting for a few hours at your shared house had never felt so long. Nothing had felt so long. The blonde could brandish his achievement of living for centuries at any moment. And it was clear in his appearance, his intelligence, experience and demeanor that he’d had already seen more than he could handle. He’d experienced wars, heartbreak, torture, decades in complete solitude with no one to care for nor anyone to care for him. When you came along and lit a small wisp of a flame in his heart, it made all the difference. He found himself quickly addicted to your smile and the way your heart beated for him and him alone. You made as much clear. This warm love for you was not exempt from becoming a problem, however. Though Dainsleif would never admit it, he loved you sincerely, cripplingly and cruelly. Dainsleif found himself searching for you at his lowest, with you at his highest and when without you, paralyzed. You'd forced your nimble fingers into the cracks of his shielded heart and wedged it open, finding a way to corrupt his steeled mind to depend solely on you and your affection in order to survive. He knew then, when you'd left him in your house alone that you'd succeeded. The moment you shut the door and whispered his greatest nightmare to his face, the blonde couldn't breathe. He stumbled over himself when his legs instinctively took action to catch up to you but it was almost immediately that he failed. His boot caught on his heel and Dainsleif almost went tumbling to the wood floor.

Should he follow you? Should he wait here? Should he call you, knowing there was no chance you wanted to hear from him? He was lost when it came to you. You were the only one who could ever rule him completely disoriented. It took him a long while to realize he had been taking himself in laps around the living room. His mind raced faster than his heart. Where were you? Were you okay? What if you’d been kidnapped or mugged or assaulted or raped? He felt his blood run colder than the endless snowstorms that ruled Snezhnaya at the prospect of not being sure whether or not someone had their rancid hands on you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Any sailer would have been proud of the string of prays and curses Dainsleif muttered every few seconds. As long as you returned, he told himself. As long as you came back to him unharmed and alive, everything would be okay. That obsession he had with you had, somewhere along the way, had given Dainsleif the irresistible urge to brutally disembowel and skin alive any person who spoke to you for too long. Anyone who smiled just a little too much beside you. If he said he hadn’t hunted down at least one or two people for crossing a line with you, he’d be lying. Now, however, the only solution to his guilt ridden mind was to have you chew him out.

You, nevertheless, were too plagued at the brain with thoughts of insecurity and doubt to even think of returning home to your worried lover. Your mind drifted to his scrunched face, angry tone, and the phrase that lived only in your nightmares until that day. The nightmares you would wake from in a cold sweat, yearning for his reassurance and affections. Hoping so dearly with everything within you that you would never screw up bad enough to receive such a world ending look directed at you. Dainsleif was usually hyper aware of your doubtful mind. Sensing the moments when your insecurities surfaced in the slight stilling of your dulled eyes or the way your fingers twitched. Tonight, you realized quite vividly he hadn’t noticed a single one of those signs.

Instead, the worried man was questioning whether you were alive. Or if, instead, you’d been stolen off the streets at the ungodly hour it was. Maybe you’d been hurt. Or raped. Or murdered. What scared Dain the most, above anything in the universe that could possibly frighten him, was the unknown. More especially when it came to you. Not knowing where you were, if you were healthy or okay. Not knowing what to do in order to soothe his heart pounding through the gaps in his rib cage and attacking his chest. While his impenetrable immortality was a benefit when it came to protecting you, if you were not there to be protected, Dainsleif was the most powerless man on the planet. And he couldn’t stand the feeling of knowing that if you were screaming for his help to save you at that very moment, he wouldn’t know until later that night when the police arrived at his door with news that you’d been stolen from him for good this time. And that moment would crush him under the weight of every syllable. And his world would legitimately collapse within an instant. And his sanity would shatter like a cheap wine glass in front of his very eyes. And his life and his purpose would crumble away.

If you should have returned home, you didn’t know. What was clear to you was that you were ready to make up with him. Whether he wanted you there or not, you were unsure of as well. But you were prepared to pack your bags if he asked it of you. If what he said was true, in that extreme moment of anger, then it would be better to remain there, at the beach you walked down as you released every milliliter of terminal heartbreak in the form of every tear your eyes could manage. Avoiding the thought of him was impossible; as you’d found a long, long while ago, without being dead. Dainsleif occupied and owned every fiber of the pathetic excuse for a brain you called your own. Any waking moment was lived entirely in hopes that maybe he would praise you, give you a kiss or lend you some of his precious time. And now that your world had crumbled before you, you weren’t sure of how to react. Sure, there had been nights were your dreams turned to nightmares in which Dainsleif would leave you, abandon you or incidents like these would occur. But similar to dying in a nightmare, you’d woken up before they progressed and were left to dread every idea of an outcome. Now that those vile words had actually been directed towards you, all that preparation to feel indifferent about heartbreak over the years went out of the window. As you sat silently and pathetically alone by the water, you sobbed with fear. Fear that you weren’t sure of how to react. How to move on. How to respond to his humiliating confession. How was it possible to move past this? You’d wanted to believe so desperately that you were dreaming still, your brain finally able to fabricate some form of a story to break your heart again. Alas, you heard your lover speak it with his own lips. And ignoring the invisible fist gripping your heart painfully, you stood with shaky legs and a trembling lip. You knew what was to come.

Now, whatever you may have thought was to come, definitely had not looked anything like that. Arriving home to find your calm, collected boyfriend ripping his hair out. Like literally he ran in laps around the room, hands gripping the light of his locks and letting an unnatural amount of hair fall to the floor. You cringed at the awful state of your home. Had the house been ransacked in that short period of time you’d been gone? And was Dainsleif so disoriented that he would let an intruder tear your home apart to such a degree? Why was there a knife lodged into the flat screen tv that took you three months to save up for? With part of the carpet torn up from the floor and the biggest knife of them all gripped tightly in your lovers hand. Of course, that wasn’t the least of it. Plenty of other sharp objects had been stuck into various spots around the room, a plate or two shattered on the kitchen floor and your dining table quite literally knocked over.

You were surprised at the level of shock Dain must have been experiencing considering the fact that he didn’t so much as notice your return to the house for a few minutes. You stared in awe at the prospect of your sweet lover making a mess of the place. He’d never been one for a mess, for trouble and certainly not for any kind of chaos. Being as calm and collected as he was, it was out of character when Dainsleif whipped his head to you with wide, red eyes when your keys fell with a tension shattering clatter. It was like he’d seen a ghost with his hollowed irises. Had he truly been jumped in your absence? If he had, it wasn’t like your immortal lover was incapable of defending himself. He was more than adept at subduing any threat that crossed his path.

“Dainsleif what happened in here?” You asked in genuine concern. He could only open and close his mouth in shock, likely not having had expected you to return. And most definitely not having a word to say in response. In all honesty he, too, did not know how the apartment managed to reach such a state. More than likely, the disheveled rooms were a reflection as well as a result of the delusions he’d fabricated in the confines of his own mind. It showed in the trembling of his fingers that were gripping another knife he planned on throwing into some other expensive piece of furniture.

“You… here… why-when did you-why did you come here?” You hardly had to ponder the answer to his question. You knitted your brows together, confused beyond belief.

“What do you mean why, Dain? I live here. With you. Remember?” You scoffed, trying to imagine a reason behind his clear outburst.

“You haven’t… chosen to leave?” The five words he’d spoken out of fear in that moment told you everything you needed to know. He was afraid. He’d expressed his grief and crippling fear in the destruction of countless items in your home together. Finally— and likely for the first time that night— Dainsleif looked around him at the chaos that had ensued. It would take a burglar effort to cause as much damage in a number of hours that Dainsleif had in only one. It astounded him what he was capable of when he didn’t put his mind to it. Truthfully, he’d felt so many negative emotions for the first time that night that the memory of destroying the house was but a fleeting concern. Now with you having returned when he could have promised that you were to leave him, Dainsleif teared up.

“No! Why would I leave you, Dainsleif that is ridiculous! Did you do this shit!? What are you, five!?” It’s clear in your tone of voice that you’re not happy with him, but Dainsleif could not care less about how angry you would be with him. Even if he hugged your leg with sweaty skin and teary cheeks, at least you would interact with him. Thankfully he opted to refrain from touching you. You looked angry. Confused or overwhelmed. He couldn’t tell which. You looked so troubled that despite his desperation for you touch, he wouldn’t risk losing you.

“Are you upset with me?” He whispered, straining his wilting muscles to stand up. You weren’t mad. Not with the looks he gave you. Not with how much he loved you so preciously. You knew he hadn’t meant what he said. Dainsleif wasn’t the type and never had been. You weren’t stupid; well aware of the fact (especially with the disorder in your home as a consequence to your absence for a mere hour or two) that he had regretted what he said. The look in his eyes when your eyebrows furrowed at his question reassured you of it.

“Dainsleif I’m not mad. I just wouldn’t have taken you as the type to trash the house in a hissy fit in a matter of, what, an hour?” His face scrunched with what looked to be discomfort.

“No! Please don’t do that. Be upset with me. Hit me.” Was he angry?? Surely not. He stepped closer to you and gripped your wrist. Thrusting your hesitant hand against his chest and repeatedly slamming it against himself, he looked as though he would cry. “Yell at me.”Watching your lover as he lifted your hand once more and hit it harshly against his face broke your heart. Thud after thud, he was unrelenting. “Hit me and label me with terrible names. Hate me.” You began to bawl. Maybe your arm pulled back in protest but Dain had always been stronger. Smarter. More experienced. You couldn’t overpower him or his insatiable desire to feel you release your anger onto him. You tried. And with all your might to stop him from forcing your hand against his skin. To stop even yourself from leaving such red marks against his skin. “I’m sorry.” Now he slowed. Suddenly he loosened his grip on your hand; it hardly mattered. Your guilt ate you alive. You made him feel this way. If you’d had no heart to be upset with him for what he’d said, now you certainly had no right. You weren’t even strong enough to tell your lover to stop hurting himself. It hardly mattered whether he would retain the damage or not. Never would you lay a hand on the man you loved. Dainsleif, however, could say the same thing when it came to how tears spilled down your cheeks. He’d been the cause despite his endless promises to protect you.

“Don’t make me do that to you.” Your wrists fell from his hands. “I could never do that-“ your sniffles must have ripped courage from Dainsleif. He’d found the strength to wrap his arms around your smaller frame and crush you against him. “I could never hate you. I don’t ever want to hurt you.” Burying your face into his warm chest, you kept a mental note to speak with him. I’m the moment, your priority would be to hold him in your arms and drill the fact that he was long past forgiveness into his heart.

___

Thanks for reading

Sorry for the delay, it will be a normal occurance

[raiphoria]

Roommates | Kaveh + Alhaitham |

A tired sigh escaped a figure's lips as their owner reached out a hand, and gripped onto a very familiar door knob.

Before the object could be twisted and pushed, the figure started to hear loud yelling inside the house that they stood in front of.

"Seriously? Again?" The figure grumbled out in disappointment as they opened the door, not surprised that they had yet to grab the other figure's attention.

"Are you guys done, or are you guys going to keep fighting like an old married couple?" The figure, a male with tired (E/c) hues, had asked.

The other two figures turned towards the man in disbelief.

"We are not a couple!" They both shouted.

"Yeah, uh-huh..." The (E/c)-eyed male grumbled out before tossing a packet of mora to the taller figure.

"There's my quarter of the rent for this month. Now, I'm gonna sleep for the remaining week whether you guys like it or not," he says before passing the duo.

Both figures stood in awkward silence before remembering the tired and done look that was on their roommate's face.

With a heavy sigh, the taller figure flipped the packet open and checked out the amount of mora that sat in it.

"We went too far this time," the shorter figure mumbled as their owner brushed away their blonde locks.

Eyes narrowed upon the shorter. "You mean you did, Kaveh?" The taller asked.

Kaveh scoffed lowly at the taller. "Yeah right, Alhaitham. You were the one that went at me the second I stepped into the house!" He exclaimed in disbelief.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes at the blonde and rudely turned away.

"I'm going to go check on (Y/n), why don't you go and get dinner started?" Alhaitham grumbled as he left the room.

Kaveh gave an annoyed sound but decided to head into the kitchen seeing as it was getting quite late already.

✧˖*°࿐

"Can I come in?" Alhaitham's voice asked through a closed wooden door.

Tired (E/c) hues looked over in the direction of the door for a few moments before their owner leaned back and rolled over onto his side.

"Come in," (Y/n) retorted with a yawn escaping from his lips.

(Y/n) watched as Alhaitham entered his bedroom before looking down at his scarred hands which were also littered with very old burn marks.

Alhaitham stood at the door he opened for a few seconds before walking over to (Y/n)'s lying figure, and sat beside his feet.

(E/c) hues dimmed with tiredness swimming in them, already knowing what Alhaitham was going to be talking about.

"Why do you keep paying for Kaveh's share of the rent? You do realize that you don't need to do that," Alhaitham asked with a raised brow.

(Y/n) blinked while releasing a heavy sigh from his lips as he curled up into a ball, staring blankly up at Alhaitham's figure.

"I know I don't have to do it... but I do it anyway," (Y/n) replied.

Alhaitham frowned heavily, taking notice of how the slightly younger male was relapsing into his past.

Slowly, but casually, the male grasped onto one of (Y/n)'s hands that lay limply against the bed.

"I might not know what you've been through, but... you're no longer with them," Alhaitham started.

(Y/n) tightened his hold around Alhaitham's hand as his eyes teared up.

"You have people caring for you now. You have me and Kaveh. You have Nilou, Dehya, and Dunyarzad. The Traveler and Paimon. The Wanderer...somehow and Lesser Lord Kusanali. And even more people," the man continued.

(Y/n) mentally sweatdropped at the male who was clearly bad at comforting people, but he found it sweet that the other was trying.

Before Alhaitham could say anything else, Kaveh popped his head into (Y/n)'s bedroom.

"You're so bad at comforting people!" Kaveh laughed.

Alhaitham frowned while releasing (Y/n)'s hand as he glared at the blonde before.

"Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye on the food?" Alhaitham asked.

Kaveh's eyes widened as he quickly turned around with a loud sound of horror escaping his lips.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes as he stood up on his feet and stared down at (Y/n)'s curled-up figure.

"Remember what I said, okay? I'll call you down when dinner's done, I gotta make sure that idiot didn't burn anything," Alhaitham states before leaving the room.

(Y/n) stared at the door for a few seconds before releasing a laugh from his lips, tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Those idiots..." He whispered.

(Y/n) was glad for one thing.

He had such caring roommates even if they acted like an old married couple 24/7.

[inklessletter]

"A good heart calls another," Eddie mumbles, but no one hears it.

And he is there, physically, but he must have time travelled or something because his mind is a decade back.

Eddie is eleven, and he's scared, his bruises are fading and he has been two weeks in Hawkins with Wayne already. He doesn't trust Wayne yet, but he is starting to. Wayne hasn't forced him to go to school right away, he is letting Eddie heal and breathe before he has to face his new routine.

Wayne has bought a pull-out couch and had left the only room in the trailer for Eddie. Out of the little things he says, Wayne explicitly tells him that he wants Eddie to have his space there. Eddie knows right away that he wants to make that tin of a house a home for him.

And Eddie is scared of that, because that would be the first time.

Eddie is grateful that Wayne is not a man of many words because those first few days he doesn't really know how to feel, or what to say. But Wayne choses his words carefully, Eddie thinks.

And he is there, eleven years old, bruises fading, midnight on the clock, lying on the grass patch behind the trailer, looking at the sky, and he remembers to be counting stars. Counting things calms him. And he must have been thinking out loud because he's amazed that the more stars he counts in the sky, the more appears into sight.

He knows Wayne is nearby, sitting in his old chair, smoking, but doesn't expect him to speak.

"My ma used to tell me that stars are like good hearts. Once you start counting stars more appears, because the stars call each other. Just like good hearts. A good hearts calls another."

Eddie lets that sink in, and for the first time in forever, he feels safe in a strange land.

He remembers those words when he starts making friends at school and founding Hellfire and Corroded Coffin.

He remembers those words when he's hiding at Rick's boat house and a bunch of people that he didn't expect comes through the door just to help him.

He remembers that when he is embracing death under a foreign starless sky, alone and sad, because he would have loved to see the stars one last time.

But that was six months ago.

He remembers Wayne's words now that he's in Steve's backyard, and there is a bunch of people looking at him, smiling, some still wearing funny paper hats, some holding a birthday cake with his name on it, some holding presents for him.

He is turning 21 today, and this is for him. Just for him.

And he feels like a star.

[miakate-writes]

Hallo! I saw your touch-starved prompts, and loved them, but (prepare yourself)... What of the character hated being touched(like some sort of trauma involving others touching them)?

Thmank(not a typo) you very much!

Touch starved prompts part 2 (with a twist)

[thank you for this submission! if you have any suggestions for prompt lists or prompt lists that you would like to see, please don’t hesitate to pop into my asks box and i will get to your request asap <3]

[tw: mentions of abuse]

song to set the mood [taylor swift my beloved] ^^^

in which Character A knows that Character B was previously in an abusive relationship, A will do everything to make sure that B is comfortable. they don’t want to be touched right now? B isn’t going to push it. they do want to be touched right now? B will absolutely give them all the love and attention they deserve.

in which Character A doesn’t know that Character B was previously in an abusive relationship. it doesn’t take A long to notice that something is wrong with A, hugs and even hand-holding makes them uncomfortable. communication is key between them. they sit down and talk about it and A is completely supportive and willing to help.

“is this ok?”

“you know that i won’t hurt you, right?”

“i’m never going to let anything like that happen to you again. ever.”

for a while they just sit in each other’s company while watching tv or reading.

eventually they work up from linking pinkie fingers to full cuddles. it takes a while and is very difficult for B to get used to and know that they are safe, but A is patient with them and they are learning together.

“can i have a hug.” B asks one day. it shocks A so much that they think it’s a joke at first. once they realise that B isn’t joking they slowly wrap their arms around them, letting B adjust to the feeling.

[hope you enjoyed the prompts! if you write something inspired by anything here PLEASE tag me in it, i would LOVE to read your writing :) if you like my content PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE follow me on tiktok and instagram @/miakate.writes i would really appreciate the support 🫶🏻]

[zombiewhor3]

IT'S NOT OKAY

carl grimes x fem reader

WARNINGS: depressed reader, angst, mentions of character death (Glenn), mentions of sad Carl, mentions of bad parents, mentions of father figure Glenn, mentions of blood, gore, murder, mentions of revenge, mentions of reader skipping meals, helpful/understanding Carl.

she laid in the same position for days, it had almost been an entire week and she'd just been rotting there like a corpse, her mind in a frozen haze while the bat slamming down on Glenn's head seemed to replay like a constant loop in her head.

and well the fact that Negan had almost forced Rick to cut off her own boyfriend's arm, she could hear his mocking and his taunts as Glenn died and she could still hear the way Maggie screamed.

Her only true father figure had died, and it was shattering her, she was shattered because of it, when she saw the eye popping out of her skull she had gotten sick, she almost passed out from the shock and well the fact she was still injured and weak from a past fight.

she was only 15 and it was so damn hard for her to even think about such a gory thought but she had to understand that this was the real world surrounding her.

She thought about in the beginning when Glenn had saved her, he had rescued her after her parents had been to careless and left her, she was no older than Carl when it happened, and there he was bringing her back to the camp to feed and clothe her.

she had grown a family because of him, if it weren't for him she wouldn't be here today, she wouldn't be here sulking in this bed, and she sure as hell wouldn't be alive.

she could feel Carl place a small kiss on her cheek as a tear slipped down her face, she had started to cry once more, she could feel him place a seat on the bed so he could face her.

he frowned seeing her cry, he hated the sight, he hated watching as she held onto her stomach while she felt sick from the sight of his head being bashed in by that bastard.

"shh it's okay" he tried to comfort her but what was the use? would it fix the fact that they were stuck under The Saviours choke hold while two of their friends were dead and they couldn't get revenge.

she flipped around to the other side to face away from him with a soft breath she let out another sniffle letting her tears fall into the white pillow case, "talk to me please you haven't spoken in days not even a hi or a response when i speak to you" he rubbed her back feeling as her tense body seemed to loosen up for him at the touch.

he had been struggling to, he had missed Glenn so much it was like a piece of his heart was missing and well he had so much rage inside him that it was starting to pull him in so many directions.

he felt like soon he was going to be torn in half from the sadness and the anger tugging at both ends of him, he wanted revenge on all of the men, he wanted to kill Negan himself for killing such innocent people because in true reality they didn't deserve any of it.

Once carl realized she was going to stay silent he got up from the bed, reaching into a bag he pulled a fresh pair of clothes out for her along with a rubber band resting amongst his wrist.

"c'mere" he spoke softly lifting up the still bloody shirt from her body. she had been sitting right next to Glenn when it happened which meant she had his blood laced all over her white shirt, now it was dried and brown but it was still his blood.

he pulled it from her body and tossed it to the floor while he put a new one on her, he helped her to wiggle out of the bloody jeans, there were dried blood patches in the knees from her digging them into the gravel to prevent a gut wrenching scream from her.

he pulled them off and slipped on a new pair of jeans on her slightly closing his eyes to give her some privacy, she sat up on the bed with his help, he knew she hadn't eaten for almost a full week.

she stared at the wall blankly before following Carl into the kitchen, he placed a green apple in her hand and a bottle of water on the marble counter in-front of her.

she hesitantly went to take a bite from the apple but a hand covered her mouth, it was like everything she looked at seemed to make her sick, she closed her eyes before taking a bite feeling the sweetness hit over her tongue as she chewed and swallowed the bit.

he was proud of her that she was slowly eating, and once she knew it she was down to the core of the apple and the water bottle that was once full in-front of her was left empty.

she wrapped her arms around Carl as she could feel more tears bittering up inside her again, "it's okay you did good, we have to try, we both miss him i know" he admitted feeling her only cry harder at the slight implication of him.

"we'll get through this together i promise"

[voonroo]

Rough Late Nights

OBEY ME NIGHTBRINGER SPOILERS

Late nights in Cocytus Hall are quiet. There's this... nagging feeling that there should be more noise, like something is missing and you can't place it. You're still not used to not knowing who you are.

The stillness of the large building is eating you from the inside out. There should be some noise, maybe some light footsteps or a faucet running in the next room over. Anything would be better than silence.

Without complete awareness, you get up out of bed. It's not like you were going to get any sleep anyway. It's been like that since you arrived a few nights ago. 'Sleep is for the weak.' That phrase sticks out to you in your sleep-deprived thoughts. Where do you remember hearing that? You think as you quietly twist your doorknob, the old door squeaking with age.

Your feet make faint 'thumps' as you tiptoe through the halls. You don't know where you're going. Anywhere but your newly acquainted silently deafening room would be a great start.

It's dark outside. Looking out the window, you can see various paths barely lit with dim lights, shining just far enough from one to the next in order to not leave the routes in the dark. Cocytus Hall is also dimly lit inside as well. Oil lamps fixated along the walls illuminate only one side of the main hallway instead of the usual two during "day" hours. Or as day as you can get with a dark sky.

Surprisingly, the dark atmosphere that cloaks the underworld brings you more comfort rather than unease. There's that same familiar feeling that overshadows the unknowing of your own life. The possible memories and traumas that you now know nothing about. The relationships with the people you once knew. You don't even know who your parents are. Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, you hear something.

The sound is muffled, indistinct, but there.

Oh. How could you forget that you currently live with someone who claims to know who you are? Who has all the answers you so desperately want to be answered?

"Oh, hello," Solomon looks up from the book in his palms. He's sat in one of the aged library chairs, legs crossed and a pair of reading glasses adorning his face. The lamp on the small side table works well, decorating the room with a gentle, glowing brilliance. The sensation of familiarity hits you again as you see the sorcerer before you.

You barely hear your name leaving his mouth. "Are... you alright?" Solomon's voice was just background noise as your emotions started overwhelming you. Your breathing quickened, and soon came the slight shake of your body, then the tears. It felt wrong to overcome the peaceful aura of the hushed night with wails, so your tears silently left your eyes, streaming quickly down your face as you gave way to what had been affecting you for as long as you could remember.

Next, you felt yourself being brought into a warm embrace. Solomon's arms wrapping around you. Your head was gently pushed into his neck as he cradled your shaking frame. One of his hands rested on the back of your head as the other stroked your back in a calming manner.

If he was saying anything, you couldn't hear him. You were two clouded with your own overwhelming, suffocatingly strong emotions.

~

Word Count: 564

Inbox open

[xohachi]

illuminate

| sherlock holmes x u |

word count: 966

u have a date tonight! ur actually on the date for the first half of the story and sherlock’s brooding about it so badly that he can’t sleep :( BUT u come back sad 😧 so he comforts u ☺️. {angst/comfort/cute ending} {this is for the girls w no dad.}

(LOOK AT HIS PUPPY DOG EYES I WANNA CRYYYYYY) (i hate writing stories in my notes app but I watched American beauty last night and that “you could never be ordinary,” scene literally ate me so i just haddd to write something based off it. so enjoy this blurb i wrote first thing in the morning at a sleepover)

The mundane tick of the clock nearly lulled Sherlock to sleep. He persevered through the heavy bricks on his eyelids, pacing the room thinking of you. The time now was 12:34am. You’d left for a date at around 8, you never went on dates. Sherlock preferred it that way, maybe then he’d get some sleep. He thought of you, the image of you in your little black dress and red heels… the way you styled your hair and left a few dangling curls to frame your already perfect face. The stubborn detective would never say it but it enraged him to see you dressed up like this for another man.

…

“How do I look?” You asked sheepishly. He watched your eyes meet his, inhaling the presence of your soul snaking its way into the void where his was supposed to be. Somehow during the time that the two of you had roomed together at 221B Baker St, Sherlock had fallen in love with you and he hated the fact that he didn’t hate it.

“You’re leaving?” His tone was low, monotonous.

“Yeah silly, I happen to have a date tonight.” You gave him a spin. His eyes locked onto the slit in your already short dress and how it hiked up even higher when you moved. A scowl snuck onto his face as he thought about you dancing with lesser men at sub par bars, the way they’d probably slide a hand down your back, itching for an invitation to taint you with their touch.

…

‘A date,’ He muttered to himself. A cigarette sat between his lips. Sherlock leaned onto the fireplace and pulled his head back as he exhaled. Finally, your footsteps echoed up the stairs. He put out his cigarette and scrambled to find a place in his chair. Quickly picking up his violin, fumbling with the tuning to look busy. You’d left the house wearing heels yet your footsteps showed no indication of heels on your feet. You’d probably taken them off after too much dancing & the thought brought a red jealous haze back into his mind but he decided to let it go. Your dark silhouette emerged from the shadows. Something was wrong. He quickly scanned you with his eyes. Messy hair, your left dress strap sliding down your shoulder, your hand on your right shoulder seemingly massaging a bothering ache, perhaps from carrying your purse. Turning around, a yelp emerged from your throat.

“Sorry,” You choked out, trying to mask your sobs, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” You glanced down at the violin in his hands, yet his attention was solely on you. Sherlock’s eyebrow was cocked as he continued to silently read your tells. Shaky voice, running mascara, you’d been crying. Your arms were hugging your body, you’d been hurt. He stood up cautiously.

“He hurt you…” Sherlock concluded aloud, inching closer. His hands were somewhat extended towards you as if he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

“No, Sherlock he didn’t, I’m alright.” You closed the space between the two of you. The sudden feeling of your small hands on his chest electrified him yet also diminished a fraction of his anger. Physically sure, you seemed to be okay. Sherlock realized that you were hugging your body to console deep emotional pain. Physical or emotional didn’t matter to him though, all that mattered was that you were in pain.

“You’re crying. He made you cry, I’ll murder him.” His rough calloused hands cupped either side of your face, his words venomous with intent. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation but Sherlock had never allowed himself to touch you like this. The most touch you shared was when he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder during long train rides, even then he felt like he was playing with fire.

“He was good to me, I promise,” a small silence, “I did this to myself, with my own insecurities.”

“Am I… ordinary, Sherlock?”

The streetlights trickled through the curtains, illuminating the silhouette of you both holding back from indulging in your deepest desires. The image of you, gazing up at the cold detective with wide teary eyes, clinging to his word like he’s god reciting the bible directly to you. Him, his hands on either sides of your face, soothing you with his words, “You could never be ordinary, not even if you tried.”

Although your crying had ceased, his words broke the dam behind your y/e/c eyes. Your head fell into his chest and the sudden intimacy caused Sherlock tense up. He could feel you needing him, begging him to hold you just this once, to tell you that everything will be okay…and that he loves you so. He opened his mouth to protest the hug, only to be cut off by a small, “Please, just this once,” whispered into his chest.

Frozen in time, the gears in his brain began to short circuit. He was a sociopath, how could he feel like this? The two of you were never even meant to get this close. He could feel his defenses crumble. Every alarm inside his mind palace blaring. Emergency! Emergency! The void where his soul should lie was no longer empty. You’d fought your way past his defenses, seemingly effortlessly. He lived and breathed you. He burned for you, and only you. Your soul igniting him, Sherlock finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around your small figure tightly. His chin resting atop your head. He wouldn’t admit any of this aloud. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t say anything at all. This was enough for now, he’d just be here, with you, for you, in the moment.

[i-starcreamed]

could i have some angsty/comfort-ish headcanons about a gn reader who doesn’t feel like they deserve praise or affection, and tfp ratchet, knockout + breakdown (poly, if that’s okay), and starscream comforting them?

[ human!reader post includes: TFP Ratchet, Knockout+Breakdown, and Starscream

hii thanks for the request. this might be OOC and a little...idk, I'm not that good with emotions so I generally went with some things that might fit them, hopefully

TFP Ratchet

He's not a bot that's usually too affectionate, so when you express the way you're feeling he may think it's because of him. Very much in disbelief though, how can you feel unworthy of something you very much deserve?

Either way, he understands you need support when you have those moments of self-doubt

Really encourages you to talk about it if you want to, despite his gruff attitude on the exterior, with you, he patiently listens and tries to help you see your strengths and accomplishments

I mean come on, you're unlike anyone he's ever met and his favorite human + his significant other!!

Will pause anything he was doing to spend more time with you and give you the support you need. Preferably holding you near his chest, close to his spark or near his face. Generally lets you just curl up next to him

His reassuring isn't super lovey dovey but it's genuine

TFP Knockout + Breakdown

You get showered in compliments as soon as you're feeling down

Knockout is more direct and might scoff, don't be silly darling?? You're wonderful and both Breakdown and I love you,,

Breakdown agrees and gently picks you up to emphasize their point. He says you're stuck with the both of them and he wouldn't have it any other way

I feel like both of their love languages are pretty much physical affection, whether it's smothering you in robot hugs or simply vibing with you on their shoulder. To hear that you think you don't deserve it, they're in disbelief

Knockout is the busier one, constantly repairing bots in the medbay and such. Breakdown gets sent on missions too, however, they both make time out of their day to spend it with you. Not that they didn't, but they pay extra attention to their actions and make sure you're happy and secure. Insists that they'll do this for you ANYTIME!!

if someone on the Nemesis is making you feel this way, Knockout will make sure they don't wake up from their next appointment will keep you a safe distance away from them with the help of Breakdown

TFP Starscream

Not the most empathetic but he definitely gets how you feel. He probably feels the same way tbh. These are the few times where he actually acts sincere, or at least as much as he can

If you bring it up to him, he'll stay quiet and listen. Honestly, he understands how vulnerable this moment can be and will keep his comments to himself

Insists how you've not only earned his respect, but he's literally in love with you and that means so much already (he actually thinks you're great, brave and so kind to him...pls he thinks does not deserve you)

"You.. deserve all the affection I give you. And I'll make sure you get it, whether you think you deserve it or not." (he does that little awkward smile he did with knockout in that one episode idk)

Certainly isn't the most...graceful with his words but can occasionally say something genuinely sweet ^

Depending on how long you've been together, his physical affection may seem a little awkward or either very intimate. He's either barely figuring out how to hold you close or holds you up to his faceplates, servos carefully shielding you from falling somehow.

Personally he knows these things take time to get over so he reminds you that you're loved and appreciated..in his own ways

Also if these emotions/thoughts stem from someone else's faults...the revenge has already been plotted and is currently in progress

[icekingofhope]

I felt angsty and fluffy today so

here is the ink demon and bendy

your welcome-

[klausysworld]

Can u write something about the reader complaining about how klaus never talks to her about his issues so one day he ends up opening up to her about mikael and stuff when he was a kid and the reader comforts him?

What does it mean to be a man?

Klaus stormed straight up the stairs when we got home.

He, Elijah and Rebekah had just faced Mikael, their father.

Hayley and I had been with the wolves and with Hope to make sure Mikael couldn’t get to her.

We all returned to the abattoir when we got the call that it was safe and the silence that over took the home was heavy.

Hayley took Hope up to bed, Rebekah went off to find Marcel and Elijah took a seat with a glass of scotch. I debated going straight after Klaus but decided he needed a moment.

So I sat opposite Elijah and began to think.

“Elijah? May I ask you something?” I questioned quietly and he looked up to me in response

“What did Mikael…do to him?” I asked lowering my voice “I know that he was a bad man but I mean, was it verbal or physical or…” I trailed and Elijah stood up

“Physical mostly, you would have to ask Niklaus, I don’t think he would want you to hear it from anyone other than him. It’s a very emotional topic for him and well…he doesn’t exactly handle those well” he concluded and I nodded

“Do you think he would be upset with my asking?”

“He trusts you, more than he trusts most. Perhaps he won’t share it all but some is better than none” he replied

“Thank you Elijah” I whispered with a weak smile before heading to the stairs.

I went into our room but Klaus wasn’t in there. I frowned and sat on our bed, I listened for a moment before hearing a sniffling coming from the bathroom door. I stood slowly and cautiously made my way over, careful to not made sound to hear. He was whispering inaudibly to himself and clearing his throat.

I gave a light knock to the door before twisting the handle and opening it. He turned his head to me, his eyes were red and lashes wet but I didn’t mention it. He was only in his boxers for bed and his skin was clean from any blood.

“You okay?” I asked gently and he nodded before walking toward me. A kiss was pressed to my forehead, his hand found mine and he pulled me over to our bed.

“How was it with Hope in the bayou?” He questioned, his throat was croakier than normal and he tried to clear his throat again to get rid of it but it didn’t seem to work.

“It was okay, it’s muddy out there even in the summer but Hope had fun with the other kids” I told him while he pulled my shirt and shorts off so I was only in my underwear. “Did everything go smoothly with your- with Mikael? You took a little longer than we thought” I asked nervously. His eyes darted away from mine as his jaw clenched and he leaned forward to grab his top that I had worn to bed last night.

“It was…not great” he replied shortly.

He pulled the top over my head and I pushed my arms through the sleeves. He glanced to my eyes before shifted under the covers and opening his arm for me to slot beside him.

I moved down and into his hold, wrapping an arm around his torso and kissing his shoulder “what happened?” I asked and he sighed

“He was just going on about nothing” he muttered

“Well like what?” I pressed but I could feel his body shuffling uncomfortably as his tongue wetted his lips

“It doesn’t really matter now” he mumbled, “it’s been and done, no need to cry over spilt milk”

“I think this is a little more than spilt milk Klaus” I whispered

“It’s in the past” he muttered “it doesn’t mean anything now”

“Then why are you holding me like I’m going to disappear?” I asked while now being held tight against him, his arms were strong around me and his heart was going faster.

He didn’t respond and I sighed, I kissed his neck softly and felt his face against my hair

“It’s okay to cry sometimes” I whispered

“I don’t need to cry” he mumbled quietly

“Yes you do, everyone does” I murmur “and that’s okay, you don’t have anything to prove”

He remained silent again. I began to trace patterns onto his back and waited a moment as I heard him swallow thickly and sniff lightly

“You will always be more of a man than he ever was” I whispered and he tensed somewhat

“He was always seen as a strong man” he murmured quietly, “in our village, when we were humans, he was seen as higher up”

I hummed in acknowledgment, not wanted to ask too many questions yet.

“He was good with a sword…and with an arrow, he was an excellent hunter.” He continued “he just…he wasn’t an excellent father”

“Was he cruel to all of you?” I asked and he paused a moment

“Yes…Rebekah not as much, it was very frowned upon to lay a hand on a girl even then. The village was small, he wouldn’t risk that kind of chat going around. Besides I don’t think any of us would have let him touch her” he explained

“But you, Kol, Elijah and Finn?”

“Finn was their angel, both my mother and father. Kol was smart, which is a stupid sentence but he knew how far he could push things. He knew how to get away with things. His was more verbal” he muttered, he paused more a moment and pulled me closer “Elijah was one of mother’s favourites, she adored him and tried to reason with Mikael to leave him be. He mainly only got hit if he defended me”

“Why you?” I asked confused “he didn’t even know you weren’t his until later?”

“I don’t…I don’t know” he whispered, his voice growing quieter “he just…despised me”

We remained silent for several more minutes, my fingers played with the baby hairs at the top of his neck while his face nuzzled my hair.

“I’m gonna turn the light off so we can go to sleep okay?” I whispered as I pulled away from his embrace. I leaned behind me and flicked the lamp off before turning back to him. His eyes were concentrated on pillow beside him in a daze. I laid back down and faced opposite him, my hand brushed over his hair gently while I listened to him sigh out and his lashes flutter. “I love you Niklaus” I whispered to him, his gaze was on mine in an instant with water building up over his eyes to have a glossy affect. I smiled sadly at him as his jaw clenched to keep his tears at bay. My hand held the side of his face and my thumb wiped the stray tear that ran down the side of his nose.

“I love you more” he uttered as a few more tears escaped his eyes and he curled forward so his face was facing down. His hands tugged the duvet to hide the majority of his face.

I ducked under the covers with him and moved closer, I pressed my lips to his forehead before pulling his face to rest against the top of my chest. He let out a hot breath of air before releasing a quiet sob, my eyes closed as I stroked through his curls. “He can’t hurt you anymore” I told him quietly

“He hurts me every day” he cried “I’m just like him sometimes” he choked “I hurt people”

“Not like he did, you are nothing like him. Not ever.” I disagreed while shaking my head “look at how you are with Hope, you would never, never harm her” I reminded “you protect her because you love her unconditionally”

“Why couldn’t he love me like that?” He sobbed and my heart squeezed in pain

“Because he should never have been a father. There are certain people in the world who are just cruel and should not be blessed with souls like yours in their lives”

His head shook as he clutched onto the shirt I wore. “I’m sorry” he whispered

“For what?” I asked confused

“For pushing you away” he mumbled “I didn’t mean to make it so hard to love me”

“None of that matters to me” I promised him “I knew that you struggled, I knew what I was doing. And everything is okay now isn’t it?”

“I would never hurt you” he whispered

“I know that” I reassured “did…did Mikael hurt your mother too?” I asked timidly

“No…I think maybe he manipulated her but he didn’t touch her”

“Did she hurt you? Apart from the curse?” I questioned unsure

“She…she weakened me and damaged my self worth. She stood by my father when he abused me and said nothing. I will never forgive her for leaving me to suffer at his hands, she knew what he did to me”

“What did he do to you?” I asked gently “if you don’t mind my asking” I added quickly

“He humiliated me. All of the time, he made sure I was seen as weak and insignificant to everyone that knew of our family. And then he would beat me if I ever suggested I was more than a rug for him to wipe his feet on.” His frown had deepened, his tone sounding a little angrier rather than sad at the memories “I was never good at anything, I squished berries to make art instead of hunting. I was a less than a man in his eyes, and I still am despite all I have accomplished. I am stronger than he is and yet he still sees me as worthless” he continued, my hand stroked his face as he spoke to calm his swarm of emotions.

“You know that he’s wrong though, right?” I checked quietly and he remained silent

“You are strong, yes, but being vulnerable sometimes doesn’t make you any less a man” I told him firmly “do you remember what you said that one time? That you are the thing lesser men fear?” I asked and he breathed out a laugh and nodded “well I believe that still stands to be true” I murmured and kissed his cheek “you are much more than any other, you always have been. Do not doubt that” I told him “Do not ever doubt yourself again because of one pathetic excuse of a person.”

[idiot-mushroom]

Have some angst in these trying times :)

but in all seriousness I get where 2012 splinter is coming from, i mean he’s a great father, he really is. He tries to protect them and make sure they’re prepared for anything, which results in him trying to be a teacher first and dad second. He tries to push them into being better than before, and the more he fears for them the more he pushes, and we see it in the series multiple times.

my boys and their father need a break.

[depressedsandwhich45]

Hey could you maybe do one with a abused fem reader? I know it might be intense. Sorry if it's too much to ask. can it also be Ghost and they finally open up about it to him when they are about to kiss or something?

(Sure.)

This is very intense. If this triggers you, please click off.

Triggers: Mentions of SA, A lot of angst, flashbacks to a SA encounter. And some fluff. Mentions of smut.

~Y\N's POV

Three years ago...

She hated it. She hated the feeling. It was hot and tense and she wanted it to be done. The drugs were laying on the car seat as the liquor spilled over her bare legs. She felt horrible. Her stomach flipped into her throat. She felt gross and disgusting. She had to do this though. She needed it. She needed the money. They had forced her into this. She didn't want him. Y\N felt his lips on her mouth. His tongue in-between her teeth.

"Do you love me, Y\N?" He asked.

"Yes."

She was a liar.

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

She woke up in cold sweat. The sounds of military troops outside. Y\N rubbed sleep out of her eyes and sighed. Another nightmare. She got out of bed and stared at herself in the mirror. Her shoulders were bare and her face was covered in sweat. She brushed the sweat off and pulled her uniform on. She pulled the cargo shorts on over her undergarments and opened the door to her barracks. Soap was waiting there.

"Good morning, Y\N!" He said cheerfully.

She waved a hand in response.

"Are we training again...?" She asked.

"Thought we'd just take a walk around the base, first."

She nodded. Rubbing her hand up her arm. Feeling the goosebumps again.

"Are you alright, Y\N? You seem tense."

"I'm fine... Just a little tired."

This was something you said often. A small brush off. But the nightmares from those days still rang clean and bright in your brain. Every night it was a struggle to keep asleep. she had never had a doctor check on it. She didn't think she needed it. She'd joined the 141 to get away from her hometown. Away from those painful memories that just never went away. No matter how much she wished they would.

That was when she had met Ghost. However she had never opened up to him about it. Not even when you two had started dating. She hadn't even kissed him yet or gone further then holding hands. She didn't feel like she could do that without remembering HIM. Y\N rubbed the back of her neck and looked at Soap.

"Where's LT?" You asked.

"Oh he's in his office,"

She nodded.

"Okay."

"Come on! I'll meet you on the field!" Soap smacked her shoulder playfully and ran down the hall.

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

Y\N was almost out of breath as she stopped running and leaned over to take a drink of water. She covered her eyes to block out the heat of the sun. She saw Ghost coming toward her.

"Your training is over, come on," He offered her a hand and she took it.

"Yes, Sir." She smiled.

They walked back to Ghost's barracks.

________________________

She was sitting on his lap. His arms wound around her waist and her arms on his chest. As if holding him back. He kissed her face with his mask lifted only the tiniest bit. She felt the prick of painful memories coming back and as he was about to kiss her she pushed him back. Ghost was surprised. Was something wrong? Y\N felt horrible for pushing him away. But every time he kissed her it reminded her of that night and the pain she felt.

"Y\N?" He asked, softly.

She looked at him. Tears welling up in her (E\C) eyes.

"Oh, Y\N... What's wrong?" He removed his hands from her waist. Instead taking her hands in his and squeezing them gently.

"We need to talk, Ghost." She said.

_______________________

The talk had felt like hours. Explaining to Ghost everything she'd been through. The drunk one-night stands. The drugs. Everything. She had hated the way it felt when she was there. The only thing that had kept her doing it for three years had been the money and the drugs. But the pain had outweighed the gain.

Ghost looked at her. Smoothing back Y\N's hair off her forehead. He smiled softly. His eyes full of nothing but empathy.

"You're safe now, nobody will ever hurt you again. I promise. I'll be here to shoot those bastards in the jaw." He joked.

You laid your head in his lap and looked up at him.

"Thank you."

[prettyboysposts]

drunk kaveh ~ (angst/comfort)

i imagine it is a frequent occurrence that when Alhaitham tags along with Kaveh to the tavern to keep an eye on him, drunk kaveh loses all object permeance.

Alhaitham goes to use the restroom, and Kaveh goes to get more drinks at the bar. By this time Kaveh is fairly intoxicated, and once he’s returned to their booth, he gets that sinking feeling in this gut. And poor Kaveh, his head fuzzy and swirling, can’t seem to understand where this is coming from. He drinks more trying to wash away this horrible feeling, but it keeps deepening, and now he’s feeling very alone. Where had Haitham gone? Why was he alone? Why did he leave? God he misses him, and his heart twinges with ache. Why was he always left alone? Kaveh starts losing sense of his surroundings, laying his head on the table. He can’t help the tears that stream from his eyes onto the wood. He hates this feeling. This deep ache that consumes him and tears him apart. Why did he have to be alone. Properly sobbing now, Kaveh’s world is confined to only his brain, the alcohol twisting his perception of what is around him. That cloud is broken when he feels a cold hand on his shoulder.

“Kaveh, are you alright? What happened?”

Haitham had returned, seating himself next to Kaveh in the booth, concern heavy in his voice. He’d only been gone a few minutes and his boyfriend was now a teary red mess.

“Hey hey hey, it’s ok I’m here. Hey, Kaveh, It’s me. Look at me.” Haitham took Kaveh’s face in his hands, helping him sit up. Those carmine eyes stared at him glossy and so weary, Haitham’s chest hurt to see him this way. Kaveh wasn’t saying anything, but his tears had subsided.

“Kaveh, let’s go home ok? I think that’s enough for tonight.” His boyfriend only nodded and sank into his shoulder, his tears soaking through his shirt. Alhaitham, after trying to maneuver Kaveh out of the booth with difficulty, decided it would just be best to carry him home.

Face still pressed to his shoulder, Kaveh had his arms draped around Haitham’s neck, legs wrapped loosely around his torso.

“Kaveh, love, what happened?” the blond’s breathing had settled a bit, and his tension began to ease in Alhaitham’s hold.

“Thought.. you left me again Hayi..” his response mumbled by fabric.

“Hey” he said softly. His boyfriend turned to look at him this time. “I am never leaving you. Not again, ok?” Haitham pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, tucking a blond strand behind his ear.

“ok” he replied, almost a whisper, gripping the scribe a little tighter.

[loving-mista]

Hello! I hope you're having an amazing day💕 could I request either Buddha or Shiva from Record of Ragnarok with a S/O that is afraid that they're not good enough for them and that they can find better? 💕 thank you sm sm, and remember to stay hydrated! 💕✨️

Hihi! Ofc I can ♡♡ I'll do these separately because I don't quite have an idea for shiva yet. :( but expect it soon!

Buddha with a insecure s/o who thinks he can do better than them

Buddha was a perfect boyfriend to you, he was sweet caring, and he is ready to drop his duties as a God for you.

But with a boyfriend of such a status comes talk, and it's not always good. From townsfolk whispering insults and gossip about you to receiving disgusted looks from high ranked people queens,kings,princesses, you name it they've all said such horrendous things about you.

Some insulting your habits others your looks. Some would go as far as to saying he didn't love you and your just a mere human a God uses for plesure

All of these things were far from the truth. You knew that yet that didn't stop you from taking those insults to heart

You are only human after all and it seems most forgot that in their fit of jealousy

The next time Buddha went to see you, he was worried. You looked so gloomy your usually bright smile was now replaced by a frown

The few times you did plaster a smile on your face he could instantly tell it was fake he couldn't help but wonder why you were acting in such a way

"Hey my dear is something wrong?"

It was at that point where you realized there was no point in hiding it from him but you couldn't find the words you needed to say before choking up the tears you had been struggling to hold in finally pouring out

He immediately hugged you tightly, pulling you onto his lap wiping your tears away

You explained everything to him, the rude comments the disgusted looks you get and the way they treat you overall

"You can do better, I don't get why you choose to stay with me." You manage to speak out, your voice breaking ever so slightly

Yet he still noticed it and it hurt him. He couldn't help but frown

He was upset how could he not notice what you were going through because of him

He held you in his arms your head against his chest he placed a soft kiss on your forehead

"Listen my dear, whatever they tell you isn't true at all. I love you so much and there's no person God or anything I would rather be with. Dont cry your perfect and don't let anyone tell you otherwise"

[yuu-loves-you]

Is it really rape?(part 1 of ??)

TW: Sexual abuse, possibly discussed in detail later on. Same goes for physical and mental abuse. Victim blaming, and substance(cigarette) abuse, SH

Summary: with the assistance of your grandparents and Nekomata, you had moved into their house at the very beginning of the school year. Having just come to a normal home from your traumatic life with your father, things can be pretty overwhelming. Especially when you can’t afford therapy. You’re Nekoma’s team manager, and you’ll do anything to make sure the boys succeed. After all, they made you happier than you’d ever been before

“well, is it really rape if you just sit there and allow it to happen?” You knew a counselor wasn’t supposed to say this. You knew how wrong it was. How you’d never tell anyone this. If someone told you their counselor said this you’d flip out. You’d tell them how the counselor is wrong. Though, now when the situation is happening to you, you have no will to argue against this question. More so, a statement than a question. Nonetheless you can’t say a damn thing. Your mouth feels unbearably dry as you shakily pull yourself to your feet and begin to grab your items. You can feel her eyes burning into the back of your head as you take your backpack and leave the room. She doesn’t try to stop you. Upon exiting, you could truly feel how your legs felt like jelly and how wet your face was. You take some deep breaths and rub your eyes. You only made yourself a little bit better, you’d realized. It feels like you haven’t learnt or earned a damn thing. The relief of having already told your coach and team you wouldn’t be at afternoon practice washes over you. Now, you can simply walk home. You don’t have to face them and show your ugliest look that is stained in tears. As you head to your shoe locker, a feeling of guilt passees over you. You had lied about your reason for not being at practice. ‘A doctor's appointment’ you'd told them. The reality was you had to finally talk to someone about the numerous traumas you’ve endured before you cracked for good. You regretted going. You could almost describe the emotion you felt from the ‘therapy session’ as humiliation but you knew in reality it was much more complex. After putting your shoes on you took the slow route back to your home. You wish you could go to the boys practice but you knew you wouldn’t be able to focus so you’d rather go home than be a burden to them. As you reached the front door you pulled your key ring from your bag and unlocked it. You enter and could smell the red sauce being cooked and your grandmother's indescribably pretty perfume. “I’m home, grandma!” You said. “Oh! Welcome home baby!” Your grandma approached for a hug as you put your things down. You hugged her close. She gave you a concerned look at your appearance that turned into what was best described as pity. “Oh baby… was today hard? I’m sorry.. if only I could afford you some proper help…” You smiled softly at your grandma. “It’s fine. Don’t worry grandma. One rough day won’t tear me down.” You couldn’t help but internally cringe at your own blatant lie. You could tell tonight would be rough. “Why don’t you go say hi to grandpa? He’s lying upstairs. I’ll call you down when dinner is ready…” you nod with a smile and head up the stairs. Peeking into your grandparents bedroom, you see he is asleep and decide not to disturb him as you head to your room. Despite the fact you’d been living with your grandparents for a year now, each day it still felt weird to come home to such a calm environment. It was a stark contrast to the life you endured when living with your father. This feeling was especially prevalent as you went into your room and saw how nice of a bed you had and in general the amount of items you had in your possession. You leaned your back on the door and slid down until your butt hit the floor.