#god im. in pain. suffering and crying even

[moving-to-dreamwinged]

need him to hold me. and Grab my hand and intertwine our fingers while i bury my face in the crook of his neck. Or something. sigh.. (longing, pining, yearning, fantasizing, dreaming)

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 749: The last Straight Road*

(NdT.: same pun Kinaka always makes with his name and the word for straight road)

Pag 1

1: I....

3: Imaizumi-san!!

4: Go- good work!!

Good work!!

You were taking a long time for this lap

Pag 2

1: Yes, teh, I got a fl-fl-flat- my bike!!

Yessir!!

2: It's the tire!!

4: Only tires can get a flat

Ah- damn, yes, that's right

Right!!

6: I thought something like this might have happened, so I brought these

Replacement tubes, tire levers, and a pump. Use them

Pag 3

2: This is unusual!! I never thought Imaizumi-san was the attentive type – is it just for us!?

Yeah!! I thought first and second years were just not important to him....

3: You don't want to use the,?

We'll use them, thank you so much!!

4: You saved us, teh....!!

That's true

6: Ah, uhm... but..... Imaizumi-san

Earlier you said that

7: Sugimoto-san won't come”, what did you mean?

Pag 4

1: He retired

Pag 5

1: He's still displayed on the board, but

3: There's still time until midnight

If Sugimoto-kun....

4: Please leave the possibility open in case Sugimoto-kun wants to come back!!

5: Onoda insisted

6: Re... tired.....

Sugi..... moto-san....

Pag 6

1: He used up all his stamina and mental strength in his fight against Danchiku, and he was defeated

2: You didn't notice because you've been on the course the whole time

4: Ah... actually, when it got dark, Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san passed us various times... teh

Huh!? That? So at that time-!?

5: You have no time to talk about unimportant things

As soon as you're done with the repairs, run, first years

6: Soon

Pag 7

1: Waa, ye-yes, teh, thank you for the tools

Yeah, there's still 40km

2: If we join our strengths....

Don't cooperate

5: Teh!?

7: From now on, you can't allow yourselves to run like friends

8: Huh....

Our “buddies” stickers.....!?

You have to fight

Pag 8

1: And win the last spot to be an Inter High member!!

Pag 9

1: Fa.... ight....

2: Against.... Kinaka-kun

3: Against.... Rokudai

4: 35km left!!

Gooo!! Kinakaa, Rokudaii!!

Do your best...!!

5: I feel like they'll be able to run the 1000km!!

Amazing!

Ah, but there was no distance between them just now?

Pag 10

1: Fight....

2: The spot as a regular in the two-times national champion, Sohoku....

3: I can't take it by just being friendly....!!

4: And also

5: There's Sugimoto-san's wish!!

Pag 11

1: Wa- wait, please, Imaizumi-san

But.... if in this training camp the condition to become the sixth regular was to finish the 1000km first....

2: Then why did Sugimoto-san and Danchiku-san race!?

4: I came here to give you a message from Sugimoto

5: I think, I think it's necessary, you know

Sohoku is a team that connect and support each other

6: Just like during our first year, you, Naruko, and Onoda, connected your wishes and aimed for the goal

7: And last year Kaburagi ran with Aoyagi-san and carried the team until the mountains on the third day

8: So I think we need it

9: Our third year Inter High members

Pag 12

1: Definitely need a “first year”!!

3: Even if he knew he was making his own situation worse, he thought about the best shape for the team would be

4: He accepted it, and fought

Pag 13

1: For the fifth place

3: Among the first years, those two are left, I look forward to see what they do!!

That's too much food

4: Danchiku probably understood it, too

That's why he fought with all his strength

6: Now you two have to run with the weight of those expectations on your back!!

7: Fight, against your opponent and against yourself!! Use all your strength

Pag 14

1: And pull to yourself that last jersey!!

2: Straaa-

Pag 15

1: Straight roaaad!!

2: - traight!!

3: …. ngh

Ugh.....

4: Kinaka-kun.....

5: Don't cry, Rokudai!!

Pag 16

1: What are you doing, oi!! I'll leave you behind like this!! I'll tear you off!!

If you give up, then it's lucky for me!!

2: My goal has always been the Inter High jersey!!

To get back at those senpai who made fun of me!!

3: To show it to the Onii-san who taught me how to ride bikes!!

So, for that....

6: So I'm telling you not to cry!!

Pag 17

1: But, Kinaka-kun....

It's that your “Straitgh road”, wasn't fast at all....!!

4: You knee? It's your knee, right?

Since when? Since a while ago?

5: Since when we were at about 800km

Pag 18

1: It's a race, Rokudai

2: You should have told me, teh

I didn't notice, teh!!

3: I'm such an incapable former manager, teh....

4: Since when I lost to you in the first years' race

6: I've been thinking that I would definitely not lose the next time we race

7: Even though the truth is that I don't really care about that anymore

So, once again...

Pag 19

1: It's a race, Rokudai!!

3: Let's do it, Rokudai!!

I can't, teh

4: Race me, pedal!!

I don't want to, teh....

5: Fight me!!

I won't pedal, teh

Pag 20

1: Because, if I fight you now, Kinaka-kun, I'll end up winning, teh

Pag 22

1: With that kindness of yours, support our senpai during the Inter High

[magnoliamyrrh]

.

[orcelito]

i am Now crying for a 6th time over trigun maximum

knives... making sure vash survives... and using the last of his life to create new growth

Meryl and Milly back again, but this time as Broadcasters, pressuring the 6 months disappeared Vash into showing up on TV

and vash, hair basically completely black, no more angel powers left in him, is now just... living his life. having fun again.

He's Vash the Stampede, and his ticket to the future is blank

it got to me. it really did.

[pepprs]

i like uh. literally cannot believe what is happening is still happening btw.pain and suffering (update omg i hit tag limit CRINGE but i think i was done anyway lol)

[sick-as-a-dog]

Literally dealing with a nasty infection thats taking up almost half a breast, had some decent painkillers for the agony that comes with a huge infection....until my fucking stepsis steals like around 5-7 of them and had the nerve to relentlessly pester me to give her 2 more. PLUS (according to the humans) its somehow my fault that she stole them. So now only 2 fucking days in and theres only 2 left. Literally rn im just like

[thecherrygod]

i think that if someone was to say "it feels as if noises are gonna murder me today" you wouldnt ask them to do something like sharpen a knife, and yet.

[deaddovedecadence]

(Guess which fucker is suffering from his uterus again? ME! Bevcucase I am suffering you get to hear how I think each member of the batfam (sibs only cause im mad at bruce rn for something he did in another story)would deal with you aggressively swearing at the Universe)

*Transmasc Reader on their period headcanons*

Dick Grayson

“I am going to stab a motherfucker in the throat and sacrifice them to the sun god if means he’ll end my pain”

surprised af, looks at you like you’re crazy

mildy concerned that you’re muttering under your breath swearing vengeance at the universe for giving you a period (apparently the uterus thing is fine but the period thing isn’t?)

Eventually asks what’s wrong and when you tell him that everything hurts, he’s very much going ooh and calling up babs to ask for some help with managing your pain. Once that’s happened he takes you to his room because his mattress is heated and wraps himself around you for a nap

Jason Todd

“If one more person tests me I’m telling Damian that they pissed me off”

He’s surprised with the viciousness of your throat and then pissed when he realizes that you have his favorite hoodie

you have to give him all the puppy eyes in the world to convince him that you need it and it smells like him and that makes it safe.

He understands better then a lot of people because his working girls complain to him when they see him.

helps your make even more creative threats because it’s funny to watch the horror on dick’s face when he hears them.

Cassandra Cain

“I’m going to rip out my uterus and feed it to the ground”

Dies laughing to herself at the absolute violence you threaten yourself with too make the pain stop then scolds you for threatening to hurt yourself

you explain to her that you aren’t actually going to hurt yourself and that you’re just in pain and severely dysphoric.

To combat this, Cass calls you brother (well signs it aggressively) while she cuddles with you in Dick’s bed (it’s the best bed okay!)

Tim Drake

“I hate my everyone and everything”

Finds you crying, and swearing at your body in front of the mirror. Immediately goes into damage control mode, bundling you away from the mirror and calling bart, because Bart’’s also trans and ergo he might know how to help with your freak out.

Bart has to stop Tim from freaking out and very patiently explains to him that sometimes bouts of dysphoria happen and there is nothing that anyone can do about them. Tim ends up asking again if you want to start t and when you say no, he just sits with you on the ground while you come back to yourself

Duke Thomas

“Fuck these motherfucking cramps,”

As the only other trans person in the manor (though Duke is agender to your transmasc) you feel a special kind of bond with him. He makes you feel comfortable and safe when your skin is itchy and all you want to do is explode

Laughs at you swearing at your cramps, and offers you some aleve and a heat pad. The two of you watch an anime together and argue about ship wars. It’s great!

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

“I am going to rip out the universe’s entrails and give them to damian as a gift”*

Thinks that it’s perfectly reasonable to be angry at your body for failing you.

Makes you spar to get all of the anger that lives inside of you out. It’s very funny to watch the two of you. scream in different languages as you attempt to beat dummies into a pulp

He of everyone understands that it’s hard to keep control of anger and keeps you start to notice when your hold on it is fraying

*(the line that inspired everything)

[dark-and-kawaii]

ok but what if........ .. .... zevlor period sex

idk im in a mood

୨♡୧ Our Sweet Zevlor ୨♡୧

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I’m not going to lie I almost wasn’t able to do this for you anon *cries* because I damn near pressed the delete button by accident!! *sighs* I didn’t though thank god, I hope you enjoy xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Major Comfort | Blood | This Man Loves You

Zevlor is such a gentle soul, he’d be hesitant at first, his hesitation born out of genuine concern for your well being. He fears that engaging in such activities during your time of pain may add to your discomfort. Moreover, the sight of you bleeding fills him with sorrow, he despises seeing you struggle, that you bleed and there is nothing he can truly do to ease your suffering until the days have passed.

It’s the tears in your eyes and the way you beg for him that move him, prompting him to carefully position himself above you, his gaze filled with adoration. With tenderness, Zevlor enters your bloodied snatch, aiming to alleviate your cramps and satisfy your needs. Softly, he shushes you, assuring you that he is there for you and will do whatever it takes to provide comfort.

His hands caress your body, his touch filled with warmth and affection as his cock stretches and fills your aching pussy, his hips grinding slowly to ensure maximum pleasure as his tail wraps around your leg, the tip of it rubbing soothingly over your clit. Zevlor makes sure to thrust in and out of you in a slow and gentle fashion, his claws trailing down your body and his lips peppering kisses all over your skin.

The wetness from your arousal and the blood staining his shaft causes the tiefling to feel a strange pleasure, but he pushes that to the side, he wishes to satisfy your needs. Instead, his eyes lock on you, taking in the way your face contorts into expressions of bliss and how you pant and moan his name, “Zevy~”.

You bury your face into his chest, taking in his scent and relishing the heat that his body gives off, allowing it to warm you, “m’you’re so warm~, s-so good~”.

A purr rumbles in his throat as Zevlor presses his body flush against yours, his cock rubbing against your g spot, eliciting a cry of his name, "Z-z-Zevy~!".

With his cock deep inside you, Zevlor continues to gently thrust he keeps his face close to yours, whispering sweet words and nuzzling his face against yours while his tail flicks behind him.

The way your blood stains his cock causes him to feel a bit of shame, he is supposed to be caring for you, not taking pleasure from the blood that leaks from your cunt. He can’t help but feel terrible that he has become aroused by this whole situation. You’re so slick like this though, his cock sliding in and out with ease, it feels so so wonderful to be inside you during your period.

Your eyes flutter open and you notice his expression, one of confliction, a mixture of lust and sadness. With a smile, you reach up and cup his cheek, causing him to lean into your touch, his tail now brushing against your body.

"S’okay, Zevy, i-i-it doesn't hurt~." Your eyes never flutter close as he begins to thrust faster, a sign that he is starting to get lost in the pleasure. Small infernal curses leaving his lips

"You-you like it, I can see it, l-l-look at me." The tiefling does so, his eyes filled with need, "Y-you don't have to feel ashamed. M'love you Zevy, m'want to feel your cum in me.”

A deep moan escapes Zevlor as he grips your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. It feels so good to be inside you, even more so when he can feel his milky seed mixing with your blood, creating a sticky mess that is a sign of his love and devotion to you.

[hellsburners]

pain and suffering

summary: to which criminals run from the shadows, and the shadows run home to you. pairing: frank castle x male reader x matt murdock word count: 4k warnings: 18+ warning, unprotected s3x, dom!mattfrank, bottom!reader, double pen3tration, blowj0bs, mentions of violence a/n: i got this request like a whole month ago and im sorry to anon it took me a while to think of this

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit for frank & matt

The night air looms over Hell’s Kitchen. A normal person might hear the honking of cars and the loud chitchat of people in the street, but to a man like Daredevil, he hears everything. He hears Sally from down the street, crying as her husband comes home drunk, or Dominic, stealing another purse to pay for his brother’s medical bills. The city is not just a cluster of sounds for a man like the Devil, it’s a war cry. His city needs help, so he braces for the jump, a leap into the battlefield.

To him, pain and suffering is a saint. The pain of every hit, every jab, and every punch. To Matt Murdock, the pain of getting hit is like lashing for every sin he’s made. He is the fist of God, the guardian angel of the Kitchen, his suffering is the price for the safety of his people. So to him, yes, pain and suffering is the saint that guides him, the adrenaline to jump, to fight, to stand back up and fight again because he knows if he doesn’t, worse men will. 

He sits wounded on top of a building, the hanging laundry hiding him from plain sight. He pants, blood gushing from his lower rib. But then he smells it: gunpowder. The sound of clanking metal and rubber boots walking closer to him. He knows that smell, the smell of danger, the smell of bad news, the smell of The Punisher.

“They hit ya’ pretty bad tonight Red,” his rough voice roared across the building. He smells of blood, not his blood, but the blood of at least thirty other men. 

“I don’t need your help, Frank,” Matt said, wincing as he tried to stand. 

“I doubt that,” he was closer to Matt, he took the rear end of his rifle and pressed it to Matt’s wound, he cried out in pain. “See?”

“I don’t need any help from you.”

“That’s your problem, Red. You’re so self-righteous. You’re out here bleeding yourself to death thinking God sent you here on earth to be his punchin’ bag,'' he puts the rifle down, the metal butt hitting the floor. “You think your God can miraculously heal your wounds? The Devil ain’t no saint.” 

“And you’re any better?” Matt spat. “You wear that skull on your chest and you think that gives you the license to be a killer?” he licks his dried-up lips, the wounds weighing on him. “You’re a beast, Frank. A wild creature with no self-control, bloodthirsty, and—and inhumane.”

Frank was right, but Matt’s pride would never take any help from Frank Castle, he’s a murderer, a cold-blooded killer, and men like him have no place roaming the streets of New York. Matt tries to walk away from Frank, he could feel the blood drip into his waist, his head dizzy. Before he could even reach a meter away from Frank he feels the pull of the earth and drops into the cement floor, out cold. 

“Dumbass,” Frank spat.

—

To Frank Castle, pain and suffering is a weapon. 

Pain is the bullet to the head of a wife beater, a pedophile, a human trafficker, and any other demented fuck that helps in spreading crime in his city. He sniffs in the scent, it’s nauseating, the smell of garbage and piss, the smell of dead bodies piled in a heap for the cops to find. The blood pooled on his boots, painting them red. He reloads the gun, pulling on the lever that locks the bullet in the barrel, ready for the trigger. 

“Please, man. I have a wife and two kids,” the bald man begged. His shirt was soaked in blood, a bullet grazed his hip. He walks backward achingly, his back hitting the wall. “Fuck, man I swear I don't know anything ‘bout this! ”the man kneels in front of Frank, his hands together like he’s praying. 

Pain is the bullet that ends all suffering. 

Bang!

The man falls on the concrete, blood dripping out of his skull. Frank wipes the blood splatter on his face with his sleeve. He takes the pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. He grabs the man’s sleeve and pulls him into the heap. No loose ends. 

Frank takes his rifle and leaves. Taking the rooftops so the cops won’t see him. His body is sore, but it was never a hindrance. He sees a red blur across the building. The Devil himself, running from a bunch of men. Frank notices the Devil walking strangely, a hand on his left to cover a bleeding wound. 

He takes the sniper rifle and aims it at the four men searching for the masked vigilante. He reloads the rifle, and one by one the men drop dead. The Devil was clueless as to where the bullets came from. He walks over to the wounded man, lumped over the side of a rooftop wincing in pain. 

Frank had always admired the Devil’s determination, always standing back up after a fight, the line he wouldn’t cross, it amused Frank in a way. He liked to toy with it, always putting the red vigilante in positions where his moral code is tested. 

You know you’re one bad day away from becoming like me. 

Frank once told him, and he guessed it wasn’t true. Despite how hard the world hit him, he never crossed that line. That’s why when the Devil ended up face down on the concrete floor he took his body into his shoulder. Carrying his body to the only place he knew would understand the situation. To the person that knew the creed of pain and suffering. 

He stands in front of the wooden door, the door was locked. Not his first instinct to knock, because he knew he would always be let in. He knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked louder, banging on the door, the sounds echoing throughout the hallway.

“Jesus Christ, people will hear you,” you said, answering the door. 

— 

To you, pain and suffering is a curse. The curse that binds people to hospital beds for years, slowly rotting into the sheets as more and more medicine gets pumped into their veins. The curse that brings people into the emergency room, stabbed my knives, with broken knees, amputated fingers, and gunshot wounds through bone and muscle. 

You earn money from pain and suffering. Doctor’s fees from people you know can’t even afford it. You always wanted to give them pro-bono, but you weren't loaded like that. That’s why when injured vigilantes were involved, everyone in the New York underground knew your number. 

You had known people like Maya Lopez, Misty Knight, Ben Reilly, Ty Johnson, and Tandy Bowen alongside other masked heroes. That’s why when The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived at your door four months ago you didn’t second guess your decision to help him. To you, helping these people would absolve you of being complicit in the suffering of innocent people in the hospital. 

“Got your number from Spider-man, hope you don’t mind,” he said, sprawled on your kitchen table covered in blood. His muscular body contracted from the pain as you sewed his wounds shut. You never truly cared about forming connections with your clients, it was more of a get-patched-up-and-leave type of way. 

He would often flirt with you whenever he came by, his dimples forming under his mask whenever he smiled or laughed. “Don’t worry Doc’ I’m a big boy,” he said, smiling at you. The smile quickly faded when you dug into his skin to retrieve the bullets on his bicep, a groan leaving his lips. You tried not to think about it, but he's pretty cute. 

On one night, a man banged on your door, you rushed to meet a shadow drenched in blood as if it was raining blood from the sky, a white skull on his chest. His hoarse voice groaned as you took him into your kitchen. Multiple bullet wounds, and gashes on his chest, in your personal opinion a person with that many injuries would've ended up on the morgue. 

“Did you fall into a meat grinder? What the hell,” you said. You tried your best to patch him up but he needed some blood transfusions. 

“Check the bag,” he groaned. Inside were bags of blood from the hospital, all type O, what the fuck. 

He stayed in your house for two nights, you checked his vitals every hour to make sure he was still alive. This hasn’t happened before, you’ve never had a client that was on the brink of death. It was always some minor injury, but this man managed to wake up and stand after two days to leave. 

You found a bundle of one hundred dollar bills in your mailbox the next day. 

—

“Bring him to the couch,” you said. You took Matt’s body as Frank carried his legs, you took his limp body into the sofa, a deep wound on the torso, an easy fix for you at this point. It has been months since you first met the two men in your apartment. You’ve spent multiple nights helping them, in your apartment, or Matt’s, or Frank’s bunker. You were technically associated with them to the point that you know their real names. 

“The emergency kit is on the kitchen counter.” 

“Got it Doc,” Frank saluted, removing his trench coat and his bulletproof vest, his muscular form bulging through his black shirt. They reeked of blood, you could taste the iron on your tongue. 

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his head turning to the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he said, groaning through the pain. You cut his undershirt open, the wound gushing out blood. You took some gauze to soak the viscous liquid, making sure the clotting starts. 

“Sit your ass down, Red,” Frank ordered. You managed to sew the wound shut, you gave Matt some pain relievers as his eyes fell back into sleep. You let him rest for a bit, covering him in a fleece blanket. You walked towards Frank, a few cuts on his arms, he was already in the middle of sewing some of them before you helped. “Don’t worry about me, it’s nothin’”

“Make sure you don’t die in my kitchen this time,” you said, walking to the kitchen sink to rinse your bloodied hands. You opened your refrigerator to grab a drink. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Frank nods.

You took a cold beer from your fridge, the metal caps clanking on the floor. You handed him the bottle, he took a big swig like he was thirsty for water, some liquid falling from the corner of his lips. He sat on a wooden chair, legs spread, the hem of his shirt raising a bit to show a peak of his abdomen. 

Matt soon woke up. Much to your disagreement, taking a beer of his own. He took a seat in your dining area, topless with bandages around his torso. The three of you are looking at each other around the table. “So–what happened tonight?” you asked. 

Matt’s frown was deadset. Frank taking gulps of his second bottle of beer. You were taking sips of your bottle, looking at the heated tension between the two. It was annoyingly anxiety-inducing. “You know, I don’t know what’s the point of talking to you two—I’m a physician, not a therapist.” 

“You need to stay away from him,” Matt said, his lips a straight line. “He’s a dangerous person with nothing good going on for his pathetic life.”

“Boohoo! Little catholic boy here feels entitled about being god’s little bitch,” Frank spat. “Is that what you think bitch boy?”

“See? He’s an immature old fuck that thinks the world’s answer to violence is guns and bullets,” Matt said, downing his beer.

“He’s just using his lawyer bullshit on you,” Frank said.

You rolled your eyes, it’s always like this, them bickering. You downed the beer, the bitter taste running through your tongue. You set it down with a loud clunk. The two men halted their bickering. 

“I’m not taking sides but I think both of you are annoying cry babies that should just kiss and make out!” the two men frowned their brows. “You bicker like an old couple—the two of you need to suck it up because, at the end of the day, the two of you leave a trail of blood in this city that I clean!” you shouted.“You know how many people end up in the emergency room thanks to you two, I don’t even keep count of them anymore.”

Matt called for your name, to apologize or something, but you took another bottle of beer and gulped on the bubbly drink. Instead of talking you took his lips to yours, the bitter taste of his mouth shared with yours. His hands come to your neck, fingers wrapping around the flesh as his tongue meets yours. You smell his clean shampoo mixing with the alcohol, he smelled like a man who took hygiene seriously.

You pull back to walk towards Frank, bending down to kiss him, pressing on his shoulder with your hands to guide you. The bitter taste of both of your mouths intoxicates you. He grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling you in more. He smelled of cheap soap and gunpowder. You pulled away to catch them frozen, feet glued to the floor, aghast.

“See,” you rubbed your hands. “Not hard at all.” 

Frank was biting his lip chuckling, his fingers massaging his lip. He pulled you to his lap, kissing you harder, his hands falling to your ass. Your hands run through his dark hair, his stubble pricking your face. You moaned from the contact, Matt’s enhanced senses making the sound echo in his head. He hesitated but his groin turned to the noises you made. Frank’s lips fall to your neck, nibbling on the skin eliciting more lewd noises from you. 

“See this red?” he said. “This little slut likes it.”

“Play with his ear, he likes it,” Matt ordered. Frank hadn’t known that.

“He also likes it when I do this,” he pinches your nipples, and you shudder from the slight pain. The two men didn’t know that you had experiences of having sex with them on different occasions. “So you’re a little whore huh, you do this to all of your clients?”

“No—,” you gasped. “Just you two.”

Matt chuckled. Frank had set you on his lap so that you were facing Matt, his hands playing with both of your nipples as he left purple hickeys all over your neck. Matt had knelt in front of you palming your growing erection. The ache in your groin grows from the lack of release. Tonight these men offer you more pain and suffering but in ways that elicit nothing but pleasure. 

He takes your trousers off leaving you with nothing but your shirt, finally something to ease the pain. Matt stood to open his pants, his thick cock standing tall, the hairs neatly trimmed. “Take his dick inside your mouth,” Frank whispered, while he stretched your legs open so his fingers could tease your hole. He took his fingers to your mouth making it wet.

Matt’s hands ran through your hair, his tip teasing your swollen lips. As you took his length into your mouth, Frank's finger entered your hole curling inside drawing out muffled sounds from your mouth. You were quickly bent over by Frank, his head in between your ass cheeks licking and fingering your hole, while your head was bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock. 

Frank smacked your ass so hard it left a red print as he continued to toy with your rear. Matt groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Frank pulled you back with your hair, popping Matt’s cock out with a string of saliva. It was painful the way they carried you, but in some sick twist of events, it turned you on even more. 

“My turn,” Frank said, as he takes your mouth to his sex, you engulf his thick uncut cock, your nose hitting his unkempt hair taking in his scent. Matt bent down to toy with your hole, curling and stretching two fingers inside you stimulating your prostate. You were turning your lips as you sucked on Frank’s cock, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he grabbed onto your hair tightly. 

Matt stroked your cock as he moaned, eating you out with his wet tongue and playing with the rim of your hole. Frank took control of your mouth, fucking into it like you’re his sex toy, his cocking hitting the roof of your mouth at a constant speed. Frank could feel his climax coming so he pulls out leaving you a wet mess next to Matt. 

“Can I fuck you?” Matt asked. You nod, taking them into your bedroom. 

Frank undressed and took a seat on the small sofa chair in the corner of the room, stroking his hard cock. You were on all fours on the bed, facing Frank. His eyes glued to you as he stroked. Matt lubes your hole before slowly pressing his cock into your hole. You gasped as he sheathed into you. Frank smirked, this turned him on even more, his large arms contracting as he stroked his cock.

Matt started to fuck you slowly, his hips slapping your ass. He started to let out guttural moans, his hips becoming rigid as he gripped onto your waist, his nails digging into your skin. He bends down to kiss your neck, rutting into you, his hard thrusts ramming into you. “I’m close,” he moaned. He jerks your cock to the point that you yelp out, cum shooting out of your cock as he continues to jerk his hips before he emptied inside you, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum fills you. You two collapsed on the bed, his body weight on top of you. 

“Move over Red,” Frank said, looming over you as Matt moves over before Frank mounts you. Matt’s cum formed a slippery lube that made Frank’s cock ease its way as it thrusts. Your body was still weak from your high. He grabs onto your hair as he ruts into you, continuing his hard pace against your body. “You like that?” he said, stroking your sore cock back to hardness. 

“Ye–yes, fuck,” you moaned. 

Matt was at the edge of the bed, soothing your hair as he peppered kisses all over your face. The bed creaked as Frank humped you, veins popping across his arms as his grip on you tightened, you’re sure it would leave marks. He pulled out, leaving you to gasp from the sudden lack of fullness. He sits back on the headboard of your bed, legs sprawled as he gestures for you to ride him. You mount yourself on his hardness, sitting on his thick and hairy thighs. Matt sits on the edge of the bed, his erection coming back from the sight of you two. 

“Take it like a good boy,” Frank praises. You hold onto his chest as you feel the hardness enter you, some of Matt’s cum leaking out. You take Frank’s lips, you now realize how abrasive his stubble was. You move your hips around and around, Frank lets out curses here and there. He pulls your head back, littering your neck with more marks, his fingers find your nipples, teasing them to draw out more moans from you.

Franks sees Matt on the side, his hard already leaking precum just from watching you take Frank’s cock. He calls for Matt to come to you two, to join back in. You feel Matt’s fingertips on your skin, your body is now so filled with stimulation, his mere touch driving you wild. You feel his erection on your back, his lips attached to your shoulders. He takes his leaking cock and presses into your hole, the size alongside Frank’s was a tight fit, your breathing quickens from all the pressure. The two men made sure to guide you and praise you as you take both of their lengths. 

You cry out from the sensation. Frank takes your lips to stifle your cries, tears fall from your eyes as your tongues touch, and Matt inches to join your kiss. The three of you kiss into the pain, The two men slowly moving inside you. The pressure was so intense but the arousal overcame, your sex was so hard, leaking so much into Frank’s abdomen. They start to thrust, Matt could feel his sensitive frenulum rub on Frank’s, it made his eyes roll back, his senses overflowing. 

All of you reeked of sex, the sounds of slapping skin and wet tongues fighting for dominance against the grunts and moans. The constant rocking was making the bed hit the wall, the mattress moved as if there were an earthquake. You were all covered in sweat, hair sticking onto skin, Hands gripping the wooden headboard, fingertips roaming skin, and tongues lashing on each other. 

Everything felt like a blur to you, you were being rocked back and forth like a playground swing, your core sore from the fucking, and there were pairs of hands all over you touching your most sensitive spots. You could feel the climax, creeping into your body tingling your coccyx to the highest peak of your spine. You felt their erratic thrusts, Frank was a groaning mess under you, his neck all red and his face flushed. Matt was a noisy mess on your ear, cursing and calling your name like a prayer, his arm wrapped around your waist as he fucked. 

You were at your peak, arousal overflowed from your body into theirs. Their cum filling into you. You all yelped out in pleasure as you rode your highs. Frank dug his hands into your thighs as Matt hid his forehead on your shoulder, rutting their fill into you. The next few minutes came to you in flashing lights, like fireworks spraying colored lights all over the room. 

You woke up the next day to two heavy bodies at your sides. Matt’s arms around your waist with your head resting on Frank’s chest. All of you reeked of sweat and cum. As you turned you saw Matt’s eyes flutter, his long lashes flicking as his golden eyes beamed under the sunlight. 

“Sorry about last night,” he whispered. 

“Why? I had fun,” you said, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. 

“You sure?” he said, as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks. 

“Pretty sore but nothing a pain reliever won’t fix,” you said. 

“I guess you’re right, making out fixes everything,” Frank said, his voice deeper. He joins you and Matt, pressing kisses all over your shoulders. Matt takes this as a sign to kiss you all over your neck, their hands snaking all over your body. “What’s good for breakfast around here?” Frank said in between kisses.

“There’s a good diner across the street,” Matt said, leaving soothing kisses on the marks they left on your neck. Your body was so sore and painful, but these men made sure to make it up to you. You woke up last night to them cleaning you up, Matt wiping you with a damp cloth and Frank rummaging through your closet to grab something for you to wear. Despite their rough lifestyles, they made sure you were taken care of. Maybe a little less pain and suffering next time though. 

“But first,” you said, pulling away from them.” Shower.” 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[kombuuuu]

Requesting a little drabble on reader being on their period and miles takes care of them🙏

HEADCANONS AND SNIPPETS RAAAHHHHH

u asked my babydoll 🤭🫶

UGHHHHH. do i have to set the standard SO HIGHHH BROOO

—

would so be the type to download a period tracker

he want to know exactly when to make sure he’s free, there’s no way he’s letting you suffer without him there, no matter how major/minor your pains are.

he’d jump at the chance to take care of you

like this man is such a giver, it’s unreal

he’s a big massage believer, like is CONVINCED if you let him run your lower back that the pain will go away — he’s not wrong

he probably asked his ma how they worked, and what helped. and was really embarrassed by it, cause he checked google, and a lot of it just said sex LMFAO

his ma probably laughed at that, telling him those articles were all written by someone’s unique experience, and that they’re all different. then gave him a list of things you might like

ie, gifts, food, comfort, sleep — telling him it all really depended on you. he made note of everything she said, and the first time you ignored him for two days — he showed up with a bunch of roses, and a gift basket full of things you loved.

“Surprise?”

“Wh—.. Honey, are you crying?!”

“Nuh uh…”

“Mami, I can see the tears.”

“No you can’t,” *sniffle* “,You’re insane. Crazy.”

“Oh, pretty — C’mere.”

my man LOVES to do skin care with you, so that basket had like 12 face masks slipped in the sides. he thought he was sly, he wasnt

definitely cooks for you. will never let you eat anything inadequate, and if you want junk food, he’s getting his spider suit out and RUSHING

he’s the perfect man im gonna end it (ME END ME)

bigger drabble under cut

Miles’ footsteps were the only thing he could hear throughout the apartment.

Your family out to their everyday activities, but you weren’t. You hadn’t shown to school, nor texted him midway through class if he’d want to go graffiti the Police department — to which he’d remind you he can’t, his dad would kill him — or even begged him to get you food at an ungodly hour.

None of it, you’d gone completely MIA.

So, naturally, he broke into your apartment. Slipping in through your mothers window, which she always leaves slightly open, and strolling through your apartment like he lived there.

He strained his ears, his hearing being rather advanced due to the bite, but still heard nothing but soft breath. Well, you were alive.

“Conejita? You awake?”

He pressed his palm flat to your door and slowly twisted the knob, opening it in slow movements as to not make much noise.

He was graced by the sight of you, curled tight in on yourself with tear tracked cheeks, puffed up and shiny. Your eyes were closed, passed out from exhaustion, but the way your eyelashes clung to each other was a tell you hadn’t been sleeping for long.

“Oh, baby..”

Miles crouched in front of your bed, pausing the show you’d been watching on your phone and clipping it on charge for when you wake.

He watched you shift, pressing a hand to your uterus subconsciously, and the times clicked.

He made a face, something akin to anger, pulled out his phone and turned off DND. The immediate notification for the period tracker he had installed was frightening.

He cursed at himself, giving you a worried glance before he rushed out of the room. Making sure to quietly close everything behind him, and leaving your Ma’s window cracked slightly open.

—

“Hey, Chiquita — wake up, baby.”

“Wh—.,” You opened your eyes slowly, blinking at the harsh light of golden hour. “What..,”

Turning to your side again, you dragged a hand over your eyes and rubbed, checking to see who it was that woke you.

“Miles?”

“Hey, Mami.”

He watched you wake, glossy eyes baring up at him through a sleepy haze. “Hi..”

Your softened tone, and the way your lips curled softly, god he was swooning.

“Got you some things, Ma.”

Your eyebrows pinched but the smile stayed. “You didn’t have to do that, Miles.”

Shuffling the covers off of you, you sat up in your bed, suddenly realising how hot you were and letting your legs sit atop the covers.

“Oh, Please. Like I wouldn’t.”

“I know you do, it’s just—“

“Don’t even say to save, baby, cause this is what I save for.”

He gave you a pointed look, standing up from his crouched position with a foxy smirk and turning to your desk to grab the items. You playfully rolled your eyes, smacking his ass when he turned.

“Watch the hands.”

“Hypocrite.”

You watched him crowd over your vanity, patting the bed for your phone and giving him a curious look. You realised it was on charge, and smiled to yourself before he turned.

In his hands were a bag of any snacks you could ask for, another from your favourite burger place, and the last filled with pain relief items, and of course, true to him, face masks and nail polish.

“Miles…”

“Oh, sweet thing, don’t cry—,”

“I can’t help it!”

“I know, I know, baby.”

He stepped forward, letting the bags rest in the middle of the bed and crawling to sit next to you, grabbing your face in his hand and leaning on the other — he pressed his forehead to yours. Giving you loving pecks wherever his lips dragged.

“C’mon, Conejita. How ‘bout we eat? Then I can make you feel better with a massage?”

He parted from your face and rubbed his thumb along your waterline, dipping to kiss away at your tears.

When he pulled back again he watched your goofy smile grow, and his heart warmed. “Yeah— Okay.. You know you don’t have—,”

“Don’ even finish that sentence.”

“Pff— Whatever.” You pouted at him with a playful smile, the glint in your eye challenging. He rolled his eyes and a smile played of his own.

“I got your favourite—,”

“We should marry.”

—

+BONUS!!!!

“You feel pretty yet?”

“I feel beautiful.”

Miles twirled in the mirror, the matching panama’s he’d found at Target had you both ditching the clothes you were wearing for the stupid spiderman themed pyjamas.

“I mean— The nails? Professional.”

You giggled at him from the bed and he watched to live for that sound to be the last thing he hears, old and greying with you.

“Mhmm, even with all the smudges?”

“I think they add charm.”

You scoffed at him with playful eyes. And pet your face to readjust the face mask.

“Come here, Mimi, gotta fix your mask.”

He shuffled over to you, standing over your and letting your deft fingers run over his face. “You think you’d be good at wearing masks by now.”

“Oh low blow, baby.” He pinched your arm softly and you smiled at him, all domesticity and love and god, he’d be overwhelmed if he didn’t feel the exact same for you.

“[Name], I love you. You know that, yeah?”

You pulled him down by his neck, giving him a peck through your masks and sighed dreamily. “Yeah, know it so well.”

He pushed your chest, gentle fingers coaxing you to lay down, “Love you, too.”

He laid beside you, and you curled up into him. Watching as he grabbed your phone and opened it to start up the show again.

You let your eyes trail his features, before turning back to your phone. Missing how he did the same.

[wishful-seeker]

I have 0% tolerance for doctors anymore, if they treat me shitty once they will again, thus I'll either drop them or file a complaint.

Before my CRPS was diagnosed i was too scared to stand up to doctors. The pain made me SO DESPERATE i was willing to deal with anything. Now that i have this new undiagnosed illness i realized my body and mind PHYSICALLY cannot do that anymore.

The second to last time i didn't stand up for myself with a doctor i punched the medical bed as soon as she left the room, the last time i couldn't even hear what he said because i was busy restraining myself from punching HIM. i was seeing red, face twitching and everything. My body literally cannot take being quiet anymore. I do not care if i make things more difficult. I don't care if it takes longer to get diagnosed because im pushing for better treatment. I would rather stand up for myself and physically suffer more than let these doctors believe they are allowed to treat me like a dog. They don't treat me like a HUMAN, they don't see us as HUMAN. They see us as pests. A burden, a problem to solve. And if they can't solve you THEY FUCKING HATE YOU. but i think i hate them more.

Doctors are in a gross position of power over their patients, they decide if you live or die, your existence is in their hands, you beg them for help because they are your God and they spit in your face. Even if you literally cry and beg them to help they will give you NOTHING and i know this because thats what i did. I literally BEGGED these people sobbing to help my pain and they did nothing. They do not care about you. They never will. We are not people to them. Nurses are often the same way. I've had nurses and doctors lie straight to my face, make faces when i tell them my story, and do other horrible things.

I can't do it. I can't deal with it anymore. I will fight tooth and nail and be the biggest Karen in existence to these doctors the SECOND they treat me wrong.

I have found two. TWO doctors out of over 50 that i actually like. 2 that treat me appropriately and not like im a bug. 2 that treat me like a human being.

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 38 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | lesson 37 | lesson 39

normal and hard spoilers

enraged and pleading being the lesson opener...

is lucifer putting aside his pride for the sake of his brothers?

my heart can't take this

lucifer never begs. the fact that he's so lost in his rage, his confusion, his grief, this is why satan was born the way he is. lucifer losing control of himself to the point that he puts aside his dignity, his pride, using his power to this extent is something i thought i'd never get to see. and the fact that it's all for his brothers makes it that much more painful

he was fine being bound by chains when it was just him, when everyone else was safe, when he was punished for his actions and endangering and ruining the lives of the ones he loved. as long as his family is safe, he doesn't care what happens to himself. then he saw simeon, luke, mc, mammon, and couldn't reign in his emotions. he couldn't stand the thought of the people he cared about the most suffering because of what he'd done, because of his arrogance and insistence and prideful nature, so much so that his anger at himself, at his father, overrided any sense of pride he had left

he's scared, not for himself, but for his family. he uses his anger to mask his fear, but now the two are blended together so intricately that he can't differentiate the two and is losing himself, hurting the people he wants to protect

another instance of him putting aside his pride. lucifer had been just as insecure about his position at diavolo's side as mephisto had. diavolo saw him at his worst, at his weakest, and devoted himself to diavolo for the sake of his family. he put aside his pride, took on the mantle of what he perceived to be a trophy for the person that saved his life, his brothers' lives, and his sister's life

but the thoughts lingering in the back of his mind blinded him of the fact that diavolo didn't only take pity on him, but he understood and empathize with him, he cares about lucifer more than their fathers ever cared about either of them

diavolo AND lucifer at full power ??? i'd be surprised if the entire underworld didn't collapse in on itself. and if that happens, another war is gonna break out, but this time, it'll be between the celestial realm and the devildom bc they're destroying celestial realm property

if an all out war did happen, i wonder if simeon, raphael, and maybe even luke would all take the devildom's side. they've seen firsthand the evil the celestial realm is capable of, and they probably wouldnt want to be a part of it

GODDDDD IM GONNA CRY

if lucifer cries i might ACTUALLY lose my mind

the only reason he lost control of himself was because he thought he had nothing left to fight for, nothing left to lose, and he didn't care if he died in the process since he didn't have anything or anyone left to live for. but seeing his brothers brought him back to his senses. he lives for them, because of them, and would do anything to keep them from danger, even if the danger is him himself

WHATTHEFUCK THIS IS ONLY THE 2ND PART OF THE LESSON ??????? WHAT IS GOING ONNNNNNNNN

speechless. no words. i just thought i should add this

diavolo KNEELING ???? my god

satan 🥺

my guesses are as good as theirs, honestly. i don't think michael would do something this terrible to his most beloved brother, even after lucifer's betrayal of the realm and refusal. he sent luke and simeon down to check on lucifer for fuck's sake, and he went down himself disguised as raphael to make sure lucifer was ok. to see is he really was happy

maybe it was their father? but the whole forgiveness thing throws that out of the window for me. and it couldn't have been the demon king himself since he's in a deep sleep, and there's no way diavolo wouldn't at least feel if his father had woken up. maybe it was someone from the house of lords? mephisto's parents or grandparents?

it's tricky to pinpoint who the celestial realm would agree, though...

THE BROTHERS EVER i love them all sm

i feel like they woke up in age order, minus lucifer obviously. mammon woke up first and watched over all of them, making sure they were okay, and he probaboy came up with the idea to go to lucifer's room when everyone was awake and well. levi woke up second and was trying to distract himself with his games or his manga or something, but couldn't bring himself to leave until he knew all of them were safe

so on and so forth, but i can't figure out if i wanna believe satan or belphie woke up last. technically, satan's the youngest, but belphie's the weakest. satan was also the first to fall victim to cocytus and was stuck in its depths for the longest, but belphie arguably went through the most emotional distress because of what happened to beel. maybe they woke up at the same time?

incoherent screeching and sobbing noises

MY HEART

i feel like lucifer saying "no matter where you may be, no matter how far away" is only gonna make it harder for them to leave. and it's only gonna hurt the brothers more once they realize they'll (most likely) never see mc again. not in this lifetime, not in this timeline, not unless barbatos wills it

...WE FINALLY GET OUR ROOM BACK ‼️

so it wasn't god that was the celestial realm representative...who was it then?

[juggalomary]

did yall miss me. i hope you did bc im returning with a bang. anyways here’s this. warnings: mcd, child abuse. up on ao3 within a few days

A new day, a new disaster, that’s what soap would say. He was always an optimist. Never heard saying anything about how they were likely going to die on suicide missions. Even though it was so valiantly obvious. He has to be watching from his overwatch position right now.

Ghost was glad to have him on his 6. They’d been switching places more often, soap on overwatch and sniping the people trying to end his life. He never called out to him about these people. Sometimes they’d just end up dead.

He always knows it was soap though, who else could do that so accurately. Soap was the best of the best. He’s not going to let ghost die. He’s not that selfish, never was.

Soap was the best of the best, most morally sound. He held his religion above many temptations. Infil was filled with chatter most of the time, except for soap, running his thumb over rosaries and whispering to a power long forgotten by the other men.

Exfil, a shell shocked soap would sit silently, or wail for not his mother, or ghost, but for someone, god maybe, to end his suffering. He was already going to hell, that’s what a priest told him at 15. He confessed and was told his punishment.

Never repeating that confession to anyone else, in fear of rejection. At 16 he carried his older cousin's casket in between the pews of that same church. He got home and told to man up. He turned 17 and enlisted.

That led to right now, soap covering his 6 and ghost shouting for help. A bullet lodged into his spine, blood gushing from the wound. His screams would’ve revealed his position if he cared anymore. There was no way he would get out of this. He just needed to get to a position he could radio to exfil from.

The enemy must’ve heard his screaming for Johnny, there was no response from soaps end. He must’ve been comprised.

The thundering footsteps we’re getting louder needed to move.

He pulled his hands above his head, chin resting on the ground. Looking up from under his eyebrows he saw about 20 meters until cover.

Pushing his arm to unbend he grabbed for purchase on the grass. He needed to pull himself forward to get to cover. His legs proving useless he grabbed a handful of grass and pulls. It rips.

He keeps trying to pull himself forward, but with every futile grasp comes a handfull of dirt and roots. The footsteps grow louder. He can’t die like this.

He screams in pain and frustration. Johnny is comprised, he’s comprised. It’s a solo mission, he needs to call exfil there’s no price here to scoop his useless self off the floor. He could cry. He won’t cry.

He grabbed a rock and pulled himself forward a foot. That’s okay, he’ll to cover soon. He’ll stay awake, he’ll stay strong. He will not cry.

Another idea comes to mind. He pulls 2 knives from his kit and stabs one into the dirt to use as a sort of handle.

One foot at a time he drags himself to the tree line. Sitting up to access his radio he leans on a tree.

He calls laswell. He needs exfil. He needs to leave. He’s losing blood, but he can’t feel it, he’ll pull through.

His eggs were twisted in horrible ways, he didn’t feel that pain, but he also couldn’t move them. He’ll be okay, he can just rest his eyes for a few minutes. His eyes were far to tired.

Nothing from soap. Nothing from laswell, there’s no point in staying awake, he’ll wake up to the radio transmission.

His eyes fall open again.

“-nom, SIMON! COME IN!” A young woman was on the other side of his radio.

“Mom? Mom I’m scared, I don’t want you to leave me here with him again.” It seemed he was crying.

“Simon who’s there, I’m coming, we need to know where you are.”

“Mommy I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I’m in the woods mom. Please don’t let him find me. He had a bat mom.” Drearily weeping through the radio was not something that elete SAS lieutenants do. But his mom was back, he missed her so much.

She tried her damn best, especially since he was stuck with his bummy ass father. She tended to his wounds whenever she was sober. She took beatings for him when he was too young to know he’s a man and he should be taking it. She wiped his tears whenever he came crying. Somehow it wasn’t enough.

He still had his tooth knocked out, he still was given drugs before he realized what they were. He still had to see that sex worker die. He still has to kiss that snake.

Haven forgotten about that snake until right now the hissing in his ear was not of any relief. It should’ve, it would mean his radio was working. His hands were too heavy to really hit the button to turn it on though.

Tears were not allowed though. The snake was in his ear, not biting his lip, his mom was talking to him. And Johnny would be back soon.

“Ghost, Simon, do you copy.”

“Mom I’m not alone anymore”

Crunching could he heard, a dark figure approaching him. He had a pistol. He shot the gun, but the bullet shot right next to his ear. He let himself relax, foolishly.

The man in front of him was his father, but his face was skewed. One part of it was his father, and the other half was of price. The side with price reached out and told him to calm down and stay awake. Then price was gone and it was just his father.

He was screaming, not Simon, Simon would recognize who was screaming and it wasn’t himself. A blow landed on his head, he saw it but didn’t feel it. His father was standing there, his mouth was moving but he wasn’t saying anything. Then he hissed like a snake. Mouth open he saw the snake that bit him all those years ago, he started screaming for real this time.

The snaked closed is mouth and then said something in Spainish. This man was none other than a cackling manual roba. Scalpel in one hand he laughed. The scar on his ribs flared up as he was called every insult under the sun. He was told to not fear as, it would feel so nice soon.

Turning his head out of the grasp roba has on his face he was met with Vernon’s rotting skeletal face. There was dirt in his eyes, ears, mouth, nose. He was buried.

“GHOST!”

“Mom? Save me.”

“Ghost who’s with you right now.”

He opens his eyes, praying he can see at the end of this all. Scratched corneas would end his career, and his career is all that he had left.

In front of him, soap was sitting, thumbing his rosaries and mumbling a prayer. Without greeting he looks up. “Simon, I’ve missed you.”

“Ghost. I repeat, who is with you?”

“Johnny. Bye mommy, I’ll see you soon.”

With his final goodbye to the only person to truly love him, he can rest.

“Simon, I loved you too.” A Scottish lilt was the last thing he heard before the world went silent. He laid his head on the tree and closed his eyes. He hoped that Johnny was in the next 7 minutes. And price and Gaz. Maybe he can finally see them again too. Laswell will join them at some point. Then they can meet her wife. Maybe she’ll have kids after retirement.

He hoped he was happy.

-

Ghost was found 2 days later. Soaps rosary in his pocket and tear tracks running down his face wiping off the eye black.

Task force 141 was together, earthly and in spirit. Buried in the national cemetery one next to the other.

[sserapic]

maybe in another world, my dearest.

summary. getting into a relationship with the balladeer was your greatest mistake, though you don't regret anything that had happened between you. after taking the side of the good guys, he just never felt the love he used to feel every damn time he sees you. but if you couldn't handle the pain then you shouldn't feel it anymore, altering your memories of him is such a great idea. you say.

character(s). scaramouche/wanderer, gn!reader

tw. angst, no happy ending.

"come on, traveler, lead me to him."

you had convinced lumine that you're the lover of scaramouche, well, ex-lover. she hesitated despite the fact that you're a harbinger in which you couldn't be trusted very easily.

scaramouche sat there, under a tree, in the grass where he admired the view from up there. "wanderer." wanderer? had he changed identities?

he was certainly in shock to see you, well he should be, he left you in the dark and never came back which led you to search for him.

"oh, it's you."

you noticed how the traveler had left as you sat next to the former harbinger who you used to fought alongside with, who loved you so dearly but changed so damn quick.

"so, wanderer is the name you go with now?"

"yep."

even up until now you wish that he'd just fall in love with you all over again and come back to you, but you both know it wouldn't even work out anymore even if he did come back to you, the feeling left him but yours never escaped.

"y/n, you do not have to make yourself suffer like this. just go back to being the harbinger you are, but im afraid i cannot stand beside you any longer."

you fought back the tears trying to break free from your eyes, "but i cant. i always need you by my side." you sniff, refusing to even look his way.

"you have to, you can't just cry about me all the time. you're the 5th of the fatui harbingers, there's a chance that we might be each other's opponents someday."

the thought of him taking the side of the good guys while you stayed with the villains hurts like fuck. but somehow, you also cannot betray the tsaritsa.

"why does it hurt so much.." your voice muffled from covering your face with both hands, not wanting him to look at you, crying.

"because the love you had for me was genuine, and so was mine. but ive already moved on, neither will mine come back even if we get back together."

he stood up, lending you a hand.

as soon as you got back to your feet you pulled him close and sobbed in his chest, he let you sob your pain out, ignoring the fact that you're ruining his clothes.

"the traveler has mentioned that nahida can alter memories, is she telling the truth."

"yes, but wh-"

"can you please just make her erase mine?"

"y/n i don-"

"please.."

although he had to make sure that the God of Wisdom was alright with helping a harbinger, he agreed and so did nahida. she was honestly touched and wounded from hearing about you and sc- the wanderer.

he wished to stay and observe how nahida erases him from your memories and will forever be an enemy in your eyes once this finishes.

"one last time, y/n. are you okay with this."

you nodded, glancing at your ex lover one last time. if the Gods ever allow you to live once more, at least let it be with him.

"here we go."

tears started streaming down on your cheek as you closed your eyes, and felt weird seconds later. your eyes opened and observed the unfamiliar place you were in, turning your attention to a certain man beside you who was on the verge of tearing up.

maybe in another world, y/n. i will love you with all i have, that's a promise.

now he just has to watch you from afar, knowing that he would forever be the opponent of the side you've always been with. as much as he wanted to grab his feelings back, he couldn't.

note. hey !! this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now, and this is actually inspired by a genshin oneshots book in Wattpad ! also about the smau, i commented on the second chapter. please take a look at it if you're waiting for an update on the smau !

[stitchthesewords]

hello

Or grian coming back from dl and he needs not only a cane but hes suffering from a bad-but-temporary case of tinnitus and cant get out of bed and no one sees him for a few days until scar comes over to talk bc holy shit dl and finds Grian in need of help

EXPAND UPON THIS. I AM INTRIGUED. if u want no pressure <3

-catmaidetho

WHEEZING WHATS SO FUNNY IS THAT I HAVE BEEN. STARING AT A WORD DOC ALL DAY TRYING TO <- Girl who is so dead from her job

To start w what the delightful @hitheeprithee said to me earlier that made me. Absolutely fucking insane. But Scar gifting one of his canes to Grian in the post-DL return to HC because he's having trouble with both just walking bc of the aches in his body and the dizzyness caused by the disorientation of being shouted apart. And grian tries, really, to be appreciative, but scar's cane doesnt sit at the right height and he's awkward with it so he just stays in bed and then a few days later Scar sheepishly shows up with a custom made cane for Grian that's the right height and has feathers carved into it and just. hhhh.

But its like. Grian having to learn to rely on others. And I mean this in like the. I am physically disabled and im still learinng. You are always learning how to do this. Every day is a new day for failures and learning in this task. And its grian who doesnt want to get out of bed, who's never felt his body be in such constant misery, not even after third life or last life. He went out - bad. I don't have the brain power to elaborate rn maybe I'll reblog this tomorrow but tldr: I headcanon that the deaths in the life series and way different to deaths on hermitcraft. They're permanently debilitating in some way, but the players keep coming back because they learn to cope, they hold tight to the love for each other that radiates through every time they go through it - anyway. This warden death hurts - and Scar is feeling it too, but not as bad, not as Severely, and furthermore he has coping skills in place already for chronic pains and aches and fatigue. Grian doesn't.

It's Scar showing up and adjusting Grian's pillows to help him sit up, nursing him to health with some food and water, an ice pack, a heating pad, some potions from Cub to help with the pains, to help manage. Its Scar teaching Grian to use a cane, to trust his weight to this inanimate object, to learn to use it as an extension of himself. Helping him learn the walking pattern. It's Scar opening up the bedroom window or whatever the fuck the equivalent is in Grian's base to help get some white noise and teaching Grian to focus on it to make the worst of the ringing go away, to massage the muscles in his head to help with the headaches and migraines.

Scar teaching Grian how to pull his weight up with other people, how to get up from the floor with his back hurts so much he can barely move, to shuffle around the room a little bit just to get the blood flowing in his legs.

And then its like. It's Grian leaning his head against Scar's chest and crying from frustration because his body wont cooperate and he's never had to deal with it before and he doesn't know how. And grian apologizing because he's just complaining about things scar lives with always. And Scar soothing Grian's worries and anxieties becaue he knows why grian's frustrated and its not guaranteed to help but by god he'll try, he'll try so hard to give grian the world back if he can.

god I wish i could elaborate more but. I am sleepy.