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shoezuki · 4 years

Text

piglin techno confusing the fuck out of ranboo hcs

i jus be doin some shit sometimes n then my brain is like ‘hey think a this’ and i been tryin to type this out but my internet is so bad rn i couldnt even Open a new post what the fuck. anywayss. this ran so long. so fucking long

started with ‘i wonder how piglins act’ and now technoblade is doin some shit, ranboo is so confused, and philza is a delighted bystander who is having the time of his life

technoblade is 100% piglin. many people think he’s part human to some degree but hes Completely and Utterly piglin

most assume as much since he doesnt begin to rot in the overworld. but short answer; he’s Built Different

long answer is a blessing of the bloodgod but shhhhhh

techno never corrects anyone or talks about being piglin or Anything. he just doesnt care what other people think and assume. the only one who Knows is phil

phil had first thought it was out of some sort of shame or desire to Hide it but. yeah. no. techno jus doesnt care. build; different

although more Notable piglin traits come to like if he’s close to people

piglins are both social and anti social. kinda. they can be hugely independent, do well without ‘proper’ socialization for a Long while. but they group together for Lifetimes. once piglins find a family or friends and expend Full trust to them. its all or nothing you Cant break them up

how tommy betrayed and turned his back on techno just. its like a physical pain. once he trusted and respected him, the mere Idea of betrayal was nowhere in question. it never occurred to him

philza is now the only person that techno consciously and subconsciously considers him a part of his ‘pack’ (i cant figure out a better term but that one doesnt Fit)

techno never realizes when he acts piglin traits out towards those he trusts. he never does so in company outside of what he considers family. philza notices though.

phil tends to study and research other races and cultures a lot. he’s been around a long while, has met many people of all different backgrounds. he likes knowing and understanding what he can. its just fun too.

it mostly started when he first met techno because he wanted to figure out what the FUCK techno was doing without asking and therefore embarrassing him

but phil knows techno well. and he knows piglins well enough. and he Knows techno doesnt ever seem to be self aware of his more inhuman habits

but Phil knows. and he Notices when techno starts to consider ranboo a part of the pack

First, it’s gifts.

surprisingly, its ranboo giving techno the axe first

he wasnt there to see it. but phil might as well have been present, considering how Horrifically in depth techno ‘ranted’ to him bout it

but techno reciprocates it and Then he really starts to notice more and more

first, it was giving the enchanted apple to ranboo. sure it Technically had been swiped by techno out from under ranboo but it was still Something. techno wasnt one to give up valuables easily

then techno starts ‘complaining’ about ranboos living area. and his eating habits. phil looks away when techno smuggles golden carrots into ranboo’s shack

eventually technoblade is crafting ranboo a cloak to match their own and he’s freaking out about ranboo’s height and his dimensions and how much cloth he’ll need but he refuses to ask ranboo and phil is holding his head in his hands

(phil forces techno to gift him the cloak in person rather than stash it under his pillow and run like he’d planned. techno bitched about it but after ranboo practically lit up, burying himself in the cloak and thanking techno so hard his throat mustve hurt, techno was so practically purring the rest of the day)

after gifts, its noises.

techno is seemingly silent. he doesnt speak up much, moves so quietly people tend to jump when he appears.

in reality, he talks to himself constantly. either when alone or when in phil’s company. philza knows that aspect is the ‘voices’, and also just technoblade’s tendency to fill the silence and wonder his own thoughts aloud

but the snorts, squeels, grumbles, and other sounds he makes without realizing are some phil knows are piglin

its often guttural, a noise he makes in the back of his throat that rumbles and reverberates through his bones.

itd sound terrifying to anyone, but after years of techno trilling deep when phil enters a room, when he returns from some sort of journey, when he says hello or makes his presence known in anyway, phil realized its more like a greeting. excitement to see him. it became something sweet

long story short ranboo nearly jumped so high his head went through the ceiling when he’d first walked into the home, said hello, and some gruff purr sounded from the techno’s chest

theyd both jumped so hard, stared at each other as if they were trying to figure out what was wrong with the other

phil was physically pained as he held back his laughter to the point he was crying. that changed the subject to him quickly

it didnt happen again for a while, but phil didnt say anything and just watched. it was too entertaining

techno would make his small squeals between breaths when he remembered something, muttered to himself, snorted and huffed even as ranboo was around

ranboo got used to it. he stopped jumping or even looking confused when techno trilled some sort of deep purr when ranboo would join them for dinner

lastly, techno was tactile

or, as tactile as he could be. techno wasnt touchy even on a great day. he was selective, reserved, would lean into phil or loop an arm over his shoulders but would never say anything about it

phil didnt question it and would just pat techno on the arm without saying a word

but. sometimes. when phil would be gone for a long time, techno would rest the entire weight of his head on phil’s shoulder, practically encapturing him, rumbling and grumbling so harsh it shook phil’s whole body

phil still wasnt certain on this one. he couldnt find much in the way of what it meant. piglin’s tended to stay with their own, and they never reunited after long periods of time because they never would dare to separate for long

he was kind of guessing here, but the way techno would drop his shoulders and practically melt made phil think he was just missing him and wanted to confirm phil’s presence.

it wasnt like he complained. it was sweet

ranboo had been gone a while. he was vague on why, or where. phil had a suspicion or two but ranboo kept a lot of secrets

neither techno or phil pried too far, but phil could tell it was disconcerting to techno. he was tense and kept himself almost deathly busy for two weeks

(piglin rarely if ever kept secrets from one another, phil had read once. omitting a few things here and there, maybe. but lying or deception was out of the question)

phil hadn’t been there when ranboo returned. he’d been gathering firewood after techno was insistent they completely top up all of ranboo’s stores

he’d heard the muffled growls techno made as he walked towards ranboos shack, before even seeing him.

when phil found them techno had ranboo nearly completely obscured in his cape, and definitely he’d have been out of sight if he was any shorter.

techno’s head was lofted heavy in the crook of ranboo’s neck, forcing ranboo to hunch with arms wrapped tight around ranboo. his arms were pinned.

ranboo caught his eyes, looking so scattered and tired and confused and maybe even terrified. he might have spoken or maybe he just mouthed ‘help me’ but the gruff purr-like sound techno made was too loud to hear him anyways

philza shoved his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing

later that night ranboo asked phil if techno was going to kill him. phil wanted to scream

even later then, techno had admitted to phil that, yeah, okay, maybe ranboo was growing on him. phil had never felt so violent

#mcyt #dream smp #philza #technoblade #ranboo #long post #borealis #if this is tagged with anything fucking weird in any which way i will go on a rampage i swear to god #but anyways. help.#this ran so far #idk should i put it under a readmore?? i hate those things #dont like how they break up text #but this is #long as hell kalskhg

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all-about-seggs · 4 years

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A Fine Specimen-

Rating : 18+, Mature, Yandere-verse

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x female reader.

Word count : 2.3k

Warning's : Dark themes, Yandere behaviour, non-con, drugging, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, vaginal sex.

The lights on the low run down ceiling kept flickering, as you try your best to pull yourself out of your trance. The room was dark except for the surgical lights pointed straight on your figure, it seemed like an abandoned operation theatre, or atleast it should be, considering its dingy state. Every effort of looking around and trying to make sense of your current predicament has been futile, even staying level headed in this strange place was a constant struggle.

Your entire body felt heavy despite the fact that you didn’t even had a thread of clothing on you, the cold air of the room hitting you body made another alarm go off in your head. You’d think you were strapped to the cold hard examination table but it was simply the numbness of your limbs that prevented you from moving. Panic started to flood through your system as you racked your brain for any possible reasoning, as to why you were being treated like a test subject. Sure you lived in a society filled with supernatural beings but you were nothing if not normal.

The gradually increasing sound of footsteps pulled you out of your reverie but judging by the situation your in, it most likely wasn’t a good thing. Soon the person who enters, will see you at your most vulnerable, half conscious and naked state, it was humiliating but you had to pull yourself together if you wanted to survive.

Your sleep laden eyes were the only part that you could move but the light shining above you made it quite straining to focus so you stayed still.

A shadow casted itself upon you indicating the person who entered was tall, probably a male and stronger too. In your current state he made you feel like a rag doll as he stared at your form. You’d describe him as a hunter sizing up his prey if you could see his eyes, which were covered by a blindfold. But that wasn’t the only thing peculiar about him, his hair was as white as snow, the lights above you giving him an otherworldly glow when he leaned on you. His pink lips that looked so smooth, shined with the slightest movement. His beautiful features screamed perfect not creep.

“Hellooo~ Y/n chan, are you awake?…..”, He asked in a sing song voice and a smile on his lips that contrasted with the sombre atmosphere of the room.

So he knew your name? It’s not surprising if he was the one who brought you here, but it was the first time you met this person and he had enough quirks that anyone would remember even without having to converse with him. You were barely managing to keep your eyes half open and speaking seemed far too big of a struggle, your body wasn’t listing to you since the moment you woke up so all you could do was wait for him to explain himself, if he’s even planning to.

A few seconds passed in silence before the white haired man continued, “You probably don’t remember but you were attacked. By a curse, I mean.”

His tone held no compassion as his cheery voice continued, “ You were hurt pretty badly and almost got swallowed, but I made it in time so it’s all right now. You need to get examined for any signs of trauma or any other serious injuries, it’s just that your doctor is running a bit late so I decided to take over”, his face drew closer as he practically breathed on your lips, the warmth radiating from his body almost giving you a false sense of relief that was short lived when you felt his hand cup your breast.

“ You don’t mind right?, I’ll make sure to throughly check each.and.every.detail”, he cooed against your ear giving your cold breast a soft squeeze the stranger left feather light kisses up your neck. You may not be a medical expert but even you knew no medical examinations include foreplay. Your body was still as stiff as a rock and even if you were injured it seemed unusual for you to lose the entire control of your limbs and voice, so you put all your strength into pulling out a broken scream from your clogged throat. It was a futile effort but you couldn’t just let yourself be fondled by some stranger who clearly didn’t looked or acted sound of mind.

“ What’s wrong y/n? Didn’t that felt good?”, There was obvious confusion in his tone, as if he doesn’t realise he doesn’t have your consent but as outrageous as it seemed to you his touch felt good, comforting even. His touch was the only thing that gave you warmth since you regained consciousness and maybe it’s your dazed state or the fact that you’ve been lying on this hard surface or its in his superficial beauty that was making your body feel at ease instead of tensing up.

The murky room that previously made you shiver, now felt warm with a sweet scent in the air, “ Don’t worry, I’m going to take good care of you~”, he whispered softly in your ear, moving your breasts tenderly so as to not cause you any pain, and then lightly he rolled your perked up nipple between his fingers, delighting at the sight of your face twisting up in pleasure you can’t refuse.

He tilted your chin upwards to gain more access to your throat and started sucking a trail of red marks from your jaw to the valley between your breasts, they felt tingly and soft at first, his kisses lighting you’re numb body on fire, a feeling that was undeniably delightful albeit forceful.

“ Not gonna put on a fight now sweetheart? What a good girl you are!”, His voice took a maniacal pitch, but his smile appeared to be of genuine nature as if he really did wanted to take care of you.

“ Let’s get serious now shall we?”, Saying that he moved towards your legs, he bent over your naked pussy and parted your thighs as much as your currently stiff body allowed. It was clear to him that you wanted to protest, wanted to hide yourself and run away but your slightly parted lips that couldnt make out any screams of pain or pleasure, those half lidded eyes which were struggling to focus on what was happening to the rest of your body, it was all part of what made your current violator’s desire surge through his blood .

His hand that parted your legs gave the inner part of your thighs a gentle pinch, as he kept on stroking the soft flesh. Moving his left hand inbetween them he reached for your glistening nether lips beneath curls of pubic hair, with two of his long thick fingers he pried them open. Licking his lips like he was about to devour a delicious meal he brought his face closer to your sex until his tongue made contact with your clit. He took the tiny nodule in his mouth and gave it a hard suck making you shiver and with that, every ounce of fight left in you died as you started to surrender yourself to his touch that promised the kind of tantalizing euphoria you’ve never imagine possible.

Your body was beginning to heat up to the point of burning as your senses started catching up to the white haired guy’s mouth which relentlessly worked your clit back and forth. Slipping two fingers of his right hand in your tight cunt, he made more of your white hot cum flow out, your face was the picture of bliss as he kept on licking your slick covered pussy. He shoved his fingers inside you harder and faster until you began tightening around him, your pussy started convulsing when that coil of pleasure unwinding in the pit of your stomach reached its peak. With a slight squeeze of his digits you came on his face, just like he wanted you to.

He smiled while watching you come down from your high, the mess your quivering body made was a beautiful sight for him and he wanted to savour every second of it. You though the fire that he kindled inside you would calm down after you came but your body kept on shaking even when your orgasm had ended. It was like your body was not yours anymore, like it didn’t belong to you but the guy who was in front of you. It was only when he was touching you that made your senses come back to yourself and as soon as he drew away you were left unable to control even a single limb of yours.

“ I’m glad to see it was enjoyable for you my sweetness, although I couldn’t swallow all it, I think i was able to get a good enough taste of you”, he spoke in a low baritone. “ I really wanted to hear your cute voice crying out for me but I suppose I went overboard with your medications, so I guess that won’t be happening”, his tone lacked regret but atleast now you knew why your body was acting funny and how this person was insane if he thinks drugging you is giving medication, despite your reasoning all rationality had already left your brain, only leaving you with an unquenchable thirst for his touch.

From the corner of your eye you could see him swiftly unzipping his pants to take out his hard member. He mounted on you still palming his hard on and it only now dawned on you just how huge he was, his body completely enveloped yours making you feel small as he planted one hand beside your head. He leaned down to kiss your parted lips, slipping his tongue inside, you could taste the remnants of your cum on it when he licked the roof of your mouth. His kiss was so hard it almost felt like he was sucking the life out of you not stopping until your consciousness started to waver again.

“ Haaaa… Sorry, I got carried away, breath for me cupcake, Its no good if I have to hump your unconscious body.”, With that he placed his right hand on the back of your knee and pushed it all the way up to your chest, this new position giving him more access to your still swollen and trembling cunt.

In one smooth motion he was buried deep in you, the slick from your last orgasm gave him enough lubrication that he started moving immediately. His pace was fast, but not violently so. It was the right amount of deep and long as he pulled himself out until only his tip remain inside of you before pushed it in again. He watched your reactions intently as he maintained his steady pace, though mildly, you were still able to contort your face like anyone who is being fucked so good. Soon you felt your second orgasm approach and he speed up his own actions to chase his high as well.

“ Gojo…..Satoru…..”, He said inbetween his rhythmic thrusts, “ that’s my name, so let me make you….. remember …it…..”, With a few more hard thrusts a familiar pleasure washed over you. Your pussy clenched around his cock making him follow you soon after.

Panting heavily, he leaned down to rest his forehead against the crook of your neck, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he calmed himself down. He didn’t pull himself out until both of your heavy breaths became steady, still looming over you. Raising his head he licked your lips, and with a low growl against your mouth he put one of his hand on your throat, wrapping itself around it completely, his actions sent a shiver up your spine. He started putting pressure on only some very particular spots, causing your eyes to roll back, making the already delicate state of consciousness to fade. But before you felt yourself getting knocked out you heard him speak again.

“Next time…… I’ll make you say it”, he said calmly as the man named Satoru withdrew his hands from your neck.

#gojo satoru #gojou satoru #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen Oneshot #smut #lemon #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: yandere #tw: choking #tw: drugging #tw: non con #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark fic

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fourmarkdove · 4 years

Text

Cider.

Prompt: How about an angsty Henry x reader: she is told during a nightmare/dream that she has only one day left to live - and that she must not reveal anything to her loved ones! Waking up in Henrys arms and realize how lucky she was... Even if it couldnt last forever... @scorpionchild81

Title: Cider.

Words: 3k

Summary: Hurt/Comfort. Angst. Fluff. You hear in a dream you have only one day left to live.

Paring: Henry x reader

Warnings/Triggers: Anxiety, nightmares, panic attacks, dissociative disorder, death/dying. DD/lg if you squint and stand on one foot. (I think that’s everything?)

A/N: Pretty close to the prompt. Comments welcome. Thanks for reading!

Henry inhaled deeply, expanding his lungs audibly as he sat up in the bed you shared. He stroked a soothing hand over the curve of your hip while squinting in the dark, searching for the sound that woke him.

Clutching onto your pillow, you buried your face and mewled into it. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched you lying on your side, tense from the battle behind your closed eyes. His brows knitted with concern. It’d been so long since the nightmares claimed you, he thought for the last few weeks that maybe they’d gone altogether. He was clearly mistaken.

Dropping onto his forearm beside you, he carded his fingers through your hair and called to you gently. His first instinct was to burst through those fiery doors to hell and drag you back to this side of consciousness and safety, but it never worked that way. He had to tread gently, let you return to him on your own time. And it was incredibly painful to watch and wait for.

“Darling?” he beckoned, scratching the stubble on his chin over your shoulder like a puppy. “I’m here.”

Your lips parted and nails clawed into the pillow so sharply that the fabric finally ripped along the seam and soft white feathers fluffed out. A frown set his features hard. Cuddling his much larger frame to you, his thick arms encompassed you completely and thighs drew up close behind yours. He pressed his lips just behind your ear and let his warm breath fan over your skin.

“I’ll wait right here with you, Nugget.” As he began to gently rock your body, your grip on the pillow relaxed and he cooed into your ear about what a good girl you were.

Keeping his arms flexed tightly around your body, he hummed a soft tune, remembering how you always fell asleep in his arms in the hammock out back. He’d put a foot down to keep the two of you swaying, and he’d settle you on his chest, right under his chin, so you’d feel it when it’d rumble in his chest. Eventually you’d succumb to his comforting, and he’d feel your body melt into his long frame. He’d scratch the back of your arms, rub circles over your back, even hold your ass with a squeeze that’d make you sigh. You called it the ‘anxious hammock‘; his woman could call it anything she wanted so long as she felt protected and loved in it.

You’d been extra anxious lately with the news and social distancing and people in your social circle getting sick. And with him leaving your self imposed quarantine to focus on training going back to the Witcher set soon, it really ramped up your anxiety.

It expressed itself little by little, starting with hugs around his neck as he was about to leave for the gym, but then when he would straighten up, you’d still be clinging on, dangling off of your feet. He’d chuckle and kiss all over your face, leaving you smiling. But other times, he’d find you hugging your knees, tears rolling down your cheeks until the shower ran cold and turned your lips almost blue.

Other nights, he fully knew what your migraines looked like, so when you’d pretend to have one just so you could avoid dinner, he worried. He still finished dinner, cleaned up a bit, walked Kal and came to bed early with that lavender lotion you liked smeared into his palms. You and he spent a lot of time in that bed together, or the hammock, or the shower, just touching and being together.

When things felt so uncertain and all of the words and tears were wrung out, you’d take turns massaging oil or lotion into each other. He always needed his kitten’s touch kneading against his sore muscles. And you needed his strength to pull you from the anxious knots you tied yourself into.

It really should have come as no surprise that the nightmares returned. The problem was that he wanted to do more - to solve an unsolvable problem - and that frustrated him to no end. He applied himself and conquered so many other areas of his life but in this part, the most important part, he had to be patient.

Sliding his arm under your head like a pillow, he gently tilted your hips back into him to locate the blanket you tucked between your legs. He knew this was more of a marathon than a sprint, so he settled in with a clenched jaw and tried to exhale slowly and sleep.

The black void is a gasping, vacuous, gaping maw threatening to consume first your sanity and then eternity. You can feel the voice rattling through your rib cage, long before the words make conscious sense.

“One day,” the voice calls from nowhere and everywhere. “One day left and then no more.”

Your entire body shudders free of its own volition and you’re aware of the crisp, scratchy bedsheets under your body. Antiseptic. Something metallic on your tongue. Dripping, beeping, wooshing. Buzzing purple fluorescent lights above. Your eyes roll open, vaguely aware of a nurse checking bags, pushing buttons, lifting your blankets. No privacy, no options, no voice.

Why am I here in this hospital? Why am I alone? ‘One more day’ and then - no more?

Panic sets in. You want to scream but the words won’t come out. There’s so much you wanted to do with your life. So many places you were going to see. You wanted to start a family with Hen... wait. Where is Henry? Does he know where you are? What if he doesn’t and you never get to say goodbye?

The thought of tears spilling over those bright blue eyes of his, knowing you’d never be able to hold him again, kiss him again made everything in your being ache. You are desperate to cry out but nothing. It’s as if you’re dead already.

Almost as soon as his long lashes closed over his stormy blue eyes, like falling down into your own body, every muscle jerked and you gasped back into consciousness.

Scrambling to sit up, you drew your legs in to get your feet under you. You tore away the covers and your hoarse voice ripped through your parched vocal cords: “Hhhhhhennnnryyyy!”

“I’m here, Nugget,” he offered, his broad shoulders ghosting behind you.

Despite its size, his hand curving around your ribs was incredibly gentle. You shuddered at his touch; horror darkened your pupils and bottom lip quivered like a harp string vibrating to the point of breaking. Your nails clawed desperately into the sweatpants covering his thigh. Lips parted, but no words formed just yet; your eyes closed tightly and fingers touched your lips ruefully.

“Just a dream, sweet,” he comforted in a strong baritone, wrapping his whole hand around your small fingers. “You’re alright. See? Your Henry Bear is right here. Let me hold you, darling?”

Nodding emphatically, you dug your toes into the sheets and launched your whole body at him, not thinking for one moment about how pathetic your whimpers and trembling arms clinging around his neck might have seemed.

His brows lifted in the center and he continued to follow your gaze right up until you buried your face in his neck. The corner of his lips ticked upwards only briefly, before he nuzzled his face into your hair.

It was stored in his muscle memory by now just where to grasp under your bare thighs, so you could bend your knees and spread over his hips so he could ease you down into a more comfortable position in his lap. There was no awkwardness negotiating who needed to move which limb where because you’d been doing this for years.

Only recently there was less blushing over soaked panties or groans caused by awkward erections; just within the last six months you found yourselves single simultaneously and decided to give it a try.

Your breath was hot and stilted between sobs into his shoulder; his stubble along his jawline was scratchy against your forehead and temple but you didn’t mind. You just needed the closeness. Lifting your hair up into a ponytail, he pursed his lips, and blew cool air across your sweaty neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he questioned, rubbing slow circles with spread fingertips over your back. Your body tensed at his words but began to relax again when you wound your fingers dipped into his chocolate curls.

“I… don’t want to die,” you could barely whisper over his broad shoulder. “I don’t want YOU to die.”

“Oh Nugget,” he sighed, kissing the nape of your neck. “You dreamed I died?”

“No,” you hiccuped, pulling away and tapping the K on his soft gray shirt, attempting to distract yourself while you explained. “I was. And I wasn’t - wasn’t going to see you and - My heart, Hen. It - it feels broken.”

Cupping your face in both hands, he lifted your gaze and kissed your wet cheeks. “Look at us right now…”

Sniffling, you tucked your hands in between his biceps and forearms. “I know. I - It just felt so real. It feels so real. I’m not sure this feels real. It’s too nice to be real. You are too nice. I don’t know how to be sure...”

Deep worry lines etched over his forehead. Pressing his lips together in a flat line, his nostrils flared and he crossed his arms over his chest, peeling off his shirt.

The bear of a man breathed deep and slow, opening his hands to you. He gave you a wide berth; there would be no forcing - ever. His was a silent invitation to this familiar tango you’d only ever done with him.

Your gaze darted from his large palms resting against your thighs to his patient blue eyes watching you carefully.

“It’s alright, darling,” he encouraged, the softest of smiles lifting the apples of his cheeks. He wiggled his long fingers and you held your breath, sliding your hands into his. You felt the rough spots and calluses from the weights, the weaponry, the rope work, the horses. He worked so hard and should be sleeping right now instead of dealing with whatever mess you brought to him.

His soft kiss pressed to your forehead drew you from your thoughts. “Keep going,” he whispered against your hairline and you narrowed your eyes, focusing on his hands again.

They were warm and so strong holding you and - oh - his middle and index fingers. The amazing things they did together. You forced yourself to stop thinking of it but your two fingers stroking inside his two fingers, and the furious blush across your cheeks, made him chuckle.

“That’s my girl,” he grinned broadly. Despite your blush, you continued to dance your fingertips inside his forearms, feeling the veins and sinewy muscle, the thick curve of his biceps and and shoulders. With a soft sigh, you lifted your head, kissed his clavicle and nuzzled into the light smattering of his scratchy chest hair. It was your favorite place to cuddle into.

His particular masculine scent filled your senses and soothed every frayed, exposed nerve in your body; his musk reminded you of spices like cinnamon and nutmeg, orange and cranberry being mixed into hot apple cider on a crisp fall day.

You continued to lazily trace lines along his ribs and down his back, but he knew by your sigh that you’d come home. Tenderly sweeping your hair over your shoulder, he slowly and deliberately slid one arm high across your shoulders and the other low around the small of your back.

“I’m sorry, my love,” you murmured, your voice returning to its usual sweet timbre. It signaled you were returning from the frenzied dissociative state kicked off by that horrifically anxious nightmare. It meant he could speak to you differently, touch you differently.

“You don’t need to be, sweetheart,” he countered, kissing your forehead.

Sweeping your fingers along the stubble of his jawline, you cooed whisper softly and tentatively brushed your lips to his. Securing you to himself, he touched noses and parted lips, deepening the first kiss. Your fingers pushed into the back of his hair and tugged just gently enough to make you both smile.

With a deep, rumbling purr, he grabbed your hips and rolled you easily under him. He caressed two knuckles over your temple and teased your lips apart with his; he chuckled when you chased after his mouth for another.

But you pressed the heels of your palms against his chest and immediately he planked his body, lifting all of his considerable weight off of your much smaller frame.

Shutting his eyes tight, he huffed an exasperated breath and clenched his jaw. He should have known better. It was much too soon to touch you like this.

He intended to roll off and give you all of the comforting and cuddles you needed - until you wiggled a little under him. You shifted just a bit on the bed, reaching down and dragging your t-shirt up your bare stomach. His head was dropped just enough so his dark curls caressed your chest when you lifted your shirt off over your head and sighed softly under him.

You couldn’t help but giggle just a little at the arched brow and wide eyes he gave you when his gaze dragged up your nearly naked body to your face again.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “Ah, all better?”

“Yes, my love. Thank you.” Your answer was purely peaches and innocence during the act of wrapping your arms behind his neck drawing him down to you; only this time, he kept some of his weight lifted onto his forearms tucked under your shoulders.

“I thought I was crushing you.” He had a hint of playful warning in his tone.

“Oh. No, you know I love it even if you were,” you cooed, bending your knees and drawing your soft thighs up his ribs. “Isn’t it Oxytocin from the skin to skin contact?”

He smirked and grunted, catching one of your feet working on dragging the sweatpants down his hip. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

The corner or your lips twitched and your chest felt heavy all over again. You hated to admit it but the specter always lingered. “At the moment.”

“I know darling. We do these things one day at a time though, don’t we? Sometimes, by the minute?” He glanced up while you rolled the curls of his hair over your fingers. Collecting your wrist, he drew it to his mouth and kissed your hand.

Swallowing hard, you blinked but a tear escaped and rolled down your temple.

“Hey, shhh, Nugget.”

You sniffled and looked up into those beautiful, truly concerned, blue eyes of his. “You’re so much better than I deserve, Henry.”

He sighed and his shattered heart tore away from your gaze. Rocking his hips further down between your legs, he wrapped both arms under the small of your back and rested his head on your chest.

It was the first he’d ever put himself in that position unless... he was there to give your breasts some attention? Your nipples hardened at the thought of his hot mouth sucking. He must have seen, or felt your nipple pebbling so near to his lips, because he fisted the edge of the bed sheet and covered your exposed skin.

Uncertain what to do exactly, you laid quietly and listened to his deep breaths and slow heartbeat for a long time. It wasn’t until you heard his breathing pause and stutter that your stomach dropped. “Henry? What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t know what else to do. What other way can I say it so you’ll understand?” His stormy eyes were dark and cheeks flushing pink when he put his chin on your sternum and glanced up at you. “I’m a patient man but you sure are putting me through my paces, sweetheart.”

Panic started to tighten your chest. Hearing your heartbeat and breathing quicken, he pressed his palm over it and spread his thumb away from his fingers to kiss your skin hidden under it.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. This isn’t what I wanted.”

“What did you want?” You asked bracing yourself with a fistful of sheets in each hand, practically panting the words.

Bearing his teeth, he sat up and stroked your cheek with his calloused thumb. “I want you to not be afraid anymore. I want to take away all of that worry in that beautiful mind of yours.”

As he swept the pads of his fingers over your forehead and down your nose, you gave them a kiss when they passed over your lips.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, swallowing hard so his Adam’s apple bounced. Your brows lifted, confused, but before you could ask, he dropped onto his side and pulled you to him, sheets and all. Legs and arms tangled together, you touched foreheads and shared the same warm breath fanning over each other’s skin.

“Hen?”

“Mhmm.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, Nugget.”

“Hen?”

“Hmm.”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Even if it was only a minute. And in the middle of nowhere. I’d want that last minute with you. That’s home… with you. If that’s okay with you, I mean.”

You thought for a moment that the wide eyed expression he gave you was surprise, until a smile lifted his features so brightly, his canines appeared. His mouth pressed to yours, gently at first, but taking a breath, he tipped your head and closed his lips over your top one, causing you to whimper and give him your bottom lip next. As your kisses became more hungry by the second, your attention was drawn from his tongue flexing into your mouth to his hands at your back.

They were fumbling with something, although you couldn’t tell quite what. Reaching behind you curiously, he grasped your hand and pressed his thumb inside your palm. Instinctively, you closed your fingers around it as he returned your hand to your chest.

He flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and grinned. “Until I can get you a real diamond,” he panted breathlessly, lips reddened and slightly swollen.

Peering down inside your closed hand, you recognized the gold flash immediately. “Henry, darling, you can’t give me your signet ring!”

He scoffed, arching an eyebrow and collected your left hand, “’Course I can.”

Putting your entire ring finger in his mouth, he pulled off the artificial pearl you wore with his teeth and slid his ring on instead, making you giggle and wiggle your fingers.

“It’s a bit large,” you confessed, attempting to keep your fingers pressed tightly together. Turning your hand over, he let it drop into his palm and slid it onto your thumb instead.

“It’s only temporary,” he reminded you, lying back on the pillows and opening his arms so you could put your head on his chest. He let out a long, gruff sigh feeling your body settle down tucked in against him. Closing your eyes, you already felt your body starting to get heavy.

“You know,” he continued, gently raking his spread fingers through your hair, “I wanted to kiss you the first night we met.”

“That birthday party?” you cooed, nuzzling along his jawline. “That was almost ten years ago, Hen. I wonder where we’d be if you would have.”

“I imagine the exact same place. Only there’d be a couple more pairs of little feet running up and down the hall. What do you think, darling?”

You’d have absolutely agreed, and probably squealed at the thought, but you were already fast asleep by the time he finished his sentence. And it was the best sleep you’d had in months.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill comfort #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #fourmarkdovewrites

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honeypirate · 3 years

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Easy Living pt one

Part two

Obi Akitaru x fem!reader

The one where reader almost dies.

Warning- blood. Swearing. Trauma from getting hurt while working. Obi figuring out slowly how he feels.

Part two reader puts on a surprise concert. I don’t know why I add music to so many fics I write lmao. I also write reader getting hurt a lot I think but oh well. Sorry if this is too much like my other one or if Obi is ooc. I’m still learning 🙈

Part two also has a bonus if the ducky explanation

Your boss. He was your boss. You knew how cliche this was, but it didnt help you at all. Didnt stop the way your heart fluttered around him or the way his teasing felt like flirting. There was no way he was flirting with you and you knew that! So you just pretended like everyhting was fine, shoving your feelings as far down as you could and putting the lid on them, gluing, locking, putting everything you could think of to keep those feelings in.

Technically he was your boss because he was the captain, but really, you knew him when you were just fire fighters. you were friends before he was even your boss but still, you were unsure how that affects interpersonal office dating.

Thinking about this whole situation is what got you into the mess you were in, but even now, leaning against the side of a burning building as a metal rod sticks out of your shoulder, you couldnt help but think of Obi.

White clad and infernals, a normal tuesday, you ran into the garage and started quickly pulling on your pants and jacket. Obi comes in half a second after you, sliding into place in his cubby next to yours as he hops into his boots and pants. “Ready for this Ducky?” he says and you roll your eyes “when will you drop the duck thing? Shit Obi its been years.” you say as you throw on your jacket “never” he mutters into your ear, his breath making you shiver as it hit your ear. Good thing he didnt notice since shinra pops up “what about a duck?” he asks and you sigh “i’ll tell you later” you say as you all rush into the matchbox, of course landing you into sitting beside Obi. you really felt like a matchstick in this cramped car, but your heart was warmed becaue it wasnt always this full.

You got separated right off the bat. A white clad successfully drawing you out and leading you down back alleyways. You beat him, quickly you might add, but he was able to make an infernal, releasing a bug while you weren’t paying attention, for the split moment you got distracted thinking if Obi was okay. The infernal took out the building behind you and sent shrapnel going everywhere. Shrapnel like the metal rod currently attaching you to the wall of the next building which was currently blazing.

“Okay. think y/n. If you pull yourself off you could bleed out. You could use your flames to burn the wound but not on the exit wound. Fuck. what do i do here? i cant just stay here please think” you feel yourself get light headed, a wave of strange tingles hitting your body as your blood pours out of you, you can feel it running down your chest and back and pooling in your left boot. It squishes when you move your toes. “Fuck!” you shouted. Your only choice is to pull yourself off of it and since you’re bleeding so much you doubt it’s even tampering off anything and maybe it’ll be okay. Hopefully. Probably. I guess you’ll see.

You felt your tears start to flow from the pain but the fire was moving closer as it raged through the building, making your back feel warm. You could hear people shouting far away but you could tell they were all civilians, you didn’t recognize anything that could be your team. You were too far lost down back alleys to be found easily so you had to work fast.

You took a deep breath and ripped off your glove. “Please, if there is a higher power, dont let me die” you whisper before you shove your glove between your teeth to bite down on as you whine, throwing a mini tantrum because you really didn’t want to do this but your back was starting to burn now from the flames on the other side of the wall, the wood cracking right by your ears. Burn to death or bleed to death? What a decision. What a shitty hand you have been dealt today.

You count down in your head from five and when you get to one you’re screaming and pushing your body forward, gritting down on the glove in your mouth. The metal tears more and more of your shoulder as you pull, you feel blood pouring more down your shoulder, warm and causing you to get goosebumps from the heat. When youre free your glove falls from your teeth as you gasp for air and fall to your knees.

“mother fucker” you whispered and then then mustered up the rest of your strength to use your second gen powers, pulling the fire that's all around you to just hold a small ball in your hand. You tear off your jacket and push down your jumpsuit sleeve, your tank top sleeve underneath torn away and ripped because of the metal rod. You scream out as you try to push the fire into your skin but you cant, you cant physically put yourself through any other amount of pain. You start to sob, you were so scared, you’ve never seen this amount of blood before and it’s your blood which makes it even worse. You discard your helmet, then you pull yourself to your feet, your knees wobbling for a moment before you take off running, using your last energy to make it back to your team.

“y/n?” arthur is asking when he sees you pop out from the alleyway “Arthur please” you sob, your voice breaking from the pain and from your fears “you have to, you have to burn it okay?” hes voicing his confusion but when you turn and he sees all the blood he’s quiet and starts to run towards you “you have to, to stop the bleeding. Please” you say as you try and take a step towards him but falling to your knees.

“I cant. I tried to burn it myself, but i had to pull myself off and i couldn't- i couldnt do it. but you have to! okay Arthur? Use your sword. You have to stop the bleeding or i will die” you say, your body shaking as you reach for him, your hands covered in your own blood and shaking uncontrollably “ I cant burn you y/n. I cant” he says, his voice cracking. seeing you covered in so much blood freaked him out. You growl, getting annoyed with the pain and fear now “ARTHUR DO IT NOW! A TRUE KNIGHT would save their friend” you say, your energy begin to fail as you another wave of lightheadedness hits you and he screams before he places his sword against your wound and ignites his plasma.

Your screaming is what attracted Obi, he heard your blood curtling screams and took off running. You sounded so close you must be just a street away. He pops out to see Arthurs plasma disappear and hes filled with anger “Arthur what did you do?!” he shouts as he runs towards you. “I didnt do anything she didnt ask me to!” he shouts.

Obi runs to you, ignoring the smell of iron covering you and the smell of burning flesh, and he sheds his jacket. He unzips his jumpsuit to shed his shirt, using it to press into your shoulder in the front. He rips the sleeve off your jumpsuit and then rips it more making a makeshift bandage. He rips your other sleeve off as you kneel there a little loopy, your tears still flowing as you looked at his serious face. “Hi Obi” you whisper with a light chuckle and he gives you a stern look making you smile for some odd reason, thinking he looked so handsome in this moment.

He uses your other sleeve to shove tight against your back wound before using the long strip of sleeve to use to tie around you as tight as he can, holding the fabric in place. Obi didn’t know the whole story, just that you were covered in blood and had a bad wound. Once hes done, after about 8 seconds, hes lifting you easily into his arms and taking off running, not even payinng any attention to Arthur.

Everything after he picked you up was a blurr, you weren't all there but you tried to keep conscious as much as you could as your head lolled to his shoulder, realizing he didn't put his jumpsuit back on and your cheek is against his skin. “Stay with me. Do NOT fall asleep. That’s an order!” you chuckle softly, your tears stopped now as you felt safer in his arms, and you lift a hand covered in drying blood and started to trace small circles aganst his chest so you could stay conscious.

“An order from my superior who isnt that much older than me and who was my friend before he was my captain. You know” you groan and sigh as you start seeing dark spots in your vision “i would more likely follow your orders if you just asked me as a friend” he laughs, glad that at least you’re talking and awake even if your speech is slurred and he can feel your blood start to seep through his bandages. “More likely? Like you arent always following my orders to the T anyway little duck” he jokes and you nod, your head swimming from the action. “Yes but who knows the extra miles I would go for you, Obi” you whisper before your consciousness finally fades away into peaceful darkness.

You wake with a gasp, your hand tightening around the one that was currently holding yours, startling the person awake as they move to stand quickly “hey hey shhh shhh shh it’s okay you’re okay” he says and you recognize his voice. Finding his eyes you relaxed into the bed as you remember everything that happened.

“Captain” you said, your voice and throat dry and he hands you some water. “Glad to have you back. What do you remember?” he asks and you go to sit up but wince, your eyes screw shut and you groan as you stop moving. When the pain has stopped a little you take a deep breath and start from the beginning, using the bed remote to lean your body up.

“The white clad drew me away from everyone else and before I realized it was too late. He let a bug go before I took him out and the infernal caused the building to explode, a metal rod flying out and hit me in the shoulder pinning me to the next building which was already burning.” He was scowling as you told him this, anger in his heart about how you got hurt. “The building was ablaze. I could feel it burning my back and I had no other choice but there was so much blood” you voice cracks as you look down at your hand remembering how covered it was. You clear your throat to try and stop the tears that you feel burning your eyes “I made Arthur stop the bleeding because I couldn’t do it. I was so afraid Obi. Please don’t be mad at him. The bleeding had to be stopped” he nods “I know. I still cant help but feel annoyed that he had to hurt you though” you smile softly at him, glad that he was here with you. “It was that or let me bleed to death obi what would you have done?” he scowls “something else” he mutters and you laugh gently and squeeze his hand “been protecting me since we were greenies. I must say, i appreciate it”

He sits again and runs his hand through his hair, he looks disheveled and he has a 5oclock shadow. “I got you to the ambulance shortly after you passed out. I left everything with Hinawa because it was pretty much wrapped up by that time. they took you into surgery and it went well and didn't take a long time. They said the longest thing was the blood transfusions since you lost so much blood. It didn’t hit anything important thankfully and they said that burning it was a good idea given the circumstances” your eyebrows furrow as you realize it’s dark outside. “What time is it? How long have you been here?” you ask and he looks away sheepishly “it’s around three in the morning. And I’ve been here the whole time. What did you expect?” He says with a chuckle and shy smile. you squeeze his hand and he looks back to you “i’m glad it’s you” you say, quite easily in fact that it kind of scares you, until you realize it’s probably the pain meds.

You shiver and try to pull up your thin hospital blanket, but it does nothing to help how cold you feel. “Obi do you know if there are any more blankets in here?” You don’t know why you whispered, maybe because of how late it is or how dark the room is, the only light being from the light on in the bathroom with the door halfway open. He stands and starts to look through the cupboards and drawers.

“I found socks, another gown, and this pack of tissues” he says and you smile “thanks for looking, can I have the socks” you go to reach out for it but unintentionally use your bad arm since it was your dominant hand. You hiss and stop moving, leaning back against the bed. He scowls, hating to see you in pain, but currently he thinks it’s just because you’re one of his closest friends and what kind of person would like to see their best friend in pain?

He takes the socks and moves up the blanket from your feet, gently lifting your right foot he slips on the sock and then pulls a little at the toes so they aren’t too tight. Your eyes widen and your breath hitches at his soft actions and the way he fixes your toes. You’ve never even mentioned that you do that he must have just picked up on your habits and noticed these small things.

Once he’s done he slips out of his jacket and goes to hand it to you “no it’s okay. I don’t want you to be cold too” you say and he smiles softly, “I insist y/n. You’re the wounded one” he says while placing it on you gently. His warmth floods into you and the smell of his cologne which makes your heart flutter. You frown and take his hand before he can sit again “hey maybe we could compromise so we can both be warm..” he raises his eyebrows and you scoot to the edge of the bed on your side, gingerly babying your shoulder as you meet his eyes. looking down at you he can see the vulnerability in your eyes. He remembers how you were crying when he found you and Arthur, how scared you were and the sound of your scream still fresh in his mind. He can see some of that residual fear in your eyes and as you pat the empty space he’s kicking off his boots and climbing in the bed next to you.

He’s slow and easy, a little awkward at first, but he relaxes as you turn into his body, wrapping one leg around his, his jeans rough against your bare legs as you try and soak in his warmth. His arm wraps around your back and stays away from your wound. you sigh softly as you finally stop shivering. “Thank you Obi” you say and he hums in response. His eyes closing as he relaxes into the bed until he feels something hot and wet hit his chest then he’s looking down at you worried.

“Hey hey what’s wrong?” He asks softly and you sniff, trying to hide your face in his chest “I’m sorry” you whisper, unable to stop the tears that fall and he hushes you “no you have nothing to apologize for” he pets your head comfortingly, his fingers sliding through your soft hair. “I just. I was so scared tonight. I’ve never been that scared before. There was so much blood. I thought. I thought that was it. That I wasn’t going to see you again” you sniff and quickly add “or anyone else at the eighth. I thought-“ his hand stops on your head “hey” he says cutting you off “you’re right here” he says “you’re here. You’re safe with me” he whispers and you feel the tears flow harder as you hide your face in his chest. He hums softly and shushes gently, every once in a while telling you that he’s with you or that you are safe.

When you relax into him, your tears stopping and exhaustion hitting you, you sigh and move your head so your cheek is against his chest. He brushes away the stray tears left on your cheeks and you smile in your half asleep state and say “you’re such a good man Obi”

He doesn’t know why his heart fluttered when you said that. He doesn’t know why it made him feel so proud that you think he’s a good man. He was confused about why he wanted to be a good man for you. he sat awake in the dark, playing with your hair and thinking about why he’s suddenly feeling this warm and soft with you, he catches himself thinking about how he never wants to have you out of his arms, where he knows you’re safe.

“Well isn’t that sweet” Hinawa says from the door and you stir in his arms. He shoots Hinawa a glare and brings his finger to his lips. “She hasn’t slept nearly long enough” he whispers and Hinawa smirks as he enters the room, as an outsider who’s known you both since the beginning of the eighth, he’s seen all the signs and knew this would eventually happen. “Is she okay?” He asks as he sits in the chair. “She will be” Obi fills in Hinawa about what happened and told him how your surgery went, he left shortly after to fill out the paperwork for a worker hurt on the job and tell the rest of the team.

When you wake up it’s because Obi is brushing your hair from your face “y/n wake up” he’s saying softly and it pulls you from unconsciousness. You take a deep breath as your eyes flutter open, smiling when you see him looking down at you. “Good morning little duck” he says with a soft smile “the doctor is here and I should get out of the bed so they can do their tests” you nod and move, letting him go as he gently rolls out of the bed.

After the tests the doctors say they want you to stay there for a week under observation so they can make sure your wound doesn’t get infected. you were surprised when it went by quickly and even more surprised that Obi came to see you every day. The rest of the team takes turns on days to come see you so you never had to be alone for too long but Obi was there every day at the same time in the afternoon, bringing you some brunch and staying for a few hours. And every time he leaves he finds it harder to be away from you. The only times he has had to be away from you in years and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“You’re scowling again” Hinawa says during dinner and Obi huffs rolling his eyes “you don’t have to point it out every time” he says and Hinawa just laughs, because he knows how this is going to end and he enjoys watching it go down.

“Today’s the day!” Obi says as he walks through the door and you laugh, you’ve changed into clothes he’s brought you the day before and you just got done with the physical therapist meeting and you’ve set up days to come back for therapy every other week for the next two months. You go to put your bag over your good shoulder and he’s taking it from your hand and putting it over his shoulder “ready little duck?” He says and you roll your eyes “I’m so ready” you say and he grins “let’s go home”

“You have no idea how nice it is to be out of there” you say at dinner and Hinawa looks knowingly at Obi who just kicks him under the table. “We’re so glad to have you back Y/n!” Tamaki says and you smile “I missed you guys. I was going a little crazy there”

Obi makes sure he knows where you were at all times, telling himself it’s just so he knows you’re okay just in case you need anything. Not letting himself believe that almost losing you almost wrecked him

He brings you into his office that night to talk about moving forward and what he expects of you. “Until you’re cleared from physio you won’t be sent on any missions unless cleared by me. Expect a lot of paperwork” he smiles softly when you sigh, knowing your hatred for the mundane task. You nod “yes sir” before he lets you leave his office, he gets up from his chair and gently embraces you. You gasp softly and pause before wrapping your good arm around him and burying your face in his chest “I’m so glad you’re okay y/n. I just wanted you to know that” he whispers and you nod into chest, your heart fluttering and stomach flipping.

You go to shower that night, tucking clothes into your sling and your towel before grabbing your caddy with your good hand. When you exit your room you bump into none other than Obi, who was just about to knock.

Your clothes fall to the floor and he chuckles and apologizes before bending down to pick them up. “I wanted to ask if you wanted-“ his voice goes quiet as he picks up your thong, black and lacy he feels as if his heart stopped as he immediately pictured them on you. He pushes away the thought and his face turns red, your cheeks blush when you notice what he’s holding but you smile softly when he just folds them and places them between your shirt and shorts he just refolded as well, then he grabs your towel and stands.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to” he laughs awkwardly “have a cup of tea with me. Like we used to when we were greenies” you smile as you remember getting tea with him when you weren’t a fire soldier. Every night after work you’d get a cup of tea and talk about your lives and mainly rant about work and the government. It was nice because he would sometimes choose to get tea with you instead of get beers with the rest of the team. Sure you went out with all of them occasionally but he always preferred your company to the rest of your team at the time.

“If there’s lavender tea you know I’m in” he smiles with a chuckle “ don’t worry. I picked up some yesterday”

He walks you to the bathroom, carrying your stack of clothing as you talk, just joking like usual but there was something sweet in the air, and you were pretty sure he was flirting with you when he said “see you later pretty little duck” which he was, but cut him some slack man doesn’t know how to flirt with someone way out of his league like he knows you are. He’s nervous. And that’s the reason why he used your nickname to call you pretty without it being too heavy of a confession that he wasn’t that confident with at the moment, he didn’t know just how deep he loved you yet.

Your feet pad softly against the hard flooring, echoing softly against the hallway walls. You left your sling in your room, not wanting to wear it since you’ll be going to bed soon. You push open the kitchen door to find no one there, but the remnants of someone making tea is obvious. You see the light on the stove that means it’s still hot, and some crumbs on the counter from the cookies you knew Obi was saving on the highest cupboard. You smile and walk down towards the dining room and smile when you see what’s inside.

“Hey there Ducky” he says when he sees you come in and you feel your cheeks flush, not at the name but the way he said it, his voice soft and gentle, no trace of teasing or jokes. Like being called ducky was endearing and not a story you hold as your most embarrassing moment in your life.

The table had tea set out and cookies and had only the lower lights on so it wasnt too bright, it was just the same atmosphere as the tea shop youd go to. “You didnt have to do all this�� you say and he smiles with a shrug “just wanted to show you how glad i am you are home” you smile, suddenly feeling shy, and take the seat next to him.

He pours you some tea and adds a sugar cube, just how you like it and you smile “thank you Obi” you say and your fingers brush his when you take your mug and he furrows his bows at the tingles that shoot up his arm. You take a deep inhale of the tea, the lavender already making you relax.

You sit and talk with him for hours, it feels like you’re young again and actually taking time to relax with your friends. “This is really nice Obi. It’s been a long hard road filled with never ending work, it feels nice, to have a moment where I don’t have to worry.” You ended up as close to him as you could be at the edge of the table, next to him at his place at the head of the table. Your left foot was behind his and your right foot was between his that were crossed at the ankles. Physical touch wasnt anything new between you but it felt - new - somehow. “I’m glad I could give you that moment” he says with a smile as he finishes his tea.

“Why do you call me ducky so much? Is it because you’re just teasing me?” you ask as you nibble on a cookie, your eyes were tired and burning but you didn’t want to leave yet. He watched as your eyes rose from the cookie to meet his eye and couldnt help but think how cute you looked as you slowly blinked tiredly at him.

“Because that was the day i realized that you’d be in my life forever” he says with a grin and your heart stops as you stare at him “care to elaborate?” you whisper and he laughs softly “that may be an embarrassing memory for you, but for me it was one of the best memories. I realized that we would be best friends for a long time and that i’d make sure of it” you laughed “best friends. Yeah” you say and then lean forward, pulling your feet from him and sighing “i should get to bed, my shoulder is beginning to hurt” he nods and stands with you, helping him clean up before he walks you back to your room.

“Did I say something? Are you okay?” he asks softly when you get to your door and youre too afraid to look him in the eye so you just wrap your good arm around his side and hug him close “dont worry Obi, i’m just tired. I’m really glad you want to be my best friend. You are invaluable, truly. Keep calling me duck, i dont mind it.” you turn to walk into your room and wants to stop you, wants to cup your cheeks and look deep into your eyes until you tell him the truth, but he cant make himself. He can only watch as you avoid his eye and close your door softly with a click.

#obi akitaru x reader #obi akitaru x y/n #obi akitaru x you #obi x you #obi x reader #Obi Akitaru #fire force imagines #obi akitaru imagines #fire force fanfiction #Obi Akitaru fanfiction

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handonshipper · 3 years

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If I Knew Then What I Know Now: Chapter Three

Hope headed downstairs after putting her father to sleep. The voices in her head caused by the Hollow were getting to her. It was getting harder and harder to manage. The most relief she had gotten since she took in the Hollow's magic again was when she was spending time with the waiter from the Mystic Grill, Landon Kirby, yesterday. Something about being around him was different. A little distracting at least. But she was dangerous to be around right now, and she knew it. Which was why she did not consider going to find him.

The tribrid wondered what exactly the waiter was doing in New Orleans, her home town. Was it merely a coincidence or something more? She felt drawn to trust Landon and felt comfortable around him, but she had also recently been betrayed by Roman, her ex boyfriend, which resulted in her mother's death. At the thought of this, the voices grew, and she struggled to ignore them. She breathed out slowly and entered Rousseau's bar. "Declan, hey, I need a favor from the bar." Suddenly her body froze as she spotted a familiar face, her anger flaring up again. Elijah Mikaelson. Her uncle. "What are you doing here? Killing my mom wasn't enough? Now you've come for Declan?"

"That's not what I'm here for." Elijah disagreed, but Hope didn't care. She just wanted to be angry at him. To not let her own guilt sink in. It was painful enough the brief moment it had while she was with Landon. It was easier for her to be angry with Elijah instead of facing all of it. And the voices in her head certainly weren't helping.

"He killed her" Declan said, stunned.

"That's not what happened." Elijah defended

"No, but if you weren't there, she'd still be alive." Hope said, and her rage fueled the voices, causing then only to get louder and louder. She clutched her head. "Stop! God, stop!"

"What's going on with you?" Declan asked, confused and concerned at what was happening to her. He moved to go towards her but stopped as Elijah grabbed his arm.

"Stop! Shut up! Shut up!" Hope shouted. Their voices certainly weren't helping the situation.

"What did you do?" Declan interrogated Elijah. Elijah grabbed him by the neck and pinned him up against the bar.

"Hey, don't hurt him!" Hope said, moving closer, momentarily distracted from the voices by the scene before her.

"I won't. We can't do this in front of him."

"Okay, fine." She waved her hand and put Declan to sleep. The human then fell to the floor. "Now it's just the two of us."

"My memory was gone. I didn't know who she was."

Considering everything the tribrid was feeling at the moment, that wasn't a good enough excuse. "Well, now you do. How does it feel?"

"Like the worst pain I've ever experienced."

The whispers got more intense in her head, and she put her hands on her head and looked around a little, trying to force away the voices. She lowered her hands and looked at her uncle. "I hate you."

"I hate me, too." Elijah said, self loathing obvious in his eyes.

Hope knew she shouldn't blame him, but right now she needed to be angry with someone, and it was easy to be angry with him. "You let her die." In a flash of rage, consumed by emotions and the hollow's magic, Hope waved a hand, cutting him magically repeatedly as though she was clawing into him until he collapsed

"Hope" spoke a familiar voice, but the tribrid didn't give herself a chance to process who the voice belonged to. In a flash of rage, she waved her hand back and caused a deep gash across the person that entered. "Hope" the voice repeated, though now it had a groan, and the tribrid suddenly realized who the voice belonged to.

Landon Kirby.

Landon was walking down the street as he thought about everything that happened. He wanted to make sure Hope was alright. He hadn't seen her since the day before. But he also did not want to interact with her, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew that he was no longer the same Landon Kirby he had been before he melted into a pile of goo. Before he had been sent to Malivore and lived what felt like years in complete isolation, Before he had to fight monsters in the prison world to survive.

He knew he was darker, fought with both brawn and brain. He attacked first and didn't let himself worry about the consequences. He just needed to fight and kill. That had been his mindset for the past several weeks since he got out of Malivore. And now he was here, surrounded by people.... It was a lot, and he wasn't sure that he could manage it well enough not to end up being a burden on Hope or anyone else.

Suddenly, he heard Hope's voice from inside Rousseau's as he neared it. "Stop! Shut up! Shut up! Hey, don't hurt him!" There was a little bit of a pause "You let her die!"

A concerned Landon Kirby stepped into Rousseau's and called out her name to get her attention. "Hope" Suddenly, without really paying attention to who it was, Hope waved a hand back. Suddenly, a large gash cut across Landon's chest magically, and he stumbled back a bit, leaning against the wall as blood started soaking his shirt. "Hope" he repeated, groaning a little in pain. This wasn't a wound he could exactly stitch up.

"Landon?" Hope questioned, her eyes widening in horror at what she had done. "Oh god" she said as Landon slowly slid to the ground, putting pressure to his own wound. She grabbed something sharp from nearby and cut her palm. "Here, drink this", she said, putting it near his mouth but not on it.

Landon shook his head, not wanting to risk being sent back to Malivore. He wasnt sure what exactly happened. But he also didn't want to take any chances.

"It can heal you. Drink" Hope said, looking at him, her eyes wide in concern.

Landon shook his head again. "Not you" he said, forcing back a groan of pain

A hurt expression flickered across her face, and she moved her hand away. He could see her wound closing up. Her uncle, Elijah, was healing from his own wounds at the moment.

"Hope. What happened?" Klaus questioned, walking inside the bar.

"I uh. I attacked Elijah, and Landon came in. And I accidentally hurt him too" Hope said. "And he's refusing to drink my blood. I don't know why. I told him it would help"

Klaus walked over and bit his own wrist before feeding it to Landon forcefully. Landon drank some of the hybrid's blood. He coughed some of it up, anxious about how vampire blood would affect him. But the blood already started to heal him. His eyes drifted shut and Landon lost consciousness.

Hope was pacing downstairs in the Mikaelson home, trying to keep herself calm and have as much control over the whispers as she could. It had died down after she hurt Elijah. The pain wasn't as bad as it had been before. But she knew it was only temporary. She looked up as her father came downstairs after putting Landon.

"How is he?" She asked immediately.

"He's alright, just sleeping. He's getting a bit feverish, but it's mild." Klaus said, looking at his daughter. "Who is he?"

"His name is Landon, and he's human. He, uh, he used to serve me milkshakes at the Mystic Grill. He took a trip here. I'm not sure how long he is staying. He says it depends on if he has reasons to stay."

"What was that? You won't take my help, you reject the bracelet, you're throwing Elijah around" Klaus said, looking at his daughter with worry.

"It stopped the voices." the tribrid admitted, trying not to sound as vulnerable as she felt.. She had all of this power and she knew it was killing her. And the voices were so intense, part of her wanted to scream and take out all of New Orleans to feel better.. But she didn't want to hurt people. She never wanted that. It was why she worked hard to control her magic so she never used too much. Never used more than necessary for a given occasion. Though she hadn't exactly been following her own rules lately.

Her father looked at her, stunned "What?"

"Ever since I took the power back, the whispers... I can't think, I can't sleep, I can't even breathe. But right now, it's silent. Is this the rest of my life? A rage that can only be quieted by violence?"

"Hope, if violence is what you need to feel better, then you have the perfect father. We'll handle this. In the meantime, you should probably keep your distance from your friend. Landon"

"I was thinking the same thing." Hope said, looking at him. "Thank you for bringing him here and making sure he was alright."

"You're welcome" Klaus said.

"I saw Landon yesterday" she said, trying to talk to him before the voices grew too loud again. "We talked for a bit, and I showed him around New Orleans"

"You could manage it? The voices?"

"It was... I don't know, easier around him. I can't explain it. It was still there and bothersome but it wasn't as bad. I have no idea why" Hope said as she followed her father upstairs to her room. "I thought I could handle it. I really did."

"You're handling it as best you can, and I'm gonna be here with you every step of the way." Klaus promised as he looked at his daughter.

"Will you stay with me awhile?"

"Of course I will. So do you like this boy?"

Hope was silent for a moment, but she was grateful for the focus on Landon instead of the voices constantly in her head. "Even if I did, it doesn't matter"

"What makes you say that?" Klaus questioned curiously.

"My last love interest betrayed me. I dont think I am exactly the right person to be dating"

"The first person I was truly involved with is currently under a sleeping spell in this very building." Klaus pointed out with a slight smile. "Do you like this boy"

"Yes. But I can't think about a relationship" Hope said. She never would be able to. She could feel herself dying. It wasnt fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to get involved with anyone while she was dying. Though she couldnt exactly say that to her father. "He's human. Our family gets ourselves involved in a lot of dangerous situations. And mom just-" She shook her head

"Your mother would want you to be happy"

"I know she would." the tribrid said simply but she had already made up her mind. She wanted Landon to be safe. Not be killed like Camille, Hayley, Jackson, and many others had been while close to their family. If he was genuinely as nice of a guy as he seemed, then she definitely didn't want to ruin his life, which is probably exactly what she would do if her family got involved with him. Invaded his life. He already got hurt because of her. Hope wasn't sure she could avoid that happening again if he didn't leave.

Hope was confused on why he was pushing her to be in a relationship, especially after how he reacted whenever anyone else got in a relationship. However, after looking at him for a moment, she recognized the reasoning from his expression. He wanted her to have hope. To find something to live for and to look forward to. Something to fight for besides family.

#legacies #cw legacies #legacies cw #hope mikaelson #landon kirby #klaus mikaelson #legacies fanfic #legacies fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #handon #hope x landon #landon x hope #If I Knew Then #if i knew then what i know now #if i knew then chapter three #if i knew then what i know now chapter three

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 5 years

Note

Ooooh!! # 21 again plz and thanks!

Here is Part 2 of a request I had received and written before! You can find part one in the link below:

Part One

Continuation of #21

"No, I want to speak with Hermione Granger. Floor four, her office number is four fifty s- no I dont want to speak with a consulting Healer I want Hermione!"

Harry was currently bent over, yelling into the floocall he had with St Mungos, getting more frustrated than he really should've. Hermione was not only one of the best Healers in the hospital, but was still hounded by people who only wanted to meet her for her part in the war. There were security measures in place for her own protection, which Harry understood, but he needed to see her now.

"Harry," Draco began in a sing-song tone, and Harry whipped his head around quickly. He was currently standing on a stool with one foot, the other kicked upward as if to help him balance or reach, and he had his hands searching the very top of the bookcase he was standing in front of. Harry was pretty sure the only thing up there was dust, but Draco seemed pretty happy. "Harry, look! I found it!"

"You found what, Draco?" Harry asked, also listening with one ear as the nurse explained for the third time why she couldnt just fetch The Hermione Granger. Draco began to wobble on the stool causing Harry to shoot up quickly, racing over and catching Draco as he fell from the stool. Once Draco was safely in his arms, the man began to giggle profusely.

"You- ha- you caught me!" He giggled again, standing before leaning against Harry and placing a hand against his forehead. "Like I was a damsel in distress!"

"You're not exactly a damsel, Draco," Harry mumbled before hearing 'Hello? Sir? Is this a good time?' from the floo. Harry took a deep breath, pulling Draco to sit on the couch before kneeling back down in front of the floo. "No, it's not a good time! That's why I need Hermione Granger!"

"Sir, it's just that-"

"I understand the rules! But I'm Harry Potter, I am her best fucking friend and I have an emergency!"

"Harry, dont you want to know what I've found?" He glanced back quickly to see Draco standing with his hands behind his back, pouting.

"Why do you keep getting up?"

"Sir?"

"Sorry, just, please. Just deliver the message. Immediately. It's an emergency and Harry needs her. I'll be at my house." Harry reached up, pulling the lever closed quickly and huffing loudly. He stood up, turning to see Draco's pout once more. "Of course, I would love to see what you have found, Draco."

Draco's face lit up as he pulled his hands from behind his back, shoving the item forward. He held a black picture frame with dust covering the glass, and Harry took it from him gently, his brow furrowing. Slowly, he wiped the dust from the frame and took in a deep breath.

He took a seat on the couch near him, placing a hand over his mouth as he studied the picture. It must've been one Sirius had when he lived here that had fallen and was forgotten, or was placed there to be out of the way. He watched a loop of all four mauraders, his father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, all arm in arm. They were smiling and waving to the camera before tackling each other and yelling audioless words at each other. They seemed so happy, and so young. Probably just before their last year of Hogwarts.

"Did I make you sad?" Harry glanced up, only just realizing he felt tear tracks on his cheeks and that Draco was sitting very close next to him. Draco raised a hand and began rubbing his back, a small sad expression on his face. "I didnt want you sad. I wanted you to be happy like I was." Harry blinked a few times before clearing his throat and rubbing at his cheeks to clear them of tears. "That's your dad right?"

"Yeah, that's my dad. I'm not sad, but the way. It's- uh, its happy tears." He watched a bright smile cross Draco's face before the man quickly leaned over and gave Harry a full body hug.

"Harry Potter, I swear to Merlin- if you've harrassed my poor nurse just because you want to complain about your incessant pining- what the fuck?" Hermione was stepping through the floo, speaking before she even fully exited the green flames. Her hair was a mess (or more of a mess than usual), and her clothes were wrinkled as if she just finished another 24 hour work shift at the hospital- and her current facial expression was a mix of tired, surprised, and guilty. "Malfoy is hugging you?"

"Oh! Granger! You look so tired, I think you should get some sleep!" Draco jumped up from the couch, rushing to her and smoothing his hands against her shoulders to smooth out some wrinkles. She looked incredulous, studying him for a moment before looking back at Harry.

"What happened to Malfoy?"

"I think someone put some kind of drug or potion in his coffee. He's been acting-" Harry hesitated, watching as Draco wandered off and picked up a knick knack from the shelf, beginning to play with it. "Well- yeah."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head at him before rushing back over to Draco and plastering on a large smile. "Oh, Draco darling. I don't need sleep, I'm perfectly fine!"

"Oh you're so happy!" Draco cheered, grinning, before hugging her. She held him tightly, leaning in to smell his neck before pushing him away and withdrawing her wand.

"You know what would make me so happy?" Draco widened his eyes, nodding for the response. "Waving my wand around and scanning for people's well being! You know, since I'm a healer and all."

"Of course!" Draco agreed, smiling brightly and setting the knick knack back down.

"May I?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows as her smile calmed a bit, her demeanor shifting more serious.

"Yes, please!" He spread his arms out, grinning as she waved her wand in front of him. Draco suddenly glanced at Harry, smiling wide. "Look Harry! We're having so much fun!"

Harry stood, unable to keep a smile from his face while seeing Draco so happy. "So much fun, Draco." He walked closer as Hermione finished her scan, letting Draco know he could drop his arms. Draco bounced on the balls of his feet like an excited child, and Harry felt a rush of strong affection for the man. He loved seeing Draco so happy, but it hurt knowing that this wasn't actually him. Harry reached forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around Draco and holding him tightly against his chest. Draco responded positively, wrapping his arms around Harry and burying his face into Harry's chest.

"I've found it. It's an overly strong variation of a cheering potion, with added hawthorn." She glanced up at Harry, nodding. "It takes away impulse control, and reverts someone's consciousness to a simple childlike state. He wants to do what makes him happy, and he wants everyone else to be happy too. Though, I'm sure you've figured the symptoms out already."

Harry nodded quickly, moving one hand to make a 'hurry' gesture before replacing his hold on Draco. "Okay so the cure. A spell, a potion? How long will this take? Any long term effects?"

Hermione huffed, waving her wand to dissipate a floating chart and then nodded. "They brewed the potion poorly, and a typical cheering potion can be counteracted with the antidote. We have those on hand at the hospital. I'll run over and grab it and head back immediately. Give me a few minutes."

Hermione immediately left through the floo, and Harry took a deep breath. "Alright, Draco. We'll fix you soon. You'll be okay." He rubbed Draco's back for a moment, but after no response he decides to back up slightly and glance down at Draco. "Did you... want to do something? To like- make you happy?"

"I am happy," Draco mumbled, snuggling closer into Harry's chest. Harry took a deep breath, glancing up and trying to will the heat he felt in his cheeks to calm down.

"Let's go sit, okay?" He heard a mumbled reply and then nodded, pulling Draco over to the couch. Draco snuggled closer into Harry, and Harry found it hard to deny him this. It was only for a little bit anyway, right? Just until Hermione was back with the potion.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing he felt in his chest. Draco's shampoo invaded his senses, making him dizzy, and he held Draco tighter to his chest. He felt butterflies in his stomach and heat in his cheeks, but kept repeatedly telling himself to calm down. Draco would never actually want to do this. Once he was back to normal, everything will be fine.

The floo wooshed again, Hermione stepping out of the flames. She took one look at them, raised an eyebrow, then set the bottle on the mantel and left. Harry sighed, shaking his head before reaching down to pat Draco's shoulder.

"Hey, Draco, I have something I need you to drink." Hatry glanced down, tilting his head when Draco didn't move immediately. "Draco?" He slightly pushed the man, who in return whined loudly and snuggled closer to him.

"I don't want to move! This is the best thing ever!" Draco tightened his hold, and Harry took a deep breath once again.

"Would you please drink it? For me?" Harry waited, and after a moment Draco lifted his head and nodded. "Alright, good. It's on the mantel over there."

"And after I drink it we can do this again?" He asked, pouting slightly. He sighed, smiling softly in return.

"If you still want to, of course." Harry spoke quietly, but Draco heard and smiled brightly, jumping up quickly. He raced to the mantel, taking the shimmering blue potion and uncorking the bottle, downing the whole thing.

It took a few moments, but Harry saw the reaction once the effect wore off. Draco calmed down infinitely, no longer looking like he was about to fall over or tackle someone. His face took on his typical masked expression, and Harry wondered what exactly he was thinking now.

"Thank you for your help," Draco mumbled quietly, placing the bottle down without looking back. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Draco grabbed a fistful of powder and flooed away immediately.

"Fuck." Harry let his head fall into his hands, clutching his hair between his fingers. "I'm so fucked."

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #drabble #auror au #requested

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babieflorenzi · 5 years

Note

They're back from the road trip and since they couldnt exactly do much *physically* for the last few weeks, when they get home they're tired and horny. Matteo falls asleep straight away while david showers (cause hes not a literal goblin) and david walks in on matteo having a certain type of dream: please continue

i wrote this and it ended up being 1.4k so i hope thats okay!! enjoy <3

David swears he was only in the shower for fifteen minutes but when he comes back Matteo is dead to the world. He rolls his eyes at his boyfriend before going over to the closet and trying to dig through it for a jumper. He only gets through one pile of closed before he hears something behind him and freezes. He knows how tired Matteo’s been so he freezes to see if it was him waking up or not. He hears it again, this time more distinct. A rustling sound then a high whine that David recognises almost immediately. He turns around to see Matteo laying with his leg thrown over the rolled up doona. David watches him for a second before he sees him moving his hips slightly, rolling them against the doona.

He watches Matteo for a few seconds, watches while he moans into the pillow and his hands grip the blanket. It takes him a second to realise Matteo’s still asleep, that he’s not doing this consciously. Matteo gasps and murmurs into his pillow “David, shit.” David feels heat flash through his body hearing his name, Matteo’s not only having a dirty dream, but a dirty dream about him and wow. That’s hot. David moves over to sit on the bed, he’s going to wake Matteo up because really it’s been two weeks since they’ve last been able to do anything due to annoying complications on their trip and the fact that sex in a tent hardly works for either of them and David’s not gonna miss the opportunity to do anything.

David puts a hand on Matteo’s side knowing that just talking to him won’t wake him. “Matteo? Baby?” He says. Matteo doesn’t wake to that so David shakes him gently, “ Matteo, wake up.” Matteo wakes up suddenly, head snapping up and eyes wide. He looks like he’s been caught doing something illegal. “Oh my god.” Matteo groans, throwing himself back on the bed. He shuffles so he’s laying on his back looking up at David “Why’d you wake me up, I was having the best dream.” “I thought maybe if you woke up we could continue whatever it was together?” David tilts his head after asking. “Oh we can, can we?” Matteo teases, reaching up and wrapping his arms around David’s neck to pull him down to kiss him.

David’s quick to turn the kiss dirty. He licks into Matteo’s mouth and straddles his thighs. Matteo moves his hands down from David’s neck to drag down his body to grab onto his thighs. Matteo is obsessed with David’s thighs, always having his hands on them when he can. David pulls back from the kiss to talk, “What were we doing in your dream?” he whispers. “How do you know you were in it?” Matteo grins like he knows he’s being a little shit. “Because you were saying my name ‘Oh David! You’re such a sex god David! The only and best man for me!’” David laughs. “Shut up I did not.” Matteo shoves him lightly.

“No but seriously, what were you dreaming about?” David asks again. “Just us, I think you sat on my face and then I got to get inside you after two fucking weeks. Really it’s all I’ve been thinking about since we started heading home.” Matteo says softly. David knows he’s not embarrassed but they’re still working on the talking about sex and things like that so he’s a little shy about it. David gets it. “Hmm? You want that? Tell me what you need baby.” he asks. “Want to taste you. Then we can see where we’re at?” Matteo asks. David just nods and sits back up to take his shirt off. Matteo’s eyes drift down his body and he gives an appreciative hum, “Wow you look good.”

David gets his binder off then reaches for the bottom of Matteo’s shirt. “It’s only fair.” he says before pulling it up. David leans down to kiss around Matteo’s chest, licking over his nipples because he’s recently learnt that they’re pretty sensitive. Matteo’s hands move to push down the back of David’s pants. David kisses him again while Matteo starts pushing his pants off along with his underwear. “Come up here.” Matteo says once he’s got them down to his knees. David kicks his pants the rest of the way off before moving over Matteo again. He sits on his chest looking down at him for a few seconds, “You good?” he asks. “Yeah come here.” Matteo squeezes his thighs. “Remember how to tell me to stop?” David asks, Matteo nods and tries to pull him up. “Show me.” David says. “Ugh fine.” Matteo squeezes his calf twice, the signal they’ve established for when one of them can’t talk but needs a break.

David smiles at him before nodding then moving up to Matteo’s waiting mouth. Matteo runs his tongue in lazy circles while David rolls his hips back against it. David loves being like this, he can move around to where he needs to feel things the most. He knows that Matteo likes having him on top of him like that, that he likes David having all the control. David keeps going for a few minutes, letting himself get lost in the sensation. He gets close, he knows he can come like this but part of him doesn’t want to. Wants to wait until he’s got something inside him. “Matteo, fuck. Matteo I’m-” David grips his hair tight, squeezing his eyes shut when it starts to feel really good, “Matteo I need to stop. Don’t wanna come yet.” Matteo squeezes his thighs to double check that’s what he wants. David nods and starts pulling back and away.

David moves back down to where he’s able to kiss Matteo. He briefly thinks that he should find it gross that he’s okay with kissing him after he’s gone down on him. David pulls back to talk, “Can I take your pants off now?” Matteo nods quickly, hands going to start pushing them down himself. David laughs at his eagerness before pushing his hands away and doing it himself. David looks down to help himself get Matteo’s pants off easier. “Oh no undies? Cheeky.” He teases. “Never hurts to be prepared.” Matteo shrugs, grinning. David just shakes his head, throwing Matteo’s pants on the floor and moving back over him. He gets a hand on Matteo before he’s shaking his head and stopping him, “No. If you do that I’m gonna come before I get in you.” David laughs again letting go, “Best we get to that then.”

David gets up and grabs a condom out of their unpacked bag. They’d definitely overpacked them being oblivious to how little sex they’d be able to have on their roadtrip. He gets it open and on Matteo in record time. “Do you think we need extra lube?” Matteo asks. “Yeah probably.” David groans getting up out of bed to grab it off Matteo’s desk. He’s quick in getting it on him and then moving back over to sink down. After two weeks without, being full feels so good. He just wants more and more, barely giving either of them time to get adjusted before rocking his hips. David’s hot his hands flat on Matteo’s chest to steady himself while he’s riding for his life. “Holy shit this is good.” He says after a few minutes. Matteo just gives a high whine back.

Matteo grips onto David’s hips hard, letting him do whatever he needs right now. David finds the best angle for himself and works it hard. He gets close fast again and can see in Matteo’s face that he’s close too. David’s orgasm hits him hard and out of the blue almost. His whole body shakes and he falls forward to be resting his head in Matteo’s neck. “Shit, so good Teo.” David says, keeping his hips moving to both get himself through it and hopefully get Matteo off too. David sit back up and get Matteo the rest of the way. It only takes a few more seconds of continuous movements for Matteo to be arching his back and moaning loud. He shivers when he’s done, arms moving up to pull David down to him. David goes willingly, wanting to be close to him.

David moves away to get off Matteo’s dick, shivering when it gets out of him. He lays down half on top of Matteo and just stays there for a few minutes. “That was good.” Matteo says once he’s caught his breath again. “Hmm? Just good?” David asks, teasing lightly. “I don’t know. Can’t think that much yet.” “Oh is that right?” “Uh huh.”

#lmao i hope you like it #x nat #hcs #davenzi smut

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allyoucanthinksmut · 6 years

Text

I’m sorry- Scott Mccall

Requested: scott mccall smut where the reader is almost killed and scott feels guilty about it so it’s all fluffy cute stuff then BAM smut?

I wrote this whole story and only half of it posted so i had to delete it. Honestly i was really frustrated about it and didn’t know what to write again.

Warnings: Mentions of almost death?, angst.

You stood there as you watched Kate pace around Scott telling him her story about how she could control the Beserkers and how she was the bone lady. You couldn't do anything. You didn't know what to do. Especially when she started lowering the mask to Scott's face. You screamed stop as you tried to run towards him only to be stopped by a Beserker. She looked towards you and said she was gonna test his loyalty. After she said that she sent him after you.

"Scott, Scott it's me." You said as he stalked towards you. You realized he wasn't going to stop so you started running. You didn't know where you were and everything was confusing. You just kept running though. That was until all of a sudden you ran into a firm wall. You looked up to see Scott.

"Scott please stop. This isn't you." You say holding up your hands as you scooted back. He didn't say anything he just reared his hand back and slashed you across your stomach. You layed there holding the wound as you looked up at Scott. Everything after that was a blur. You watched Scott walk away and go out of the cave. After that you were in and out of consciousness. You heard gun shots and a lot of action but the only thing you could think of was Scott.

Y'alls relationship was complicated. You two have kissed a few times but never came out with how you feel. You thought it would be weird after Allison and all that so you just kept it to yourself. You had known him longer but were to shy before. You just wanted to tell him you loved him and it wasn't his fault before you died but you didn't think that was going to happen.

You felt arms wrap around you as you got lifted up. You heard Scott telling you to stay awake with a cracked voice. You felt one of his tears hit your face before you blacked out completely.

You woke up 2 weeks later in the hospital. You reached down to touch your wound but it wasn't there. You shot up lifting up your shirt. You looked around the room and saw Scott asleep in the corner.

"Scott." You said with a hoarse voice. He shot up real quick and was by your side in a split second. He grabbed your face and acting like he was looking at a ghost. He handed you some water once he backed up. "How am I still alive?" You asked feeling where your wound should be.

"This is a lot Y/N so you should sit back." He said pushing you to lay down. " I hurt you. I hurt you so bad and you almost died. I couldn't let you die like Allison. So I bit you. I didn't know if it would work but I had to. I had to try. I could loose someone I loved again. You have been laying on the bed for two weeks. I could hear a faint heartbeat but i didn't know what was happening. Now your awake and alive and I'm so happy" He said grabbing you face.

"Scott.....I..I don't know what to say. I love you too but I watched you go through everything. I don't want to go through that." You said honestly.

"I will help you get through it." He said kissing your forehead.

"I know you will." You said. You pulled him down to kiss him. He confessed his feelings for you and you wanted to show him how much you loved him. You almost lost each other forever. You couldn't bare the thought of you guys never knowing what it felt like. You grabbed his belt loops pulling him down on top of you. He was surprised by this action so he pulled away.

"Are you okay Y/N?" He said as his boner started to grow.

"Yes I'm fine I just want to show you how much I love you." You said pulling the blankets off of you and grinding your hips onto his. He groaned and slammed his lips on yours. You put your hands in his hair and tugged a little pulling him closer at the same time. You flipped him over and started kissing his neck. He started groaning as you left love bites. You put your hands under his shirt and went to pull it over his head. He lifted up and let you. You put it on the side table. You kissed down his chest until you got down to his jeans. You licked a line following the ending of his jeans. You slowly moved your hands to the button to unbutton it. Once you did you slide his jeans and underwear down at the same time putting it with his shirt. You grabbed his dick and started rubbing it kissing the tip. You wrapped your lips around his dick and started going up and down sucking and slurping. He grabbed the back of your hair and pushed you down further making his dick hit the back of your throat. You grabbed his hips and started bobbing your head going faster then he was making you. He pulled you up with a pop after you did that. He kissed you and flipped you on your back. He ripped your hospital gown and underwear before going down in between your legs. He buried his head in your pussy and started licking. He had no mercy as you were a moaning mess above him. He grabbed your boob and held you down. You grabbed his hair pushing your hips further to him.

"I'm close." You said. As you said that he put his finger on your clit and started to rub really fast. This sent you over the edge. You pushed your head into the pillow and moaned really loud. "Holy shit." You said breathing hard. He came up kissing you.

"Are you ready?" He asked putting his tip at your entrance. You just shook your head in response. He pushed into you slowly making you both moan. He let you adjust before he started moving. He looked you in the eyes as he slowly pushed in and out of you. He moved one of your legs over his shoulder hitting you at a different angle. It made you throw your head back.

"Look at me." He said going faster. Your head shot back up and looked at him. You grabbed his face rubbing it as he made love to you. He started pounding into you after a minute of going at a steady pace. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the pressure building up in your stomach. It felt so good having him fill you up. He rubbed your clit as he continued his murderous pace. "I'm close handsome." You said kissing him.

"Cum with me." He said. He thrusted a few more times before you felt him cum. This sent you over the edge and you came trembling. You wanted to pull away when he didn't stop slamming into you but you couldnt. You screamed as he slammed into you staying there for a second before pulling out completely. He dropped down beside you pulling you closer.

"I love you Scott Mccall." You said snuggling into him.

"I love you too Y/N." He said pulling the blanket over both of you.

I'm sorry if it's bad I tried my best.

#scott mccall smut #teen wolf smut #smut #multifandom smut

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wordscorrupt · 6 years

Note

#3 and #18 please and thank you 💜❤️

Here’s #3: “Shhh, I know it hurts, I know.”

Once again, went overboard. Oh whale.

It was late at night and Tony was busy fiddling around with the schematics for Rhodey’s new legs. He worked to the beat of the rock music that blared from his speakers, occasionally sipping from a coffee-stained mug that he almost sure he had been using as a pencil holder last week.

Between the music and the numbers, figures, and ideas running through his mind at whirlwind speed, it was hard for anything else to penetrate his mind.

Except for Peter.

Tony would every now and then wonder how the kid was doing. He was on the tail end of his patrol as midnight came around and from the updates that Friday was giving him, the kid was having an uneventful night.

That was until Friday gave him the most recent update.

“Boss, I’m detecting critically high heat readings surrounding Peter’s suit.”

Apparently, his kid had now decided to throw himself into the fires of Mordor.

Or rather into an apartment building that had been caught on fire, Tony realized ten minutes later as he flew overhead the burning building ordering Friday to direct him towards Peter.

He crashed through a bedroom window a few moments later and thankfully didn’t have to search too long for his kid. It wasn’t too hard to take notice of the blue and red-clad kid that was curled up on the floor unconscious with flames licking at his skin.

“Damn it, Peter.” Tony cursed as he hoisted the kid into his arms, Peter’s head flopping back.

“I got you, bud.” Tony murmured, as he situated the kid more comfortably in his arms.

He had already directed his other suits to start contaminating and extinguishing the fire, leaving little room for him to feel guilty about not saving any other people that were stuck in the fire.

He’d later learn that Peter had been able to get everybody out before he collapsed due to a large amount of smoke he had inhaled.

Tony raced back towards the compound, instructing Friday to keep him updated on Peter’s vitals and to send an urgent report to the doctors in the medbay. By the time they reached there, the doctors and nurses on staff were anxiously awaiting their arrival.

Tony gently laid Peter on the bed before backing away to get out of his suit. In that time, the nurses had removed Peter’s suit and were busy slapping heart monitors to his chest and getting an oxygen mask situated on his face while a doctor listened to his lungs.

While the medical staff communicated to each other in their own jargon, Tony squeezed, or rather pushed his way, to the head of the bed and gently smoothed back Peter’s curls from his forehead, his hand getting covered in ash. He took notice of the small burns that scattered Peter’s face and the black ash that circled around his mouth and nose.

“Come on, kiddo. Open those eyes for us, bud.” Tony urged the kid, pressing his lips to Peter’s forehead. He glanced back up and his eyes scanned over the rest of the kid’s body, noticing that his injuries only got worse.

Peter’s torso and limbs were marred with bright red, swollen burns that glistened in the light. Blisters had already formed while some of the skin had started to peel away, exposing the raw layer of skin beneath.

Tony swallowed heavily, starting to pray that his kid remained unconscious instead, just to ease his suffering, as he watched the nurses started to drape cold towels over Peter’s burns.

Things never worked in his favor though as Peter started to become more alert.

Tony tried his best to placate the kid as he started to whither around, whimpering. “It’s okay, Peter. You’re okay, bud.”

“H-hurts.” Peter cried, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as he opened them, gazing up at Tony.

“Shhh. I know, it hurts. I know, kiddo.” Tony murmured, thumbs reaching out to wipe away at the tears, careful not to aggravate any of the burns.

Tony was about to lean down to press another kiss to kid’s head when one of the doctors stepped in, pushing Tony out of the way and shined a light into Peter’s eyes while trying to gauge his level of consciousness by asking him a series of questions.

“What’s your name?”

“Mister Stark!” Peter ignored the doctor and his eyes desperately searched out for his mentor.

“Eyes up here.” The doctor tried in vain to get his patient to focus on him but Peter had other ideas in mind. Tony pushed his way back to Peter’s side and leaned down, stroking the kid’s curls. The stress that built up in Peter’s shoulders from Tony’s disappearance immediately vanished the instant Tony appearance once again in his line of view.

“I’m here, kiddo. But you need to listen to the doctor. Be a good spider-baby and answer his questions, okay?”

Peter managed a small nod and his eyes hesitantly traveled back up to the doctor who started questioning him again. Peter answered each one, slowly with his voice cracking every few seconds and with a cough that rattled his entire body.

A few minutes later, the doctor concluded that Peter was alert of his surroundings and briefly remembered the events that transpired that night.

Tony took the doctor’s place at the head of the bed once he moved away and tried to keep Peter’s attention on him as the staff worked on his burns. Tony knew that Peter’s powers would speed up the healing time for his burns, but the process was not going to be easy.

Even with the cocktail of pain medications that were coursing through Peter’s veins via IVs, Tony had to still spend hours comforting the kid as he sobbed his way through the nurses cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging up his mix of first and second-degree burns.

Hours later, Tony glanced at the clock as he finally took a seat next to Peter’s bed, his body depleted of all the adrenaline that had been built up.

3:08 a.m.

Peter was asleep, head lolled to the side the oxygen mask still pressed against his nose and mouth. His breathing was the top concern for the doctors and numerous x-rays and scans were taken to calculate any damage that might have occurred to his lungs.

The burns on his face didn’t require any extensive treatment and didn’t need to be covered up so they were an unforgiving sight as Tony gazed into Peter’s face while his fingers played around with the kid’s curls.

As his eyes momentarily drifted to Peter’s chest, taking in the slow, uneven rise and fall of his chest, he glanced at the white bandages that peeked out beneath Peter’s gown. If luck was on their side, they could be removed within the next three days, the doctor had told him.

Tony sighed, thinking back to that conversation or really any other conversation he was forced to have with these doctors.

He had to remind himself that bottom line, Peter was going to be okay. This could have been worse. Much worse…

No, stop thinking about worse scenarios. He thought to himself.

He had enough nightmares pertaining to Peter being injured and he didn’t desire for any more. He forced himself to push away all the dreadful thoughts trying to invade his mind and turned his mind towards his tablet instead, working on adding in upgrades to Peter’s suit to make it completely flame resistant.

Other than the beeping coming from the heart monitor and wheezing coming from Peter, silence surrounds Tony for almost an hour as he worked through the upgrades.

When he finally noticed that his movements are becoming sluggish, evidence of the exhaustion running through his body, Tony allows himself to lean back against his chair for a moment and before he knows it, darkness overtakes him.

The first thing that registered in Peter’s mind when he woke up was the throbbing pain that resonated throughout his body.

No thank you. Peter decided as he willed himself to fall back asleep which was hard thanks to the snoring that was coming from next to him.

“Mister Stark,” Peter cracked out, wincing as pain pricked at his throat.

God his mouth was dry.

Peter saw a glass of water on the table next to him and reached out, quickly realized he couldn’t move his arm out with pain radiating throughout his entire limb. Peter let out a choking sob at the painful sensation and not a second later Tony was shooting up from his seat.

Tony’s eyes darted around until they landed on Peter and he leaned in closer.

“Shh, you’re okay, bud,” Tony murmured, gently pushing back Peter’s hair away while his other hand reached towards the nurse’s button.

“H’rts.”

“We just have to increase your pain medicine, kiddo, and you’ll be fine.” Tony explained and a moment later the door to his room opened and Tony’s eyes drifted towards it. “See, the nurse is here, buddy and she’s gonna get the meds going again.”

“’ood ones?”

Tony chuckled, his thumb stroking Peter’s forehead softly. “Yeah, spider-baby. The really good meds.”

The nurse came closer, greeting herself before checking the machines that Peter was hooked up to and replaces his bag of pain medication.

She then checks him over—asking questions similar to the doctor from earlier, makes him point out his pain level on a chart of smiley faces (the frowny expression with tears means ‘worst possible pain’ and the smiling expression means ‘no pain’ the nurse had explained and Peter could practically hear Tony rolling his eyes) and gets a set of vitals on him.

She then pulls his blanket off and unhooks his gown from his shoulders exposing his chest before grabbing a stethoscope and presses it to his chest. She instructs him to take a deep breath which turns out to be harder that Peter thought it would be. He inhales and a series of harsh coughs come out when he tries to exhale. He sees Tony fidgeting in worry from his side view and feels Tony lay a comforting hand on the top of his head.

However, the nurse gives them both a reassuring look.

“That’s okay, Peter. Let it all out. Your lungs are actually sounding better.”

She takes a few moments to listen to his heart, seeming to be in agreement as to what she hears before tugging his gown back up and tucking the blankets back around him, being mindful of the bandages.

Tony waits until the nurse leaves before turning back to Peter. He takes note that new pain medication was already starting to take effect as Peter’s eyelids were starting to droop.

“Sleep, Peter. You need all the rest you can get, bud.” Tony starts to run his fingers through Peter’s hair once more, knowing that it was one of the few things that lulled Peter to sleep.

Peter gazes up at him, eyes unfocused and says one thing. “M’sorry.”

Tony sighs, taking a seat back down in chair before leaning over, hand never leaving Peter’s curls.

He makes sure Peter is looking at him before saying, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, bud. We just got taught a hard lesson on making sure the suit is more flame resistant.”

Its Peter turn to sigh and he mumbles out, “Not mad?”

Tony rolls his eyes before shaking his head. “You saved over thirty people in a burning apartment building, Peter. I don’t know how I could ever be mad at you about that, kiddo.”

“D’nt like it when m’hurt,” Peter points out.

“True, but it’s a part of being a superhero, buddy. No one gets out of this business unscathed, kiddo. It’s my job to make sure its just a little bit easier for you.”

Peter’s lips curl up into a smile and meanwhile, a fond expression settles over Tony’s face. They bask in the silence for a few moments before Tony interrupts.

“Now, enough sappiness. My heart can only take so much before it shuts down” He reaches for the blankets and pulls them up a little higher, settling them just beneath Peter’s chin. “You have to get some rest, especially since Happy’s bringing Aunt May over in the afternoon. And trust me, she’s not happy.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.

#iron dad #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #whump #hurt/comfort #fluff #Anonymous

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summonhouse · 2 years

Note

your...ttime loop?? can you explain this sounds so interesting!

/pos /nm /gen curious :O !!!

OK I promise it is NOT a good thing that happened to me and theres gonna be a lot of details here thatll make ppl think less of me but its not like i. care so. DRUG USE, unreality, and intense trauma below. please dont judge me for this because i promise im doing this enough already for the both of us and then some

SO on a recent vacation i went on (if you noticed that i was offline for a good week) it was a Bad Situation where i kept. being fed drugs (dont ask) and i got. super super cross faded took a Big Fat Nasty Rip off a vape for the first time ever and reality broke down into a million pieces before me. my first realization was that nothing was real and i began to interpret the world as a video game- my family was there and they kept repeating the same words, actions, and phrases over and over again, despite my attempts to break out of the cycle. they kept making exactly the same movements, i couldnt feel my body, my chest (lungs and heart) hurt more than i could ever ever describe, i was utterly detached from the physical realm except for the burning hotter than ive ever experienced (and ive dumped boiling water on my hand before) hotter than i ever thought a person COULD experience. i was on a lake at the time (BAD TIME) and the waves were all clone shaped repeated stamps, wind moving broke me apart i was just essence in a spot, and when i realized it was all a game i saw the LED make up of the world, a close up on the little lights making up every image.

i had to climb up stairs to get back into the cabin i was staying at which, predictably given i was trembling horribly and unable to stand upright was, uh. bad. i kept seeing myeslf going up the stairs, seeing myself fall, and then returning to consciousness a few steps below- and it kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating. i kept saying over and over again, im not well, im scared, it hurts, over and over again. when i finally got into bed it really wasnt any better... my family was there, but they kept ignoring me. my body hurt so so so much, i couldnt tell when i was talking and when i wasnt, i kept thinking things and my family kept responding. i tried to touch my face but either i couldnt move my hands or i couldnt feel touch. at times i remember screaming desperately for anyone to pay attention to me- my sister just told me to stop mumbling. i was certain i was dying, i couldnt feel my heart beat, i couldnt breath, and my family kept ignoring me even as i begged them to stay with me, because things kept repeating- id see things happening, then something weird would happen that tipped me off to it being fake, and then id sober up to a few minutes in the past, and then id make a few more minutes progress before it happened again, and again, and again. i kept checking my phone (the first time i did it i was afraid of texting anything weird but i had to see if people were online, so i kept saying i think outloud "im good, i can be good") and seeing only like 3 minutes had passed when in my mind id gone through loops which lasted hours to me and wailing in anguish when i realized.

eventually i went to sleep, and i woke up entirely fine. when i asked my family what had happened, because i wasnt sure what was in my head and what had physically occurred, they told me nothing had happened and continue to gaslight me to this day about anything having occurred.

it was a really important lesson to me, i realized no one will ever help me, so i have to help myself. and of course drug use is bad and if i ever use drugs itll be around people i trust. please, please, please do not ever do drugs. if you have no reason so you think youre immune to abuse, youre a bastard and i fucking hate you for treating something so serious so flippantly. and if you have a reason to escape reality, please, im begging you, seek help, i know its trite but this cannot be the way to deal with it. it is not fun, it is not cool, and the worst case scenario can be so so so much worse than you could ever imagine

and im sorry, by the way, if any of my friends have noticed me being especially absent or manic or strange lately. the experience still haunts me, i havent been all together since then. i dont have time for anyone who will fuck with me, my threshold for strain is impossibly low right now

#ask

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pigstepmp3-moved · 4 years

Note

dear duckling

i missed you as well. im sorry my absence had such a negative impact on you.

to answer that first question. every single situation is different.

and the other question, yes, i have been in your situation. i think everyone has been at some point in their lives. we all love and need to be loved so differently, of course its going to cause some riffs. thats what i love about mankind so much, every single person is so, so individual. when you first grasp that, it can feel so lonely and cold. but your individuality is yours, and only yours. you can share that with anyone you want to. it's all yours.

her name was emmeline. she was shorter than me, her hair was a beautiful blonde that i can only describe as sunshine. really, i can only describe her as sunshine. she was my best friend, i was in love with her.

i was cruel to her, really. i'd ditch her to hang out with arrows, i was rude, i pulled her pigtails and pinched and poked. because i knew she'd always be there at the end of the day. she'd be there when i needed her, with open arms and a smile on her face.

one day, she was consoling me after a freak accident. she held me together, id been shattered for two seconds before she taped me back together with the swiftness of hermes. and it hit me, oh did it hit me. my heart shattered, i couldnt breathe. i had treated my best friend and the love of my life as if she was disposable. i sobbed, i choked, i apologized until my face was blue. for hurting her, for treating her like less than she was. and she said it was okay. she was gentle with me, she didnt hate me, she was too forgiving. she'd never leave me.

and she didnt, for a few more years. till she moved away. and we lost touch, sadly.

truthfully, i didnt think about her often after we lost touch. once a month, if that.

then i'd moved, and somehow, we both ended up volunteering for the same organization. it was horribly awkward. we brushed shoulders, shared awkward hellos, but nothing more. and i'll tell you, it hurt. it hurt like nothing ive ever known. i did not know this emmeline. she had interests i didnt know of, she had stories id never heard. she was a new version of herself, that i didnt know.

a few months later, i had to move due to some personal issues. not too far, but far enough that i couldnt be a part of that organization anymore. and then, i didnt know her again. that was okay. again, i didnt think about her for years.

and then suddenly, one day, i did. i thought about her all day. and then the next day, the next week, the next month, until i had thought about her every second of the day for a year. day or night, awake or dreaming, consciously or subconsciously. i caught myself making a birthday wish to know her again.

so one day, i wrote a letter to her. i poured my heart and soul into that letter. and i sent it off. even if she didnt reply, it was amazing to get that off of my chest. i didnt expect a response, i wasnt even sure if she still lived at that address anymore.

but hell if she didnt! the letter fell at my feet, jumped into my shaky hands. i was fucking elated. i read it with weepy eyes, so unbelievably happy that i had a crumb of who she was now. i wrote back, she wrote back, we talked for months. and then she flew out to the city to see me.

would ya believe me if i told you we've been together ever since?

i hope you do, because its the truth. we're older now, of course, but she's still the embodiment of sunshine. she got way too stoned with me the other day when i hadnt stopped by sooner.

now, back to what i said in the beginning. every situation like that is different. emmeline and i, we were only kids when i was that way to her. and we're older now, her and i both know that what went down was a learning experience, and i was a traumatized child who didnt know what was good for me. neither of us have negative feelings towards our younger selves. do i regret how i was to her? of course! but it doesn't consume me. because thats not who we are anymore.

sometimes things cant be mended. and thats okay. i think the advice i can give is, the both of you will have to accept that any outcome is possible, but dont hope for a reconnection. hope for growth in your individuality, and work towards that before you try again. sometimes you're connected with someone at the wrong time, just so you can grow and meet them again when youre both better, older. oh, honey, i know it hurts. but youre so, so young. you have years to let this relationship unfold. id say move on, to the best of your ability. take it slow, or take it abruptly, whatever will work better for you. dont force closure, itll never work when the wound is still so fresh. meet new people, i know thats hard with whats going on now, but im serious. invest in yourself before you try to invest in this relationship anymore. and dont do nothing. find things to do. i know im saying this to a depressed teenager, but i mean it, you need to keep yourself busy, give yourselves things to look forward to. you're going to be okay, my love.

if she was more than a best friend, the way emmeline was more than a best friend to me, it might be harder to do this. but itll be okay. your first love is supposed to hurt, but it shouldnt kill you.

i hope any of this helped you. if you have more questions, i'll be up for a couple more hours. ill try to answer faster this time.

love, marjorie.

i wouldnt necessarily say it was a negative impact, having you not around, but its definitely very nice to hear from you. and im very glad youre back! you have a very comforting way of words.

im very glad that things worked out between you and emmeline in the end. you sharing that whole story really means a lot to me. it makes it a lot easier for me to relate and understand the lesson youre trying to teach me, i guess. (sorry im not able to give a very eloquent response, my brain doesnt allow me to be good at responses).

i really hope that me and my friend can be like you and emmeline and that we can reconnect someday. ive always felt like she was my platonic soulmate, and i still feel that way. ive been doing my best to accept that this could very well be permanent and that i might not talk to her again, and sometimes its easier to deal with that than other times. its been very much a rollercoaster. i try to let myself just feel things as they come and i try not to force myself to be okay, but its hard. i try to focus on myself and i try not to think about her, but its very difficult. i have made new friends since then, though. and i like to think that im handling things a little better than i was a few weeks ago, and i like to hope that itll get easier soon. but i do my best to just hope to get through each day instead of hoping for things to magically get good. its hard to not do that, though. and its hard to focus on other things, but ive been doing as best as i can. i do know that i plan on sending my friend a letter like you did, because i didnt really get a chance to apologize to her like i want to, and i figure a letter is the safest bet - that way theres less pressure for her to respond or even acknowledge that she read it because she can just pretend like it got lost in the mail or something, yknow?

thank you for all of this. this was a very helpful message. i suppose the only question i can think of right now is what made you gravitate towards me? what made you decide to take me in and start giving me advice and everything? dont get me wrong, im appreciative that you chose me and you chose now, but ive been very curious about that

#eden.txt #anonymous #marjorie tag #long post /

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onlyonecanbeking · 7 years

Text

I Promise

( What would happen if Damien was able to create his own body? Energy attracts to energy, and Damien finds himself face to face with Dark, the man he brought back to life. Roleplay by @onlyonecanbeking and @the-good-mayor )

ASD: Dark walked deeper into the greenery, the picture frame against his inner elbow as he let the peace and relief gently fall upon him like an autumn leaf. Alone, with the picture of the colonel there beside him, he could only think of the events that transpired to create this world and life all over again. The friends that perhaps he had destroyed by digging too deep. He cursed the fact he had gone to Poker Night at all.

But then, an itch. There in the base of his scalp, blooming from within that nagged at him. Distant words melting together...'I promise... I promise...' in murmurs he couldnt grasp. They swarmed him, they suffocated him, he stopped along the stone pathway and simply... Felt this discomfort. And suddenly, an explosion of neon blue from within him, creating intense pain as his reality crackled and spasmed, the red overcome by teal as his color was swallowed by that blue, bending down.

Pain. Images. Faces. Words. This will fix everything, I promise. Just let me in. I promise.

His skin was blue, his eyes blue, he choked on the air as Damien swarmed his mind and body with a strange pulsating energy. And as quickly as it had begun... It stopped. The agony, the surge, the cracking of his very soul, it ended as if it hadn't started. Dark gasped in precious air and stood, wide eyes glancing around, alone in the garden.

TGM: Damien wasn't sure what had directed him here, to this lovely garden under the stars. The main pulse that attracted him had faded, but he still felt the residual feelings as if they teemed under his skin, only sated as he approached the entrance to the garden. His perception was clearer now, as he pushed through the doors, quietly taking in the scene once again. The flowers were lovely, more splendid than he had remembered, and the trees that dipped their branches over the cobbled paths gave the place a relaxed aura. The cold air bit at his face, his fingers, but he didn't mind.

With his hands in the pockets of his dress pants he began to stroll down the path, allowing instinct to guide him. He kept up the appearance of leisure, as if it truly was just a relaxing stroll and not some call from an unseen force; until, of course, he spotted another figure on the path.

Damien knew this person, he could tell even before he was close enough to see their face. Approaching slowly, carefully, he attempted to minimize the sound of his shoes clicking against the stones; but as he came closer, the light seemed to grow around them, and so their face was revealed. He was speechless, unable to breathe, and it surely showed in his face. After a moment of shock, a moment to allow himself to be surprised, he smiled, chuckled even.

"It's been so long, I almost forgot what I look like. Hello, old friend."

ASD: He lay his hand against his chest, feeling the pattern of his heartbeat as it echoed against his ribs. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he didn't want it to happen again. It had hurt, almost a saddening pain that had transported him beyond, to a newer Manor, an earlier time. And now back, he faced that ache beneath starlight. Stepping then.. He heard it only faintly. He assumed it was Mel arriving to check up on him, so he lifted back up to a straighter stance, rocking his neck to adjust himself, appear presentable, not be so weak. He turned himself in order to meet her arrival, but.. It wasn't a her at all.

Blue illuminated. It hit his eyes and immediately he froze as if ice had slithered into his veins. Bright red eyes were round in shock, as he simply stared at the face so similar to his own. The smile... The presence of him. He didn't move as he looked upon this apparition. Wonderful, he was going crazy. The longer he surrounded himself with his past, the more real it became. But this felt different. The ringing in his head remained and a feeling in his chest was undeniable. And then, the man spoke, as if murmuring from a veil of time. The past talking to the present. Dark jerked. This was no hallucination.

"How.."

The words left him breathlessly, as he felt his knees shake. Fifteen years he had shoved him away. Fifteen years.

"How the hell did you get here?"

TGM: He removed his hands from his pockets, feeling the need to rest them on something but having no surface with which to do so. He was uncomfortable without his cane, but he would manage; instead, he clasped them together, and allowed his gaze to wander to the sky in thought.

“Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. I was drawn here, by some energy that I can’t really identify.”

He looked back at Dark, the shaken shell of a man, and gave him a wry smile.

“Well, couldn’t anyways. Now that I’m here, I’d guess that you are what attracted me to this place? I can only speculate, really.”

His eyes wandered once again, this time to the surrounding flora. He was attempting to distract himself from the past whilst recounting it, a hopeless task. His brow furrowed in discomfort, his lips taking on the slightest frown.

“One moment, I was nothing, just a consciousness drowning in pure nothingness, and the next? I am myself again, standing at the base of the stairs of this magnificent manor.”

He became starry-eyed, almost lost in thought as he dreamed of the wonders to come. And yet again, he smiled at the grey man that stood before him.

“You preserved it well! Almost as lovely as the last time I was here, if not more so in its own special way… But what, may I ask, are you doing here?”

ASD: His eyes simply roamed themselves across Damien, taking in every detail. The crisp black suit. The fanned white undershirt. The bowtie. He was still just as trimmed and refined as he recalled Mayor to be. Something in him was almost desperately comforted by his appearance. He had this horrid need to approach the man who had been a guidance and friend to him for so long... He wanted to grasp his shoulders and simply admire him. And yet, something held him back.

Even in conversation Dark could hardly believe it. He slowly shook his head, mouth moving but forming no words. Damien had been gone... Lost to the Void. A fragment shunned by its host. But now he was here, in a physical body smiling at him like kin. He found his words, but they came slowly.

"The.. The Manor. Well I never left. After everyone was gone, and the Colonel left in search I.. I stayed. To care for it. I..."

He lifted a hand, still dumbfounded. He ran his hand across his scalp, mouth agape.

"Damien I... Its been 15 years..."

He shook his head again, falling silent.

TGM: “Fifteen years…”

Time lost much of its meaning in the Void, especially when you were nothing but a consciousness, a mind without a body, a soul adrift in the wind… Damien had known that a great deal of time had passed, he’d felt it, but now that there was an actual number to tack onto his misery, he had to take a moment, simply to process.

“That’s… a number, certainly. Too many years spent alone, if you ask me, are you keeping in good company? I can’t imagine that there’s much activity here.”

He waved a hand vaguely towards the outer edge of the garden, towards the Void. He was stalling, collecting himself and his words, trying to know from appearances alone what Dark had been through in the nearly two decades they had been apart.

“Yes, fifteen years… I suppose it never worked out, then, our plans of revenge?”

Another wry smile.

“Fifteen years of having nothing but yourself, you tend to think a lot. I can’t say I’ve forgiven what happened to us, to the Colonel, to everyone… but I’m no longer angry, nor resentful. I’m content, I suppose.”

ASD: A friend. A friend was standing in front of him, and despite the amount of time that had separated the two, Dark almost felt like he was stepping off right where the two had left off. He felt like nothing had been lost between the two of them. The same affection and protectiveness was housed there in Dark, somewhere tucked away that he had not experienced in quite a long time. He almost smiled, more a faint grin in comparison, and slid his hands into his front pockets, seeming to relax and accept that indeed, Damien was here in front of him.

"I've been hosting a few events here and there."

He murmured, of course hinting to the fact that humans and figments alike were constantly flooding each room. But, that grin of his faded, much like the moments of expression, at the mention of failure to everything that had been planned. The very reason Dark had been lifted from the curse of death, the very reason he walked on two legs today. He swallowed down spit that suddenly tasted sour.

"Well. I'm glad that you've reached a level of peace."

TGM: Though it was subtly conveyed, Damien could tell that he had struck a chord with Dark. In a flurry of rapid thought he analyzed Dark’s words, and then his own, attempting to uncover what upset his old friend; contentedness, or something of that vein, with his place in the world, with his stakes in revenge? In fifteen years, had Dark not had the chance to move on? No matter. Clearly it was a sore subject, and there was no good direction the conversation could travel. So Damien dropped it.

He smiled, nodded slightly, dismissing the old conversation without using words.

“But enough about me. So long in this manor, and hosting events for residents of the Void— as chaotic as those being tend to be— you must have some stories to tell? Please, don’t let me dominate the conversation.”

ASD: As gracious as ever… it almost aggravated Dark on just how similar Damien remained from the last time they had ever conversed. The last time he had seen Damien, the mayor had been walking away with Selene, to provide comfort and protection as he always seemed prepared to do. He always was so selfless that way, and that was ultimately what killed him. His willingness to sacrifice himself. But, Dark let that thought pass swiftly, so that he wouldn’t start building an anger towards something he could have never controlled.

He rocked in his shoes for a moment, nodding and training his eyes past Damien’s head and instead towards the Manor windows, where he could see bodies moving past in the hallways and rooms that were always bustling with life.

“The stories are in the hundreds, Damien. It would take another fifteen years to be able to tell you them all in length.”

He spoke warmly, perhaps the only time he had truly shared a calm and gentle emotion with anyone in the Manor in a long, long time. Even his own children had never experienced this type of patience with him. Damien had broken into a soft spot in his heart, black as charcoal but still beating all the same.

“But it should please you that multiple figments have found their home here. Many of Mark’s old partnerships and figments come here. Wilford, Author, The Host, they’re all here. Humans have found a safe haven in this place away from the Void dimensions that swallowed it. It has taken quite a bit to keep this place alive, some energy, but I would not let this be drowned into darkness before I let myself be ruined.”

He swept a hand up towards the grand estate fondly.

“It houses much pain, perhaps. Memories I want to let go. But it is the very place that began everything. I would be damned to release all the artifacts that are burned into my mind…. Ah, that reminds me. Your cane. You’ll find that tucked in my office. I've kept a careful eye on it, it's as clean as ever."

TGM: He was glad that Dark had been able to keep busy, to but the old house to good use, so much so that Damien’s eyes seemed to glow in his delight. The whole area, in fact, seemed to light up, as if in response to his excitement.

“That’s wonderful! I’m glad that you’ve been keeping in good company, and that so many can find a home here. It gives this place a new purpose, and a entirely new connotation.”

At the mention of his cane, he paused, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. He wasn’t sure if he should have been surprised that Dark had kept one of his prized possessions safe and well-maintained, but whether it was to be expected or not, Damien was still grateful.

“I… Thank you, Dark, I truly appreciate it. You’re in no rush to return it to me, of course, I’d rather spend our time catching up, as it were.”

His eyes wandered down the path, and he shifted his weight from foot to foot, dropping his former air of formality.

“Is there perhaps a bench we could sit on, or somewhere inside where we could continue talking? Standing here so stiffly I feel as if we’re in a business meeting, not just two friends making conversation.”

ASD: Dark twisted himself in order to bring his gaze down the twisting stone path, looking down the rows of tinted roses, buried lilies, all with a shade of blue from the rays of moonlight dancing against the closing petals. Still his mind churned with gears across his scalp, scrambling for the one thing that could help him grasp that this was truly happening. He searched for the sanity that he had left in him, but it was in such few and small numbers. Gritting his teeth, he slowly nodded his head, sliding his hands into his front pockets and rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

“It would develop a few… questions if I brought you in with me into the Manor.”

He murmured under his breath, and swept a hand out down the cobblestone, to a small oak bench that seemed suitable to rest and relax. He paused to let the cold breeze from the autumn air rush past his ears, before speaking again as he began to walk forward.

“Many people here do not know you exist, Damien. It would bring quite a shock to see someone such as yourself enter into the place with me. I hate to ask this of you of course, friend, but you must never speak of our history to others.”

He sighed, each step bringing him closer to the bench, each step feeling almost painful as he seemed to be trying to push Damien away again. It felt like a return from the past, but there was little he could do. “

As far as we are concerned, you are simply another figment to Mark’s regiment. We have no history together and have no friendship.”

TGM: Damien thought about the request for a long moment, passively observing as Dark maneuvered to a nearby bench. On one hand he was slightly hurt that Dark would choose to hide him away, repress the history between them, but on the other hand he understood. In the battle that waged in Damien’s mind, it was that understanding, and the fact that he cared for his friend, that won out in the end.

“That... does make sense, yes. You always were a very private person, even before...”

He trailed off, and waved one of his hands as if to dismiss the thought, to dismiss the tragedy of the past.

“I’m sure my influence didn’t help with that. Nor Celine’s for that matter... We were all rather secretive, weren’t we?”

Now chuckling, he began to follow behind Dark, making his way to the bench.

“Ah, well, it’s in the past. And you have my word, Dark, I will keep our past in the past. Though, now that I think about it... We may need to fabricate some false background for me, to explain my great absence?”

Again he looked off, off into the distant Void, shielded by countless breathtaking arrangements of flowers and trees that made up the wonderful garden. Damien scratched at the stubble at his jaw, considering the situation to come. “

You mentioned that several other figments of Mark’s were here, no? It might be thought odd that I arrived so much later than the rest of them, and I wouldn’t want to arouse suspicion by not having my story straight. Ah, shall we?”

Turning back to face Dark, he gestured to the bench behind them, a silent offer to sit. Aside from plots and alibis there was still conversation to be made, stories to be told, history to be recounted and recorded in memory before it was locked away. Despite his initial discomfort, Damien looked forward to whatever was to come.

ASD: “I suppose that would be the best.”

Dark’s return was uncertain and perhaps remorseful. He had already experienced long years of forcing Damien into the background, claiming his own body. Here he was again, requesting Damien to deny his identity and again be pushed into a place that he had no choice in. It hurt in Dark’s chest, somehow, to think of such facts, but it was a hurt that didn’t stem from sadness. It was a hurt that was created solely for the reason that this could potentially place turmoil on his artificial past.

“I am delighted to hear that you’re willing to work with me. As far as my mind can perceive, it would be best for you to take the appearance of one of Mark’s figments. So, why you would be arriving so late is….”

Dark screwed his brows down, pausing as he slowly turned himself, resting down against the old wood of the bench. Lost in thought, he maintained silence for a moment or two, before finally letting his gravely tone return.

“Hmm. It would have to be deemed that you are new. A new developed figment that Mark didn’t need until recent. Perhaps you house his… his… um… I hardly believe anyone has any strict guidance to his civility and refinement. That are things that people would believe you have a grasp on. After all, you are…”

Dark motioned with his hand towards the spotless design of Damien’s dress.

“Certainly kept well. Of course, this would… cause for the issue of pretending we do not know each other well.”

TGM: Nodding along to the other man’s ponderings, Damien stared out at the garden, caught up in his own plans and visions. He would be able to pretend as if he was new, of course, as the comings and goings of Figments in general, not to mention those in Dark’s domain, were quite foreign to him. At Dark’s proposal of emotional range he couldn’t help but chuckle, and to straighten his bow tie in a display of faux haughtiness.

“Civility and refinement... I would think I could pull that off. If it wouldn’t be any trouble, though, I would like to claim hope as well, as my own? Because... Here I am, sitting with you, my old friend, caught up in an in impossible scenario and faced with infinite trials of patience and wills... and hope is all I can seem to feel.”

A pause, and then a brisk nod of agreement; he turned back to look Dark in the eye.

“Pretending as if I do not know you may be an issue at first, I agree, but I assure you I will adapt myself to the role. And who knows, maybe something good will come of it?”

He waved his hand in the air wistfully, as if hoping to share his exact vision of the future with his friend.

“It will be like meeting for the first time, a clean slate, if you will; we can get to know each other all over again. We'll be able to move on, to make new memories and have new experiences, without the shadows of the past to hold us back. We'll learn, and we'll grow, and we'll be better for it, I think.”

ASD:

Something in Dark seemed to... shift, a certain knowing of something from deep within him at the fact that Damien seem prepared to simply forget everything that had occurred, to shove away the past that had haunted and ruined everything that Dark was today. It was his past that had made him, his past that had remolded him and turned him into this floating, emotionless thing that was being pupeteered by two people in his mind. Damien wished to forget all that? Had he forgotten everything he had done to the one standing in front of him?

"I hardly believe I can be better."

His voice was now crisp, tense, nagging on the potential edge of aggression as every blanketed emotion came back to the surface.

"Considering the things you and Celine did caused me to become this way. Unable to change."

He chuckled but it was hollow, brisking himself to the side to train his gaze far off, brows knit down and rocking his jaw back and forth. He did not wish to get into an argument, not now, but things were already flooding his mind and introducing things he wanted to say for years upon years. He did not hold them back.

"How charming of you to be willing to adapt to something as minimal as identity. I no longer have my own name, Damien. I no longer have my own feelings. My very existence is guided by iron hands that control everything I think and do. I am incapable of giving a damn for my own children. And you caused this."

TGM:

Dark was right, and Damien knew this. Because of the former’s… unique, state of existence, he was incapable of change. His actions were bound by the thoughts of a few, his emotions by a few more; he was not his own man, not in any aspect of himself, and Damien understood this. And despite everything that he had done in order to protect Dark from the horrors of the Void, to shelter him from the nightmare that was resurrection, everything that had been done to save his dear friend, it was still Damien’s fault. "Identity is something that I do not take lightly, Dark, yours or mine." His tone was serious, no longer wistfully dreaming of the future. "It is with the utmost respect to this identity, to this life that you have made for yourself— yourself! You built this without me— that I choose to resign our past. You would like for me to keep our history under wraps; I am respecting this wish. And it is in the spirit of that respect that I must sincerely apologize, for all of the pain that I have caused you." Hesitantly, almost afraid of the emotions that he knew were bubbling under his friend's skin, Damien reached out to grasp Dark's shoulder in some gesture of comfort, of reassurance. "It’s been fifteen years… of living in a cruel and heartless Void, under the thumbs of so many that do not care, and that would not have you care either; I cannot imagine what you have been through, but I accept that it is my fault. And I apologize."

ASD: He could feel Damien's grasp there on his shoulder, and for a daunting moment he mentally cringed to the touch. The touch of someone who had once meant so much to him, who had given him so much, a future, home, only for it all to be taken away by the hand of cruelty. But he did not move himself, or deny Damien's touch, but merely dropped his head towards his lap, slowly shaking his head.

"I appreciate your sentiment. But apologies do nothing for me."

He leaned back in his seat, swinging one leg up in order to rest an ankle against the cap of his knee, sighing openly. A hand lifted to tentatively brush away Damien's fingers from his suit, in a supposedly gentle fashion but hurried to desire his own space again. Time and pain had done that to him, desperately clutching onto the only body he had left.

"I have been apologized to hundreds of times for pains endured. Little has been of benefit. But... I suppose I owe you an apology as well. My supression and banishment of your influence to me surely caused for your own turmoil. Of course small fragments of you remain but.. you were blasted away into the Void. You did not deserve that. But the whispering, the talking, the arguments, the contradictions. They were driving me mad."

TGM: He nodded solemnly at Dark’s words, still not letting go of the almost mournful expression. Upon being brushed away, Damien’s hand fell limp in his lap. He took on a similar posture, one of frazzled relaxation, as he considered what Dark was saying. “I am willing to forgive you so long as you are able to forgi— well, no. I shouldn’t and I don’t expect forgiveness to come quite that easily, and it was frankly unethical that I attempt to bargain with you in such a way. But nevertheless, your apology is appreciated and you have my forgiveness.” He paused for a long moment, idly turning his gaze between the garden, and Dark, the garden, Dark… “Well, now that I have my story straight and our confessions have been given and received, shall we move on, and enjoy this beautiful night?”

ASD: He sighed again, but this time, the stress that had weight itself in his breath relaxed again, nodding his head in agreement to the idea of simply letting bygones be bygones. Yes, he had held onto grudges for over fifteen years, and perhaps he had made plans to deliver suffering to those who had ruined him, but Damien here sitting before him offering solace and asking for forgiveness, he knew he did not have it in him to refuse. Damien was one of his greatest friends, if he could still consider himself capable of friendship.

"That sounds like a terrific plan, Damien."

#darkiplier #who killed markiplier #darkiplier roleplay #darkiplier x damien

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ask-antihero-phoenix-blog · 7 years

Text

The End Game

How long had it been since he could see, feel anything but his skin being torn apart and reformed as fire cackled deep in his ears, as his organs twisted into ash and dust within their replacements? Hours? Days? Years? He knew it was long enough that he could pretend his skin was numb, the fire a constant to his every waking moment, a buzzing, like a swarm of all his fears, all his woes, stingers pointed to target his very being. It was endless, it was timeless. He was powerless. Vague images swirled around him, faces he thought he knew, but hoped he didn't, screaming to warn them to run away, to kill him if they were going to stay, all drowned out by the burning flames.He sobbed at the broken burning image of his strongest friend, and a little girl he cherished. Memories flashed into his reality, a waking nightmare as the faces he adored melded into the faces of his past. Suddenly, he was not in New Rome, but in a field, golden , gentle breeze swaying his auburn locks as tears ran down his pudgy cheeks, tiny fists beating at the man's chest, screaming out for help that never came. And all at once, the man's face melted away, but his actions did not stop, the pain did not lesson. ‘You can be our perfect ‘altar boy’, can't you? Our sacrifice to Her, and a sacrifice to me. You deserve it you wretched little monster, skin blackened by the fire itself. You need to be cleansed.’ Allen screamed until he couldnt, body limp as the face of yet another loved one melded into his worst nightmare. Bile rose in his throat as he muttered the words over and over, becoming a bellowing scream, “All priests will be cleansed” And everything went dark. It was eons before he was allowed the gift of reality back, consumed in the memories he could never organize and never erase, his curse, his suffering on replay in front of him, sensations multiplied, as he was led into losing focus, losing hold of the little control he had. The voices inside his head roared in deafening anger for reasons unknown, at least until he felt the chill in the air. He could take no relief in that fact, however, as his finally clearing vision was clouded in smoke, lungs filling with black unbreathable air, like a thick blanket, and body filling with panic as his weak lungs tried desperately to work properly, hands reaching to his throat, hot tears running down his face. He thrashed in his column of smoke, praying no one else was affected, that he wasn't causing this too. Through the smoke came a red glow, blurred by the blinding tears in Allens eyes. All he could hear was familiar mumbling and he reached out ‘jason’. Thought the fires had receded in the city, focused around just the column of fire, a blast shot out of his hand much to his horror, heart stopping as it nailed Kick in the shoulder, making him falter, ‘no, please-’ It was too late, the act of aggression being seen as a direct line to plan B. Kick fired, and Allen felt his body rack with shock, choking stopping as his heart did, a small last measure of defense explosion bursting from his lifeless body and knocking kick to the ground, slamming him into a building wall. “Jason!” Lawrence wailed brokenly as he watched his lover fall, body limp as the crowd was torn between that spectacle and what now looked like a meteor cracking to the street, dead center of the city. Huttman has managed to just barely vault himself up, grappling hook secured against the lamppost as he caught Jason, crashing into the ground a few feet down, wind knocked out of him for a moment before he was frantically looking over Jason's bruised and swollen face. LAwrence sat up despite the screaming in his back and let out a choked scream of panic, “Jason, please, oh god- Bug!” He cried, looking over the melted shambles of Jason's metal arm and leg, casualties of the fire, Lawrence could've been been coerced to praying to whatever god drove Jason's hacking cough out of his body, accompanied with a groan that meant ot he still alive and kicking. LAwrence cradled his body to his chest, feeling Jason's good arm reach around to grip at Lawrence's suit, “Allen-” He wheezed softly, and Lawrence finally noticed the commotion behind him. Allen felt the impact rattle his skeleton, shaking his frame as his eyes snapped open, taking a deep breath of clean air, that was all he needed to throw his arms out, seeing a blurry figure running at him, a flash of blue. “venefica saepi!” Allen cried out, voice a rasp as a what looked like a purple orb formed around him with an audible whoosh of air. Alfred crashed into the force field, banging on it with his fists as Allen's body started to glow again, starting at the mark on his stomach as he stood up on shaky legs, stumbling forward to lean on the side of the orb Alfred was pounding on. He every breath ratted in his chest, he was a wreck, parts of his skin still working on reforming. Alfred was screaming, screaming for him to drop the field as Allen's eyes began to glow. “Stop...Alfred, stop it!” He screamed, shutting the blonde up, “For once shut up and listen to me!” He coughed raggedly, capturing the blonde's attention . “You have to go, You have to take everyone and go, I don't have time, and I don't know how far I can limit the blast-” “The blast!? What in fuck are you talking about-” “Listen to me, Alfred.” Allen silenced him as the heat grew in his shield, making him dizzy, “Do this for me?” He asked, and the look he cast up at his lover was heart wrenching, full of mixed emotions, adoration, fear, pain, longing, enough to catch Alfred off guard As Allen looked up at Alfred his body shook, not from pain but fear. He pressed his palms to the edges of the field, taking in Alfred face, committing it to memory he would never have again. He could see the crowd gathering closer, saw his darling Peter, still so young and bright, tears staining his young cheeks and he looked to allen with uncertainty, fear, and a childish need for comfort. But was it really so childish? After all, all Allen wanted was to fall into Alfreds arm and sleep, to hear him say it would all be alright, like he always did. The best he could have, the best he would ever have was Alfred hands moving, pressing their palms together, his eyes empty of much emotion as he confusedly felt tears running down his face. Allen own face was long from being dry as he saw kick being held tight, alive and surrounded by rubble, a ragged sob running through Allen as he saw only a small glimpse at the havoc he had caused, the suffering, the pain he had only kept to himself having finally lashed out on everyone he loved. He truly wasn't meant to love. Everyone he loved suffered and died, everything he touched wilted. Allen eyes scanned over the crowd of solomon supers, some of them understanding already what Allen had to do. “Alfred… repair the city and take care of Peter don't you ever let him get hurt. Him, Jason, Lawrence, all these damn kid are they best hope we got. It's time for me to retire anyway, i'm too old to be running around in the body of a teen, how many years has it been, how many lives have I had?” He was rambling, he knew it, but he couldn't stop. What could you possibly do when all your life you bit your tongue, only to have so much to say right at the end. “Take Peter and run, get as many people out of the center as possible, promise me.” Alfred's hands tightened to fists, but the resolve in Allens eyes was once he knew he couldn't fight. “I'll be okay.” Allen promised, the only lie he could ever tell to his partner. Alfred tried to found some hope in Allen integrity, after all, he couldn't tell a lie, and he had to know what he was doing. Alfred hissed in pain as the field became scalinding to the touch, jerking his hands back and feeling his heart wrench at Allens sad smile. “Alfred, thank you. For the best time of my life. I have lived through timelines again and again and never have I been able to find as much peace as you've given me. I love you. I'll always love you, Baby Blue. “ Allen felt his consciousness slipping, he would have to do this soon. “Tell Peter, jason, Lawrence, Viktor, Ollie tell them I loved them, that I would've ….i want to see them grow and…” Allen hung his head, “And that I'm so sorry, tell them all I'm sorry.” He Fell to his knees and looked up at Alfred, “Go...Go now Alfred.” Allen turned and caught Lawrence's eye, a subtle nod passing between the two as inexplicable tears clouded Lawrence’s eyes. He scooped up Jason’s weakened body, holding him carefully, pressed to his chest bridal style, ignoring the screaming in his own back. “Lawrence..Lawrence, wh-whats happening. “ Jason rasped, looking up at his partner and wishing he could reach up to wipe his tears away. “We’re leaving.” Lawrence said simply, starting off at a jog, all he could manage at the moment, stumbling at first. “ “What! No!” Jason coughed, but didn't stop his protests, “Law, we have to go back, he's still back there, everyone else is still back there-” “And they won't be if they don't leave too. “ Lawrence said, shoving all turmoil he may have had deep down so he could focus on what mattered; Jason's safety. “What...No, Lawrence-” Kick managed to tilt his head and see the commotion, certain supers running off, Alfred slowly turning away from Allen and scooping Peter up despite his screaming, Allen's last request of him bouncing around his head ‘don't..don't let him see, baby blue.’ ‘They Are ocean blue, princess...i'll say i love you when I see you next.’ He could still hear Allen's laugh now, a broke and tired thing, somehow still the most genuine laugh he’d ever heard from the smaller male. Jason was screaming at Lawrence as best he could, and Lawrence's ignored him the whole time, eventually letting his own tears fall as he felt the heat grow in the middle of the city, picking up the pace. Allen slumped against the orb wall, sniffling quietly. He wanted to held, to wanted to go home and crawl into bed with his lover, he wanted to see the old dogs at the shelter. He wanted to live. For the first time in forever..he wanted to live. Allen laughed weakly, bitterly as his vision went red, the pain consuming his body slowly now welcome as the fire burned, engulfing him in his own personal snow globe of Hell. “All these years, all those times I tried to kick the bucket, and the one time it matters..I don't want to die.” Allen laughed louder, turning into a hacking cough as he fell against the broken street. “You win, Father Sakroy, the monster is cleansed. I'll see you in hell.’ Allen fed the flames, feeling his skin tear and rip and he arched and screamed into a void no one would hear, his body degrading faster than he could regenerate, inside out. Memories flashed by his eyes, but they were not the torture he had endured for weeks, the blurred faces of his molesters, tormentors, abusers. He saw the face of his mother, smiling and calm, his brother, sly grin and all. Alfred, Victor, Peter, Jason, LAwrence, Oliver, smiling, laughing, Jul, Alice, Shiro, all the people he’d met , the roles they played, big and small, that made it that much more fulfilling to have lived through this second life...That made it so much harder to let go. He hoped somewhere deep in his heart that...they were as affected by him as he them, that he had made a difference. Intimacy, Love, joy, laughter, he felt so many emoitonas at once, so many he never thought he'd get to have. Despite the way he shrieked, he smiled in the end, the flames doing what they were meant to do. Destroy. Once Allen's body was useless, once his heart finally stopped, the magic seal was broken, the flames exploded, sending buildings to the ground around him, no civilians in its wake. Peter shrieked, a call of Allen's name as Alfred pressed the child's face into his chest, running as fast as he could without hurting the boy in his arms, only stopping with he knew it would be safe to return. He set Peter down, ignore whoever or whatever had been in the wake of the explosion, “Stay.” He ordered the bawling boy, running back and seeing the burning remains of the city's center, and the slowly healing source in the middle. Alfred's heart leapt as he saw that Allen’s physical form was intact, that meant he could heal, he was sure of it. He skidded to a stop in front of the boy, staring at the mangled mess, broken cracking in his body as the last of Allen's dissipating magic tried to mend his body before it gave out. Alfred took off his jacket and laid it over Allen's waist. His body was nothing new to alfred, but he knew Allen cared somewhat about public decency. His hands shook as he felt for a pulse, something, anything to tell him he was alive. Alfred jolted and his eyes watered as he felt Allen's skin, that alone was enough to tell him what he needed. It was ice cold, unlike all of Allen's other regeneration periods, similar to comas, where his skin ran hot, like an intense fever. Alfred dropped to his knees and shook his head, holding Allen close and shaking, not with sadness, fear, or grief, but with laughter. “Stop playing around, this isn't funny… fuck...stop playing..” Alfred's laughter became strained as he looked over the smaller male's face, “stop...You fucking liar...you dirty liar you said you be okay, you promised me! You liar! I held up my end of the deal!” Alfred held Allen close and cried into the crook of the dead man's neck, “You..you could've burned this whole city down...you're too nice, you could have ran away with me instead. I should have known someone like you would pull something like this. I'll..i'll take care of you…” He mumbled, rocking back and forth as gripped him tighter, staring at nothing at all, blue eyes watching as Allen's powers faded, only the mark on his stomach left as a reminder. The sparse bits of fire crackled, almost laughing at the two, all that remained of the Phoenix now. I dont have the will to edit this man. Thank you all for the journey, and for the fun times. ^^ this was my favroite au to be in.

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thenameisbinx · 5 years

Text

Blame Monday

ive been wanting to write down this entry since tuesday but i was busy trying to regulate my thoughts. Writing has always been my point of solace where in i find peace of mind and a completely different outlet as to talking to my friends about what im going through. i’ve set to making this entry in defining my roles and the effect of them. however, i ended up realizing its too complicated to describe.

so let’s start it like this instead.

Facade - a false, superficial, or artificial appearance or effect

OK. let’s not waste anytime by letting people see who you really are. Smile for the audience and don’t show that your hurt, in pain, or depressed. Keep moving and show that you’re fine. be in everyone’s good graces. please them like a slave. adapt, change for them, plead for their acceptance. All the while, bury your thoughts of reality within you. you’ll get to that stage where youre always wanted.

Reality bites. you keep wearing a mask for too long that you forget how to be weak, to be vulnerable. i learned that word when i was seven. one of the words you learn at that age where words originating from the french language. it was along the lines of “rendezvous” words or english classes that tries to teach different sounds of words that has literal sounding letters. When the teacher told us what it means, i always thought it was acting. Facade is a character that you want to play but not in a movie, but in your life. it dawned on me that ive been doing that awhile. since i could remember. Then i keep just playing along.

Before, i would bring the sadness of my day by showing to the people that i’m ok. That it doesnt hurt. My mom pulled my hair and complained how thick it was, even if i was sitting still not wanting her to try to do my hair. called me, “worthless” and “incompetent”. instead of crying, i’d laugh and play around with some classmates the moment i get to school. Or the time that my sister made fun of how ugly i was in front of her friends, that i’m just an orphan. I just talked back and said, “Well, at least im not fat.” Then, there was this one time that my dad scolded me for trying to play in my undergarments, i wasnt naked but i was wearing a thick white top under my uniform and some thick shorts thats long enough to touch my knee under my skirt, like my friends were doing at school. i wore three layers everyday and wasnt allowed to take it off till i go home but i saw some kids doing it. took a layer off and played. i was 6. Dad dragged me out of my school yard and slapped me right in front of the guard. Don’t get me started with my brother. let’s just say, he never made me feel like im important in the family. he’s the only person that treats me like im nothing and no one until now. like my opinions didnt matter, or as if what i do doesnt have any relevance. yet, i’m the jolly one. the funny one. the energetic one. the loud one. the push over. easy definition, the masochist. Harsh but partially true.

Now, implications. still, verbal cues. like, “lazy”, or “stupid”. in the family, its more verbal but emotional responses. Mostly they cuss, or scream or yell. If i reciprocate the same but not intentionally, i still get scolded. i cant talk back because im just the help. i’m obligated to do what they want me to. Even if im tired from work. Even if i just got dumped. Even if my mind is going through some stuff.

what you dont know. i go through these every day and i don’t bring it at work or when i go out with “friends”. I’ll go to work with a smile on my face like nothing bad ever happened to my life. i’d put that big smile on my face and just laugh things out. Remember just the little good things that happened and seemingly move on, but i don’t. its slowly sinking into my chest. Subconsciously weeping like a baby, consciously aware that during a meeting i’d want to cry just because i couldnt keep it in a box. i’d clench my fist as if im waiting for my palms to bleed because it crate wasn’t chained shut. it oozes when you can’t regulate.

Obedient - submissive to the restraint or command of authority

the words “dont” and “do” are basic commands to me. any question that has “did” are immediate doubt on me or even the start of the sentence “have you” makes me quiver already. i was taught to obey a form of authority. Parents, older siblings, uncles, aunties, prefects, teachers, apparently, anyone who is older. so when someone says, “believe me” or “did you know”, i immediately am in awe. i believe them. the fun fact is stuck in my head. i pass down the knowledge or experience. There’s another word for obedience, gullible.

i was once asked by my brother to go through trash when i was a kid. because he threw something he shouldnt. i was asked to do my sister’s homework because my mom overheard her asking me to do so. i was told by my so called friends to ask people for their numbers for them for their friendship in exchange. I have reached the point that i feel guilty when im not doing what people ask me to.

imagine working. imagine dating. imagine meeting new people. i can paint a picture but it’s too painful. Subconsciously, i thought i have removed that side of me. unfortunately, reflecting on the past few days, NOPE. i thought my defensive stature in every decision ive made was and the only way to take off that obedience or gullible card. Looks like i have been. being conditioned this way from the very beginning makes it seem impossible to take off. Obedience equals to gullibility. Refusal equals to guilt.

my dad comes home drunk one time, asked me to give him his gun to point at my brother. i said no, he shook me. no one else stopped me but i obeyed. i talked to my sister’s friends once. she told me never to talk to them and beat me up till i had bruises on my stomach. i wanted to cry when one of her friends talked to me. so i ran away. i wasn’t allowed to sleep until i memorized multiplication set of 9. it was 3AM, i woke up on the bathroom toilet. my mom woke up and asked me to recite it. closed the door and told me to recite it till i said the right answers. there’s consequences if i dont follow. i took that till adulthood.

i have guilt if i don’t do what i was asked to. more guilt if i really decide not to. it consumes me till i finally give in. i feel regretful right after. then, i completely try to forget. that never happened. ever tried telling your boss no? i learned how to say no last year. i had multiple speeches dedicated to me with people saying, “Do you even know how to say no? do you even hear thank you?” i feel obligated to do what people want. i feel obligated to give what people want or need without being asked to. let’s stop there. i sound stupid.

Strength - legal, logical, or moral force; degree of potency of effect or of concentration

People see what i want them to see. Facade comes into this picture. i’m always strong. can never show my weakness. if i do, i lose. if i don’t, i lose internally. i’ve been playing the supergirl card all my life. issue is, i’m always alone. always the savior never the saved.

Superhero syndrome. ever heard that song Superman?

It may sound absurd but don't be naive Even Heroes have the right to bleed I may be disturbed but won't you concede Even Heroes have the right to dream It's not easy to be me

my whole life revolves three things; work, home, friends. i always wanted to be alone, but i don’t survive it much. never felt wanted anywhere, even if its family or friends. then, work came. loved it because it was the only place the NEEDED me. but seems that i wear my cape there everyday. to the point that i couldnt be clark kent there either. always strong, never vulnerable.

been saying lately, im tired of being strong. then Monday came. That’s that for strength, it’s pretty self explanatory on my side. it’s too literal of a section so i hope this would suffice. for the last of the entry.

Tired - drained of strength and energy

Trigger : work

Action : Resignation

Symptoms : Nausea, shaking hands and knees, vomiting, clouded vision, crying, Lack of sleep, loss of appetite, lack of motivation, heavy breathing, sleep paralysis, sleep apnea

Diagnosis : Unknown

Working Impression : Panic Anxiety Disorder

i’ve defined some of my roles. a glimpse of my mind and soul but to the people i’ll be send a link of this too, i bet you only know some. some, would even say they never knew. you know, i dont share my feeling or these heavy stories. seemed irrelevant. one time, 1st grade. i shared a problem about the family to a friend. This ‘friend’ made it seem too petty to the point i avoided sharing problems since then. i feel like any problem i have has no value to others. so i keep it in. just me. maybe a few blank pages. some ink. mostly tears. by myself. on my own.

when i feel bad, or depressed when i was a kid. i would cry faintly inside my closet. come out after an hour or two. wiping tears of my face. i got caught once, by my dad. i just said, nope i was just checking my closet. i acted as if what he said before that point was ok. i step out when i feel weird and want to cry. ive learned how to cry heavily without showing an expression or even in a quiet manner. Congrats to me, i brought that till adulthood.

Until Monday. i tried to put up my mask. but couldnt. i tried to be strong. but couldnt. i tried to obey. but couldnt. i remember asking my boss recently, can i be selfish? all my walls broke down in one day. all my optimism. my positivity. and i thought that i can do it. what people saw of me, they couldnt recognize me.

i showed me. the weak one. couldnt even get myself to fake it. fake being strong, fake happiness, no mask. i couldnt even try. i was just done. even basing on what ive written on this entry, getting tired wouldnt be an option just yet. i didnt even talk about love or difficulties. i only got to write down instances. i was just done pretending.

since that day, i couldnt regulate. i associated almost everything and get anxious about everything. seeing the exit to my work makes me tense. walking to the building tightens my chest. getting inside makes me palpitate. claustrophobic. i dont usually breathe heavy but the doctor said breathing exercises would help. SOMETIMES it does. but not everytime.

it took years to learn how to regulate these thoughts that i experience daily and i feel like i have to go through two decades again to learn how. i didnt lose myself, thats for sure. but i feel like im not strong enough to stay in one place anymore. to have the same people in my life anymore. i want to leave. i want to disappear.

you know what i did after i broke down on my boss? i sat in a Starbucks branch in Molito. and starred out the window for two hours. spaced out. even my friends knew i dont do that. i felt like i died and im just the undead walking around doing my daily routine.

why am i writing this? it’s 2:35AM. nearly sleepy by the way. i’m writing this for me to realize something. i already just did. i just realized that what people knew of me, wasn’t me. what you see and experience of me now, is the true me and i dont like it. i want to be wild binx on good days. bea when im home. bianca when im at work. looks like i can’t be that for a while.

to those im sending this link to, i hope you read the whole thing. so you really know where i’m at. youre worried or concerned yea? well, here i am. here it is. i’m sorry im dumping my indifference this way. i’m sorry that im burdening you of my petty problems. i’m sorry i cant be myself. i’m sorry i cant be that person you knew.

blame Monday.

#anxitey #define me #monday #mental breakdown

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