#shut the fuck up about my self harm scars

[notdelusionalatall]

[emiliosandozsequence]

idk it's really hard to think that someday things might get better when every time i go to the doctor i have to endure thirty minutes of ableism just to get refills of meds i need to sleep and live.

[slvtforfiction]

Could you write a Johnnie guilbert x f reader where the reader deals with sh. The reader is a famous song writer and YouTuber, she gets comments about her scars and just hate comments in general and johnnnie comforts her?

Late night hate

☆ yess ofcourse x

☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader

☆ Fluff/Comfort

☆ Cw: Self harm

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned post

I finished editing my video and smiled to myself as I quickly posted it. I walked downstairs to where Johnnie was sat watching TV and smiled at him as I walked into the kitchen.

“Pumpkin!” He yelled lightheartedly and I giggled at the nickname, “Yeah?” I said as I walked back into the living room, “Cuddle?” He asked like a toddler and I giggled again.

“Give me a minute and I’ll be back I just wanna make a snack.” I said to him and he nodded as I walked back into the kitchen.

I grabbed some strawberries,kiwis,apples and honeydew melon and began to cut them up to make a fruit bowl.

As I finished cutting up the last kiwi I put it into the bowl and walked back into the living room. I sat down next to Johnnie with the bowl in hand and lied down on his chest.

I ate my fruit as Johnnie took little bits for himself and I cosied up to his chest as I watched whatever was on the TV.

After finishing my fruit bowl,I sat it on the table and pulled out my phone to check how my video was doing.

Johnnie looked over my shoulder as I checked on it,equally as curious as me. This wasn’t something I usually posted so I didn’t expect much from it.

However when I looked at the videos analytics it looked to be doing better than the previous videos I’ve been doing.

I smiled as I clicked onto the comments and began reading through,though I was quickly losing my smile.

Imagine showing ur fucking scars,wtaf.

^56 replies

She’s such an attention whore 🤣

^34 replies

Fucking emo

^21 replies

Y/n don’t listen to them x

^- shut up emo

^ view more replies

What’s her issue 💀

^15 replies

Go back to wearing jumpers u fucking emo

^- Leave her alone??

^- Maybe she should stop cutting 🤣

^view more replies

I stopped reading after that.

Johnnie looked down at me and pulled me into a bigger hug as I began crying into his shoulder.

He didn’t say anything,he just held me as I broke down into his shoulder.The silence of the house interrupted by my tears.

“It’s okay.” He said softly as he lifted me up,he sat me in his lap and I kept my face in his shoulder,not daring to look up.

He rubbed my back,whispering sweet nothings as he softly rocked me back and forth. “These scars do not mean you are ugly,these scars show you’ve survived a battle and you should be proud of yourself.” He told me as he hooked his index finger under my chin to make me look at him.

I sniffled and nodded my head,wiping my tired eyes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Are you okay,princess?” He asked and I nodded my head tearfully.

He wiped away my tears,kissing my lips softly as he held his hands around my face. I smiled and giggled as he began kissing around my face endlessly.

“I love you,loser.” I said light heartedly and he smiled “I love you too,idiot.” He said and I giggled.

If you or anyone you know struggles with self harm,you’re not alone. Please reach out to a trusted family member,friend or professional.

Samaritans- 116 123

Shout- 85258

Childline- 0800 1111

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ yeah, okay. maybe you're sad.

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, self-harm, mommy issues (dw there's A LOT of fluff and cuddles and hugging and it all ends up alright) this is just talked about but it can still be triggering!!!!! pls take care of yourselves!!!!!!!! my dms are open :)

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ wasn't planning on posting this but i love validation. also, this is not like cannon ellie i guess?? i did a really bad characterization bc i used this as a vent and i just wanted comfort lmao. hope this still makes y'all feel seen or fucking something. btw this first part is really boring hehe, i wrote this when i was in a rush and in a train and i was tired and sad so i don't mind if it flops lol

i hate this so much idk why i'm posting this as my first pots. aghh. here u go ig. don't hate on me. bye.

(not proofread, sorry abt that)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

you look so out of it

pull it together

we can love you

forever and ever

I've recently moved in with Ellie after weeks of looking for someone to move in.

I had checked other apartments, but this was the one that didn't smell like there was a corpse under my feet, hidden from the light beneath the floor and it didn't look like it was haunted by ghosts. The walls weren't chipping away, also, so that was a plus. There's no denying that getting used to living with someone else was difficult, but it was the only alternative to live away from my parents. Not to mention I had developed feelings for Ellie—she's beautiful, with those eyes and auburn hair, and her tattoos just make her look fucking badass.

After a few weeks, I settled in with her: we both have a routine, and established unspoken rules, and now it's comfortable living with her.

Tonight was a lovely night—I had already finished everything I had to do, and I didn't have an exam until next week, probably—until I got a call from my mother. I know I can't run away from this one. She always threatens to unroll me from college and take me home when I don't answer her calls. And I know she's capable of doing so.

“Hello?” I said as I went out to the kitchen, to take a glass of water.

“You know, most people say something sweet when they answer their mother.”

I roll my eyes, even if she can't see me. It was just a fucking hello.

“What happened, Mom?” I ask, not wanting to fight.

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

She takes a second to answer, “Well—I was looking at some resources and there are a lot near your area…”

“Resources about what?”

“Therapy. Conversion therapy.”

It takes all of myself not to gasp, or cry. I don't know. I hear Ellie going out of her room, and walking towards the kitchen. I don't care if she's here; I haven't been caring about anything these past few days.

“Okay,” Is all you say. I don't know how to answer, or what to do. I leave the glass on the aisle with trembling hands.

“That's all you have to say?”

“I—I don't know what you want me to say.”

“‘Thank you’, maybe?” I stay quiet, I don't want to thank her, I don't want her to speak to me ever again. “You could also get therapy for, you know…”

“For what, mother?”

“The cutting. Your scars—I always thought they looked repulsive. No one is going to lov—”

I hung up before she could say anything else. I hate her. I hate my mother. I can't even believe she's a mother, let alone mine. I suddenly feel the need to hurt, and I hate to admit it, but my mother has always been right about the way they look—so I just shut my eyes and try to breathe. It always helps—deep breathing, that is. I have to remind myself that I'm clean. I've been clean for months. Maybe even a year, I lost count.

“You okay?”

Ellie's voice almost makes me flinch, already having forgotten about her. I open my eyes as she walks over to me and lays her elbows on the aisle, while I rest my back on the counter behind her.

I look at her, with a knot in my throat, “I'm fine.”

“Your mother…” She makes a pause, short enough to not make me go crazy, “Is she, like, a pain in the ass?”

I chuckle at that as I cross my arms, “Yeah.”

“If it gets too bad, you can talk to me. I don't mind. And my dad has some contacts, we can maybe scare your mother away.”

“It's okay,” I tell her with a smile. “I can manage.”

“I know,” She smiles, and I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest.

Before I say anything I regret, I go to your room with my door open—a technique I've acquired to avoid hurting myself.

I sit at my desk and look up conversion therapy first, I want to know what this is all about—I know that it's harmful to people in the community, that it leaves you screwed and fucked up. I don't like what pops up on my screen, so I close the tab and go to another one—where I search for therapy. The real one.

I went to a lot of therapy sessions, but my mother was always behind them, so I don't know if it ever was effective. I like this one a lot better. It should be helpful. It will help, I know that for a fact.

I'm having dinner with Ellie, which we normally do—today we ordered, since we were hungry and it always takes a little while to prep a meal—when I think to ask her about the topic.

“Do you know any therapy center?” I ask her. “Or the number of a therapist? Whatever.”

If she's curious, she doesn't show it. She stops chewing on her food, then looks at me; then continues to chew, and after she swallows she speaks, “Sure, I have some friends that go to the same therapist, so it's completely trustworthy, I guess. I can ask for the number.”

I wipe my mouth with the napkin on my side, “Yeah, that'd be alright.”

Ellie takes a sip from her cup and then looks at me, “You okay, though…?”

“I'm fine, just—you know, making sure everything's okay.”

She nods, “Got it—I was just asking.”

After my first therapy session, I ended up tired. My therapist—which feels weird to say out loud and even in my head—is a nice lady in her thirties who looks like a hippie.

I've realized I tend to lie a lot—I didn't talk about self-harm or my mother. Or anything else, really. Just about the movie Speak, and then almost cried when talking about the weather.

So, “Yeah, it went well,” is my answer when Ellie asks how it went, sitting in her car. She picked me up since I had taken my car to maintenance.

“Okay, then,” she says once the car engine starts. She connects her phone to Bluetooth, and we listen to music for a while. Ellie places her hand on my knee when I start bouncing my leg, which sends shivers down my spine and gives my brain something to think of that isn't any of my shit. “Do you want to go eat something?”

“Sure,” I accept. Her thumb makes little circles on my knee. I wonder if she knows what she's doing, her eyes are still fixated on the road. My heart does the flutter thing that it did a few days back again, and my core heats up.

She doesn't want you, I try to convince myself. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

When we arrived at the restaurant, we ordered a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we wouldn't finish if we ate it separately.

When we arrive at the restaurant, we order a plate together, since we always share and the food here comes in big sizes that we won't finish if we ate it separately.

“So, how's work?” I ask when we're waiting for our food.

“It's going well, I guess.”

“You guess?”

"I just hate my boss."

I furrow my eyebrows, “do you want to talk about it?”

“It's fine, he just sucks. But well, Jesse is postulating to—you know, be a boss; that fucker.”

I chuckle, “Well, I like Jesse.” I soon realize what I said, and my cheeks go red. “Not in a, uh, romantic way or anything. You know. Fuck. He's just nice.”

“Just nice?”

“I like you better than him,” I blurt out, which only adds to my embarrassment.

Oh, oh.

I like Ellie.

Fuck, yeah. You do.

Who am I kidding, I knew I did. From the start—from the first time she looked at me, for the first time touched my hand and spoke to me; for the first time she played guitar for me and made dinner because she knew how tired I was.

Ellie is flushed. I can tell.

“Oh, do you?” She asks with a grin.

The waitress comes with our food, and leaves the plate. I look at her, she looks at me at Ellie and then leaves.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and lay my elbow on the table, with my chin propped up in my hand.

“What if I do?”

She bites her lip, looks at mine and then at the food, “The food's getting cold.”

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Did that actually happen, or was it my imagination? Holy shit. Shit! Fucking fuck.

It leaves me thinking, but my thoughts leave when I hear her laughter after I crack a joke.

We take the stairs up the apartment, and we laugh all the way up. We just laugh and laugh and laugh because she said something and now I'm almost falling to the floor from how much my stomach hurts.

“Stop,” I say when we get to our apartment door. I keep laughing because Ellie's laughing too and she can't open the door. “My stomach hurts.”

She looks at me and laughs. Idiot. I laugh, too.

“Hey!” We hear our neighbor say. “Quiet down!”

“We're sorry!” I exclaim back, as he closes his door.

Ellie giggles, “You're so fucking dumb, I'm not sorry at all.”

“Shut up,” I say.

“Oh, make me.”

And then—oh, god—and then, and then she looks at me as the curvature of my lips goes down, and then I kiss her.

I kissed her. I fucking did. Me, not her—not Ellie's brave and confident ass, but mine. The butterfly in my chest flutters harder when she kisses back. She puts both of her hands on my waist and deepens the kiss, while my hand moves from her cheeks to her neck, then finds its way to her torso.

Ellie manages to open the door without breaking the kiss, and then she shuts the door with her foot.

“We should—” I speak between kisses. “Ellie—couch.”

“Yeah, okay. Okay.”

Our tongues fight, but our souls mend and I find my way to her in every sense. 

[bosinclairsgff]

Slashers Reacting to self harm scars Pt. 2

MAJOR WARNING FOR SELF HARM

Includes : Thomas Hewitt, Norman Nordstrom, Mark Hoffman, Herbert West

Warnings: Kidnap

You have been staying with the Hewitt family for a few months now. You had a daily routine, waking up early, doing your daily chores and spending your evening with Tommy. It had been a particularly hard week on the farm, Hoyt was being extremely difficult and hateful towards you. Tommy had been working super late every night and the heat was starting to make you feel sick. Everything combined just pushed you over the edge, so you did the only thing you could think of. You hadn’t relapsed in so long and really disappointed in yourself. Before starting dinner you went to change into a long sleeve top, even though you were burning up. Of course at dinner, Hoyt was the one to point out said long sleeve shirt. “Why the fuck do ya have on a damn long sleeve shirt in the middle of a Texas summer? I know damn sure ya ain’t cold girl.” He spits out making you cringe. Tommy simply grunted in response and that seemed to shut him up. After washing and cleaning up after dinner you decided to head to bed for a early bedtime. Surprisingly you found Tommy waiting for you in your shared room. “What are you doing up here love?” You question while making your way to the bed to sit next to him. He grunts in response. Being satisfied, you lean in and kiss his cheek. He leans into you. Getting up to take of your clothes, you start with your pants then shirt. Completely forgetting about earlier but it was to late you had taken your shirt off and by the angry grunt you heard you knew you had seen them. “I…I can explain!” No one did this to me I swear Tommy, I did it to myself.” You started frantically explaining. Immediately confusion and pain came to his eyes. Why? He questions with a tilt of his head. Tears start to fill your eyes as you try to find the words to explain to him. “I just was so stressed out and overwhelmed, I did the on,y thing I could think of. I’m sorry. I’lol try not to do it again.” You look down. Hearing the bed creak you knew he had gotten up from sitting down. When he got to you, he pulled you into a hug. Not being able to hold back the tears they streamed down your cheeks. The next day he made you let Luda May clean up the wounds. She scolded you but out of pure love for you. The next few weeks everyone was nicer and kept a close eye on you.

Norman had found you trying to break into his home a few days ago. Since then you’d been locked up in his basement, confined to a small padded area. Everyday he’d bring food, water and water his plants. Begging didn’t seem to work with him. You tried explaining you were hungry and needed money, that you didn’t mean him any harm at all. He never listened. Today he brought down a new set of clothes for you and a wash cloth. Even he must have noticed you were starting to stink. Your arms were tied behind your back, legs were free. You couldn’t fight back even if you tried, he was so much stronger than you. You were completely at a disadvantage anyways, having your hands tied. “I’m going to wash you off and change your clothes. If you try to do anything, I will hurt you.” He states in his low voice. You whimper in response. With that he comes into my little corner of the dark world. His hands travel up my legs looking for my jeans buttons and zipper. Once he found it he starts removing my pants, underwear with them. “Wait, wait, why my underwear please I need them.” You cry out. He says nothing. Reaching for the wash cloth he brought you, he began washing your lower half. Kindly, he avoided your most intimate parts, never going above your lower thighs. After he was done he pulled out a pair of boxers and some sweatpants. Norman also pulled out duck tape, bringing your feet together and wrapping them tightly with the tape. He then un did your tied hands, letting you finally stretch your arms out. Reaching for the new shirt he instructed you to take your shirt and bra off. You had no other choice but to obey. “I’m done, I took them off” you whisper. Taking the wash cloth he finds your arms but stops when he feels the light scars. They were to many of them to be a cat scratch or a accidental cut. “Why would you do this to yourself?” Norman questions. Staying silent and holding back tears, he grips your arm tightly. “Answer me. Now.” He barks out. “I was in so much pain, I just needed to get it out. Please your hurting me, let go.” You say slightly sobbing. Satisfied he let go. He didn’t say anything but finished cleaning you and dressing you. Getting up to leave, he turns back towards you. “You never have to do that again.”

You had been dating Mark for about a 6 months. Moving in with him after three months of being together. You’ve gotten closer to him than anyone has in a very long time. He cares about you so much, he’d die for you, kill for you. Mark knew you had struggled with self harm in the past, he’s seen the scars. You’d told him you had gotten better however and stopped doing that stuff. But, Mark had been neglecting you lately and things at work for you had been so hectic. With so much going on and feeling that you had no one to turn to, you cut again. You didn’t know how you’d hide it from him, you didn’t care at the time. As soon as you heard his keys Turing in the lock though, you cared. Frantically you looked for a long sleeve shirt. Just as he walked in you found one. “Y/n? I’m home, are you here?” He calls out. “Yes! I’m changing I’ll be there in a sec babe.” You respond. Fuck, why did you do that. What will you tell him if he see? You two have your normal after work conversations. He had brought Chinese takeout home for dinner. While reaching for plates to eat on your shirt revealed a bit of your arm, you didn’t notice but Mark did. “Y/n, what are those marks on your arm?” He questions but he already knows the answer. You freeze not knowing what to say. “Why would you do that. I thought we had moved on from such foolish behavior. You are an adult now, you cannot keep acting out like this, you know better y/n.” He shakes his head disapproving of your poor choices. “I’m sorry Mark, I was so stressed I didn’t know what else to do. Please don’t be mad I’m sorry.” You say holding back tears. He gets up and pulls you into a hug. “Either you control yourself of you’ll end up in some hospital where someone else will control you. That’s your decision. I love you, let’s eat.” He says letting go.

Herbert was always so busy with work. He would come home and go straight to the basement, to go and do more work. It seemed like he never had time for you, more like he’d never make time for you. To be honest you didn’t even know what you guys were. Sure you lived together and slept in the same bed but half the time he’d talk to you as if you were a dumb child. It was tiring always being talk down to. Yes Herbert was an extremely intelligent man but you weren’t dumb either. Anyways, with the stress of normal everyday life and having a man who constantly treats you badly you finally relapsed. You hadn’t planned on cutting again, it just happened. To be honest you didn’t even think he’d care if he saw it, you wanted him to though so badly. It was almost midnight when Herbert got home. You were still up watching tv in the living room. “Y/n? Why are you still up? It’s almost midnight. Go to bed.” He said calmly, more like ordered. “I wanted to see you and maybe we could go to bed together. You always come to bed so late, I miss you. Please?” You question. Herbert pauses for a moment thinking. “You know I have a lot of work to do y/n. You can’t be selfish with my time.” He states. You scoff at the comment he made. “How can I be selfish with your time? I never get any of it. You are always in that damn basement or at work. I go to bed, the bed is empty. I wake up, the bed is empty. We don’t even really live together.” You say as you feel the tears starting to form. He’s taken back by this sudden outburst. The living room was dark, only the tv lighting up the room. Herbert flipped on the light switch. That’s when he saw your arm. He’s whole demeanor changed. Walking up to you he grabbed you by the shoulders. “Why the hell would you do something so, so, stupid!? What if they got infected or what if you cut to deep, huh? Then what? Do you want to die y/n!” He shouts. You couldn’t stop the tears. You’ve never seen him so angry and hurt. “I need to clean these up.” He calmly states while dragging you to the bathroom. The room is silent aside from Herbert getting  alcohol to clean the cuts with from the cabinet. “This will burn, you probably won’t mind though considering you did this in the first place.” He says coldly. It did sting, you cry out and try to pull away but he holds you in place. “Nu huh, you don’t get to run from it. You wanted to feel pain, so feel pain.” He whispers in your ear. You’ve never seen him act so coldly towards you. After the burning went away he wrapped your arms with gauze to make sure it stays clean. Herbert walked you to the bedroom and made the bed for you. “I want you to go to bed now y/n. I’m very disappointed in you. I never want to see you do something so stupid again. Do you understand me?” He questions. You only nod in response.

[moongoopy]

no way out

cont: reader has lost about everything so why not lose themselves too?

c/w: reader has anxiety and depression, dubcon, reader getting kidnapped, yandere characters, reader is an artist, death (not reader or the duo), dark content, family problems, blood, reader constantly relapses from self harm, manipulation, harassment (not from duo)

a/n: damn thats crazy. funny how i end it almost the same like my other scenario lolololol, reqs open!

c: geto x reader x gojo

it was the last year of college and it was like you slaved away at your school work that it was numbing to even do your hobbies.

the light in you was dying that your heart should've stopped years ago.

no parties can save you.

you threw away the invitation for the college party, everything was blur to you. too much responsibility on your shoulders and no shoulder to cry on, your roommate no less too busy with his own life to go fuck himself over some girl he broke up with and you slip away everytime you were close to talking to him. he wouldn't listen anyways, head too busy in the clouds as he loses himself again.

the miscalls from your family didn't bother you anymore, it was aggravating to text them back everytime they remembered you so you pretend such a nuisance doesn't exist until it's too late.

"atleast pretend to care"

you told yourself in the mirror, eye twitching from your toothbrush that fall at your feet when your hand collided with the sink. you were worse for wear, eyebags getting darker as you thumbed through social media and letting a few minutes pass before picking up the brush.

instead of calling back, you left a long line of texts with another brand new line of excuses to shut them up with a bunch of emojis for some normalcy. you cleaned up the brush before applying another line of toothpaste onto it and slumped, remembering how money was also running low. thankfully, you didn't share money with your roommate or anything but inflation was upon us.

no way you wanted to ask from your family. they fared well but it was like a hit list on how much you'd ask them and that when you get back home, they'll use it against you and scream in your face while you're strung up limbly like a doll by not responding at all. a response is asking for a fight, no response is to defuse their thoughts by letting them pile ontop of you until they move onto another thing to complain about.

you nearly choke at the taste of blood and pulled away from your toothbrush, red coated your tongue and the gums of your teeth before they quickly get washed off including your grimy face.

another shower may do you good before you worry more about other things. should it be saving up more money or that you haven't come to work for two days now?

oh, this is killing you, why couldn't you just turn the cutter towards your neck? you'd sob so loudly when the blood on your thighs washes over and the cuts burn and twist your skin in and out that you desperately grabbed onto the shower walls. staring down at your scars that barely heal, you made sure to pick pants that wouldn't bother your battered skin. your mind lingers again, the pressure of the water against your head calmer than the caress of your mother's hand combing through your hair.

how did it went downhill in your life?

the folks here were seperated into systems of the typical tropes of college but you weren't treated that badly. there were stares and badmouthing but it never harmed you. so college wasn't the problem.

or maybe it was the relative that passed where you bawled so hard over? yet, you'd never really known them, having correlations towards your passion and attitude only. seemingly called a reflection of them by your other family members but the memory of said late relative lingers in your head sometimes like the wax that's left after the flames took it out but it can only be reshaped if you want to.

but you never pried into the past of that relative so it couldn't be.

you lost yourself way before the impending family problems and countless homeworks you had that the addicting press off the cutter felt more like home than home ever was.

no, dont go back there, it wont help.

drying yourself off, you decided you should atleast take the night shift. clothes tossed on, you couldn't slump around this time. you had something due in a week so maybe work was better to focus on at the moment. passing your roommate's room, you nearly stumbled out the door. night was fast aporoaching this time, it made you ill. the sun or the moon was something you could tell apart from the slow days that passed, without it was living like you're dying.

you took the shortcut, a creepy alleyway but if you were quick; you didn't have to deal with any drunkards and steadily walked. you clutched your earphones in your hand as you tried to listem for any noise that can ruin the night and jumped back to somebody that reached out for you.

"hey there..!"

the man drawled, oh god.

he was drunk or rather high with how hard he was clutching something in his hands but nonetheless it creeped you out, you walked hurriedly away from him.

it was amazing on how stupidly quick he was. his eyes were rolling to the back of his head and drool smearing his lips as he pursues you. your sling bag slipped from your arm which was held tight incase you needed to hit him.

the road down was getting slippery just a bit near to the cornerstore where you worked at, you could dissappear through the backdoor incase he gave chase. or was that a bad choice? he'd know where you work at if he remembered a part of you. thats why you didnt want to yell back incase he recognizes it if he scuttles into your work place and do god knows what there. not a lot of people were around at the hours you work at too.

tears spilled from your eyes, you always were the fearful type. thats why you havent died, just the thought of dying was perfect for you but never the action. you could die in this situation, what if he had a knife. you didnt want that. such an unflattering way to die by some weirdo whose name will be forgotteen after a few days of town talk.

you wanted to die but not this, no!

you swerved the corner and you heard the man gasp.. or choke?

you turned back immediately and another man was holding him by the throat, slamming him back on the graffitied wall with a dangerous glare towards the creep.

"get the fuck out of here!" was enough for the man to whimper and cry, running away back to the alleyway and his footsteps faded away slowly but if you just listen a little closer, he was really running for his life in his drunken stupor.

the stranger's fist was a bit bloody, you didnt know where he had hit himself, hell was that even his blood?

"shit, thank you.."

you exhaled sharply, you had held your breath so long eversince you had turned around. your heart beating so fast to what you thought was gonna happen if the creep caught up with you. this white haired stranger smiled widely, a bit too wide for almost beating up a man and walked towards you.

"you okay? theres been a lot more creeps lately. that must've shaken you up, do you need..?"

he opens his arms up to which you shifted akwardly, hand on your arm. should you? he saved your life and you haven't hugged anybody for a while. hell, you needed something to stop your panic and nearly fell right into his arms. he chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he fumbles with something in his bag in the other hand.

"where were you headed? i'll take you there. who know what other weirdos are out here."

you nodded slowly, feeling more at ease when both of his arms wrap around you. you wanted to stay in his chest for a while, scent so nice to inhale but you pulled away swiftly. wow, nearly caught yourself being the creep, this was revolting. you haven't felt affection in the longest time that some stranger's arms were what stabilize you, it was almost embarassing. you might as well ask him to bed you with how you nearly nuzzled into him.

you turned around and he slipped his fingers between yours which was a bit peculiar.

he laughed boyishly, putting his hands up defensively.

"sorry, its just instict. im worried about you!"

looking at him again, he was very pretty. such nice lashes fluttering at you as he utters his words and you shook your head almost mechanically. you dont get a lot of nice strangers like this often, it nearly made you feel too relaxed. it was fine, he probably goes through this with other people that walk alone at night and get disturbed by whatever.

"i'm kinda late now to my work.. but its fine, can you back me up?" he did a thumbs up before walking with you, finally turning the corner and seeing the signboard of the convenient shop lit up. you looked up at him, wanting to thank him again before one of his arms slip behind your waist and your vision becomes blurry.

a car drove past, stopping beside the two.

your limbs felt heavy and you started seeing black and he held you close.

"don't worry, i'll do more than back you up."

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

this was warm. it felt too warm like a mother's womb. or was that a strange way to describe this feeling? maybe it was more thicker than the blankets you had back at your home or maybe it wasn't your blankets at all?

you woke up in a sweat, head aching with great pain as you let your eyes adjust to the dark.

what was going on?

why was the stranger that helped you was here? legs held to his chest as he watches a movie while another stranger combs through your hair and he was so close, you'd nearly scream. chains rattle and your feet feels so cold. you were so disoriented that whatever noise you managed out of you made the stranger from earlier made him whip his head back.

"it's okay, y/n. we'll explain."

he moved so quick that he was right next to you, gripping your chin so suddenly which made you back up. he held onto you by your clothes and it made the fabric stretch, these weren't your clothes either. just what the fuck was going on?! you screeched, tearing away from him and it made the other stranger hold onto the other's wrist.

"satoru, don't act like a hooligan. you're scaring them"

the one named 'satoru' backed off, chuckling and putting his hands up defensively like how he did before except the look in his eyes were so much more carnal than ever before.

"cmon, its natural to get excited to have your plan work out. on such a random night and way more early than your intended timing, suguru?"

it was like a challenge for 'suguru' to bite back but he couldn't care less and looked back at you. it was eerie. his eyes a swirl of purple and such an illusion had you staring back into them which gave him a chance to touch you even more where he adjusted your clothes and patting them back to how it originally look.

"how'd you feel, darling? i'll explain, we three go to same college, remember us?"

you only had to a bunch of people remembered in your head that anymore than that, you dont bother to remember but their names were farmiliar. people do talk about them all the time so would you shake your head or nod? nonetheless, satoru butts in and thumbs your lips.

"so? speak up, your voice's too pretty to just nod as a response~"

you pulled away, a rush of tears rolling down your face at the realisation of how messed up this situation was. two men in this cold room. you were kidnapped. you didn't know whether to scream or bite back when they started cooing and wiping at your tears. it felt so insulting when they talked like you weren't there, you wanted to quale with anger but your eyes snap back to the shackles on your feet. they notice that you knew, suguru shoves his finger onto satoru's lips before he said something else that could trigger you.

"well, sweetheart. i know all of this can be scary but none of this is to hurt you-"

"how the hell, what the hell do you mean by that? you kidnap me to just look at me, is that what you're telling me!?"

that came out in one breath that you paused, your sobbing stop a bit. this was bad. oh no, you weren't rational. well, you were never rational but in this situation with two strangers from college, they could easily chuck you in a body bag and call it a day. your sniffling gets louder when suguru pressed his thumb into your cheek and turned your head towards him.

his expression was almost indescribable. was he angry? was he amused? was he planning things? this was making you dizzy. they might talk about killing your right here right now too as they had no shame to cover up their plans of kidnapping you. but a small huff was let out from his lips as he held your face so tenderly.

"i know, this situation cam be scary but we've seen you around college. your artwork is just astounding and we wanted to go look for you, such an artist should hear our praise from us and yet you were nowhere to be found." satoru's brows quirked up when your eyes started gleaming a bit but blinking fast to try to hide some care into his words.

"when we found out how you've been so down in your mental issues, it saddens us. your teachers told us how you looked deeply affected by them. that you've been so lonely.." your chest starts heaving when he got so close to your face and your feet kicked the floor to slip away from him only for satoru to hold you from behind.

"we decided to keep you here as our little darling."

you blinked up, eyes twitching.

so they only saw you as entertainment that you were about to push them away from you and spit at them until satoru held your hand and kissed it, taking in your scent.

"sure, its the most foul thing to ever be called by us but we promise you're gonna enjoy it here!"

his arm slips from behind your neck and pulled you close to your chest, snickering when you tried to get away from him. his lips inch close to your ear and he whispers.

"we want to make you feel much better, away from everything you're experiencing and we want to talk about your passion too. wouldn't you like that? we'll provide it all for you. just say the word~"

your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head from the tears you squeezed out painfully. this had to be a joke. what was even going on anymore? your life had to be an absolute joke, you should've joined that one relative in death too.

but a life with them where your problems are almost nonexistent was just peaceful, did you died to get into this position. your crying had calmed down again. you looked up at them in worry, were they really telling the truth? a kiss was pressed softly on the forehead by suguru and his smile reached his eyes with such tenderness.

"you need time to process this, you can go back to sleep and think about it when you wake up.."

"orrrr enjoy your favourite!"

satoru popped open a bag from the restaurant you liked to go to but haven't in a while and the smell was just strong enough to taste it. your eyes linger to a pillow suguru held out for you and you'd nearly keel over. it was your pillow from your dorm and it made your head swirl in confusion.

just who are these two? why do they know so much when they heard you through passing? there was so much questions that they shut down with a kiss and slot their bodies right next to you.

but one thing was certain, you're not getting out of this soon.

[propertyofwhitney67]

You're such a fucking idiot

M!Whitney x F!Reader

Words: 842

Tw: Self harm, Blood, Scars

Note: For @yurilovesyuri :)

I played with my old razor blade, flipping it around in my hand while staring at myself in the mirror across the room. Through the grime and cracks, I could see my hollow face and dead eyes. I looked like a corpse, just dead inside.

Sighing, I stood up and took off my clothes, leaving me in only my underwear. I stared down at my scars, some old and some new. Tracing the scabs, I wondered it anyone actually gave a fuck. I knew everyone in swim class has seen them, but they never say a fucking thing. I know Kylar’s seen them, but they like it. Whitney…I don’t think he’s noticed. He doesn’t spend too much time staring at my arm but my thighs, he spends a lot of time there…I shook my head angrily, he wouldn’t give a fuck either way. I’m just some toy for him to use.

Sitting back down on the bed, I picked up the blade, hovering it over my right thigh. I took a deep breath and dug the blade into my scarred skin, blood spilling out of the cut. It wasn’t deep enough…

I was about to dig the blade into my skin again before my door was practically kicked in, “There’s my slut!” It was Whitney, flanked by his gang. He stopped in his tracks, seeing what I was doing. Without hesitation he yelled back at his followers, “Fuck off.” They started to talk back, but it only took one look from Whitney to shut them up. They filed out and he slammed the door shut, looking over at me with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. It was a mix of anger and something else. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He took the blade from my hand and tossed it across the room.

“Like you give a fuck.” I grumbled, standing up before being pushed back down. “Fuck off, Whitney.” I didn’t bother trying to physically fight back, I was too tired, too empty.

He rolled his eyes and asked, “Does that fuck give you bandages?” I nodded and pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. Once he was gone I groaned and leaned back onto the bed, blood trickling down my thigh and staining my sheets further. Of all the times to kick in my door, he chose now.

Whitney came back within a few minutes with an armful of bandages and other supplies. “A bit excessive, no?” He glared and set everything out on the bed beside me. “Are you my nurse now?” I tried to make a joke out of the whole thing, hoping he wouldn't start asking a million questions and yell at me.

“Would you just shut up! Fucking hell, I’m trying to help you.” Whitney was quickly growing angry with me. “You’re such a fucking idiot…” He whispered when he finally saw my thighs up close. Normally, he’s paying too much attention to your cunt to look at them. 

He quietly traced the old scars, being careful with the scabbed and healing ones. I kept quiet, the feeling was nice, soothing even. “Why are you being nice and helping me?”

Shaking his head, he continued to softly trace my scars. This was out of character for him. Sure he was nicer to me when we were alone, but this felt different. It felt intimate. He shook himself from his trance and started opening up bandages to cover my new cut. “I’d ask why, but I already know the answer.”

I hummed and dropped my head back onto the bed, “Oh yeah?” He hummed quietly and nodded, focusing on his work. “It’s partly because of you, ya know?” I tried to guilt him, let him know how much this was actually his fault. That he had a hand in all this.

Whitney nodded, “I know, I’m not as stupid as you think. I can put the pieces together pretty easily.” He wiped away the blood with a clean rag, applied some cream, then applied the bandage. “I’m the cause of a lot of your problems. I just never gave a fuck about how it affected you.” He was quiet for a moment as he gathered the trash, “Seeing it is different…” Sitting up I touched the bandage, but he slapped my hand away. “Don’t fuck with it.”

I rolled my eyes but stopped, “I know you’re not gonna change-”

“Shut up, slut.” He grumbled, throwing the trash away in my bin. “Lay down.” I sighed but complied, laying down on my bed and waiting for him to use me. “Move over.” I scrunched up my brows, “Just do it.” I made room for him beside me and he manhandled me onto my side and pulled me close to his chest. 

“What are you doing?” I asked, confused why he wanted to cuddle with me.

He started to rub small circles on my scarred hip, “I’m trying to be nice, so shut up and enjoy it.” I sighed but relaxed in his arms, I needed this.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

𝘒𝘰-𝘍𝘪

[liaaa33]

Why you cut your wrist?

Paring: chris sturniolo x fem reader Waring; self harm, angsty, crying, use of drugs, death wish, dealer chris

Summery:chris is your dealer best friend and sees something you have been hiding for years now.

After 15 min the door rang so I got up and opened the door for chris exited to smoke since we haven’t seen each other for a long time

“Yo what’s up maa” chris said hugging me.

“Nun much just exited to see you again tbh” I smile walking him inside. We got inside my room and sat down next to my window.

“You gonna get the stuff or what?” Chris chuckled.

“Oh damn sorry” I giggled walking over to my drawer getting out some papes and a grinder.

Chris rolled us the joint and passed it over to me wanting me to take the first hit. I place the joint in my mouth chris lighting it looking deep into my eyes. I pass it over to him blowing out my smoke.

“Damn this shi is good asf” I giggle

“Yeah” chris laughed passing me the joint again. He looked into my eyes deep this time different then before.

“You good?” I giggle.

“Yeah yeah.. it’s just idk” he smiled at me.

“Say it weirdo” I laugh at him.

“You look very pretty” he said nervously.

“You fucking with me rn?” I say smiling at him.

“Noo I’m being fr right now” he took a hit of the joint looking me deep into my eyes.

“Well thank you” I smiled confused why my best friend is saying that to me and acting so weird. He passed me the joint again and I smoke it dead throwing it out the window.

“Y/n…”

“Yeah?” I said confused looking at Chris.

“I think I need to tell you something” he said now very serious.

“What’s wrong Chris?” I said confused on why he’s being this weird to me rn scared that he will leave me, scared that I did something wrong.

“I really like you, but like not as friends or not as a hoe I mean like really fucking like you” he said looking into my eyes.

“What” I said checking if I’m not dreaming rn.

“You’re high chris shut up” I giggle.

“No y/n I mean it I really fucking like you” he said.

“I can’t believe you” I said smiling.

“Do I have to prove it or what” he smirked.

“Maybe you do” I giggle as Chris stood up grabbing my face kissing me passionately.

I kissed him back climbing on top of him now sitting on his lap making out with him. He tried taking off my shirt but I stopped him.

“I’m sorry was this to much?” He said now feeling embarrassed.

“No no It’s not that chris..” I said looking down.

“What is it than?” He said forcing me to look at him.

“Don’t worry about it” I forced a smile at him kissing him on the cheek.

“No y/n tell me” he said in a serious voice. I never hear chris this serious ever. Now being nervous I look away again scared he will notice my secret.

“I can’t..” I say.

“Yes you fucking can tell me now y/n I’m being serious” he said looking at me with a mad stare.

“I- I” I tried to say but no words came out of my mouth tears now forming in my eyes.

“Hey.. y/n what is wrong tell me please” chris said now cubbing my face in his hands.

“I’m sorry” I said repeatedly chris still not knowing what’s going on with me.

“What are you sorry about y/n why are you saying you are sorry” he said now panicking since my crying doesn’t stop.

I look at him embarrassed holding my wrists tears rolling down my face. He noticed me holding my wrist and immediately knew what was going on grabbing my wrist pulling up my sleeves revealing many scars and fresh cuts on my arms and wrist some worse then the others.

“My god… y/n…” tears begin rolling down his face too now.

“I’m sorry” I said now crying more than before.

He hugged me tightly comforting me slowly stroking my hair.

“Why..?” He said his voice shaky.

“I- I can’t to this shit anymore chris I’m so tried and empty the only one left in my life is you and I feel like you slowly are drifting away too I’m so scared that you will leave and everyone is so mean to me and I just- I just want to die” i blur out between sobs hiding my face in chris neck.

“What… why didn’t you tell me y/n!?” He said now crying more then before.

I never saw chris ever and him crying in front of me made me realise how fucked up my mind really was. I was embarrassed at myself for telling him all that even tho i knew it didn’t bother him and he was glad i did tell him that.

“I don’t know I’m sorry I’m so so so sorry chris” i say chris looking at me with worry..

“I love you so much y/n you should have told me earlier you know I couldn’t live without you ma… I love you so much more then you think okay?” He said holding me tightly.

“I’m sorry I know chris” I said closing my eyes just enjoying his presence.

“Next time please come to me and don’t hurt yourself okay? You mean so much to me please don’t do that to yourself.” He said stroking my hair kissing my forehead.

“Okay im sorry chris”

:::This was my first story man idk if I like it 💀

[jjmaybank4l]

Warnings: strong language, drinking alcohol, self-harm attempt, scars, probably spelling mistakes don’t come after me😭 

I grab a bottle of vodka and walk into my room shutting the door sniffling. I open the bottle and take a big chug. My phone has been going off for hours. Mostly from my best friend conrad. He’s always worried about the most stupidest things. But this time, he probably should be worried. I look at my phone and open the texts from conrad. 

Yn why the hell are you not answering your phone. Answer I’m worried about you. Please. 

I sigh and put down my phone not texting him back just leaving him on read. An hour later and I’m really drunk and I’m sitting on my floor crying. As I wipe my eyes sniffling, I look at my cabinet beside my bed. I walk over to the cabinet and open the drawer. As I dug through the stuff in the drawer I found my razor. I grab it and sit on the floor bringing the razor to my arm. Just as i was about to slide it down my door opens making my head snap up. Conrad stands in the door way looking at the razor in my hand. “Yn what the fuck?!” He says running to me and taking the razor from me and checking my arm. “Con get off of me” I slur while i push him off me.  “Yn what were you doing?!” He says running his hands through his hair now standing over me as he starts to pant. “Nothing leave me alone” i say groggy as i try to stand up almost falling but catching myself. “Are you fucking drunk?!” He asks looking at the empty vodka bottle on the ground. “No Shit Sherlock” I roll my eyes as I stumble around the room looking out the window. “Yn tell me what’s going on.” He says turning my shoulder towards him so I make eye contact. My eyes and bloodshot red and my face is puffy from crying. “What were you doing with the razor.” He says sternly. “What the fuck do you think.” I spit back stumbling away. “Let me see your arm.” He says looking at me with tears in his eyes. “The hell no” I say scoffing. “Yn im not asking.” He says grabbing my arm and rolling up my sleeve. I try to pull my arm away but he’s to strong and I’m to drunk. He looks at my wrist and sees many scars. He slowly loosens his grip on my wrist letting me pull my arm away and roll my sleeve back down. “Yn…” he says softly. “Don’t.” I say softly walking away. “Is there any more.” He asks in a whisper. I stay silent looking at the floor tears in my eyes. “Please show me.” He asks walking towards me as I sit on my bed. “No.” I say quickly. “Yn.” He says sitting down next to me on the bed. “No conrad.” I say wiling my tears away. “Hey” he says reaching to hold my hand. He grabs my hand and I start crying. He then pulls my into his chest as I hug him tightly. I start sobbing and my body shaking. “I’m s-sorry!” I cry into his chest. “Yn it’s okay.” He says playing with my hair. “No it’s not okay!” I cry again. “Your okay. I’ve got you” he says. As he says that I just cry harder into his chest. Soon after what felt like forever I stop crying and I pull away wiping my tears and sniffling. “You should go to sleep. We can talk about this in the morning.” He says rubbing my back. “Can you stay with me?” I ask softly looking at the floor. “Yeah of course. I’ll always stay.” He says smiling. We lay down on the bed he pulls me into his chest, his fingers in my hair. I fall asleep almost immediately. He kisses my head and puts his head leaning on mine and falls asleep. 

[s1llysmut]

hello>_< can i request dom Charlie x sub fem reader smut pls? I have a prompt but u totallyyy dont have to use it!!!! Its like a comfort smut kinda!! Basically Charlie is abt to go down on reader and she notices sh marks (can be healed can be new idm) that she never noticed/saw? Thank uuu!!!>_< if ur not comfortable w that its okiii!!! Have an awsome sauce day💕💕💕

A/N: Of course! I hope you’re doing okay anon <3

TW: SELF HARM MENTIONS AND SCARS

Charlie reacts to readers SH

Charlie didn’t know about your past. Not many people did. People aren’t exactly empathetic in hell so you kept your history with mental illness and self harm a secret for the most part. Even your own girlfriend didn’t know.

Tonight was your first time. Charlie was hovering over you, leaving kisses over your body, soft and sensual, and slowly lowering downwards. You let out small breathy moans as she kisses your clothed pussy. You let out a breath and prepared for the heavenly feeling of her mouth on you… but it never came.

You glanced down instead to find your girlfriend seemingly in shock.

“Charlie? Baby what’s wrong?” You sit up.

Your eyes follow where hers are landed. Oh. Right on your scars.

“Y/n I- w- what is this…?” Your girlfriend stammers out, not removing her eyes from your scars.

“Please… tell me it’s not-“

“It’s not new,” you interrupt her.

She visibly seems a bit less panicked although still concerned. She finally moves her eyes to look up at yours. A small tear drops onto her cheek.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t want you to think of me differently,” you sigh, placing your head in your hands.

Charlie gently lifts your head up to meet her gaze. She’s smiling sympathetically.

“It’s okay. I get it. I don’t see you any differently Y/n. You’re still my beautiful girlfriend.”

You smile and bring her into a kiss. Your lips intertwining with each others. Just like two puzzle pieces fit together perfectly.

“So, do you want to continue or-“ she begins before you cut her off.

“Please continue. Please?” You look at her with slightly pleasing eyes.

She smirks before resuming her position between your thighs. You let out a small gasp as you feel her lips press small gentle kisses on your scars. So gentle, as if she’s afraid they’re still sore.

Her kisses trail upwards until she’s finally met with your core. She slowly glides her tongue between your folds and over your clit, sucks, and repeats the motion.

Your hands quickly find purchase in her hair, tugging and gasping at the new feelings.

“Oh- oh my god Charlie!”

She hums against you, causing vibrations that add to the pleasure you’re feeling.

“F-fuck babe I’m gonna cum!” You gasp out between moans, busking your hips up.

She starts sucking your clit with vigor. Purposely moaning against you to add more stimulation.

Thats when you felt the coil in your stomach tighten and then snap. Pure euphoric bliss rushed over you. Your eyes squeezed shut and your hips bucked up.

When you came back to reality, Charlie was leaving little kisses on your scars again.

How did you get so lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend?

[sunrisemill]

♡ The little things ♡ PT.2

Summary: Matt has always been pressured to live up to his father and everything that he expects him to be. Y/n has always been very quiet and has been pressured by her whole family to step out of her comfort zone and live her life free from her worries. What will happen when they unexpectedly run into each other at a random ice cream shop?

(Warnings: mentions of verbal abuse and slight physical abuse and self harm)

Pt.1

(Matt’s POV)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound of the clock on the wall echoes throughout the classroom.

I try to focus on the test in front of me but I can't get her out of my mind. There's just something about her…

Something that makes me yearn to know more. But I blew my chances by lashing out at her. I sigh.

I look up at the clock for the twelfth time this hour, Silently cursing under my breath once I realise there are only five minutes till the bell rings, sending us all home.

I look back down at my test, I feel hopeless.

My eyes scan the questions but all I see is her soft hair flowing in the gentle wind.

I press my pencil against the paper but freeze.

The serene look she had on her face as we walked out of the ice cream shop.

The winter air made me want to run and seek comfort in the warm buildings surrounding us.

But the look on her face was different.

She seemed…Happy.

Happy to be in freezing weather. Happy to be shivering. I don't think I'll ever understand her. She's just a mystery to me.

An enigma.

~~~~

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

My father says. His voice is cold. Cold enough to send a shiver down my spine.

I bite my lip.

I look down at the table, praying for any form of escape from this. From him.

“I– I don't know.”

Even though I'm not watching him. I can tell his body tenses as he presses his palms against the dining table.

“Oh. You don't know, huh?”

He chuckles. I know that's not a good sign. I knew he was going to be furious when he found out I failed my test.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I scratch the back of my hand.

It's a habit I picked up when I was younger.

The pain from the scratches makes me forget about my father's condescending eyes staring down at me for a moment.

“You know, Matt.”

He spits my name out of his mouth like venom.

“Ever since I was your age. I had always dreamed of having a son.”

My eyebrows furrow with confusion. I finally found the courage to lift my head.

“What-”

“DONT Interrupt me.”

My head quickly snaps down to look at my lap. I drag my sharp nails harder against the scarred skin of my hand.

“I had always dreamed of having a son. So you can imagine how elated I was when your mother and I found out we were having you.”

I swallow as I feel a tingling sensation rise in my throat. Please. Not now.

“But as you grew up I started to notice things…”

I hear his slow footsteps thump around the table, coming towards me.

“The son that I wanted was someone I could have a simple conversation with. Like this one. And they wouldn't start crying like a fucking baby.”

Out of nowhere, he grabs my chin. Forcing me to look up into his cold dark eyes.

“But you couldn't do that for me, could you? I had to be left with a sissy for a son.”

His harsh words make my lip quiver. He watches over my saddened face with a look of disgust.

He lets go of my chin, Making the point to brush his hand off on his shirt.

“Get out of my site.”

I quickly scramble to get up from my seat and run to my room.

Choking back sobs as I do.

~~~~

I stare up at my ceiling.

Just listening.

Listening to the creaks in the floors.

The cars honking as they drive past.

Listening to the sound of gravel moving under the tyres.

Listening to the sound of my sniffles as my tears stream out of my eyes and into my ears.

I close my eyes as I feel my heart rising in my throat.

I try to look back at the good parts of my week. Hoping it could cure the sadness deep within me. I try to remember anything.

Just anything.

But all of my memories slip through the cracks of my fingers like water. All except one.

Her.

Why can't I stop thinking about her? I try to shake her out of my mind, but that only makes the thoughts worse.

Her... Her... Her...

I sigh. I slowly peel my eyes open.

I have to fix this problem.

——————

(a/n: Hey omg 😮‍💨 I’ve honestly never written something like this before so I would really appreciate some feedback if you have any 🙏 thank you so so so much for reading and don’t forget to keep yourself safe!!! I love you <33)

Tags: @guccifrog @junnniiieee07

[cultofdixon]

Tough Love

Daryl Dixon [PLATONIC] • They/Them Pronouns [Non-Binary - AFAB] • Life hasn’t been that kind to you. Like having Merle Dixon as your biological father. And Daryl Dixon not stepping in when he should’ve. But then the end of the world happened…and everything is changing • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Slurs [cuz Merle is a bitch] / Self Harm Scars / Self Harm / Scars / Domestic Abuse / Abandonment Issues / Coming Out / Past Attempt Mentioned / Injuries • Fuckton of Flashbacks

Requested by: @monootakuu

“What in the fucking hell is that, Merle”

“Are you that fucking stupid? It’s a baby”

“NO SHIT BUT HOWD YEA GET IT”

“ITS MINE DIPSHIT”

Daryl frowns as he couldn’t believe it. His brother is that fucking stupid to knock somebody up.

“This is all you, Merle.”

“You ain’t gonna help me?”

“I’m not the one that knocked up a fucking hooker. For once in your life, take responsibility and try not to fuck every woman that stands. Or there will be more mini Merle’s that infest the earth” Daryl snaps at his brother grabbing his jacket and leaving the trailer, with the extra emphasize of how he feels with slamming the trailer door making the little baby violently sob.

“You little—“ Merle glares in the direction Daryl left before taking the baby out of the car seat it came in. “Shut it you little ass kicker”

________

“Hurry up kid” Merle snaps continuing to lead the way on the hunt as Y/N stood up from checking a batch of mushrooms to catch up to their old man.

Daryl walks beside his brother glancing back and every now and then to find Y/N staring at their feet but still right behind them.

“I can show yea which mushrooms you can eat or not”

“Or not.” Y/N frowns. “I’ve got my book…I don’t need your help” they sigh opening said nature book they stole from their school library before the end of the world happened.

The two heard the thud and scream from behind them seeing Y/N now hanging upside down by the ankle. They struggled with the trap trying to bend enough to use their knife to cut them down but they were starting to get frustrated. Daryl was about to cut them down when he noticed Merle ready his weapon to the footsteps approaching.

“Somethin’ triggered the trap finally” One of the two announced but as they approached to notice the two hunters staring back with the crossbow and hunting rifle at the ready. “Oh. Shit but it’s—-“ he looks up seeing the human being that got caught. “Well shit.”

“Do you even know how to set fucking traps like that? Some part of it is supposed to be visible to hunters” Daryl snaps at the two watching them tense.

“We’re not hunters, we are just trying to feed our camp and we can only use so much of the forage”

“But. Given y’all are hunters. Maybe we can come up with something”

“You’re really gonna ask us for some kind of fucking deal when you almost killed our kid?”

“Said kid would like to be fucking let DOWN” Y/N yells off the top of their lungs not giving a damn about what else could be walking the forest. Daryl was about to do it gently until Merle pushed past him with his hunting knife in hand, striking the rope causing his kid to hit the ground hard.

“MERLE”

“What? They’ll fucking walk it off” Merle scoffs approaching the two strangers. “So a deal?”

Daryl glares at the back of his brother’s head holding his hand out for Y/N as they kept to the ground for a moment which lead to him kneeling to their side.

“What hurts kid?”

“Like he said I’ll just walk it off…” Y/N sighs swatting their uncle’s hand away and getting up from the hard ground picking up their book along the way.

________

Daryl frowns watching Merle ignore his toddler that was more interested in him and what he was doing at. But what the man was doing was preparing his crystal deliveries.

“Don’t let her ingest some of that Merle. Or you’ll lose your kid”

“I ain’t letting her anywhere—-HEY!” Merle suddenly pushed his kid over with his foot causing his brother to get up from the kitchen table to check on her. But the kid sprung back up like it was nothing. “You’re in time out. GO!” He points to the corner and the small child knew where to go.

“You’re a monster, Merle”

“No. The monster is that devil spawn’s mother that locked her legs around my torso” Merle snaps crushing a piece of the meth grabbing his pipe about to light it when Daryl grabbed the spray bottle he uses on his kid. “Don’t you fucking dare”

“Smoke outside if you really want to be a douchebag. Don’t hurt your kid even more than you already have”

________

“You are staying here” Merle states to Y/N who is more than capable to take care of themselves on a run like this one. But given the anger in his tone, Y/N didn’t even bother trying to fight.

“Just stay safe old man” They sigh going to their campsite within a campsite more toward the can boarder to alert of walkers.

“Daryl” The eldest yells at his brother to get his attention from Dale who he was informing about a possible hunting ground. Daryl approaches the small run party looking at his brother confused. “Keep an eye on’em.”

“If they want to join the hunt, they will. Otherwise, there’s other people to keep an eye on them just in case of anything” Daryl reassures his brother even if it didn’t really mean much.

Y/N didn’t go with Daryl to hunt this deer he’s been tracking for a while. Didn’t even leave the tent for the first hour, just reading the foraging books that were stolen by Merle as an attempt to bond with his kid. But failed when they discovered he stole them.

“Y/N? Honey?”

The teen quickly shot up to the voice taking a second to remember that it’s not just the Dixon’s anymore.

“Who is it?”

“Lori, was wondering if you wanna come with the ladies and kids down to the lake. You don’t have to do laundry but just get out of the campsite” Lori patiently waited for a few minutes as she was about to leave thinking she asked too much but saw the tent open with Y/N stepping out with their backpack on. “Got everything?” She gave them a smile watching them nod before leading the way for them.

Soon Y/N found themselves watching two kids splashing each other in the lake while they assumed their mothers and the other women at the camp did the laundry. They watched the ripples in the water for a while and only thought about how they couldn’t swim.

Honestly liked the moment without their dad and uncle

The children stopped splashing when they noticed Y/N stepping into the water after rolling up their pants and grabbing a few pebbles. They started to skip the rocks along the water and the two were intrigued.

Lori gently elbows Carol for her attention before directing with her eyes. Both watching Y/N teach their kids how to skip rocks. Sophia accidentally hitting Y/N in the back of the head with a pebble resulting in the two rising to their feet not knowing how they’ll react. But the slow turn with a serious look resulted in a smile and the teen suddenly splashing the kid with the water. The giggling broke out for all three of them making the moms relax and admire the happiness they all now rarely see.

“Yea sure?” Dale questions Y/N as they offered to take one of the night watches with their uncle’s hunting rifle that he’s never used.

“Yeah I’m not sleepy so”

“Okay, only for a couple hours. Then I’ll be up”

Y/N shot him a thumbs up before climbing up the RV and taking a seat on the lawn chair. They watch their surroundings for a while, inevitably falling into a leaning position staring up at the night sky…enjoying all the stars in the sky…part of them couldn’t believe they were loving a moment without their dad.

He just…never seemed to care.

________

The thirteen year old strutted out of the hospital still wearing their gown over their tshirt and shorts with the grippy socks and all. Y/N stopped at the end of the walkway seeing Daryl leaning up against Merle’s truck but no Merle. Their shoulders slumped and the frown remained as they approach their uncle.

“Where’s the old man?”

“Jail. Again.” Daryl frowns, his eyes glued to the bandaging on their wrists. “Got called by the cops about bailing him out and when I got there, your dad just. Magically remembered that today was your release day…which I didn’t know anything about and I fucking live with y’all…so I left him there and waited in this parking lot until you got out”

“You didn’t have to…they probably would’ve LOVED to hear me talk about my hooker mom that I never met and deadbeat dad that uses me as a drug rat in my school for more money.”

“Did you actually—-“

“Not the drug rat part. Just enough for them to let me leave…” They frown dropping their shoes that had the shoelaces pulled out so that they can slip them on. “Can you re-lace them for me when we get home?”

“Mhm” Daryl really couldn’t pull his eyes from the obvious as Y/N felt the words get stuck about addressing it.

“You think Dad would’ve…actually come and pick me up?”

“Honest?”

“Prefer it…”

“Probably not” Daryl frowns extending his hand to take their bag and toss it into the bed of the truck turning back to the kid seeing the glued stare of theirs. “I don’t wanna ask if you’re not okay to talk about it”

“It wasn’t even dad who found me…just one of his hook ups. You were on that road trip on your bike. Paramedics couldn’t reach yea and reached…Merle who didn’t hesitate to get me committed. The kitchen isn’t going to look pretty when we get home…I’ll cle—-“

“I’ll clean it up. Just…please talk to me if you need somebody.” Daryl felt the ache in his chest hearing all of that coming from them as he couldn’t help but pull them into his embrace. “You’re my family too, and I’m sorry for being a bitch too most of your life”

Y/N brought their arms around him not understanding the full extent of hugging but the safe feeling they got from it…made them hold on longer.

________

“You—-DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA WHO YOU’RE AFFECTIN’ HERE?!” Daryl snaps at the sheriff in front of him feeling Shane push him back to avoid any physical altercation.

“Just you I’m assumin’” Rick held his hands up defensively but those words caused a lot of looks in his direction. “Now what am I missing here?!”

“Rick, honey, Merle is—-“

“What is Uncle Daryl yelling?” Y/N joins the party wearing one of Merle’s tan button downs over their long sleeves as the similar shirt is what caught Rick’s attention.

They’re too young to be a lover—-well. Everybody’s seen Merle right? Rick thought but then instantly received whiplash of the word “uncle” that came from their mouth realizing he just handcuffed someone’s father to a roof and left him there. “Shit. I—-“

“Y/N, he didn’t mean to” Shane tried to cover for his best friend as Daryl shoved the other cop off of him going to his confused kid.

“Something happened to Merle”

Y/N frowns instantly as the words left behind were the only ones that stuck out in Daryl’s explanation but before he could get riled up again. The fifteen year old made their way toward’s Rick and his guilt expression before suddenly having their fist meet his face without a second thought. Rick went down instantly and scrambled a bit confused on how much strength that teenager carried as the confused turned to anger and then sorrow within seconds. Lori didn’t bother getting involved, nor did Shane or Daryl. Rick instantly knew that he deserved it for the decision he made even if Merle is who he is.

“Look…I’m—-“

“Shut the fuck up, pig” Y/N kicked the dirt at him before storming off wiping the tears away on their way back to their tent.

“You’re not gonna fight him too right? Cuz we’ll knock your ass down” Shane tells Daryl who shot him a glare.

“The kid said enough for the both of us” Daryl frowns leaving to talk to Y/N before even talking to the retired sheriff how they’re going to get his brother back.

His anxiety got the best of him when he opened their tent seeing Y/N fiddling with their knife. But the action was stopped when he entered, to avoid his assumptions.

“Is he dead?”

“Dunno”

“Are we going to go get him?”

“I will go get him. With some of those fucks by the looks of it.”

“Why won’t you let me go”

“Because if shit hits the fan, you ain’t getting yourself killed.”

“And lose you too? Fucking think for once Uncle Daryl.” Y/N frowns picking up their knife and putting it in its sheath pushing past him.

________

“You’re seriously leavin’? For how long?”

“Just for a week. Why the fuck does that matter to you?”

“Who’s gonna help me and Y/N—-“

“No. I’ve told yea. Countless times. Not to take Y/N on these runs. Your buyers can wait and this Jesse dude? Will get his money later” Daryl picks up his bag looking at the oblivious but happy six year old sitting at the coffee table fiddling with a plush bear he’s never seen before. “Did you steal that?”

“Isn’t stealing bad?”

“Na—-“

“Yes. Don’t listen to your old man. And don’t go to sketchy places with him either.”

“Who gonna watch me?” Y/N frowns looking up at her uncle as Merle gave him more of an amused one. They both can be jerks.

“Your dealer…can fucking wait another day” Daryl snaps at his brother slamming the door on his way out resulting in the kid flinching.

Merle turns to his kid thinking what would happen if he left her at home but then he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Daryl if he came home before him.

“You win this round, kid”

________

“Y/N! Y/N!” Daryl yells off the top of his lungs taking out every walker in sight growing anxious the more screaming he heard from these people.

A loud whistle rang through as the archer quickly drew his attention to the RV finding Y/N on the ladder after they had taken a few sickos out to get there to grab their uncle attention.

Once the threat was taken care of, Daryl quickly went to his kid checking their person finding the whistle around their neck. It’s a dumb otter shape whistle that he bought when both Merle and him lost Y/N in a zoo. Of course they would be a wanderer. Y/N snapped in his face to get his attention back as he did another check of their person only to get punched in the shoulder.

“You bit?!”

“No! You find dad?”

“No…found something of him but I don’t think you wanna know”

You’re right. I don’t. Y/N frowns watching the sobbing display happening around them as a part of them started to feel guilty for liking the time without their dad around.

But they couldn’t help it. With a father like that, why would you want to be around them?

________

Merle carried his plastic bag of belongings out of the prison to be greeted with his truck and his brother’s enraged expression.

“Where the fuck is the rugrat?”

“At home. With a babysitter”

“Wow how the fuck did yea—-“ Merle was suddenly cut off by Daryl punching him right in the jaw making him stumble to the ground. “Hey what gives?”

“YOUR FUCKING KID GOT A HOLD OF YOUR STASH AND ALMOST DIED” Daryl snaps not giving a damn of the curious guard watching the interaction. “If you don’t do fucking better. CPS will take her”

“So? She’d be somewhere fucking better”

Daryl frowns about to kick Merle’s ass when it clicked to him.

“If you wanted to be a goddamn father so much, why didn’t you take the responsibility from me?”

________

Daryl blames a lot of Y/N’s childhood on himself. He should’ve been more present then a lot of the mistakes that occurred wouldn’t have happened.

Her overdosing on her father’s supply, making him lose temporary custody of her.

They’re coming out resulting in a few profanities thrown and Merle expressing his very conservative side. Inevitably having them run away until they realized three days in a drug addict’s apartment is better than a park bench.

The attempt during a time where the only one who understands responsibility wasn’t there…to a relapse that he wish didn’t happen

Amongst a whole lot of other things…Daryl really wanted to give them a life they wanted even when the world ended.

But the universe keeps on taking…

“You followed one of my men” This unknown voice didn’t freak out Y/N entirely. They’ve been in these situations way too often in the world before. Mostly watching their dad get the shit beat out of him by an angry drug lord’s goons. “How did you even manage to catch up? He was in a car and when you got caught. You were on foot”

“Could’ve been a track star if god gave me more of a nuclear family instead of one idiot being my dad and the other being an absent family member half the time” Y/N kicked their feet amused as their hands were straining to the rope. The footsteps drew closer but stopped where they couldn’t turn around to see who it was.

“Where did y’all come from? Where’s your camp?”

“Gonna take a whole lot for me to just roll over, buddy”

The voice sighed before approaching the door to the room they were in and opening it. Letting another set of unknown footsteps bring themselves in. Y/N couldn’t make out the hushed whispers.

But the flinch Merle experienced about to land a punch on Glenn, made him stop trying to get answers out of the guy. All he did was listening to the screaming that both knew wasn’t Maggie.

“Who followed yea”

“What?”

“ANSWER ME” Merle snaps at Glenn instead of throwing punches as he didn’t reply right away but given the look in his eyes.

The Governor watched as his right hand stepped out with a rage filled expression about to deck the man beside him that had bloodied knuckles.

“Who else did y’all find?”

“Why does that matter? Did you get anything out of the guy?”

“No—Now answer—“

“Just some teenager that was with them. They weren’t giving answers so boss man had me work my magic” The brute laughs slightly as the Governor noticed Merle’s tense composure and clenched fist.

“You said your brother is a part of this group. After recognizing the guy”

“So?”

“Do you know the girl?”

“No, but I was about to—-“

“I’ll go talk to the girl…you talk to your kid” The Governor pats Merle’s shoulder, heading back inside with the other.

Leaving Merle to find himself standing outside the door where his kid, his fucking blood that they beat to get answers out of, sat waiting and not knowing what is happening to their friends.

The door opening caused Y/N to flinch in their fetal position lifting their head to look at the door but that was difficult given their left eye swollen shut and the other they didn’t want to open at all.

“What hurts”

Y/N couldn’t help the painful laugh to escape their bruised throat. They uncomfortably turned their body to the other side even if it meant laying on more broken ribs.

“Kid. What. Hurts.” Merle yells causing them to flinch once more but also him retract a bit. “Y/N…I ain’t asking anything else. Not asking about your camp. Daryl. Nothing. Just you”

“Now? N-NOW?!” Y/N snaps wincing when they raised their voice, struggling to sit up as Merle took note of the pain they were experiencing in their wrists and legs when getting up. “Why is it now that you fucking care?!”

“Y/N—-“

“Just cuz you got your goddamn hand cut off doesn’t mean you just fucking book it. Or not even bother to go and find your goddamn kid.” Y/N stopped to spit up some blood making Merle grow anxious as he tried stepping close but they stepped back. “I knew you never gave a fucking damn about me. You only cared when I was smaller or when I was your goddamn pack mule—-I SHOULDVE JUST BEEN YOUR KID. NOT YOUR GODDAMN HELP” they dropped on that last note feeling the pain get the best of them as the tears came on. “What I learned from yea…helps me now…never helped me then…do you even remember the good years? Where you were actually a dad?”

“I never wanted you” Merle finally admits the one thing, Y/N has been begging him since they knew better for him to straight up say. But the pain started to become unbearable as he spoke. “Daryl reminded me everyday how terrible of a father I was. How I was like your grandpa. Be thankful you never met the fuck”

“I’ll send a postcard to hell” Y/N curls up a bit hunched over. “What the fuck are you getting—-“

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t love yea. I never wanted you. But you were the best thing to happen, next to leaving my old man’s place to escape his abuse. The only reason you came out with a heart wasn’t because of me.” Merle frowns kneeling to his kid’s level checking their person with his eyes knowing if he tried to touch they’d lash out. “But because of Daryl. When I was in prison for the four years you can barely remember, he raised yea. He took yea to school. Got you what you wanted the right way. He told the social worker the day you OD’d, that he would take custody of yea”

The tears running down their face were turning into more of a mix. The pain…and the pain caused by the blur of those four years that they couldn’t accept because of all the agony caused in all the others.

“Dad…I wanna go home” Y/N begs reaching out to him as Merle carefully took them into his arms quickly breaking the knife off the other so that he could carry his kid out of there when the moment was right.

But the group was already going to rescue them.

When Merle stepped out carrying Y/N in his arms feeling their grip weaken, he was stopped by both Maggie and Glenn aiming the stolen weapons at the man. Maggie was confused about the two being together but that was a story for later, and Merle turned to Glenn who instantly knew what was happening.

“You follow me and I’ll help yea out of here. As long as you take them”

“Deal. But you can’t follow us”

“No shit. I don’t like yea…but I know they mean something to all of yea.” Merle states handing Y/N off as they suddenly grabbed a fist full of his shirt staring him down. “This is for your safety and your groups. Now follow me”

Merle got the three out, but also ran into the others. Who wants to kill Merle is pretty much what was happening as everyone wanted a piece of the man except those he shares blood with. For the most part. Glenn and Maggie protested against having the eldest Dixon stay with them at the prison, but given he lead them out of there and that he didn’t go through with prying it out of Glenn…they bent. But only if he listened to them and helped them work with Woodbury or get rid of the threat.

“They alright?”

“They passed out after the adrenaline wore off. Should be fine as long as they don’t move for a while” Hershel checked their pulse for the third time since returning to the prison before getting up to leave the cell room when both Dixon brothers stared intensely at the doc. “If the bruising on their side from the broken ribs gets worse, I’ll have to relieve it with what I’ve got”

“Could steal medical supplies from Woodbury”

“You’re a fugitive” Daryl frowns. “Need to find somethin’ now to take care of it”

“Y’all can’t do anything to save them if we have a target on our backs” Rick interrupts the two for only a second but clearly their attention wasn’t going to be taken unless something more major happens. “Merle. Think you can map out Woodbury of its weak—-“

“I’ll give yea whatever the fuck you want if it means you’d leave me alone for goddamn five minutes” Merle snaps leaving with Rick to take care of business as Hershel steps out to grab a few things for Y/N, ultimately leaving Daryl alone with them.

As Daryl sat beside Y/N’s bedside in place of Hershel, he watches them stir a bit from discomfort making him tug the blanket to cover them more and resting the back of his hand on their forehead.

“M’not hot”

“Just double checkin’.”

“Ain’t no doc…” Y/N flinched to the sound of Daryl’s chair moving when all he wanted was to bring it closer. “Dad didn’t do it…”

“He’s told me who fucking did it, and he ain’t livin’ for much longer” Daryl states watching Y/N fall back asleep as that moment Rick came back needing his input on the plan.

Talking to the Governor is full proof. Being civil about it before taking matters into your own hands. Or Merle’s. Daryl left with Rick and a few others for the meeting with the Governor. Merle decided to take that opportunity to steal medical supplies from his old community for Y/N and extra for the hell of it. Michonne followed Merle to get answers of her own but also make sure he wasn’t leaving to tell anybody anything.

They will be okay. They will be okay. Merle frowns getting everything they will possibly need as his thoughts and actions were interrupted by the door springing open.

The swordsman quickly drew her katana when Merle drew his knife. The two relaxed realizing who it was but given Michonne’s issue with the guy, she kept an eye on him.

“I heard stories”

“So?”

“You think you can do all of this to redeem yourself for the pain you inflicted on this group? Let alone your own child”

“They’re practically an adult, I’m not doing this shit for anybody else but my kid, and I’m not looking for a fucking award” Merle snaps filling the duffle with anything and everything in the medical ward. The unexpected thing was Michonne receiving the duffle. “And I ain’t letting that bastard live”

Michonne returns. No Merle. Daryl leaves in search for Merle while the group in the prison prepares for an attack.

Hershel checks Y/N once more when they were moved in a secure area that won’t be affected by the attack. He notices their eyes following his movements and thought something was going on physically but once he stopped checking their bruising, they sighed.

“How are you feeling?”

“Useless…”

“You are hurt, the others don’t want yea risking further injury”

“Yknow…when my dad was missing…I was kind of relieved.” Y/N frowns fiddling with the buttons on their shirt. “Not like…I didn’t have the freedom when he was around…least I didn’t have to hear him bitch when I did shit…”

The doc took their wrist to check their pulse like he’s been doing every hour but also listening to their rambling that he thought was them reaching unconsciousness again. But they kept on.

“Now he’s back…yea think he gonna leave again?”

“When I was an alcoholic…the first time around, I’d disappear to avoid disappointing my family. Yeah to the local watering hole but didn’t want to hurt Maggie and Beth with my presence…” Hershel sets their arm down bringing the blanket back to cover them. “But it hurt them more not to have me there for’em. I don’t know your dad. Or your uncle for that matter. Besides that both would do anything for yea…I doubt they’re gonna leave in any way.”

The reassurance was needed.

Again.

And again.

Y/N watches from the entrance to their cellblock as Rick helps direct Woodbury folk out of the bus they took. Daryl quietly approaches their side sitting on the steps with them as they kept their gaze away from him after hearing the news. Recklessness was definitely a Dixon thing. Except only two out of the three know how to save themselves.

“We don’t have to talk about it”

“Good. I don’t want to”

Daryl frowns wanting to find the right words then remembered what he found on Merle’s body and got up for a second to retrieve it from his bike. When he returned, Y/N watches as the photo comes into their view taking it from their uncle’s extended hand.

“Your old man never left without that. Even when we both thought he was the worse father anybody could have” Daryl returns to his seat right beside them. “You were a pain as a baby. Found myself sleeping in the truck to leave Merle to take care of you. But when I came back one morning, you were sound asleep on him. So I took that for him. Thought he didn’t like it. Found it on his person when…he died.”

Y/N continues to stare at the photo letting the achey feeling in their chest get worse and ultimately make the tears roll off their cheeks.

“That son of a bitch…”

[nrdmssgs]

The dropouts (part 2)

Masterlist

Part 1 I you are here I Part 3 I Part 4 I Part 5 I Part 6

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, action, slow burn.

Pairing: Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova (OC) x Nikto

Summary: Nikto tries to remember, why didn’t he kill his competitor on a battlefield. And when he fails to recall - he asks her personally.

TWs: This whole series will be revolving around a person living with an acute dissociative disorder. Depiction of an act of self harming.

“Cmon, commander, I know, you can make it happen.”

There are very few people out there, who manage to stay unbothered by Niktos intence piercing gaze. König is one of them.

“I can make many things happen.” Colonels voice is cold and calm. “Doesn’t mean, i am actually going to.”

“Kak znal, blya,”* mutters Nikto, and then takes a step forward. “I fucked up. Big time. I admit, König.”

Now this is rare. So rare to hear Niktos apologies, that Colonel stops roaming through the reports on his desk and finally looks back at him. To Königs disappointment, his subordinate shuts up at the very same moment.

“You think, it’s a punishment?”

“That you can make one phone call and let me meet that soldier for a talk, but you specifically choose to not? Exactly after I fucked up my last mission? Looks pretty much like a sanction to me.”

“And what are going to talk about?”

Nikto clenches his teeth to not let the “that’s not of your business” out, so König continues.

“KorTac has no beef with Chimera and that’s how I plan to keep things between us. Sending you to whatever you mean under ‘the talk’ you want to have with their second in command, doesn’t sound like a winning strategy here.”

Second in command? Nikto could easily strangle that soldier with his bare hands and they put her in charge? He smirks under the mask to the thought of how easily the notorious Nikolais PMC could get beheaded.

“Only you couldn’t even touch her.” A too familiar voice awakes deep inside Niktos skull. He ignores it, not wanting to show König how unwell is he right now. But it seems like his boss has nothing more to tell him, so Nikto leaves his office.

“She was so ridiculously tiny next to us. Standing there, calling for us, begging to be broken. And you failed.”

“Shut up.” Nikto mutters in a low voice, so that nobody around notices.

Every long hallway looks just like a previous one. He turns left twice, then right. The voices don’t like this part of the base: usually they feel lost here, they beg him to stop going in circles and lead them out to the fresh air. They try to convince him, it’s an endless maze, but Nikto knows the way out. He learned it but heart. Left, left, right, down, left, up, up, right. No matter how loud they cry for help, how convinced they are, that they all are doomed - Nikto follows the path. Usually the voices forget everything, they were talking about previously, when they are dragged here. Usually. But not today.

“Could have drowned her in a puddle of mud. Could have broken every limb: nice and slow. Could have fed her our knife and stomped on her face. But you failed. Surrendered.”

“Shut up.” He hisses, dragging a long exhale through the clenched teeth.

“Failure. Bet, she’s laughing at you right now.”

“Zavali ebalo, mraz!”* His voice echoes in an empty hall, but Nikto doesn’t care anymore. With one swift motion he takes out his knife and pins his own palm against the wall, pushing the blade into the heavily scarred skin. The voices switch to the pain, Nikto is causing to himself. The invisible choir screams around him, but Nikto only pushes the blade deeper. Dark red strains run down his arm and color his uniform sleeve in crimson.

***

Nikto didn’t abandon his plans to meet the Chimera soldier. She owed him an explanation, but even more - she owed him a story. Because he couldn’t remember anything after the gun shot fired right over his face. Luckily he hasn’t exhausted all avenues to meet her yet. KorTac employees were quite free to take any mission as private contractors as long as it wasn’t at cross-purposes with the company plans.

Nikto searched and took any contract that promised crossing paths with Chimeras: from small courier missions to large operations bordering with heists. For two months this kept making his bank account prettier, but that wasn’t what he craved. Nikto kept searching, hunting for that soldier restlessly, until one day they met.

***

It feels like one of the most boring private contracts, he ever took: he’s a bodyguard for some shady piece of shit, who tries to start a business with the Chimera. His employee asked Nikto, if he’s ready to be left trapped with a half of an enemy army. Niktos answer was plain.

“It wont be me trapped with them, it will be them trapped with me.”

Nikto checks the private room in a rowdy club, where his clients meeting is planned, and walks outside.

“You’re clear to enter, i will be right behind the door. Anything goes wrong, or at least seems to go wrong - you call me. Just don’t make sudden moves.” He instructs the employee and leans against the wall, waiting for the other party to arrive.

They enter the hall at the very last minute before the official meeting time. First comes a tall man, his face is hidden behind a dark green tactical net. His eyes scan the hall and stop, meeting Niktos gaze.

“Zhar, they brought a fancy door stopper.” He sounds amused and relieved, as if he too was too bored with the upcoming meeting.

“Stop scoffing Krueger,” Nikto recalls this voice immediately, his body tenses, a cold hard knot forms somewhere deep in his throat. “They can bring whoever they-“

She falls silent as soon as her partner walks past Nikto revealing them to each other. Her gaze is the same as it was back when they first met. Grey irises with a slightly brighter green flame dancing around her pupils. Eyes of a bird of prey, looking at him with such an intensity, that he feels as if she sees right through his mask, maybe even right through his skin. She doesn’t say a word to him, only commands her soldier to wait for her and disappears behind the door.

A loud club music is muffled by many doors separating this place from the main hall. Krueger looks around in a search of anything to keep himself busy, but there is nothing out there. So he gives in and turns to Nikto.

“How much do they pay you?”

Nikto doesn’t realize, the guy is talking to him, until he repeats his question.

“Not enough.” Nikto smirks. “And you? Does this Zhar pay you extra for the curtain to stay on?”

“You’re so not ready for this talk, mister Aliexpress Voorhees.”

They both stay silent for a few long minutes and then Nikto lets out a very short chuckle. It is a rare occasion, a stranger breaks the ice in a first talk with him. Krueger laughs back, more relaxed and openly, and then adds.

“Zhar didn’t like you for some reason. But if you don’t do anything stupid - we should be good.”

Nikto knows exactly, why this woman didn’t appreciate meeting him. But that is not his story to share with any Chimera other than her. He looks at the door, behind which his client has a meeting and thinks, what will he say to Zhar once he has a chance. He stands still, but his heart rushes so fast as if he was running after someone for hours already.

The door opens and his client marches out with a mixed expression on his face. Nikto starts following him as soon as the man walks past him.

“Avoid having business with the Russians at any costs. Zhar, her boss Nikolai - both greedy as fuck, will push you for every penny.”

Nikto remains silent, wondering if his Slavic accent wasn’t obvious enough for the client to notice, that he himself hired a Russian. They walk through the corridors and halls of the club, Nikto scans the surroundings in a search of any external danger, but everything seems fine.

When his client is finally back in the car - Nikto turns back to the club almost immediately, as his contract ends right here. He rushes through the dancing crowd back to the door to private rooms. On his way out, he didn’t pay much attention to these people, just made sure, they don’t stand in his clients way. But now he grows more irritated with every next body not moving away fast enough. He’s in a hurry - Zhar can leave any minute now, if she hasn’t already left through some back door. He pushes obstacles away, not carrying for their frustrated yells, that are cut off only, when people around him see, what a massive beast is striding from an entrance to a VIP zone.

Nikto catches them in the hall: Zhar stops in her tracks, watching the tremendous soldier marching right to her. When there are no more than four meters left between them - Krueger points his pistol Nikto in the face. His friendly demeanor is gone in a second, but Nikto remembers the rules.

“Not planning anything stupid,” Nikto slowly raises hands. “Just need to talk. Privately.”

“Dream on,” growls Krueger, but Zhar cuts him off with a silent gesture.

She looks up Nikto in the eyes, as if she can read something there. Her gaze awakes an uncanny feeling deep in his guts - he feels paralyzed, helpless once again. Just when she put a knife to his throat back on the battlefield. It feels like forever, but after a few moments she finally nods.

“Your weapons stay outside the room. The door stays open. I have…” She hesitates, glancing at Krueger.

“Ten minutes top, commander. Your transport is coming soon.”

“Ten minutes, soldier,” the woman repeats after Krueger and nod to the entrance, “Come in, let’s make it quick and easy.”

They spend the first minute in silence: Nikto is tapping an erratic rhythm on the table top and Zhar just leans against the back of a comfy sofa, using every minute to rest before further work. Usually Nikto is absolutely calm about the tight timing on missions. It adds challenge, makes his work more or less entertaining. But now every second puts more pressure on him. He had plenty of time to plan this talk, he replayed it on and on for two months, while he was chasing her, he had the right words for every possible reaction of hers. But right now all the plans, all the variations of his lines mix together, clash and transform into some nonsense.

She takes a deep breath in and Nikto notices, that she looks worn out.

“Tough meeting?” He doesn’t know, where did this question come for: he didn’t come here to feel for her.

“You sure you want to spend next nine minutes discussing my work?” She squints her eyes and massages her temples. And that is when Nikto finally recalls one of the lines he prepared for the start of their talk.

“Callsign is Nikto, I work for-“

“Who you are is nothing, big guy.” Niktos fingers run cold after she says that. Is it because of his callsign? She just mocks him for being called ‘nobody’?* To his relief, she continues talking after a short pause. “What you are is everything. And what exactly are you right now? A message? A weapon? A threat?”

He clenches his jaw. Something deep inside him is begging to snap back at her with a harsh reaction, but he holds back.

“A man with a question.”

“Shoot,” Zhar finally opens her eyes and moves closer to the desk, closer to him.

“Back there. Why didn’t you kill me?”

“You think, I should have?” An unkind smile starts spreading on her face like an ugly scar. A smile, Nikto wishes to put away from her face right there for good.

“Na vopros otvechai!”* His voice grows angry, low rumbling resembling predatory growl. He wasn’t sure, she would understand his mother tongue: nowadays one doesn’t even have to be born in Russia to get called ‘a greedy Russian’. But a sudden change of her face expression signalizes, that she understood him just right.

Zhar moves to the very edge of the sofa and reaches out to him. Her hand freezes in mere centimeters from his chest, or to be more precise - from the empty Velcro slot.

“There was something right there. A KorTac patch. Pretty little thing.” Ugly grimace gradually fades from her face with every next word as she seems so relax, telling Nikto her story. “I was out of ammo, any radio turned useless after traders turned on their jammers, and I couldn’t run forever from this soldier, with his questionable arms choices. When I saw it on you - it dawned on me: you were my ticket out of there. My people find me - I come back with a reason, another PMC owes us a big one, your people find me - I have a hostage, that costs getting my ass out of there. The third party finds me-“

“You serve them my ass as an offering.” Nikto finishes the line for her. “Smart. So, who found you first?”

“You got out of there alive.” She leans back and crosses arms on her chest. “That’s what matters, Niktó.”

It doesn’t escape his ear, that the woman uses a heavy Slavic pronouncement for his callsign, stressing the last vowel. He feels, that their talk grows useless: both sides are still too frustrated by everything that happened between them. They don’t want to share anything too personal with each other, sensing that it might get used against them. But at the same time Nikto wants to get her talking. He needs to remember the full scene to understand, what happened to him. The only thing that stops him - he wouldn’t want to admit he has this choir of voices that sometimes take the wheel, leaving him no memories of what they have done.

“Maybe I have a soft spot for those who know, how to choose the right instrument for any occasion. And maybe I want to know if I’ve proven a fitting instrument for your needs back then?”

“You weren’t an instrument, you were a man trying to kill me.” Zhar abruptly stands up hinting him that this conversation is about to end. “Now how about we both admit that it all ended well and leave each other alone, no hard feelings?”

Nikto smirks, but quickly realizes, his mask hides his face expression. So he rises from his seat, takes off his glove and reaches out for a handshake. When Zhar squeezes his palm, he is about to say good buy, but instead of that he almost automatically tights his grip around her wrist and asks if they will ever meet again.

“We don’t need to. You do your job, I stick to mine. And Nikto…” Suddenly there is heavy fatigue clearly audible in her voice. Zhar falls silent for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. “The room is booked by Chimera until much later. It’s yours if you want, drinks on me. For… for not doing whatever you planned back there.”

She pulls her hand away and Nikto reluctantly gives up on holding it. He wouldn’t admit it, but the only condition, on which he would really agree to stay here: if she could stay as well. He wouldn’t even want to talk: just close the damn door to kill the last muffled booming music sounds and let her nap here for a bit. There is something deeply wrong with her professional demeanor cracking every few minutes under the pressure of a weariness. It seems like she’s running on fumes.

It seems like he cares.

* “Kak znal, blya,” - “I fucking knew it.”

* “Zavali ebalo, mraz!” - “Shut the fuck up, scum!”

* Nikto can be roughly translated to Russian as nobody no one.

* “Na vopros otvechai!”* - “Answer the question!”

[joanofexys]

Can you talk more about Florian and Mara airing out the Ravens dirty laundry? You mentioned it on my RIP Riko meme post and I’ve been curious about it. (Also just talk more about those OCs too if you wanted. Who are they n what’s their deal?)

with TSC now out I've been able to refine them and some of their facts and also more of what they'd spill about the Ravens and their experiences

putting this under the cut for TSC spoilers and also cause it'll probably be a long post

quick rundown of Mara and Florian's characters ig

Florian Laska (he/they):

19 years old

extremely bisexual

an early recruit to the Ravens who graduated high school early with the intent of running away from his mother as soon as possible

started playing for the Ravens at age 16

started as dealer but now plays as a striker

got a severe injury "in a scrimmage" with the Ravens that resulted in the loss of his leg, he continues playing with a prosthetic

fingers are heavily mishapen from being broken so many times and never set

dropped out Edgar Allan University for reasons still unknown (refusal to explain to the press)

wanted to be a nursing student

at the time of TSC is the youngest recruit for the olympic court and plays with fellow former raven Mara Fasil

commitment issues

covered in scars the most noticable being around his wrists, self harm scars, and a bite mark on his neck

learned french from Jean and Mara and bits and pieces of arabic and berber from Mara

told Kevin if his hand didn't get better they could just chop it off and give him a new one like they did with Florian's leg

Mara Fasil (she/her):

23 years old

if I did my math right she would've been a junior at the time Florian started with the Ravens

i don't actually remember if the Ravens have rules against partners being different genders but um if they do then fuck that because Mara was Florian's partner and they're still unhealthily codependent

wanted to major in architecture

she's lost track of how many times her nose has been broken but she's pretty sure it's in the double digits. has been pressured to get surgery to straighten it and refuses to

a raging lesbian who's also a raging asexual

personally i think she should date thea but idk ig i can't have everything

a dealer

still has not adjusted to 24 hour days

graduated in 4 years instead of the expected 5 which was partially motivated by Florian dropping out

ANYWAY these two are major troublemakers especially for their Olympic teammates. Florian is typically much more subdued and grounded than Mara who is more hot tempered and has trouble watching her mouth except for that time that Florian yelled at Tetsuji in front of a bunch of players from a variety of teams (and immediately threw up) (this was post leaving the Ravens)

Mara has a bad habit of just not shutting her mouth around the press now that she's allowed to be in front of them. she will not so subtly imply that most of her injuries are not from innocent practices and games. Has engaged in twitter discourse by dropping memes (specifically dropped one of that grant gustin peace sign meme with riko's name on the grave and "me" written over grant gustin shortly after riko's death)

Florian's exposure of the Ravens is largely from slip ups in front of the press. Pulled a Kevin Day "did you never know I've never been skiing" implying him losing his leg wasn't caused by a really bad scrimmage injury and was a lot more purposeful than that. Refused to meet with the press for 3 months following the incident.

it's almost impossible to catch the two separately. and if they aren't seen together they're always with someone else (usually Emiko or another member of the Olympic team, who did not sign up for this shit rip). Florian specifically has a godawful time not being with someone 24/7 (if he's at an Exy event and can't find any of his team he will purposefully seek out other Ravens, usually Kevin or Jean if he can find them, or Thea if she's there)

It's by the time TSC rolls around/the end of TKM that Florian starts getting pissed off enough to start purposefully dropping hints to the press about the Ravens. When the investigation starts and Tetsuji resigns a lot of his comments become a lot more targeted and it eventually results in Jeremy seeing enough that he contacts Kevin to get Florian's contact info so he can hopefully get some answers (he is only somewhat successful and Florian tells him it's only cause he has such a pretty face)

I don't know how yet but one of them, Florian I think, has some ties to the Moriyama's albeit distant that manage to snag them some level of protection from Ichirou so they don't yk get killed

Florian has visible scarring he does often hint at coming from other Ravens and it being purposeful. Mara has outright stated she was a target of many of her teammates. Mara has also called the Ravens a shit team which Florian then tried to smooth over and failed to do so (couldn't call them a good team without implying they're only that successful cause they play dirty)

Florian's a lot more snarky (and really just an outright cunt) in private and without cameras in his face but if he's being hounded enough it'll come out and he has flipped off more reporters than he'd like to admit

basically they're stupid and stumbling their way through dealing with the press for the first time in their lives and it just happens to coincide with the Ravens having the WORST time

that's where i'm leaving it cause this shit has gotten too long omg though i'd love to talk about Em and Ilya at some point I cannot keep writing an essay on these guys lmao

[demoneyecandy]

Lust and Love - Part 1

Work: Lust and Love (Part 1)

WC: 6.4k Relationship: Asmodeus x Reader, Asmodeus x MC AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and gendered terms used for reader Warning: Explicit, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Yes, my Asmo is probably ooc, do I care? Not really. He’s my poor little meow meow and I’ll decide why he’s crying.

Description: Asmodeus is having trouble with self-destructive habits, as usual, but this time M/C is there to break him out of his spiral. He shows his appreciation in a very on-brand way.

The fifth-born knew that people talked about him. How could they not? He was simply the most interesting being in all three realms, who could blame them? Some would call him flawless, confident, and sensual – he wasn’t prized in the Celestial Realm for nothing. Others called him vapid, self-absorbed, apathetic, loose, among other nasty comments. If anyone asked, he’d reply that he didn’t pay any attention to the haters. Why would they matter when everyone else knows he’s perfect? And if anyone noticed that after a day with more insults than usual Asmo would be tanked within half an hour of leaving the house? Well, that was just a coincidence. They all know he loves to party, don’t make it a bigger deal than it needs to be.

With the introduction of social media to the Devildom his behavior only spiraled out of control. Devilgram served as a permanent reminder that no matter what he did he would not be universally loved. For someone like Asmo, that was his weakness. The insults cut a lot deeper than he would ever show. His whole identity was based around being desirable. He was the Avatar of Lust, not a scumbag or shut-in like his brothers.

Though the people leaving those comments kept their voices down when he passed them in the halls at RAD, the anonymity of the internet emboldened them. The negative comments were quickly reported by his fans but that didn’t stop them from being burned into his mind. From the more basic “whore” and “stuck-up bitch” to the more involved, “Who does he think he is? He’s not that cute”, “Idk why this loser has so many simps”, “bet he only has this many likes on his posts because he fucked them all lmao”, he had gotten all types of negative comments on his social media posts. When he would complain to his brothers in his usual over-the-top fashion, eyes full of tears and voice several octaves higher than it needed to be, they would shrug him off the same way they did when he told them about his favorite hair product line being discontinued or missing a sale at Majolish. In a way, that was probably his fault – if he gave two things the same weight in the way he presented the problem, of course his family would assume it was just Asmo being dramatic again.

Sometimes at night, when memories of the war haunted him, he would open his phone and scroll through the comments on the Devilgram posts he’d made that day. Anything to occupy his thoughts. The positive ones faded into the background – he knew he was beautiful; he knew he was a fashion icon, and that his skin was flawless. He also knew he wasn’t worth the attention he received, and yet he craved it more than air. He’d re-read every nasty thing that had been said about him, letting the words sink in and join the swirling torrent of self-hatred in his head. He genuinely didn’t know why he did it – maybe the same reason he’d go out and indulge in his sin every night he could. Diavolo had once tried to get the brothers to speak to some counselors after they fell, and his counselor had said his behavior seemed like a form of self-harm. That was the last time he saw that poor excuse for a therapist – how in the world could pleasure be harmful? Of course, there were the times where pain was involved, but that was all consensual. He’d never allow anyone to mar his gorgeous skin. He had already spent ages trying every suggestion he’d ever received to make his scars fade to the point that they were nothing more than barely-there pale lines from cuts and missing spots of pigmentation from burns, he certainly wouldn’t risk adding more. He felt like everyone could see them, like everyone was staring, but he knew rationally that they were only noticeable to him.

When the exchange student had first arrived and he had discovered that she was immune to his abilities, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent a few nights making his way through the highlights of his little black book. His booty calls were proof that he was desirable in the form of men and women writhing in his sheets until the early hours of the morning. When he realized that she liked him anyway? That was the best he had felt in a long time. On the outside of course he played it off, keeping up his flirtatious banter with the human. But to realize that there was someone who liked him, not because of his charm? Or because he could make them feel good? It was exhilarating and terrifying. Sure, she likes him now, but what about when she realizes what everyone else has? That he’s nothing but a bed warmer with a pretty face? He dreaded that day. It was coming sooner or later, he knew it, so he would just do his best to keep the human from seeing any of the cracks he covered up with product.

It was one of those nights tonight. He broke a nail and the visible imperfection sent him into a tailspin until he could get to his room and fix his manicure. As he waited for the polish to dry, he was scrolling through the comments on a selfie he had posted during lunch at RAD. M/C had said he looked cute, so he wanted to believe it, but here he was. Giving so much weight to the opinions of people who couldn’t even say shit to his face.

His spiral was interrupted before it could really get going by a knock on his bedroom door. If it were anyone else he’d yell at them to go away, but he knew from the pattern of the knock that it was M/C.

“Just a moment, darling” he called.

Jumping out of bed, he walked over to his vanity to be sure his hair was perfect and his lip gloss didn’t need to be reapplied.  As satisfied with his reflection as he could ever be, he put on a smile and made his way to open his door. Leaning sensually on the doorframe, he gave M/C his best “fuck me” eyes as he greeted them;

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the most delectable human in the three realms. How can I help you, dear?”

M/C’s face lit up and she laughed at the demon’s antics.

“I’m having some trouble winding down for the night, and I thought I could relax here for a little bit. It’s so calming when you play with my hair”.

Asmodeus was both relieved and frustrated as the human walked past him and settled onto his bed. On the one hand, his spiral had been interrupted before he could do anything particularly self-destructive. On the other hand, it meant he was all amped up with negative feelings and no real outlet for them. There was none of the catharsis that comes along with making bad decisions. It was like that dread and anxiety and self-hatred was sitting in his gut, but he certainly wasn’t going to let M/C see him crack if he could help it. He slowly shut his bedroom door and sat next to where his human had made herself comfortable on his bed.

His eyes roamed her body, lingering just a bit too long on her plush thighs and the peek of skin where her pajama top rode up. It took her a second, but she realized where his eyes were lingering, and she quickly pulled down her shirt. That was fine by him, all it did was expose her collarbones, which he took in just as happily. She blushed and turned away, hoping to regain her composure before he noticed the red tint in her cheeks. She had no such luck, but it was cute that she thought she could hide anything from him.

He did his best to keep the predatory glint out of his eyes. The demon knew that if he came on too strong she would back off, like she had on the few occasions he’d run into her after a night out and his confidence got the best of him. The next morning he would pretend he had blacked out, but he treasured the memories of the trembling of her frame beneath his hands when he’d come in close to whisper in her ear some of the naughty thoughts he’d had about her and the startled noise she’d made the time he slapped her ass on his way up to bed. It had been just his luck that Mammon had been at the end of the hallway, so he’d gotten quite the talking to from Lucifer the next morning. Something about not taking advantage of the exchange student, how he had to show more respect, the reputation of Diavolo’s exchange program, blah blah blah. The only thing he had cared about was that it hadn’t been M/C herself who’d told Lucifer, it had been a jealous brother. He had, in fact, felt a lovely spark of lust rise up in his human on every occasion he’d gotten bold from the (frankly, impressive) amount of demonus in his system. After all, he’s a demon, not a monster. Sexual assault is anathema to sexual pleasure and therefore unacceptable at every level for the Avatar of Lust. Sometimes late at night when he’d touch himself he’d remember how she’d looked like a deer in the headlights, so afraid of his touch but so desperately wanting it just the same. Other times, when he was feeling more sentimental, he’d think of her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes softened when she looked at him.

After she thought her face was back to normal (it wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that when she just looked so damn cute), she moved around until her head was in his lap and her body was stretched out in a pile of his softest blankets, grabbing his hand and placing it on her head in an unvoiced demand for him to stroke her hair. His heart melted – this was all she ever asked of him. At the same time, a small voice in the back of his head spoke.

You know why she doesn’t try to fuck you, right? You’re not good enough for her and she knows it. I’m sure she’s fucking one of your brothers instead. She’s found someone who could satisfy her in a way you never could. After all, you’re nothing but a placeholder. Easy and good enough for a night, but why would she want you when she could have them? Why would she want damaged goods? A vapid, self-obsessed, pathetic excuse for a demon. You were a shitty angel too.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly, trying to will the thoughts away. He busied himself running his hands through M/C’s hair, carefully untangling any knots he found along the way. Her eyes had closed, letting herself sink into the feeling. There was a gentle smile on her face, and she raised her chin to lean into his touch, leaving her neck completely exposed. Vulnerable. She was allowing herself to be entirely vulnerable with him, a being who could slit her throat in an instant, or tug her hair hard enough to pull her head clean off her body. He felt tears well up in his eyes at her trust, but the thoughts kept coming, taking him back down into that bad place he had been heading for before M/C came to his door.

You’re nothing. She knows you’re nothing, and that’s why she isn’t afraid. Your pact makes you useless, you couldn’t hurt her if you wanted to. You’re a declawed kitten. Pathetic. Why would she want you? She has her pick of suitors in the Devildom, you wouldn’t even make the top-10. She pities you, that’s why she lets you touch her.

M/C had thought it was strange that Asmodeus had been quiet, but she figured he must have been tired, so she wasn’t going to bug him when he was already doing her a favor by calming her down for the night. Truthfully, she had just wanted to see her favorite demon. He had been more withdrawn at home for the last few weeks, spending more nights out at The Fall locking lips with anyone in arm’s reach and chugging demonus like it was water. She was mildly concerned for him. His brothers had said that he got in moods like this sometimes, but at least he wasn’t bringing home a new demon (or demons) every night. M/C wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but she was a little jealous hearing about his past behavior. She knew it was silly, it wasn’t like she even knew him then, and she had no say in what he did in his spare time. It wasn’t like she was a virgin either. Still, Levi had looked at her knowingly when they’d told her, recognizing the envy welling up in her.

She realized that something was wrong when she felt wetness drip onto her cheek.

“Asmo?” M/C opened her eyes, greeted with the most disheveled version of the Avatar of Lust that she’d ever seen. Not that that said much, she rarely saw him with a single hair out of place, but seeing his eyes puffy and tear tracks down his face was enough to seriously concern her. She sat up slowly, reaching to grab his hand from where it had paused in her hair.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” her thumb gently stroked across the back of his hand. Rather than the gesture comforting him, as she’d hoped, he made eye contact only to begin audibly crying. Still unsure what was happening, she pulled herself up onto her knees to face him, bringing her other hand to his face and holding mimicking the motions she was making on the back of his hand along his cheekbone. She tried to keep the movement steady, methodical, to give him something to focus on so he could calm down enough to tell her what was happening. He leaned into her touch, grabbing her hand with his free hand and holding it there like he was scared she’d disappear if he let go. She shushed him quietly, reminding him of her presence whenever he seemed to be retreating into his own head.

Neither of them know how long it was before Asmodeus’s sobbing turned into pathetic little hiccupping, his eyes long since dried out. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each of them too afraid to drag them back to the present moment. M/C spoke first.

“Can I get you anything? Some water? A washcloth?”

He nodded, avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and fear of what would happen next. The one thing he didn’t want to happen above all else had happened, and now she was going to steer clear of him. He was sure of it.

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand as she went to his bathroom in search of what he needed. Now alone on his bed, he felt so small and so fragile. He had only known M/C for a very, very small faction of his very, very long existence, but somehow he couldn’t imagine going back to the way things were before he’d met her – especially as she continued to live in the House of Lamentation and develop her relationship with his brothers and the residents of both the Demon Lord’s Castle and Purgatory Hall. He knew she was kind and patient, but all his mind would let him see was her laying under some nondescript body, laughing about how pathetic the fifth-born was as she was pleasured by someone else, letting the world know how weak and inadequate he was. That he was an embarrassment to his title. He would have kept crying at that point, but he wasn’t sure his body even had that much water left. This was going to do such a number on his skin, he’d really need to step up his game with his skincare routine. Going through his plan of attack was enough to focus his mind and calm him down in the few minutes it took M/C to find a drinking glass and a washcloth in his enormous bathroom.

The human handed him the glass, waiting for him to drink half before she took it from his hands to place on his nightstand. She gently wiped his face with the damp cloth, knowing he’d feel better without the salt staining his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so delicate with him, treating him like a valuable rather than something easily replaceable. The thought made his heart hurt, and brought with it a new wave of thoughts about how he wasn’t treated like that because he really wasn’t valuable. That his human was mistaken and she’d know it soon enough. She’d seen the first crack in his façade, it wouldn’t be too long now before she saw the rest.

As she went to get up to place the washcloth back in the bathroom, he made a little noise and grabbed for her hand.

“Asmo, I have to put this away. I’m not going anywhere, I swear, I just don’t want to leave something damp on your bedsheets”.

Reluctantly, he let go, and she went back to the bathroom as quickly as she could. Asmo had always been needy, this wasn’t news to anyone, but rarely had she seen him so desperate. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, she could see peeks of the Asmodeus he wanted to hide from the world. She knew the fall had been traumatic for all of them, but she wouldn’t pretend to know the extent of that kind of trauma. It wasn’t something that was her place to draw attention to, because no matter how much she loved them she knew that just love wasn’t enough when it came to dealing with something of that gravity. They needed to share at their pace, if they ever felt comfortable sharing at all. All she could do was hope that this was some kind of turning point for him, and that he was ready to be open with her. Well, as open as was healthy. Baby steps, right?

The demon visibly relaxed when she came back towards him. Climbing over him, she laid down on ‘her’ side of the bed as Asmo called it jokingly (it wasn’t a joke but he was pleading the fifth on that question). She made grabby hands, and a relieved Asmodeus rolled into her side, resting his head on her chest and winding an arm around her waist. She set her chin on top of his head and wrapped her arms around him as best she could. She knew he needed to feel completely safe if he was going to talk about whatever had just happened.

The two laid together for a bit, the sounds of the house creaking and his brothers going about their business throughout the house breaking up the quiet in a way that made it palatable. Finally, Asmodeus spoke in a voice lacking all of his usual bravado and charm.

“So, I’m guessing you’d like to know what that was about”.

“If you feel comfortable sharing. I’m here for you, Asmo, you won’t scare me away. You just have to trust me”.

A beat of silence passed before the man took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was definitely going to be a painful conversation on his end.

“I… I’m not sure where to start. You know what they called me in the Celestial Realm, right?”

A nod.

“The Jewel of the Heavens. My face, my body, my charm, it was something our Father truly valued. I was beautiful, and that’s how I earned my keep. I was an ornament. I didn’t mind it much at the time – why would I care when it was nothing but a positive? Even Lucifer loved to show me off, his beautiful little brother. The pride of the Celestial Realm”.

M/C maintained eye contact, not daring to interrupt but wanting to show she was listening. She moved one hand up to stroke his hair, like he had done to her a million times before.

“When we fell… I don’t think there’s any kind of corollary in a human life. I went from an admired figure, praised for my beauty, to nothing when I made the decision to rebel with my brothers and Lilith. I don’t regret my decision, don’t get me wrong, Lilith was one of the most wonderful beings I’ve met in my life. I still miss her even now”.

The demon broke eye contact, trying to hide the quiver in his voice as he thought of his dead sister. The pain of that kind of loss never actually goes away and it’s harder some days.

“The point is, as a result of that decision, I lost everything that I knew about myself. By the end of the war, I was covered in big, ugly scars, stripped of my status as an angel and turned into a demon - a being that I had been told since I was created was inherently evil, wrong, and unlovable. It took me years before I could look at myself in a mirror again. I wasn’t Asmodeus, Jewel of the Heavens. I was Asmodeus, a vile, unlovable Thing. I had to feel something again, I had to be someone again. That’s how I ended up like this – I found a way I could feel loved again, even if just for a night”.

Or, he thought to himself, more often an hour in a nightclub bathroom.

He continued speaking, too scared to look up at his human’s eyes and see disgust or contempt in them.

“I will never be the me I was again. Never. Even thousands of years later that isn’t something I’ve fully come to terms with yet. I feel broken and wrong. On good days I really do mean what I say – that I’m beautiful, irresistible, absolutely perfect in every way”.

His voice took on a lilt and a small smile twisted the corner of his mouth as he remembered the feeling of power that comes with his moments of genuine confidence. However, as he began again, his voice sounded unsure again and so very small.

“On bad days, it’s all I can do to get out of bed. If I’m not beautiful, if I’m not wanted, what’s the point? What’s the point of any of this? Sometimes, when I make them chase me, when I let them put their hands on me, I feel like I’m wanted. Just for a little while, and that’s enough. What more could I ask for? After all, I’m not Mammon, can’t get too greedy”.

He tacked on a joke at the end, complete with a clearly forced laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere that had settled over his room. He felt M/C press her lips to the crown of his head, still stroking his hair softly. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and she knew she had to be careful with the next thing out of her mouth.

“Asmodeus, you are worth so much. To so many people. To your brothers, to all of our friends, to me. I’m so proud of you for sharing that with me, it can’t have been easy”.

As she looked down, seeking his eyes, the demon saw only compassion in those eyes. It was a strange sight for him, and it made him feel something inside that he knew he had felt before, but he couldn’t quite remember when. It felt like there were butterflies in his stomach. There was some tension between them. Though it had an element of lust, it was moreso the unidentified emotion. He didn’t know what to do about that, so he decided to go with what he knew best- lust. Acting on muscle memory, he reached up to pull M/C’s head down to his. Surprised by Asmo pulling her down into a kiss when moments before he had been so vulnerable, M/C gasped and froze, allowing her pactmate to gain the upper hand.

The kiss was hungry and desperate from the start, definitely not how she imagined their first kiss beyond a casual peck on the lips, but it felt too good for her to dwell on that for long. With his tongue exploring her mouth he moved from his spot curled up on her side to get completely on top, pinning her in place. He held her wrists firmly above her head and his knees kept her thighs in place. His grip on her was somehow delicate and firm at the same time. The two let out little moans and pants between kisses, each losing themselves in the feeling of the other’s clothed body on their own. When Asmodeus separated their mouths, she followed his lips as far as she could, needing more. He shot her a look as though telling her to stay put, and she obeyed. His eyes were blown wide, glowing like a sunset. It was more out of habit than anything else since they knew his charm did nothing to her but it was undeniably beautiful.

The demon traced down her neck with messy kisses. If he weren’t a demon, she’d think he seemed like a man possessed. Between little nibbles and sucking, he panted out everything he was thinking, as if speaking it into her skin would make it so. When she concentrated, she could make out some of what he was saying over and over, almost like a prayer.

“I’ll be so good for you. I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t regret this. This will make you love me, I know it”.

She didn’t like to use her pact, but he was too lost in her body to listen if she asked nicely and his grip was too strong for her to break.

“Asmodeus, stop”.

He froze, a confused and hurt look on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes glowed brighter, as if subconsciously trying to fix whatever mistake he had made.

“Let go of me”. She tried to keep her voice even and maintain eye contact. She wanted to convey that she wasn’t upset, but he was clearly panicking inside his head.

The demon released her wrists, placing them on his own thighs. He tried to look away, ashamed, but the human gently directed his gaze back to her with a finger on his chin. She sat up against the pillows, trying to seem as serious as she could with disheveled clothing and red marks blooming all over her neck.

“Do you think that this is out of pity?” She desperately hoped that she had been reading into it too much, that he knew what she had been afraid to say. Her fears were confirmed when he cast his eyes downward and to the side, staring into space rather than meeting her eyes.

“Asmodeus, I can’t possibly imagine what you went through. You are so strong for going through that and still managing to be the funny, caring, genuine person that I know. What I do have some experience with is needing to feel wanted so badly that I’d let people touch me even when I wanted nothing more than for them to stop. I also know how absolutely garbage it feels when it’s over and they leave without so much as another word, I would just feel so used”. M/C’s eyes teared up as she remembered the feeling, but she blinked them away, willing herself to focus on the man in front of her.

“I never, ever want you to feel that way again. Not if I can help it. I love you, Asmodeus. Let me show you how much”.

A smile finally crossing his lips, albeit a small one, Asmo nodded. This time it was the human who brought their lips together, though their kiss was just as passionate as before. She caught the demon by surprise, rolling them over so she was the one pinning him to the bed. He looked up at M/C with pure adoration in his eyes, electrified by the love he saw reflected in hers and the lust he felt emanating from her soul. Finally confident that they were on the same page, M/C poured all of the affection she could into every touch, every kiss. She felt his hands travel up from their place on her waist to cup her breasts through her pajama shirt, moaning at his touch. Her sounds spurred him on, letting him regain some of his confidence. If there was one thing he knew he was an expert on, it was pleasure. He played with her nipples through her clothing and treasured every noise he was able to pull from her. Each gasp, every sigh, just emboldened him more. By the time he had stripped her of her top, he was fully in his element.

“Asmo”, she begged, “please, let me touch you too”.

She shifted her weight back onto her knees to make room for her demon to get out from under her. Readjusting so they laid side-by-side facing each other, they took the moment to stare into each other’s eyes. M/C’s smile was contagious, and Asmodeus couldn’t help but smile back. She hadn’t even touched him yet and she was already better than his fantasies. He hadn’t dared to let himself imagine her loving him, and he was going to treasure every second he got with her.

Her shaking hands made their way from his abdomen up to his chest, tweaking his nipples just to hear the noise he’d make before she got to work unbuttoning his pajama shirt. The more she teased him with brief touches, the more he squirmed for her. He was this close to ripping it off himself, and he really liked this pj set - he thought it brought out his eyes. Before he could finish deciding if it was worth popping the buttons off and maybe even a few seams, he felt the soft skin of the other’s hands finally trail up and down his torso. The demon made a noise almost like a purr, reminding M/C of his inhumanity in a thrilling way.

“Touch me”, it came out more as a breathy whisper than a demand, but she listened all the same.

Leaning over him to kiss down his neck and chest, the human used one hand to support her weight near his head and the other to trail down his body, stopping to cup his growing erection through his pants. An unexpectedly loud moan cut the air as she bit gently down on his nipple and began to stroke his cock.

“Shhh baby”, she said in a voice he’d never heard from her before, “You don’t want your brothers hearing and coming in here to stop us, do you?”. It was only then that he remembered he hadn’t locked his door earlier. From the grin spreading across her face as she looked towards the door, she knew it too. Asmo had never seen her look more mischievous in the whole time he’d known her and he was living for it. He was pretty sure he was witnessing the creation of a monster and he had no regrets, except that they hadn’t done this sooner.

Taking his silence for agreement, she got up only to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. She motioned for him to sit up and strip, which he did gladly. She took in the sight of his cock hungrily, eyes glazed over imagining what it would feel like in her pussy. He had seen that look many times and knew exactly what was going through her mind. Still, if he didn’t tease, would he even be Asmo?

With his bottoms thrown towards his laundry hamper, he spread his legs enticingly and grabbed the base of his cock. He stroked himself slowly, seeing M/C’s eyes fixate on a drop of precome on the head.

“Do you like what you see, my dear?” She could hear the grin in his voice. It was comforting to hear him sound like his usual confident self again.

“Very much”. Her hands began to rub along his thighs, appreciating the lean muscle she felt underneath her fingertips. “Can I taste you?”

“I thought you’d never ask, darling. Show me how you worship me in your daydreams”.

Her face lit up bright red. He couldn’t know, could he? He was just guessing, it was just dirty talk… right?

Swallowing the embarrassment she felt at the idea that Asmo knew the content of her fantasies, she began to rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss up and down his inner thighs.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you do more than that in those dreams of yours. How about you keep going, and you let me know if any of this rings a bell”. At this she began nipping at his skin every few kisses, soothing over any bites she made with her tongue.

“Let’s see, I think one of my favorites so far was in the library the other day. It was you, me, Satan, and Levi studying for the upcoming Seductive Speechcraft exam. About the time we were doing our individual reading, I recall you having some particularly interesting ideas. How did it start again?”

Her hand replaced his own stroking him, placing gentle kisses on his balls. She didn’t want this to end too soon and, honestly, she was curious if he actually did know what she had been thinking or if he just picked up on her getting horny that day and was trying to mess with her.

“Ah, yes”, his breath hitched as she dragged her tongue up the length of his dick, swirling around his head, only to kiss back down his shaft. “We were studying together, the same four of us that were actually there, but Levi and Satan got up to get a snack for us all. Once they left, I turned to you and told you how beautiful you looked”.

M/C’s hand sped up, and she leaned down to start sucking on the tip of his cock, keeping a steady pressure, and feeling proud at the flush in his cheeks. Slowly, she began to take him inch by inch in her mouth.

“I think after some flirting it took a rather raunchy turn, so let’s skip to the good part. I distinctly remember you dreaming of me sticking my hand down your panties and fingering you open, whispering sweet nothings to you the whole time”. M/C’s moan was muffled by the dick halfway down her throat, sending vibrations up Asmo’s cock. The sound of pleasure he made in response caused her to rub her thighs together, her own arousal obvious.

“What happened next? I think I lost my train of thought..”. M/C had gone down on him as far as she could, her nose nestled in the well-trimmed pubic hair on his pelvis. Asmodeus threaded his hand through her hair, pulling it up into a makeshift handle. She moaned, knowing what was about to happen. Asmo giggled, appreciating how eager she was for him to use her.

“That’s right”, he stared down at the woman with hooded eyes and his cocky grin, clearly back in his element, “you begged me to fuck your face”. Gripping her hair, he pulled back and thrust back into her mouth, hard. He let out a delighted gasp as her throat constricted around his dick.

“Darling, you feel so good, you’re such a good girl for me”, M/C’s eyes rolled back at the praise and as Asmo picked up the pace of his hips, she could do nothing but relax into his grip and let him use her. As his hips stuttered, she could feel him approaching his orgasm. Asmodeus made the most erotic sound the human had ever heard as he pulled her face flush to his body and released down her throat. M/C quickly swallowed, eager for more of him. He panted gently as he came down, relaxing his grip and transitioning to slowly smoothing her hair. The pair sat there for a moment to catch their breath.

“Holy shit”, M/C was the first to break the silence.

“Holy shit is right”, Asmodeus replied with a hungry grin. He reached a hand down to pull M/C up from her knees and into his lap. The two embraced, and Asmodeus felt himself hardening again at how he could taste himself on her tongue.

“Your turn now, sweetheart”, the demon cooed. Before M/C could say a word, the world spun and suddenly Asmodeus was laying on the bed and she found herself on her knees above his face. He licked his lips in anticipation before lowering her onto his face.

Maybe it was a demon thing, or maybe it was an Asmodeus thing, but the way his tongue moved on her clit and between her labia was like nothing she had experienced before. His mouth was hot, and wet, and almost electrifying as it managed to pinpoint her every weak spot. Every time she ground her hips into his face, embracing pleasure instead of running from it like she had with so many other men before him, he rewarded her with a moan, sending vibrations up into her body. The closer that M/C got to the edge, the harder she pulled on his soft curls, forgetting her own taunts about his brothers hearing and getting progressively louder. She came with a desperate cry of his name, squirting onto his face, which the demon excitedly lapped up with his tongue. M/C rolled off of his face and flopped bonelessly onto the bed. Asmodeus wasted no time climbing on top of her and bringing their lips together yet again, this time with a ferocity she had only imagined in her most erotic dreams. The feeling of his hard cock on the soft skin of her thigh made them both shiver in anticipation.

“Are you ready for me?” Asmodeus began, “I meant it before when I said I’d make it good for you. I want to make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before”.

“Well,” M/C said breathlessly, “mission accomplished”.

“Oh honey,” the demon laughed and his eyes began to glow again, “you have no idea what I’m capable of”.

Let me know what you guys thought! I’m going to write a second part if there’s interest. Cross-posted to AO3 with the same username. Thanks for reading <3  

[loganlostitall]

Better Off Dead

Rating: ehh… I’ll go with 13+

Word count: 2k

Characters: Rick Grimes x Gender neutral reader

Setting: Alexandria, after TOWL ep 1 (SPOILERS!!!)

Content warnings: HUGE SPOILER WARNING FOR THE NEW EPISODE!!!!!!!! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN READING!!! That’s two warnings don’t blame me. Self harm and suicidal ideation, this is an almost entirely mental health related drabble. Heavy talk of cutting and scars. Typical TWD themes.

Summary: FINAL SPOILER WARNING! Rick hasn’t even been back for a full day. He is also not the only one who suffered a psychiatric decline over the years you spent apart. Both you and him are unaware that the other was in a similar spot. Hurt/comfort ensues.

Author’s note: Did NOT expect to be writing a Rick x reader in the middle of the goddamn night but my theory about Rick’s hand got proven right within not even five minutes and I was losing my shit. I started trying to think of plot immediately and once I saw more on mental health I was gone. Me and my love for mentally ill men <3

I wanted to post this the same night as release it fought me hard 😭 never expected to be doing Rick x reader and wanted to be perfect. Once again, the title is linked to the songspo so you can listen along.

Unbeta’d again, hope this is decent for u guys :3

The very moment you woke up, the first thing you became aware of was the fact that you found yourself in bed alone. Not unlike all the other nights. It was routine by now. The occasional, unique circumstance of this particular morning though, was the urge. Unshakable. All encompassing. It crashed through your brain and down into your body, pulsing through your veins, begging to be drawn out and released. Trapped under your skin. Grief.

It was almost completely overwhelming, tears flooding your lower eyelids and venturing down to your lips just as a strangled sob ripped from between them, the sound a little hoarse from your voice being unused during sleep.

You reached out blindly to the nightstand, your fingers grasping for the knife you always kept at your bedside in case of waking up to a walker breach or anything similar. Even through blurred vision, you found the handle, and brought the blade to the criss-crossed skin of your arm.

What a way to start off the morning with a bang.

Inflicting harm over previously healed scars always made you flinch harder. But you didn’t care that it hurt more. If anything, you appreciated it. It was more effective, faster. You never felt the need to leave quite as many.

Hissing through your teeth, you sat the knife down on your knee and brought your pointer and middle fingers to either side of the new wound and spread it open, luring more blood to flow out. It tickled as the thick crimson rolled down your wrist and came to a stop right where the skin curves to the heel of your palm, and you grabbed the handle once more to start the process over again.

Halfway through the next was when the door creaked.

You practically jumped out of your skin, throwing the reddened blade to clatter on the floor and snatching the covers to pull back over yourself, press them to your arm. Your free hand wiped the tears from your face as you sniffled, clearing up your sight well enough to see….

Rick. Blue eyes darkened by confusion and worry.

He stepped in cautiously, taking care to slowly and quietly shut the door behind himself and return his attention back to you. “Hey, what are you doing that for?”

“Wh— what the fuck?”

It left you as no more than a whisper, and you knew that same confusion was reflected on your own face. Rick wasn’t supposed to be here. ‘Am I hallucinating?’

“No, you’re not hallucinating. I’m right here.” Rick had nearly asked if you were okay, but stopped himself short. He’d just walked in on you cutting yourself, there was only one answer that you would, or could, give him.

You were apparently not fully awake yet, or you were still reeling from the self harm, because you’d seemingly asked the question out loud and not in your head.

His manufactured arm piece remained immobile at his side while his real hand patted himself absently in various locations, the pockets of his shirt as well as on each side of his jeans, searching for something although knowing that it wasn’t there. Rather than stand there idiotically, Rick held up a finger to signal ‘one second’ and made his way further into the room, dropping to one knee to pick up the knife you’d flung down carelessly and wiping the blood onto his shirt. And then, while he was down there, he pulled open each drawer of your nightstand until he actually found what he was looking for. Bandages. Or, more specifically, a small med kit with bandages in it. Packed full of random, useful supplies.

He remained kneeling at your bedside and spoke as he opened it. “Already forgot that you have me back?” His smile had an odd edge to it, like he was happy to see you but simultaneously disheartened by the state you were in, and concerned about the fact you’d forgotten. There was so much emotion on his face your eyes filled again.

“Yeah, I guess, I-”

You jumped when Rick pulled the blanket away from your arm and instinctively drew it back toward your chest, shielding the mess of dried blood from his worried gaze, but he simply reached for it again and coaxed it back to himself. Tentatively, not one sign of upset visible on him.

As he assessed the damage, you ashamedly looked elsewhere and returned to what you had previously been saying. “When Siddiq was still around, he diagnosed me with C-PTSD. Honestly, I think we all have something like that by now.” Laughing weakly, you bit the inside of your cheek for a few moments as Rick took care to clean the area with a small, square cloth soaked with witch hazel. It wasn’t the medication that burned, just the contact. You carried on. “He told me one of the side-effects would be my memory. Short-term, long-term, or even both… so, probably that and the fact I dreamed about finding you as a walker and having to put that knife between your eyes.”

A flare of insecurity sparked in your chest when that last statement had Rick’s eyes flitting to yours. Suddenly you found yourself critically self-conscious that he’d decide you were too much work now and leave to find better. Memory problems? Who would bother dealing with that?

“Okay,” he said surely, his voice steady. “That’s okay.” You were overwhelmed with the urge to hug him, but it would have to wait until you had your arm back. After a moment of eye contact for a second time, Rick patted the skin dry with a square of gauze and shook a small bottle of bactine before spraying a thin layer on top of the area.

The tingle of numbness was immediate. You sighed in relief as he rolled a Q-tip covered in Vaseline over each laceration and used that same last piece of gauze to delicately wipe up the excess surrounding them. And then to preserve resources, Rick opted not to open another and instead flipped that pad over to lay the dry side on your wrist; wrapped a length of blue self adherent cohesive bandage around it a few times to keep the wound dressing in place. Brought the heel of your palm to his lips, only to pause when his eyes wandered to find the array of scars littering your inner forearm. There was one in particular that he couldn’t take his attention off of.

Trailing the pad of his thumb down the length of your arm, you glanced down to see what he was looking at.

And felt nauseous.

“This one?” he asked faintly, voice barely discernible. Jagged, raised skin followed your radial artery vertically. Perpetrated on yourself while you’d searched for him.

You shrugged in an attempt to play it off as a lot calmer than you actually were. “Didn’t go deep enough.” Shame, once again, enveloped you. You felt fucking pathetic.

“Me either.”

The words felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped right over your head. Freezing your entire body, soaking your flesh and seeping beneath it to chill your bones. Your eyes found his natural fingers to discover that they were pulling his shirt collar away from his neck to reveal a slash that scabbed very recently going about a fourth of the way across his throat. Your vision swam again.

“You’re here now,” you tried. It was a lousy consolation, but you still weren’t… entirely grounded yet. Pushing yourself up to sit on your knees, Rick muttering ‘careful’ under his breath as you put weight on the hand connected to your injured arm to lean the upper half of your body off the edge of the bed, you nestled your lips just above the new scar and kissed his thrumming pulse. “We’re both here.” The two of you were equally as anxious; the way his heart was racing proved that fact. Perhaps even for the same reasons. Feeling exposed.

It was hardly a long journey from Philadelphia to Virginia. You made it back with Rick before the day was over. Subsequently, he had barely been here for twelve hours. Perhaps you hadn’t spent enough time together yet for the fact that Rick was home to truly register with you.

It seemed he may have had the same idea.

He offered you a tired half-smile and stood, closing up the med kit and returning it to its previous location only to round to the other side of the bed, make quick work of kicking off his boots, and climb in beneath the blanket. Rolling to face him, you sidled up to rest your forehead on his chest immediately, and his genuine arm fell over your side whilst the sculpted metal one lie idle beneath the pillows. The numbing from bactine was still a thing to revel over because it meant you could throw your arm over his bicep and card your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck. You did not miss Rick’s short hair. His fingers soothed up and down your back in a comforting manner and you both laid utterly still, breathing the same air, sharing the same body heat.

“I’m grateful I didn’t go deep enough,” he whispered once the silence stretched uncomfortably. “You found me.”

For what was probably not the last time today, your eyes stung again. And yet, you opted to lift the spirits of him and yourself with a joke. It was the first thing that came to mind. “Well, you do seem to fail at slitting throats, Rick.”

You grinned up at him when he scoffed; giggled when he started to chuckle himself. The pair of you sounded as exhausted as you both looked, and when the laughter died out, you absorbed each other again. His presence was so consoling to your brain that had successfully convinced itself he was still gone, that after a length of time you realized you’d fall back asleep soon. And Rick would probably ensure you didn’t wake up alone again.

You hadn’t gotten a chance to do something, though.

Propping yourself up on your right elbow, you blinked sleep out of your heavy eyes while pulling weakly at his new arm attachment; more as a question rather than an unpermitted attempt to uncover it. “Can… can I look?”

Unease cast a shadow over his blue eyes, despite the trust in them, and he nodded. Which you’d only half expected him to do. You’d braced yourself for a no.

You would see it eventually, so he figured it was best to do it now and get it out of the way rather than prolong it.

Sitting your pillow off to lean it against the headboard, Rick adjusted and repositioned to lay on his back instead, which gave you a better opportunity to look at his hand. It was strapped on in two different places; one at the elbow, and one at the shoulder. The fingers were hyper-realistic, yet closed into a fist with no opening for a weapon to be gripped. It was almost as if he could read your mind, because Rick drew his arm away from you to demonstrate the release of a blade triggered in the wrist.

You lifted a finger to trail it along the sharp edge of the custom weaponized extension and hissed through grit teeth when it left a thin, shallow cut on your fingertip.

“I’m not getting the med kit back out.” He finished saying it with a playfully chastising call of your name.

No need to bother. You sucked the blood from the pad of your finger and threw him a drowsy smirk. “This is hot.”

That definitely caught him off guard.

“Yeah?” Rick shook his head with a dampened smile. “Well, I’m glad you see my suffering as an upgrade.”

The greatest salve for your pain was his lips on yours. Maybe it would do the same for his wounded pride.

Quite the valid reason to try it.

“Shut up.”

Your smile met his, and they stayed there even after you fell asleep again. This time, dreaming of the future.

National suicide and crisis hotline: call or text 988

Help with self harm: text CONNECT to 741741

LGBTQ+ inclusive resource: https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/article/support-for-self-harm-recovery/

Numbers for different parts of the world: https://blog.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines/