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lixies-favorite-cookie · 2 months

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calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer.

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles.

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart.

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

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jennifer-jeong · 7 months

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Fluff + Slight Angst | Zayne x GN!Reader A Cure.

SUMMARY Zayne has trouble sleeping after overtime and you’re the only thing that helps ):

CONTENT Gender neutral reader, established relationship, kisses, hugs, slight angst, mention of previous patient deaths, mentions of guilt, mentions of nightmares + insomnia, mostly fluff, taking care of sleep deprived boyfriend, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES I finished reading his anecdotes and I’m in shambles. Hubby is traumatized. One of his affinity level up quotes is “you are the only treatment for my nightmares” and I didn’t even know he had nightmares until I read the anecdotes and now I’m just in pain. I will probably also write about the parallel version of him, his dawnbreaker self, because he deserves some love too, his world sounds much more desolate than ours ):

WORD COUNT: 1106

Zayne has always had trouble sleeping or even wanting to entertain the idea of going to sleep. His nightmares have plagued him for so many years now and it’s become his norm. His only relief from it has been you.

Some of the staff that work closely with Zayne have been acquainted with you and they’ve come to understand that if they want the cardiac surgeon to sleep, you’re the key. You love his co-workers because they really do care about each other and you’re so grateful they make sure Zayne rests well. You always make sure to bring them some snacks or coffee when you come to the hospital.

A recent wanderer attack at the outskirts of the city has left the emergency unit overflowing for the past 2 days. You’ve been helping where you can to defeat wanderers and the combat side of things has calmed down. But the hospital is still working overtime. AKA Zayne is working overtime.

He’s been up for 2 days straight due to back to back emergency surgeries that he insists he helps on. The staff will allow him to push himself but they know when to cut him off. They asked if you’d be available today to pop by and you mentioned that you’re already on your way after finishing your last area sweep and clearing the place for wanderers.

When you walk in, you set some coffees onto the clerk’s desk and quickly walk over to Zayne’s office. You slowly knock quietly and open the door cautiously so as not to spook the sleep deprived man. Zayne never shows when he’s nervous, he doesn’t get jittery because he’s literally a surgeon and can’t afford to. But, you can tell when he’s exhausted and anxious, and he is exactly that right now. You walk over to him and he hugs you from where he’s sitting at his desk, swiveling his chair to face you as you stand between his legs. You stroke your hands through his hair and rub his back, letting him enjoy the peace. “All successful?” You ask. He nods with his face buried in your chest. You’re glad that this means his surgeries and patients were all okay, but you know it doesn’t ease the pain and stress of going into a surgery worried that it might not end well. Also, not to mention the immense stress simply performing a surgery brings. The notches on his notebook always come to mind at times like this. It took a while for you to talk to him about it but when he told you they were a tally of how many patients have passed in his care, your heart ached. Since then, he hasn’t kept track and you’re very glad that he confided in you and made the decision to stop. He doesn’t deserve to have that guilt hang over his head when it’s never been his fault.

You continue to soothe him and ask “couldn’t sleep again?” He responds slowly and clearly exhausted “I haven’t felt tired…” he pauses “but you being here is already making me drift into sleep” he says muffled into your chest. “Thank you, I’m happy to see you, I just… I have another surgery soon.” “The staff has already shifted the time slots, you know they don’t let you push that far. It’s been 2 days, love,” you explain to him. Surgeons have already been called in due to the emergency and Zayne has a 12 hour period until his next shift. The staff know he’d get upset if they forced him to not work for more than a day, especially during an emergency. He’s quiet for a minute or two. “I know you trust your team. Take this time to breathe baby,” you say to him gently. When he’s in this state, he can’t form thoughts coherent enough to help calm himself down with logic. So you do it for him, softly, with lots of kisses. You kneel down to meet his eyes and cradle his face in your warm hands. He nuzzles very slightly into your touch and you kiss him on his forehead. He honestly almost falls asleep right then and there. You move him to the couch in his office, he has a wider couch to accommodate naps. He prefers his office to the call rooms (in hospital rooms for staff to sleep in), it just feels cozier and you’re also usually here.

You let him get comfy as you bring over pillows and a blanket for him, all prepared nearby because he quite commonly has to do this. With his eyes closed he mutters a slurred “love you s’much.” He has more words for you but can barely even conceptualize them in his head, let alone speak them out loud. But he knows that you understand the sentiment. He’ll make it up to you when he wakes up.

Somehow you’ve been able to stop his nightmares since you two got close again. He isn’t scared to sleep as long as you’re around. You’re his only safe haven from the dreams and just thinking about that makes him so emotional. He just thinks it makes so much sense that you cure him in this way and he loves you so much, you take such good care of him and he does the same back.

He quickly drifts off into sleep as you sit in front of the couch on the carpet while holding his hand and patting his back slowly. You purposely pat slowly to encourage his heart rate to slow and calm down. You will sometimes leave to do your own thing after he falls asleep but most of the time you stay close, wanting to keep protecting him in his sleep in a way. It probably doesn’t really make a difference but you don’t mind doing your work or playing on your phone nearby. It’s kinda like you think he subconsciously feels you there and so you stay. You don’t pay it much mind but he hasn’t told you that he feels so much better when he wakes up and sees you there. It makes a wave of warmth flow over his cold self and he can’t explain how much he loves it and you.

You watch him a little longer as his breathing slows and you know he’s fast asleep. You go to sit on his chair and check some messages on your phone but you make sure to give him another kiss on his temple before going. You don’t really see it but his lips curve ever so slightly, completely subconsciously enjoying it.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

#zayne x reader #reader x zayne #li shen x reader #reader x love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne #li shen #zayne fluff #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace #self insert #j's silly ramblings

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intoxicated-chan · 8 months

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𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞

Summary ➳ Ever since Daryl and Merle joined you and the rest of the survivors, Shane believed that the brothers were no good and warned you to stay away. But you never had good hearing.

(A/n) ➳ This is gonna have multiple parts, I’m not a fan having multiple dividers used as time-skips. Take care of yourselves!!

Word Count ➳ 2.1k (There ain’t a lot of smut but I’ll make it up to you guys in the next part!)

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, mentions of death/killing, swearing, mentions of masturbation/masturbation (M), oral (F), cunilingus, fingering, pet names (baby), overstimulation…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming soon!!)

You often found your mind wandering ever since the outbreak, you struggled to believe what was happening was real. You tried to think positively and hoped that in the end, you would wake up from the nightmare. But there was no nightmare since there was no dream. The outbreak indeed happened and the world is in fucking shambles.

Even during the panic, you found it unbelievable, you refused to believe. It took your brother bruising your arm to drag you into the truck. And when Lori and Carl were put into the truck, Shane told you his belief of his friend’s demise. Another thing that you refused to believe and luckily, you didn’t change your view.

Shane stretched his arms as he stepped out of the tent, a groan leaving his lips. But he wasn’t the only one awake so early, you were as well.

You were folding the group’s clothes, but you were also looking at the tags of the men’s shirts the group had taken. You were ripping the sleeves off of those you deemed the right ones.

“What are you doin’?” Shane asked you, lifting an eyebrow as you ripped another sleeve. He had a good guess of who those were for.

“Daryl’s shirts are coated in sweat an’ dirt. There are holes in ‘em.” You replied, a harmless smile on your face. Shane knew that you were trying to do something good for him. “He needs new ones.”

Shane kneeled, taking your wrist to stop you. “Don’t you think he can do that himself?”

“But he’s out huntin’.” You pulled your wrist back.

“If he can make time for huntin’, he can make his shirts himself.” Shane snatched the rest of the shirts and pushed them to the side. “What are you doin’ up anyways?”

Your eyes looked away from his, fidgeting with the tag of Daryl’s shirt. Your dreams were plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t go into detail, and you were happy that you forgot most of it.

Shane could see it in your eyes, he rubbed your back. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get our home back.”

“Would we?” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“What was that?” Shane demanded to know. He grabbed your shoulders. “Say it again.”

“It’s gone, Shane. We have no home, there’s nothin’ to go back to.”

“Don’t you ever think like that.” Shane snapped. His voice was low yet gruff, showing how serious and angry he was. “We’re goin’ to get home. Understand?”

You looked away once more, nodding. Your ears caught the sound of Daryl panting, arguing with his brother to wake up and help him.

Shane moved his hands from your shoulder to brush back your hair. “Go back to your tent, get some rest.” Patting your back and taking the sleeveless shirts, his voice returning to normal. “And keep away from them. I shouldn’t have to remind you, again.”

You heard Shane speaking with Daryl, handing or shoving the shirts to his arms in trade for some of the game he caught. You also heard Shane taking credit for the work done for Daryl.

“I did ‘em. You smell like shit.” Shane was starting to piss you off. First telling you to keep away from people you were going to have to work with and then taking credit for work you did…

It was most likely midnight. You and Shane were the only ones sitting by the dying campfire. Georgia may be hot during the day but could be cold during the night.

Shane glanced around, he was cautious, making sure it was just the two of you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “Stay away from them. I shouldn’t be repeatin’ myself and I don’t like to.”

You knew Shane could be an asshole at times but deep down, he meant well. But it was harder to believe him each time when he wouldn’t give you a reason.

“All I am askin’ is an explanation.” You begged Shane. “Give me a reason.”

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Shane loudly sighed when you nodded immediately. “They are suspicious. I know we need every hand we can get but when it comes to them, to Merle. It’s obvious that they are plannin’ somethin’, somethin’ bad.”

“What does that have to do with Daryl? Or me?”

Shane was getting annoyed by your constant questions. He ran his fingers through his hair, nearly pulling them out. “Let me ask you this. Do you think Daryl will go out of his way to save you?”

“What if-”

“No ifs ands or buts. Answer it.” Shane said sternly, he didn’t need your response since your silence was your answer. “Daryl is only lookin’ out for his brother, he ain’t gonna be saving your dumbass unless you got somethin’ for him or Merle.”

“Don’t say that about him. Daryl is just misunderstood.”

A harsh laugh left his lips. “Jesus (Y/n), why are you tryin’? You are unbearably naive. Always having soft spots, like that damn dog. Watch, Daryl is gonna bring you down to his shit level, and when he does, I ain’t gonna be there to help your pathetic ass. You’re gonna be risking your life for people who don’t give a damn about yours.”

Tears stung your eyes, hurt by your brother’s words. And Shane could see it. “You’re my sister, the only family I have left. I won’t have you taken away from me because of them.”

You felt like a fish out of water, the way your mouth was opening and closing. It took you a good minute before you could finally speak. “The world has gone to shit Shane. We need each other to survive, we can’t be divided.”

“(Y/n)-”

“You gotta get rid of your black and white thinkin’. Find common ground with them, not draw a line in the dirt and spit on it.”

You pushed his arm off and stomped off, you must’ve looked like a child.

“(Y/n).” He called out to you, watching you walk off.

You sat on a random rock once. You knew your path back to camp, you remained close by, in case of an emergency.

You wiped your eyes, frustrated. You took deep breaths, running your hands up and down your thighs to stop you from completely sobbing.

“The hell you doin’ out ‘ere?” You flinched, snapping your head around just to see Daryl with a string of rabbits over his shoulder.

“I could say the same.” You grumbled, turning your head back around. “Why you huntin’ out so late?”

“None of yer damn business.” He countered rather harshly. “You gonna answer?”

You were ready to rant but Daryl was a man of few words, and he preferred it if people got to the point instead of wasting his time. “Shane and I fought. He’s a fuckin’ asshole.”

“...Wan’ me to kill ‘im?” He asked, loading his crossbow and hearing a click.

A faint smile crossed your face, holding in the snicker you had coming. “I thank you for your offer. But I’ll be alright. He’s probably stressed.”

“What’ver you say.” Daryl turned around and walked away, just in time for Shane to appear. He didn’t bother giving Shane a second look.

“Still havin’ a hard time deciding if I’m real or not?” Rick asked, taking the water you handed him.

“No, I made up my mind when Shane told me. I knew your stubborn ass would come out sooner or later.” You laughed as well as Rick. You laid your head on his shoulder, sitting by the dead campfire with him.

Comfortable silence overcame you both, but Rick had questions. Especially when he hadn’t seen you and Shane speak, even when he returned.

“Shane… What happened?”

“Shane… He doesn’t think that the brothers are good.” You replied. “I understand where he’s comin’ from but Daryl’s different.”

“Talk to him often?”

“Not really.”

Rick sighed. “You’re too kind, one day that will come back an’ haunt you.”

Rick left the conversation at that, leaving you with your thoughts. You were stuck. You couldn’t focus and you didn’t want to be around your brother.

You joined Daryl despite his protest and annoyance. He allowed you to follow, even more when he learned that never shot a gun before when the topic of weapons came up.

“Don’t be lookin’ tense.” Daryl commented, his hand coming to your wrist. “Yer holdin’ it too tight, relax yer damn grip.”

You mumbled an apology, doing your best to take his advice. But after a couple of minutes of remaining tense, Daryl took away the gun. “That’s it, what’s on yer mind?”

“E’cuse me?”

“I ain’t gonna risk our food on you unable to shoot a damn gun.” You rolled your eyes. “Yer shit brother?”

You grumbled, cursing Shane under your breath. “I rather not think about it.”

“Yer gonna have to find a way to deal with yer shit if you ain’t gonna talk.”

“Like what? Takin’ care of myself?”

Daryl shrugged. “Probably.”

“What am I supposed to do here? Not much to take care of myself with.” You motioned to the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“Perfect place to jerk one out though. Quick and easy-”

“E’cuse me?” You repeated, a little louder this time.

“How many times you gonna say e’cuse me?” He horribly mimicked your voice. “The way ya lookin’ at me shows that you hadn’t done it.”

“I have.” You huffed but Daryl lifted his eyebrow. “I-It’s just- it’s difficult. I can’t do it when I know people are around or gonna be lookin’ for me. I don’t wanna be embarrassed.”

“Haven’t ya learned to do it quickly?”

“No… But are you willin’ to help?”

Daryl gave you a confused look. “Thought yer brother didn’t want you ‘round me? Would ya think he’d approve of this? Me touchin’ ya?”

“Who gives a damn what he thinks? He can’t decide what I want.”

He placed his crossbow against a tree and crossed his arms. “Ya gonna give somethin’ in return?” You nodded hastily. “Then take yer damn pants off.”

Your fingers pulled on his sandy blonde hair, taking gasps of air as you felt his tongue lapping all of your juices. How long has it been? An hour or two? How many orgasms have you had? You weren’t even going to try and count them all.

He kept a tight hold on your hips, he pulled you back whenever you pulled away. He had you laid against the dirt, feeling the pebbles and sticks poking at your back and head stopped bothering you when all you could think about was clouded.

Daryl remained between your legs, your thighs clenching around his head, the wetness covering the lower half of his face. His tongue danced around your folds and clit.

Daryl shifted his position, he kneeled, giving him a perfect view of your flushed body. A layer of sweat across your open skin, an arm thrown over your eyes and your other hand was no longer pulling at his hair but gripping a patch of patch.

He dipped one finger into your cunt, feeling you squeeze around him, making him add another. He slid his fingers in and out, fucking you quickly.

His other hand reached to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his fly and freeing himself. He jerked himself off using precum as a kind of lubricate. Each stroke of his cock was matched by the pace he was fingering you.

Above the wet sounds of your cunt, he could hear the soft moans leaving your mouth. His breathing fell into an unsteady pace alongside an occasional groan from the back of his throat.

Both of his arms were burning, moving faster than to what he was normally used to. A painful shiver ran through him, he was coming.

Another painful bolt. There was a hint of pleasure, but there was a different feeling. “H-Hold on-” Your back arched off the ground, a gasp cutting you off. “I think-”

He curled his fingers and repeatedly hit your g-spot. “C’mom baby, c’mom baby.” He repeated under his breath, twisting his fingers and scissored them inside of you.

You swore loudly, feeling the sudden release, squirting all over Daryl’s hand and pants. Daryl tossed his head back, leating out a strained fuck though his teeth. You felt his hot cum spill over your cunt, your arm moved away from your face and looked at Dary through your hazed eyes.

Daryl gave a couple of more pumps, stopping both of his hands. You gasped when his fingers pulled out, you could see the mess you made. “I didn’t mean-”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” Daryl chuckled, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking off the remaining juices on them. “Feelin’ better?”

You nodded, panting. “Very.”

“Good, ‘cause you still owe me.”

906 notes · View notes

huicitawrites · 11 months

Text

Priestess of The Malevolent Shrine

Yandere! Trueform Sukuna x Fem! Reader

tags: @a-tiny-teez @kazusan7yanderekun @eleventhdoctorsangel @sircatchungus

warnings: yandere, “slow burn”, violence, death and torture, slavery

Part 1- It begins

Previous Part / Next Part

The day itself was no different than any other spring day in Japan. The vast forest gleamed with green and a soft breeze danced through the trees and rattled the leaves. In the depths, the sound of rushing water could be heard, indicating the presence of a waterfall or spring.

And yet, it was still awfully quiet.

No sounds or sights of animals- no heads of reindeers or tails of mountain foxes, not a single bird sat atop the tree branches and not the single chirp of a cricket or the all-too-known hisses of cicadas.

In any case, the air was tense, the spring wind carried gloom and silence. The dense forest did not hide you, but made you feel small and intimidated, vulnerable to the feeling of being stalked like prey.

You were capable of seeing their eyes and malformed shapes, their sights were focused on you, who was sitting inside the decorated carriage, and the men who carried you to the slaughter.

They outnumbered you and the men, they made you easy prey and yet, they did not jump at the opportunity. No, they watched. Although the bodies pushed and squeezed each other, they did not cross your path and in its stead, formed a straight path up the hill- at the top of it and at its end, a massive torii-gate could be seen.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

Yes, that’s what you were- The make-up, the accessories and wedding hanfu were all a traditional façade, you were not a woman to be married off to a man as the noble customs dictate.

No.

You were a sacrifice.

An unlucky sheep being delivered to the wolf’s den in a ridiculous attempt to save the other sheep.

As the carriage advanced, you couldn’t help but grasp and twist the fabric of the dress. It was shameful, if anything. Your clan was once proud and strong, almost at par with the family that held possession of The Six Eyes. Your parents were proud leaders that had exorcized countless curses and led their fellow shamans to dominate the battlefield.

A terrible encounter would be their doom and leave the [L/n] clan in shambles. Your parents and many other clanspeople fought and lost their lives to the King of Curses. The L/n’s, once vast and powerful, was rendered scarce and vulnerable. Without the support such a big clan provided, your village’s riches run dry and your clan was abandoned by the townspeople. Even when you as the heiress of the Clan pleaded for help to the other great clans in hopes they would honor their alliances held for over decades, they turned their backs on you without a second thought.

What could you, a young woman with feeble grasp of her own inherited technique, hope to do to? In a world where power ruled over all and guaranteed survival, what could you possibly do to prevent your clan from extinction?

How could you ever save the legacy of your dear parents?

It seemed like your uncle, the only closest relative you had alive, had a wonderful idea. "We'll put to use your youth and face”, he had said, “I am sure you can please him, your parents would be proud to see you do anything in your grasp to save our clan. As a young L/n heiress, it is your duty. Bask in pride.”

‘Bask in pride?’ To hell with him, it seemed that he had also forgotten about his sister, your beloved mother, and his brother-in-law. They would never sell you out, as long as you can remember they never pressured you to accept any suitor and they would always express their desire for you to choose out of your own right.

And screw your Uncle’s words, they would rather fight tooth and nail against the whole Jujutsu world than to see you being sent off to the Cursed King himself. Your parents would rather die than issue an alliance with Ryomen Sukuna, the murderer of your clan, through you- their cherished daughter.

However, they had indeed died. They could do nothing to prevent you from your fate and save you from the madness and desperation of your uncle.

‘Mother, Father’, your fingertips instinctively brushed the piece of jewelry that adorned your [Y/n] hair - a colorful hairpin in the shades of [favorite color] passed down to you as a family heirloom - when you closed your eyes, the faces of your deceased parents and fallen clanspeople flashed in your mind.

To hell with your uncle, to hell with the King of Curses.

Too caught up within your mind, you were brought back by a ‘knock-knock’ from the outside wall of the carriage. Your uncle’s voice reached your ears, “We are almost there, [Y/n]. Prepare yourself.”

“Remember, our lives depend on you. Do not do anything stupid.”

You knew well what he meant to say, ‘don’t you dare step out of line’. You can perfectly recall the sting of the palm of his hand on your right cheek when you had first opposed. You were still opposed, you could not hide the truth that reflected in your face. Your uncle was mad, but he was not blind. He was aware of your intentions and the unwavering loyalty you had for your parents and the clan. Their teachings, values and traditions were well rooted within you.

The ascending movements of the carriage came to a stop. Your curiosity willed you towards the window of the carriage. When taking a peak out of it, you noticed a massive, old and strained torii. The color of it had faded and lost itself to time and the wood of it had various cracks that ran through the columns. In spite of it all, it stood tall and its height made you feel even smaller and more insignificant to its grandness.

Past the torii, meters away and framed at the center, was a shrine.

When the lot of you crossed the torii, a massive aura came crushing on you. The tension solidified ten times over, and the air became even thicker than before. Unlike in the forest, there were no cursed spirits yet the cursed energy emanating from the shrine was hundreds of times stronger and fouler.

This was where Ryomen Sukuna lived.

He had to be there, inside.

The gates of the shrine opened on their own as if he were already expecting your arrival. He knew all of you were here the moment you put a foot in that cursed forest. The doors creaked and the ominous scenery lit up.

The shrine was spacious, there were three columns at each side of the hallroom and between the last pair there was his throne.

The veils of the carriage hid you, but you could feel your uncle and his men freeze. You could feel his cursed energy radiating past the carriage walls and veils, directly hitting your skin and making your body tremble. You bit your lower lip and your nails crumbled the fabric even tighter. It would leave permanent creases, if you ever lived past this moment to see them that is.

“Oh, great King of Curses,” your uncle’s voice announced and his body bowed along the remaining clanspeople, “We have come in peace and humbleness with an offer.”

Your uncle could not resist slightly raising his head and taking a mere glance, but once he did, he was quick to redirect his forehead to the ground and sweat began to break all over his body.

At the top of the leading stairs and in a golden throne gilded with skulls sat Ryomen Sukuna, seemingly bored. Even as he sat, his body was huge, and he had two pairs of arms. The lower set held two weapons, a staff and a dagger, which did nothing but aggravate the threat that he was. His top left arm laid on the armrest as his right elbow bent to cushion his cheek. Although his head was tilted to the side and there were no traces of ire or madness right away, his four eyes looked down upon them with disdain. As if he were glancing at a couple of ants.

His eyes were, however, quick to glance at the carriage. Of course he knew what this was about, this was not the first time he was made an ‘offering’. His red irises glanced back to your uncle and the people behind him, oh how he enjoyed the sight of fools bowing to him.

“Bring the carriage forward and back off. I’ll see whatever’s inside for myself”.

His voice was low and thick, Sukuna ordered them around without much more explanation, only with the expectation that they would fill out his command. They were at his mercy, and so, the carriage was carried forward with you in it. Slowly, they lowered it and dropped you on the ground. As they retreated, their forms were still kept bowed and low.

Ryomen Sukuna stood up from his throne, full seven feet or more of stature in display. Strange black markings stretched across his skin. As he descended the stairs, his heavy footfalls thudded the wooden floor, vibrating through the it.

The carriage shook in the ground, you could tell he was enormous and monstrous due to those footfalls of his. With each step, he got closer, and you grew even more nervous.

Sweat began to break from the skin of your forehead, your eyes widened and your pupils constricted, your throat became tight and dry.

‘He’s getting closer, he’s getting closer, he’s-’

The shadow of his silhouette tinted the veils, and suddenly everything around you disappeared. All you could hear and feel was the frantic drumming of your heart in your ears.

You could see in slow motion how his muscled arm came to grab the veil. One by one, his black claws passed through the division of the veils.

‘He will open them any second now.’

Your breathing became ragged and snippets of your life flashed across your eyes. Your parents, your clanspeople, the townspeople, everyone.

You would rather die than betray them.

You prepared yourself and below the sleeves of the damned hanfu, your knuckles turned white.

When Sukuna drew open the curtains, he was met with a pretty sight. It’s not an outstandingly new thing, but a pretty maiden is always a relief to a man’s eyes, even to one such as him.

Dolled up just for him with delicate makeup and luxurious fabrics, a lady with [h/c] hair and [s/c] skin sat on her knees elegantly. Her back was poise and kept, her eyes were closed, displaying long and curled eyelashes.

For a second, Sukuna lost his usual cool composure- he was truly impressed, even though many had come to him in a similar manner.

However, what followed suit was what definitely picked his interest.

The calm and docile demeanor of the lady snapped and her eyes shot open, revealing a pair of fierce [e/c] burning with fury. From the inside of the carriage, she leapt forward to him- to his throat to be precise.

“Oh?” The Cursed King expressed with genuine interest, an eyebrow cocked and all, as he admired your form in the air.

Your hair spread free and wild in the air, like the mane of a lion, and your teeth were bared as a warcry left your red-painted lips. Your left arm was extended and the palm of your hand was wide open, while the other arm’s elbow was bent behind your head. Sukuna was also quick to take notice of the weapon in your hand infused with cursed energy, a familiar one as well, and his eyes widened in further surprise when the cursed energy became so sharp it flashed in red and black.

The corners of Sukuna’s lips picked up, his lips parted in a wicked, toothy grin laced with malice. He ran his tongue over his lips, he could already taste it, the massacre. Your form was getting nearer and nearer by the second, with the naive intent to strike him down.

“I’d rather die than be sold off like a broodmare!”

“You foolish girl, you’ll kill us all!”

The King of Curses held an amused face in contrast to your enraged one, and just when you thought you would be able to pierce and slice open his throat, one of his arms stopped you. Abruptly, and quite ironically, he caught you by your own throat. His hold was strong, immobilizing you completely mid air. Your body halted and trembled, even as you struggled to find air, the object still held your cursed energy and your eyes kept burning with ire.

“Now this is getting fun”, Sukuna giggled as his four eyes scrutinized your form. He found that the way you resisted was pathetically adorable as if he had just caught an insect with the pads of his fingers, one he could squash in less than a second.

“A hairpin infused with cursed energy? Creative, I’ll give you that, but so stupid. You thought you could kill me? With a hairpin? That’s a little insulting to say the least ” His tone was mocking and condensing, his tongue lacing the words with venom. With his hand still choking you, he brought you closer.

He made out the words ‘fuck you’ from your lips, which just made him laugh some more. You raked your fingernails across his arm in agony, trying to tear apart his skin. Such a feisty lady.

The King of Curses made sure to glare at you right in the eyes with false pity as he spoke, “For someone who would rather die, you sure are putting on a pathetic display as you are giving it your all for some air”.

Something about his words resounded deep within you. A truth you wanted to deny yourself in the name of your parents. Everyone died whilst fighting and here you were, the least you could do was join them and honor their dignity!

Your eyesight was getting clouded with dark spots due to the lack of oxygen, but your ears were keen to the following words, “Hmm? You want to live, don’t you?”

Sukuna hummed the words as he was drowning in the details of your bodily expressions as you gasped for a last breath of air. He had taken many lives, some squealed like lowly pigs at the slaughter, others simply gave up, but some put up a fight, or some sort of resistance. Yours was such a case, in which you’d put on a brave facade, acting tough and daring, but deep down you wanted to survive and live on so, so badly.

He could see it in the diminishing fire of your eyes, and how the cinders of fear and regret took over. You were beginning to question yourself, to panic. And Sukuna relished in it, took all in.

“So? What will you---“

Sukuna blinked his eyes and tilted his head downward upon the feeling of someone tugging on his yukata. “Please forgive her, my lord! I am sure she is just nervous, please reconsider it!”, at the level of his feet, the old man that had delivered his sacrifice was clinging to his ankles. His nose was buried in the fabric of his clothes, and Sukuna gagged in disgust.

“Spare her foolishness! I am certain of her capability to–”

“Silence, you fool”.

The voice of the King of Curses dropped decibels lower, lacking any twisted humor and simply on point. His eyes held no emotion but irritation, his face was relaxed but his eyebrows and mouth were lined straight. Sukuna was serious.

His voice boomed through the hallroom, and you heard the way everyone dropped to their knees again. Your uncle hit his forehead on the floor with a loud slap and he shook like a leaf. A leaf to be trampled on.

Sparing you no other glance, Ryomen Sukuna threw you to the side of the room like a mere toy. Your back crashed against the wall and upon impact. Air was knocked out of your lungs once again and you howled silently in pain, unable to produce a sound. Your body coiled in itself as it attempted to reduce the pain, and you coughed furiously.

Your eyes blinked a couple of times, making feeble attempts to open fully- but all you could see was a blurry mist, in which you only figured out the characteristic pink hair and monstrous build of the demon. You noticed your uncle at his feet, without really thinking, you reached out your arm to him and stretched it wide open. It collapsed on its weight. All you could do was watch the tragedy unfold.

Sukuna kicked your uncle in the gut and he rolled back a few steps. He groaned in pain. He had no time to gather himself, for Sukuna kicked him once more. This time, in the ribs.

“You dare barge into my shrine without care, shamelessly bringing up an unsolicited offer. You were an idiot if you thought you would get something out of me. An alliance, or my ‘divine’ protection?” He sneered, “ You are the fool here. At least the girl stood up to fight, coward.”

Your uncle tried to shape words with his lips, tongue and teeth, but all that came up was splotches of blood and saliva.

“Uraume,” the Cursed King called out and from the shadows, a young man made his appearance at Sukuna's side. His odd light-blue locks cascaded down as his head was bowed, and his robes draped over his legs on the floor. His arm crossed over one of his knees, it was evident that he was awaiting orders.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Help me with dealing with this trash. I am fed up with this.”

“As you say, my lord.”

When he raised up his face, a sinister grin decorated his face. He lifted his body off the floor and dusted his clothes, making way towards the poor souls in Sukuna's hall.

“This one's for me to kill, and that girl over there-” the Cursed King pointed at you “- leave her be.”

‘Uraume’ nodded once more and muttered the loyal words. Without further haste, he launched himself to the rest of the people.

You struggled to stay conscious, the dissonance of horror enveloping you, though your senses were waning. The screams of terror, the sickening squelch of flesh and blood, the bone-chilling cracks—these sounds permeated your fading awareness. However, the overwhelming cursed energy in the air compelled you to regain consciousness. As if it kept your body awakened with its sheer presence.

Your tear-blurred vision flickered as you blinked repeatedly, attempting to adjust your eyesight to the scene before you. Regret – instant and churning painfully your heart – flooded your thoughts as you took in the gruesome scenery.

The room was a nightmarish maelstrom of chaos. Blood pooled around lifeless bodies strewn across the floor. Limbs and entrails laid in grotesque disarray. An overpowering metallic stench overtook your sense of smell, assaulting your nostrils with the unmistakable scent of iron.

You longed to turn away, to escape the horrors unfolding before you, but your body remained unable to move itself. You were far too hurt. Wide-eyed and trembling, you observed that many bodies lay headless, including your uncle's.

His severed head stared right at you, a loud but silent testament to the brutality of the carnage. The weight of the guilt sinked deep within you, the cold look on your uncle’s corpse blaming you.

Your shoulders slumped, and despair welled up, but your body lacked the strength even to shed tears. You clenched your fists so tightly that your fingernails dug into your palms, an agonizing reminder of your helplessness.

"God... please," you whispered, your voice a desperate plea in the midst of the macabre scene. The last remnants of your clan, the servants, the soldiers, your own blood—their lives had all been snuffed out.

The once-proud [L/n] clan, now reduced to a memory, stood on the precipice of extinction. You were the sole survivor, a solitary heiress to a lineage of nothingness. The weight of this grim reality pressed upon you, though it felt like mere seconds separated you from joining the departed.

Alone and vulnerable, you embraced grief and awaited death.

"Wasn't that quite refreshing, Uraume?" Sukuna's voice rang out, his presence looming closer.

"It certainly was, my lord," Uraume responded, his words dripping with sadistic amusement.

You remained ensnared in your misery, dry tears long gone, your throat raw from unspoken anguish. As Sukuna drew near, his laughter filled the air. He crouched before you, his posture languid, his gaze filled with a sadistic fascination that thrived in your torment.

“Now, what will I do with you…” A reminder that you were at the mercy of the King of Curses. As he hummed with closed eyes, searching for answer in his evil mind, his clawed-thumb supported his chin as he tilted his head, his other arms resting over his knees. He was unfazed, lacking any remorse or guilt, he was amused. He truly could not care less about what he had done.

“Ah, yes!” he clapped his hands, eyes wide open along with a bright smile. He sought to meet your gaze, but your head hung too low to notice, and without warning, he raised it with his hand. He pinched your chin, puncturing his claws in your (color) skin. Perhaps, it would leave a scar, but that would heal. Unlike your heart, which would certainly have one– a nasty, deep one, for sure. One that would never heal.

Even though he lifted your head, your gaze refused to meet his. Your (e/c) were dull and empty, your eyelids were swollen and you were crestfallen. His red-eyes went to the side. It slightly irked him, he despised the weak and that face you held was the epitome of weakness. Yet, he could put you to greater use.

“Hear me out, girl” Ryomen Sukuna spat. His eyes glinted with malevolent intent, “You haven’t been the only one to come up to my shrine and be offered as a pretty human bride. But I fear there is just no more space in my harem and I have just enough servants… But I am missing a priestess for my shrine, someone to worship me and pray in my name. A human to set as an example for the rest, a shepherd for these pathetic, weak sheep.”

His tone holds mockery and his eyes hold mischievousness, an egotistical and narcissistic abyss that wants to be filled to the brim. He is asking you to strip off any remaining pride and honor, just to serve him.

“So what do you say? Who knows… if you do your job well you might get to live a little bit more…”

The King of Curses looked back to your face, you were bewildered and your features scrunched in disgust. Of course, Sukuna knew you would hesitate, you just need a little pushing around, “And if you don’t accept my kind offer, well, I could just have my fun with you before ripping you apart and ending your miserable life.”

You gulped. The implications of his word, ‘having his fun with you’, it sent shivers down your spine. It could mean anything, and nothing good for certain. You do not wish to die such a horrible death, what choice do you have? Being used by Ryomen Sukuna like a doll would be humiliating and atrocious, but serving him like a priestess would betraying your morals– yet, you’d live.

You would live to see another day.

You grimaced, a silent tear slipping down the corner of your eye, ‘I am sorry, Mother, Father, Uncle… everyone’

“I don’t have all day, girl”

“I accept”

Sukuna’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise as a cheshire grin spread on his face. He chuckled upon your despair, what more could the weak do than take the slightest chance to be spared? If you were stronger, you could have attempted to resist him, but you were not, you were at his mercy.

“Then bow your head to your new god and present yourself”. The sentence came in the format of a command, one so powerful it instantly made your elbows seek the ground and plummeted your forehead below.

“I am [Y/n] [L/n], heir of the [L/n] Clan.”

On the back of your head you felt a sudden pressure being forced, its flat surface made you believe it was one of his feet. “That name…”

The pressure intensified as he sank his foot deeper and rubbed it against your skull, his next words only aggravated the pain “Ah, yes! The [L/N] Clan, yes, I got word I killed two of their most powerful sorcerers, the heads of the clan nonetheless. It made it all the more funny, they were weakling scum. Pathetic really how the remains of their oh so proud clan, barged into my home pleading for mercy and now I have their daughter right at my foot to serve me.” His laugh was loud and boisterous, as if someone had told him the best joke around, his four eyes holding disdain and madness. His laugh continued to echo across the room, before dying down as he inhaled and exhaled, a smaller smile painting his face.

His four eyes looked down at you.

“You are now solely [Y/n], after all, no [L/N] remains… Stand up.” he removed his foot.

He ordered you to stand up and although your knees buckled, you managed. However, you remained your head low, avoiding eye-contact.

“Well, then. You ought to begin, your first task will be to clean up this mess. Leave this place spotless.” He said without a care of the bodies, without acknowledging the value of the lives he had taken. “Uraume, after she finishes give her further instructions, show her how things work around here.”

“As you wish, my lord”. The man with light-blue hair and peculiar robes showed himself again, this time, right by your side but not at the same level, a step in front.

“And [Y/n]- I despise incompetence”. His eyes shot daggers at your form and his voice rid itself of any sarcastic or ‘humorous’ tone, it was a very real threat. You gulped and nodded, bowing your head in an instant, but something about the way he said his words unease you– the gears in your head began shifting rapidly and you were quick to reach the conclusion, for your sake.

“Y-yes, my lord.” You copied this ‘Uraume’ man, and bowed your head further. The King of Curses chuckled.

“Very good, you are a fast learner it seems.”

Without further ado, Ryomen Sukuna walked away along with Uraume, who later came back to toss you cleaning supplies, a bucket of water and a broom and a rag- he disappeared with a twisted smile too, much like his lord.

You stood still there with the broom in your hands as by your feet, the severed head of your uncle kept staring at you. You rolled the sleeves of the ruined hanfu, and began to mop.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #self insert #yandere blog #yandere writing #yandere jjk #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader

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hoes4hoseok · 4 months

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enhypen as the tortured poets department

pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!

ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys

“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”

ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met

because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it

so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)

&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together

especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.

he was passive about it all before you.

there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did

not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently

but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you

not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you

but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye

he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much

because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.

so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.

you weren’t.

sunoo as down bad

“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”

sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper

he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world

that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along

so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.

&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.

finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.

he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭

&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad

it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”

no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end

you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him

from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store

‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’

to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out

‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)

&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were

but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.

jungwon as fresh out the slammer

“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”

you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated

likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives

&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast

he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid

it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated

the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures

&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.

it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it

&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible

you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years.

one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.

he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more

the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago

you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend

but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him

you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you)

&& checked how he was doing online periodically

but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life.

you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months

but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years

“y/n?”

his voice was almost a whisper.

“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”

“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

“thank you.”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“i missed you.”

heeseung as the alchemy

“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”

when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol

&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that

because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)

but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule

&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK

he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶

which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:

one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his

two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee

&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted

but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.

it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao

you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.

you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him

but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him

&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others

because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.

jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus

“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”

jay was hurting you

with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,

at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,

with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.

you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.

his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything

at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.

until you weren’t.

when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.

he might have loved you.

but if that was the case, he never told you.

on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.

had he done the mature thing & moved on?

did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?

did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him?

there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button

almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say

“i loved you the way that you were.”

(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)

jake as so high school

“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”

jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!

he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world

&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY

he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.

“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”

he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time

but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.

"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god

he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3

his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together

"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy

which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚

you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing

after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you

which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.

😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"

"i'd really like that"

&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.

he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you

&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light

you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe

oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT

i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.

sunghoon as i look in people’s windows

"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"

you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened

especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window

contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily

you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand

&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.

memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.

you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence

for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.

finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled

they never saw you. you ran before they could.

perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.

txt version ☆ midnights version ☆ masterlist

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missmarveledsblog · 15 days

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Not just a flower child huh? Part one ( logan howlett x reader)

Summary : the xmen are sent to rescue mutants in a lab , only find an unconscious young woman and couple of kids , when they bring her back to the mansion she is recognised by one of the residents . She awakes and finds out she and kids been saved wondering if it was all too good to be true ?

Warning: angsts , mentions of mutant children being abused , it's alot but there some fluff in there too , she has multiple "gifts " due to the lab . Google translated Russian so I apologise in advance if anyone has corrections feel free to leave them , grammatical errors too

It was in shambles , the outside looked desolate, void of any life and yet they knew it wasn't. The professor was never wrong with these Things . But looking at the place it looked abandoned ready to crumble To the ground into a pile of rubble and dust. Jean crouched with the rest of them she was seeking out the mutants that were held in the broken walls of the place . Shit it even had logan feeling certain Way when Charles called them to break Down the Mission . Four possibly five Kids held in a cage used like lab rats to try make their mutation Into so serum. It was always kids , parent sending them off into the world Because They were different or it scared them he never cared for the excuses , there was never an excuse to abandon or sell off your child because of something they were born with . It never sat right with him and it never would.

“ ten of the guards are heading down the basement fully loaded , we need to get in there now “ Jean Stood concerned Eyes watching every direction of the house til the sound hit , a hail of gun fire sounded off and yet not one bullet coming Near them only signal The true intent. “ we need to go she can't hold them off much longer” Jean called Running towards the house as the other followed

Logan had the door pulled out it was stronger than it appeared, and if it wasn't a race against time, they would be impressed at the faux exterior of the place . Inside was like high-end laboratory. It was also full of guards coming towards them Jean grey could easily hold them as storm Send them to the floor in a spasm before they went unconscious as logan and Scott were able to knock and sent them down to the ground with hard thud. The alarm rang out as they were Running down the hall and down the stairs into the basement , Scott was able to break the door easily with his beam sending a smirk at logan . The basement fit the exterior it was dingey and dirty , smell of mould and damp . It was not a place even a rat would stay in too Long . Right in the center was a large Cage thick metal Bars that connect From the floor to the ceiling that was not the part that surprised them . It was the thick almost tree Like vine Wall that was in the cage.

The guard turned only for Jean to raise their Own gun in the air and pull them down hitting them on head Sending them to the ground.

Scott stood forward hand at his visor ready to shoot when the redhead Stopped him , stood in front of him

“ there's kids in there, you could hurt Them “ she waved. Only as the others began To try think Of a way logan claws began cutting through the vines making Them weak enough to pull them away To see the kids all standing protectively in front Of another … Was it a woman .

“ we're here to help , we're going to take you somewhere safe” storm smiled softly holding her hand out letting the sparks flicker to show They were one of them.

“ помоги нашей сестре ( help our sister)” one finally Spoke moving So they could see the woman laid out of the ground they couldn't tell if she was breathing or not Til logan lifted Her up . She was almost lifeless But their Was a faint flicker of a pulse , a small thump of a heartbeat.

“ we need to go , get chrome Dome Ready to translate I don't think they can speak English” logan gruffed as the kids hesitantly Followed still Unsure who these strangers where but they had their sister and they had kind smiles.

The jet ride back they were able to get colossus To translate And explain to the kids they were safe but in the whole thing they didn't care all they cared for was Their sister if she would be ok , she kept them safe made sure no harm came from them.

“ she Said she made sure the bad men never got their chance To hurt them so they tried to get rid of them” even the big strong man that colossus was , they could hear that slight waver in his voice .

“Do we know who these kids are?” ororo Asked.

“ professor is working On it , he'll know more once they are here , how is the woman” .

“ barely hanging On , she dehydrated. Malnourished God only know how long she's been there ” logan said seeing how bad of shape She was in. He seen shit like this before captives During war times and shit she made them look healthy.

“ it gonna be hard to get them to Leave her” they watched as kids stood at her side once again in a protective stance.

They were right moment they got back to the mansion The kids didn't want to leave Her side as colossus came and explained It wasn't a prison they could visit her once she was checked over , once they were check Over. That still didn't work til they were brought With her. And one even went to attack when they saw Jean had a needle . It took hours for them to leave just to get cleaned up and check over .

“ their underweight but not by much ask them did they eat much” ororo asked.

“сестра следила за тем, чтобы у нас была еда и вода, и даже давала свои, если мы были голодны. ( sister Made sure we got food and water , even gave hers when we were Hungry)” one spoke up .

“ you can understand English ? Can you speak it” she asked looking at the girl who must of been no more than ten years old .

“ a little sister Teach me, so we can ask for help” she nodded .

“ do you know your names we can try find out about you guys” ororo Looked at them .

“ I'm Ana, this is lia , Henry and luka , sister is Y/N , safe here?” Ana asked softly.

“Y/n?” colossus asked looking like he'd seen a ghost before rushing out the room.

“ very safe no one will hurt you here” ororo crouch down only for Ana To flinch away.

“ we are lucky , the others were not , that made sister sad”.

“ what others ? Ana honey what others?” .

“ our other siblings they did Not make it, they took them when we sleep , sister Made them pay” Ana sniffled as ororo held Her hand.

He ran down the hall , his heart beating fast as it felt like it echoed through the walls. He nearly ran into multiple people on his way a quick sorry til he got to the medwing opening the door.

“ hey kids ok” logan asked only for piotr to ignore the man completely his eyes only looking at the bed seeing her , she was a lot different but time would do that in still in away she Looked like the same little girl he remembered .

“ hey you ok, you know her don't you ?” Logan stood coming to his side.

“ she is my little sister” he said holding her hand in his it almost looked tiny . Then again she was always tiny , she was reason his mutation happened he was saving her when a tractor almost hit her. He joined x men in hopes of settling in america bring her there then his parent told him she was in boarding school then it was she was missing then it was she was dead . He regretted that his whole life not taking her with him at first .now here she was going Through hell and back and she was alive.

It was weeks the kids became Comfortable Turned out their parent sold them to the lab they were kept in. Took hank a long time to secure them visa but he got them even for y/n who lay unconscious still. She was a mystery , they knew who she was , her age , height but as far as powers and everything else well the lab didn't go into detail on her or they couldn't . From the kids recollection she was defiant , never bending to their will they all wondered how she lasted so long or why they kept her so long . Piotr or Peter he let some call him , she was nine years old when his parent sent her away or sold her away it was too hard to even think of it , to think he left her to face all of this . Jean told him she was like him the way she put those kids before herself , how she almost killed herself to save them . A soft nod he headed off to check on the kids who knew little English and meant more to his sister than life itself he could at least make sure they were taken care of and not alone.

Bright was first thing that came to mind , it was bright before her eyes even open and when they did it stung and took a little longer to adjust . It was bright but it was clean , she wasn't tied down so it wasn't the lab … the lab … the kids . She stood uneasy at first maybe she was out longer than she thought. Looking around the room for some indication to where the hell she was , where were the kids closing her eyes and searching them in her mind she could let sigh in relief they were here . She walked to the door ready to break it down only for it to open itself her head tilting in confusing she grabbed the long doctors coat giving she had tank top and underwear on . She could sense someone approaching , the smell of whiskey and cigar filled her nose as she hid at the corner. The footstep coming to her as she lifted her palm slammed the man to the wall vines holding him in place.

“ woah at least buy me dinner first bub” he chuckled .

“ where are the kids” she glared .

“ the kids are safe , let logan go he won't hurt you , follow my voice” it called in her head making her turn and let the man drop to the ground .

“ kids safe?” she asked through her mind the walk breaking into a run. She didn't care that it was potentially a trap if it meant a sliver of hope those kids where safe. She felt the hardwood under her feet , the lab coat bellowing behind her not noticing the eyes that followed Her or the other kids around. She stood Outside a big oak door slowly opening It waiting for a trap.

“SISTER" Ana and the other ran knocking her to the ground Not that she cared . She kissed each of their heads looking at the faces that looked alot Better Before She passed out.

“ may I have a word with your sister , you can have the rest of day off to Reconnect and we can continue our lessons Tomorrow” that same voice she heard in her head now out loud and in the form of a bald man in a wheelchair. She looked to see the words on the board English Lessons , the books on the shelf and the kids outside Playing around.

“ иди я буду только на минутку ( go i'll only be a moment)” she nodded softly as the reluctantly left.

“ my Name is Charles xavier , it is good to see you up and well Y/N .

“ would Say the same but I've no Clue who you are Charles , where am I?” she walked around keeping her distance button the lab coat giving her lack of clothes .

“ my school For gift youngsters a safe Haven for people like us mutants , it's not the lab the only tests we do here are academical” he chuckled. “ my team found you and the children brought you to safety here , the kids Are very protective of you almost attack the team to keep you safe , you done Well to Take care of them” he said a sympathetic look in his eyes she could only nod at .

“ there is someone here who is eager to meet you we can talk More when You are ready truly we are only here To help” he smiled just as a Knock on the door made Her jump. ‘“ oh my dear you need not worry of money but maybe if you want you could help out with the greenhouse again if you want” Charles spoke up as she hesitantly walked to the door opening it .

Her eyes widened , her heart fell into her stomach as she looked into a face she never thought she would see again . He stood like a giant over her and yet he looked like a nervous little boy . Her hand shook as it came tracing the features of his face , he was a man now but then again she wasn't the little girl she once was either . A whurlwind of emotion that rumbled inside her she took her hand back only to close it and connect it to his face sending him down to the ground as the place went silent. She looked up to see that man again the smug one she tied up.

“ not the reunion you were expecting huh?’’ he helped him up .

“ no I was expecting this” piotr groaned rubbing his jaw.

“ ты придурок, ты бросил меня ( you're an idiot , you left me)” she yelled.

“ мне сказали, что ты в безопасности в школе(they told me your were safe at a school)” he reasoned.

“ они продали меня (they sold me)” she growled.

“ они сказали, что ты убежал и умер, я думал, ты умер, прости меня, пожалуйста ( they said you ran and you died , I thought you were dead forgive me please)” she hated how his voice broke and truly it wasn't his fault , he was young himself so she nodded and pulled him into a hug holding Him Tightly.

“ I think they made up” logan chuckled ruffling Henry's Hair .

“ sister they feed us here everyday few times its nice food ” Ana Spoke up only for her to turn see the kids looking Up .

“ cookie too” Henry beamed

“ your English is a lot better” she smiled .

“ Mr professor teach us everyday” Luka said Excitedly.

" just picking up where you left off is all " xavier bowed his head

“ hey look at you, nice to see your awake , would you come with me for a second ” a red head woman called making her head tilt stand back .

“ its ok y/n this is jean grey she is one of the teachers and one of people that rescued You” piotr whispered .

“ your the voice that day” y/n clapped Her hands looking at the woman .

“ I Can show you to your room and get you some Clothes “ jean smiled Only for y/n to be aware of how she was dress or therefore Lack of clothes with a blush to her cheeks she nodded following after the woman . “ so your like me ?” Jean asked.

“ sort of I mean I was pumped full Of stuff I don't know what else I can do” she winced.

“ well we can help with that here , when your ready” .

“ this place doesn't Feel real” she laughed looking around .

“ well It home for along as you want it to be , your not a prisoner anymore” Jean Stopped holding her hand in hers . Y/n turned her face only to see that man watching her intently before looking away .

" isn't she an interesting one " logan muttered, watching her heading up the stairs.

part two

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett xmen #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #xmen #xmen fandom

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stargirlo · 5 months

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𝓜EET THE FUSHIGURO'S — ( 𝕿 ) OJI FUSHIGURO │ "dear babygirl, i'm sorry that your father is not active inside your world." (angst)

not everyone has such a perfect life, but not everyone has such a complex life. things aren't meant to go in a straight line, but things also aren't meant to be in a bumpy ride. everything felt like a maze, trying to find a way to escape this hell hole without any blocks or bumps coming into life — your life, toji's life. everyone has goals, everyone has dreams, everyone can achieve some of their goals and dreams, but some of them don't. and it's fucking hard to overcome that.

being in a relationship with toji fushiguro, ah, toji fushiguro. you aren't married to him but somehow you managed to birth out two beautiful children, first being a beautiful baby boy, megumi fushiguro. he's identical to toji, same hair, same facial features, everything looked alike between the two. in the next few years, a beautiful baby girl now came into the world, tsumiki fushiguro. personality wise, she's just like you, a kind-hearted soul, a sweet girl who should be held with care. you know those stickers that are added to packages when you buy something that can break easily; "fragile. handle with care." yeah, that's tsumiki, and you.

even if the family of four didn't have all the luxury, they say that it's the littlest things that can balm your shell.

remember how you used to be so fragile, so kind, and so, so sweet. well that wasn't permanent, and it was only temporary as soon as toji was on and off with family. you know he's working, but you don't know what or who he's working for or who he's even working with. even a man can have his own struggles; but what kind? gambling problems? drinking problems? pill-popping and spending problems? bad with money? only toji knows.

"mama when is daddy coming back?" "is daddy gonna come to my ninth birthday?" "are we gonna watch frozen with daddy?" "is daddy gonna help us with our timetables?"

those questions tire you because you don't know, you really don't. you wish you could explain where he's at, but with so little information and so little contact, you don't know where the fuck that man is.

until this one night where you left yourself and toji into shambles.

carefully leaving your bed in which tsumiki and megumi are currently sleeping in, you set yourself off to leave and relax on the living room. it took some time for the kids to sleep, it took more time for you to even sleep despite having to wake up early for work tomorrow.

not until the jangling keys were hear through the front door, and the loud creak audibly heard across the hallway and onto the living room. he's here. you looked across the room just to make sure it was him, even though you know it is him because he's the only one that has a spare apartment key to his own place. or rather your place now.

"the fucking nerve," you grumble under your breath, a vein almost popping out of your skin. getting up from the couch you came up to him, the reeking scent of alcohol lingered just two feet away from you. the musky scent of sweat and dirt combined with such a foul smell that made your whole face twist and scrunch. eye bags were visible, hair disheveled and greasy, lips chapped, breath probably smelling horrible, and clothes needing to be washed asap. he's a fucking mess.

"mm- what? 'm home..." he spoke lowly, scratching his head as he always kept up his nonchalant nature. one of his hands held a medium sized plastic bag, hanging lazily between his fingers. "yeah no shit." you said sternly, arms crossing in disbelief as your eyes followed all over him like he was some sort of homeless person. "what's up with you? why're mad, babe..?" he cocked a brow, energy low and definitely not in the mood to hear your constant babbling.

you scoffed. what is up with you anyway? is he fucking with you? "what's up with me is that you didn't come home in almost about a month. you look like a fucking mess and you smell like absolute shit." now the jet black haired man knew that shit was getting serious, the way you're just talking to him like that, and the way you're saying that he smells like shit. he needs to tighten up because your points are right about him. "what a nice way to welcome me back, thought i was expecting a kiss or sumn'–"

"are you kidding me, toji? showing up at midnight and acting all nonchalant and shit. you don't understand how fucking worried i was for you? even the kids were asking me about you, keeping them on their toes everyday without any news from you and praying that you'll be okay. do you understand what you are fucking putting me through just now? work was the only thing being up my ass and now there are multiple other things that i have in my hands and in my care." you rasped, eyebrows pinching together as frustration slowly seeped into your nerves, holding back the urge to lash at him. "instead of you, the man of the house, having all the courage to take care of its family, you fucking destroy it. fucking us all up." your hands ball into fists, the whole scene turning into a tense argument.

"you should've been teaching megumi his timetables, or maybe watching frozen with tsumiki. you missed out on my baby girl's birthday, she just turned nine and i could tell that her birthday wish was for you to come back." slowly, your voice started to crack, salty tears welling up your dropping eyes. "and what have you been doing during those times where i've worked my ass off overtime at a fucking convenient store? huh? i'm so tired, toji, and i bet you are too. but the way you're just unexpectedly showing up when you're the reason you've put me at my lowest is fucking unacceptable." you spat, a streak of tear running down your cheek. toji exhales deeply, knowing how you feel and it was actually his fault that you turned out this way. guilt and frustration washes through him, not having any other excuse about his absence.

"look, the point is that 'm here now. and i promise that i won't leave without letting you know, i promise i'll build a connection with our kids–" and then again, you interrupted his promises. "promise? hah– you? promising something that you'll do again? make up your fucking mind, toji. you broke our promises, you said that you'll marry me someday; that's a fucking lie. you said you'll get payed more and pay off our bills; that's also a fucking lie because you're using that shit to buy rum and gamble out the money that could save our life. look at you, fucking pathetic. you're embarrassing yourself at this point because i know what your true intentions are, toji. are you still popping pills to keep yourself at your feet? did you fuck whores at a brothel while you're at it?" those bitter and heartless words have left toji in shock, of course it has, you know him well and clear — like he was an open book to you.

"did you buy tsumiki the barbie doll that she asked for a few months ago? or did you gamble that money?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as your expression was evident that you were not buying this. "because i know for sure that i was counting pennies at the grocery store to buy that fucking toy for tsumiki–" you spat, holding back from having a psychotic episode before toji's gruff voice interrupted you now. "don't speak like that if you're going to mention our daughter." he gives off a warning, but you could only scoff at disbelief at it, why's he all of a sudden caring so much? "our daughter? no no no, you barely did shit for her and now you're trying to be on your goody-two-shoes to act like you care about our daughter? where were you when i gave birth to her, huh? where were you when i gave birth to megumi?" your voice echoed through the hallway, the argument getting louder that the kids would probably hear it.

"megumi, why's mommy yelling?" tsumiki asked in a hoarse voice, waking up to the ruckus happening outside of the bedroom. megumi softly hushed the little girl, placing his hands that are slightly bigger than hers to her ears, muffling your shouts and derogatory words. "it's gonna be okay, she's just talking to daddy..." he murmured reassuringly, hiding the fact that he's on the edge of tearing up after finding out the truth about the absence of his father.

"you're acting like you did most of the work when you haven't been on my shoes." toji stated, his stomach twisting at the fact that you bought up the way he wasn't with you during labor. "because i did most of the work you dickhead! you barely didn't show up for your own family, for your own lover who was giving birth to your fucking kids! how would you think i was feeling during that time toji?! squeezing the nurses hand instead of yours while i was popping my ass off to give you two beautiful kids into this shitty life!" you shouted, already having a mental breakdown as more tears bubbled within your lower lashline. "you never open about yourself, you never show any ounce of affection ever since we had kids, you never did the bare minimum to show that you still love us! you're a fucking disappointment toji! you don't know nothing about taking care of things. waking up the kids? know nothing about that. teaching them basic human decency? know nothing about that. telling them to pray? know nothing about that. taking them to school? you know nothing about that." and that was the breaking point. the plastic bad dropped down to the floor as his calloused hands quickly loomed over to you to grab you at your shoulders.

"call me a disappointment one more time 'n see what fucking happens." he shook you like you were mentally ill, thinking that some sense would come to your mind. but could you let him get this physical with you? fuck no. "don't touch me you freak!" you squealed, hands that are smaller than his large ones grab his wrists as an attempt to pull away from his embrace. "can you take a second to understand what i've been going through?! jesus... haven't had a single moment to express myself for just a fucking minute." he grunts, the grip on your shoulders loosening up as he wasn't daring himself to even hurt you. no way.

"and what do you have to say to this, huh?! stop trying to figure out a useless excuse so that i could come back to you like nothing happened." you sniffled through your nose, soft hiccups eliciting through your slightly swollen lips. "please just hear me out–" toji exclaims, showing an ounce of vulnerability that he wasn't planning on expressing. "no! take your fucking shit and leave this goddamn place," you quickly push him away from your personal bubble, grasping the plastic bag and slamming it at his chest. "you're nothing but a fucking deadbeat who doesn't even deserve to be called a 'father'." and with that, he's standing by the front doorway, mentality absolutely destroyed as his face uttuerly grew pale. this was it. this was over.

"if you weren't raised in such a fucked up clan, maybe you shouldn't have been such a shit dad."

the aftermath of the argument left toji having a hole to his stomach. it was like daggers were digging deeper and deeper into his gut. what you yelled and screamed at him for was probably right, maybe he is a shit father; maybe he was born in a fucked up family and turned out this way. the plastic bag swung between his thick fingers, walking like a kicked puppy in the rain as he was lost in his thoughts.

a nearby trash can was visible along his way, now carelessly throwing away the bag and discarding it with the rest of the trash and pests that were there. what was in that bag anyway? take-out? alcohol? meds? no. they were two gifts that megumi and tsumiki were asking for a few months ago. a pretty blonde barbie doll in her pink little dress, and a few stacks of digimon cards. all of that went to waste.

meet the fushiguro's.

note: phewww, that was a lot. updating my masterlist tmrw. have a good night everyoneeeeeeeeee.

⠀( OWNED BY ) STARGIRLO.

do not plagiarize any of my works , translate them , or repost them anywhere around any other social media platform . thank you .

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milf-murdock · 5 months

Note

Hi!! I love love love your writing! Especially your 141!Reader series <3 I don't know if you take requests, but your last post about Simon and baby Joseph made me so angsty and I would love to read more angst from you. Could you please write about Simon thinking 141!Reader was KIA on a mission? Thank you!!!

Anon....who....who hurt you???? I’m kidding 😆 mostly 👀 But for real, this one HURT. Like. OUCH. This man has been through so fucking much…but let’s put him through a bit more 😈😈😈 also, I did very much hurt my own feelings with this one. So I’m thinking we might need a part two reunion because I don’t know if I can leave our Ghosty boy in shambles like this

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain patters against the window in a steady rhythm.

Simon watches the fat raindrops roll down the small window pane, one foot anxiously tapping against the concrete floor. He didn’t know why he was called to Price’s office, but there was an ominous charge to the air. Call it a premonition, or maybe an instinct, but he knew in his bones that something was wrong.

The click of the door handle pulls Simon from his thoughts as Price enters the office, a heavy silence filling the air.

“What’s happened?” Simon's voice has a hard edge to it, cutting straight through the bullshit. Watchful eyes appraise every detail of Price’s body language, and Simon notes the deep sunken look of his captain’s eyes accentuated by a somber expression.

Price avoids Simon's gaze, staring down at the oak desktop before him as he takes a seat. The captain wasn’t one to mince words or beat around the bush, but even he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the situation despite his many years in the service.

Simon's heart hammers in his chest, every second in the unknown feeling like an eternity. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself.

Price steels himself with a deep inhale, pulling his gaze from the desk to face Simon head on, looking past the mask, speaking to the man he knew laid beneath.

“I wanted you to hear this from me, son. You…deserve to hear this from me.”

Simon stops breathing.

With practiced determination, Price continues his speech, having rehearsed the words in his head the entire walk down to his office.

“Reconnaissance mission, Operation Blackout, suffered multiple casualties after a long-range detonation by enemy action. There’s been no contact with the team, and rescue attempts were unsuccessful due to the extensive damage caused by the explosion. All team members are presumed KIA. The official course of action…”

The rest of Price’s speech is drowned out by the dull roar in Simon’s ears; his blood runs cold, his rigid body barely breathing.

This can’t be happening. Not again. Never again.

Simon's thoughts grip him by the heart, squeezing painfully.

I can’t do this again.

He had already lost everyone once. Had built impenetrable walls, designed to protect him from this type of pain.

But you. You and your goddamn charm, and your soft smiles, and your relentless fucking attitude. You broke down those walls brick by brick, made Ghost–no, made Simon– feel more like a man than he had in years. You slipped past his ironclad defenses and took his heart without him even realizing it.

And just when he had finally opened up, just when he had finally convinced himself that maybe he could be happy–that you could be happy together. It all came crashing down.

In the distance, Ghost could hear shouting. A chorus of denials piercing the air, heavy ragged breaths filling the silence between.

A heavy hand fell on Ghost's shoulder and he found himself back in his body, looking up at Price, voice raw.

With a stark realization, Ghost realizes it was him. He was the one shouting, the one gasping for breath.

The world tilted out from under him.

____________

Ghost left Price’s office a different man–a mere shell of the man who entered. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping further and further into the familiar safety of Ghost, an unpierceable facade moving through the world.

Everything felt wrong. Every step. Every breath. He felt like he was moving underwater, every action taking twice the effort it should.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The official order that he was being sent on leave. The ensuing argument with Price over the orders. He eventually just gave up. Leave, no leave, it didn’t fucking matter.

None of it fucking matters.

Johnny tries to see him before he leaves, meeting Simon on the tarmac. He tries to be there for his lieutenant, his friend.

The red rim around Johnny’s eyes reminds Simon that he wasn’t the only one who had lost you. They had all lost you. But even that which should have been a comfort, a sort of kinship in the grief, meant nothing. Simon didn’t give a singular fuck. He turned away from Johnny mid-speech, leaving the Scotsman to sit in his grief alone as he watched Ghost disappear into the aircraft.

____________

It takes every ounce of strength Ghost has to make it through the flight. To make it through the drive back home. To make it through that door.

Keep it together, soldier. Don’t you dare fucking lose it, Simon Riley. Just a bit longer.

His belongings crash to the floor as the door slams shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, instead using the faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains to guide him to the cabinet.

Ghost pulls the bottle of bourbon from its resting spot, not even bothering with a glass as he pulls off the corked top and takes a hearty swig.

The burn of the liquid is invigorating, filling Ghost with a quiet simmering fire.

He takes another drink. And another.

He walks through the flat in a daze, the amber liquid dulling his senses, sending him even deeper into the haze of his grief.

Ghost finds himself in front of his dresser, staring at the wooden drawers.

Taking another drink, he steels himself as he yanks open the top drawer. Rummaging beneath the pile of socks and t-shirts, Ghost digs out the small velvet box. He grips it tight in his hand, the small object groaning in protest as waves of rage and pain overtake Ghost, threatening to pull him under. Hot tears slide down his face, but he doesn’t even notice.

With a roar he throws the velvet box across the room, the impact fracturing the drywall. Ghost’s knees go out from under him and he crashes to the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. There would be no repairing this. No amount of time could heal this type of heartbreak.

You were dead.

And as far as Ghost was concerned, Simon Riley died with you.

#y'all I'm so sorry this one HURT #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley imagine #simon “ghost” riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost riley

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qqueenofhades · 8 months

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It's definitely a refusal to engage with or truly understand politics. I'm 24, I was in middle school during Obama's second term and 17 in 2016, and I feel like a lot of my peers just continue to be appalled at how bad things have gotten with the Republicans and why Democrats can't do anything to stop it. What's missing from their understanding is how long it took for the Republicans to get here. It didn't start in 2016. They worked for decades to do all the nightmarish shit they're doing now, and Democrats just haven't been able to do the same (because people refuse to vote consistently and give them the power to do those things). I feel like that's where the "both sides are the same" bullshit comes from - the idea that if the Dems wanted to stop the GOP, they would. It's a fundamental misunderstanding of how anything works, and often relies on downplaying how bad the Republicans actually are in order to support their 'Dems are just as bad' stance.

Things did get catastrophically worse when Trump was elected, and he broke things way more than they ever had been, but he doesn't exist in a vacuum and it took the Republicans a lot of fucking work for him to do what he did. The only way the Dems can counteract that is by having a party of people willing to put in a similar level of work, and that requires understanding our structures and how things work (executive orders are only temporary fixes and actual legislation takes time, compromise, and work), and a lot of these people just aren't willing to do it.

The thing is, yes, I absolutely do get the feeling that everything is terrible and we are doomed. I went through it when GWB was re-elected in 2004 and then again in 2008, worrying about whether Obama would get elected and end that particular run of Republican-induced misery (when John McCain looks like a fucking saint compared to the GOP candidates we are being offered now), and obviously plumbed the depths of despair in 2016 with Trump. But I don't remember ever thinking that I should just give up trying, stop voting, or any of that, and I don't think it was because I was some kind of special person who was just so tenacious. I obviously have not been a teenager in the present era and yes, that means I have different views on things from the next generation, but also: this has always happened. Moments of total political despair and feeling that everything is fucked are also not a new thing. We are going through it with Trumpism, the previous generation went through it with Reagan/Thatcher, the previous previous generation went through it with Nixon/Vietnam, the previous etc generation went through it with the Cold War, the previous etc. etc. generation went through it with World War II -- and so forth. There has never been any one point when everything was great and there was no work left to be done, because, y'know. That is not how either history or human nature works.

Hence, that is why I'm trying to figure out what in the fuck is going on right now, and whether it's just social media that have made things so bad (entirely possible). Critical thinking is a shambles, yes, but that's not necessarily something young people have chosen for themselves. The current world is a late-stage capitalist dystopia run by four or five trillionaire oligarch cartels and corporations, and obviously public education, basic civic responsibility, the teaching of any "controversial" history, and everything else that might threaten that setup has been systematically and methodically dismantled, politicized, or so infiltrated with false information that it's basically useless. That in itself is not young people's fault. They have genuinely been dealt a terrible hand in many ways, and I don't blame them for being angry about it. I too am angry about it! I do question, however, when the overwhelming sentiment became "well we should just give up and let the bad guys win, either because it's too much work to change it or because that will spark the Great Revolution and that's the only way to fix things ever, and doing anything else at all in the meantime is wrong."

Once again: I do not blame young people for being angry at the shitty situation they are currently facing. I do not blame young people for being disillusioned with the system and thinking that it can't solve everything at once. But yet again: there has never been any government, country, or organization in the history of ever anything everywhere that was able to do that, and the ones that tried, or insisted that they could do it, were infamously murderous bloodbaths, because breaking society (even with all its flaws) into a thousand pieces and thinking this will make My Preferred Ideological Utopia Now Appear is probably the deadliest belief in all of time and space. The world is flawed and has been for all time because humans are flawed and probably will be for all time. Being a grownup requires coming to an understanding of that fact and seeing what you can do in spite of that. People in every era have had gaps and biases and blind spots and other things that hobbled their understanding or made their efforts for change less perfect or complete than they would have wanted in an ideal world, and they have had to move past those anyway. The current generation is no different. Not to sound like a boomer, but even despite the mess they've been faced with, they need to figure out how to engage with it anyway and not just completely absolve responsibility because they can't fix it all at once. Which I don't think most young people do! There are plenty of them who really do get it and are engaged and idealistic and working for good change, and that's great! It's just the other part that worries me, and which is not as small as we would like to think.

And yes, part of this is just flat-out bad information and the stubborn lack of any desire to change it if it conflicts with pre-existing beliefs. (This is by no means exclusive to young people of this current generation, as it's another bad habit of humanity, but yes.) In the aforementioned "you're driving young leftists away :(" ask I got yesterday, there were also plenty of dubious and just-flat-wrong claims, such as that Democrats keep moving to the right "especially economically." That is just not true. In the last four years, the Democrats have moved the most economically leftward in all of American history and have finally and flatly rejected the Great Reagonomics Myth. Just because Clinton did Reagonomics-lite in the '90s (when most of the current generation of Online Leftists weren't even born), that is thirty years ago and in wildly different circumstances. These things are not difficult to look up. Do it. Try to educate yourself, even if the system doesn't want to do it. You can't just throw up your hands and insist that nobody taught you, so how could you know??? Put that "instant access to all of human history and knowledge" to use, even just a little. It'll be good for you!

Likewise, there was also the anon's befuddling insistence that I was "patronizing" or "shaming" anyone "further left than Biden," which reflects their apparent feeling that telling people to vote for Biden is a "personal attack" on their cherished beliefs, or whatever. I'm unsure how many times we have to keep repeating that voting for a candidate does not mean you are canonizing all their beliefs exactly as your own, and that it's just one tool to do the bare minimum to not live in a fucking fascist theocratic dictatorship, but yeah. I can guarantee you that I personally am well left of Biden. I can guarantee you that most people on Tumblr voting for Biden are probably well left of him as well. That does not negate the fact that Biden is the most progressive president America has ever had, regardless of how much Online Leftists shriek otherwise. It also does not negate the fact that this is by no means true of America as a whole (witness the large faction that still thinks Biden is a godless far-left evil socialist). It does not negate the many complex historical, political, social, cultural, religious, racial, etc reasons that have collided to produce the America where this is the case. Therefore, if I do not want to live in a society ruled by Trump and his orange Nazi minions, which is the case due to how badly the last 10 years have been fucked up, I will use the tool of voting for Biden! He can be successfully pressured to create positive change in the direction that I would like! Trump cannot and will not under any circumstances, regardless of the wild fantasies that suddenly he will transform into a perfect progressive on Gaza or whatever other issue! THIS IS NOT THAT FUCKING DIFFICULT!!!!!!!

Anyway. All of this is obviously complicated. Obviously things are bad and frightening and we want a solution that fixes all of it at once, instead of slowly, badly, and piecemeal. But as I said: that has never, not once, been the case in all of history, and we know what happens when people and/or governments with delusions of psychopathic grandeur try to do it. We do not want the "Final Solution" (which is infamous as what Hitler literally called the Holocaust). We do, in fact, want the careful step by step, we want things to get better and not just explode in a mountain of nihilistic doom, and that does take work, from everyone. So unfortunately, there is no real choice except to do it.

#anonymous #ask #history #politics for ts

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beansnsoup · 3 months

Text

The World We Knew

Summary: He was yours, emphasis on was. One day, you were in love, at least you were. The next, He was gone, and you felt as if your whole world had gone in shambles.

Relationship: Romantic?

Character: Loid Forger

Warnings: Angst, Long lost love, fem reader, but it's not a huge part of the storyline, Spy x Family VOL. 10 spoilers!!!!

Note: I hate to have put "blank" when talking about loid but considering the storyline circumstances and volume 10 we still don't know his name, like it was literally bleeped out in the volume itself.

Peace.

It's what the both of you wanted. It's what everybody wanted.

You had known him since you were kids, and you always knew it had been a passion of his to move forward with the war to gain the peace of every townsperson deserved. He wanted more with his life, and that was what he chose.

Out of everyone in the little group you had, you were the closest with him. He had always been so nice to you and never failed to make you feel included.

You weren't a big fan of playing war games with him and the other boys, but you remember one instance where they had told you to just go home because they didn't want you moping around why they were playing their army games.

All of the boys agreed except him.

He suggested you be a nurse. What would happen if they got hurt, and nobody was there to help? You happily took on this role. He always found a way to make you feel special.

When you talked about all of these interactions with your mother, she told you upfront that you had a crush on him. At the time, you were too young to think about having a crush.

However, as you got older and really thought about how much you talked about him and how he made you feel, it was, in fact, a crush.

After the bombing in Westalis, you hadn't seen him in years. You had always assumed that he was caught in the ruble of it all. You know that was thinking the worst, but it was completely possible.

You had decided to volunteer as a nurse for the war, the role you felt you were meant to be in. It just felt right to help out. Plus, if he was alive, you'd knew for a fact he'd be fighting in the war, underage or not. One day, you could see him again.

At the moment, you weren't placed in the hospital wing. You'd instead been sent to go provide food for all the soldiers, the ones in care, and the ones walking around freely.

"Wait... Is that you advisor?"

You overhear someone ask over the ruckus of the townspeople and soldiers, your mind immediately went straight to the first face you had locked with that name, but you knew it couldn't be, there was no possible way.

Even though you had been waiting all these years to hear that name and see that face, it just all still felt so unreal, you just couldn't bear to face the reality of it.

"Genral? Corporal? Major?"

"It is him!"

"It's advisor!"

"No way! It can't be!"

You weren't trying to eavesdrop, but it was very hard not to. They went on and on about how they attempted to search for "advisor" and how much he had grown.

This time, you couldn't help but look back, and they were right. It was him, and he did look the same. It took every strength in you not to walk over and talk to them, they were your friends, but it had been so long, and they were closer to one another, you didn't want to ruin their moment.

"Now all we need now is our nurse, and the whole gang will officially be back together again!" One of the men chimed in, if only they knew you were standing just a few feet away from them. "Yeah, I've been trying to look for her just as much everyone else, she's probably been on my mind the most."

The guys all hooted at this, you pretended it also didn't get a rise out of you while you still acted as if you were more interested in the fruits in front of you instead of the conversation happening behind you.

"Are you free this weekend? There's a great restaurant in the next town over!" The advisor proposed, trying to distract him from what he had previously said. They all explained what they would be up to but how they'd keep in touch.

You had turned back around by this point, but you could tell he was smiling as he they put together their plans.

You listened to them all walk away, then you're mind started racing,

"Should I have gone to talk to them?"

"No, it's okay, they wouldn't have remembered me."

"But I'd be with him."

You jolted back around, just to find none of them there, damn.

The war had long since been from over. It had probably been one of the worst moments in your life aside from the bombing you'd experienced as a child.

And after seeing all of your old friends names, all except for him, in the charts marked as deceased you knew wouldn't be able to stand another minute witnessing such torture. So now all you could think about was the fact that you could've spoken to them that one day, before they all passed, but you just couldn't muster up the courage.

But now you were starting a new life in a new area, and maybe he would finally leave your mind and just be a fuzzy memory that you joke about with your future children.

At the thought you hear a child start to laugh, you avert your eyes to the direction. She's a young girl, no more than 6 or 7 years old, and she has pink hair that reaches her shoulders, you smile at her excitement.

Moments like these make your mind wander into a field of imagination of the family you could've built by now. But you were fine with not being settled down just yet because you knew with how much time you had been working as a war aid there wouldn't have been any time for love.

And there was no time for love while your mind was still on him.

You glance down back at your book, reading the paragraph over that you were interrupted from.

"Papa! Look! Look at all of the cows!"

"Yes, I see them." He chuckled in response.

Your eyes widen, head jolting back up to the familes direction, that voice.

"Genral? Corporal? Major?"

"...She's been on my mind the most."

"Are you free this weekend?"

It was him, it had to be, there was no doubt about it.

You wanted to walk up and say hi, but you didn't know how weird that would be, considering you had once had your chance for a reunion but blew it. But maybe it was time, even if he had a child next to him, and she called him 'Papa.'

Yet at the same time, you didn't want to regret it for the rest of your life by not going up to speak and reminisce with him like last time.

You would have given anything for him to look at you again.

In that moment, you had decided that it was time, and you would see and talk to him again.

You put your bookmark in, saving your page and closing it, and just as you were about to stand and make your way over, a woman came walking out of the bathroom area of the train.

"Sorry I was gone so long!"

"Mama!"

Your smile dropped, and you felt your world collapse once more. You couldn't feel your face.

She was breathtakingly gorgeous. She had her silky jet black hair that was styled up and beautiful ruby eyes.

She's what he needed, what he deserved.

This made you feel sick to your stomach, but also ashamed, you had been fawning over this man for years. It was embarrassing.

You checked the clock above the door of the train, you didn't know how much more of this you could take, luckily there was only about 15 minutes left of your traveling.

All you could do now was fidget with your clothes and hands. You couldn't even bother to open up your book back up, you know you wouldn't be able to focus on anything that you were reading.

Once the train had come to a complete stop you felt a sense of relief wash over you, you couldn't stand to hear all of them be so happy together, not knowing that her role could've been yours.

You got up from your seat, beginning to grab your bags on the shelf above your seat. You had about 2 or 3.

As you struggled with the bags you didn't know that he had noticed,

"You two wait for me outside, I won't be long."

The two girls walk outside and sit on a nearby bench and wait for him while he helps you, you're still oblivious to everything happening around you.

"Miss?"

You're shocked to hear his voice, you drop your bag, almost tumbling backward but catch yourself on the seat.

He chuckles, "Mind if I help?"

"No, not at all."

You finally spoke to him, you look up at him, locking eyes, it had been everything you dreamed of.

His eyes go so wide, you swear they took the shape of a perfectly round circle.

"Y/n?"

You smile and nod.

He wants to hug you, he wants to hug you for centuries, he doesn't know what to do, this feeling that has just suddenly overcome him is making him feel like he no longer has any control.

There was no other way to explain it, he had thought about you so many nights.

Those nights when he was fighting for peace, he was thinking about you, thinking about how you when you were both still children and you would describe to him your future and the peace that would surround you.

"I-"

He's interrupted by a loud voice outside of the train,

"Passengers need to be making their way out of the carriages , the train will be loading more people soon!"

He rushes to grab your bags and help you off. He stops you outside of the train, a good few steps away from his 'family.'

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, it's reckless, it could ruin everything, but seeing you just opened up something within him and he can't stop himself, he just keeps talking.

"I thought you," he pauses.

"Died?" You finish his sentence, smiling at him still, you couldn't believe this was happening.

"Yeah, that."

"I could say the same for you, blank."

Hearing his real name makes his heart drop a little, he hasn't heard many people speak it since he served in the military and his old friends addressed him by it.

He was glad you were the one to say it.

He sighs, a small smile of his face, "I've missed you, alot.

Tears start to threaten to spill out, "I've missed you too, alot."

"I love you, blank." You say without thinking, he doesn't flinch at this the way he did at hearing his own name, which you don't question.

He stands completely still, looking you right in your eyes, not being able to get enough of this moment.

The next words that come out of your mouth surprise you, "But it's too late," You glance over at his 'family', making eye contact with the little girl, who looks almost as shattered as you do right now.

You grab your bags from him and walk towards the exit, feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

He couldn't feel his face, he felt more numb than he had ever felt before. He hears footsteps come up from behind him.

"Who was that Loid?" Yor asks, Anya clutched by her side, with a sad look on her face, like she had heard the whole conversation, Anya blocked out anything her parents were saying to scan around for the you.

"An old friend," He replies, still looking straight ahead, thoughts racing with what could've been.

my mind has been racing with this concept, sorry for the damage i have caused

#loid forger x reader #loid forger #sxf loid #spy x family loid #spy x family #spy x reader #angst #twilight spy x family #twilight x reader #Spotify

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leclerc-s · 9 months

Text

paint the town red - bonus part

series masterlist

EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE

charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."

charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."

"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"

"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"

"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"

"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."

"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."

"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?

"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."

"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.

daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."

will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."

we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”

toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”

in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"

"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."

tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"

"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"

tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."

"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"

"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."

in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.

"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."

"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"

"i'm happy with my job now."

“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”

“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”

“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”

“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”

charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”

“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”

“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”

“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”

“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”

“i imagine it was a big shock?”

“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”

"is change a good thing?"

"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."

"are things strained between you two?"

"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." charles laughs.

carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.

"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"

"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."

"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."

carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."

"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"

"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."

"i see."

"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." carlos answers.

will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."

series taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @nothaqks @nataliambc @formulaa1d @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #paint the town red series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #marvel social media au #f1 x marvel crossover

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highlordofkrypton · 2 months

Note

Hi, 👀 I was messing around with a bot and thought… what if Tamlin’s mind, in an attempt to cut all the strain and stress, decides to begin locking memories away. Like “You cannot suffer from something that didn’t happen” kind of thing, and causes him a case of amnesia where he doesn’t remember Lucien, or Feyre or the curse. Regressing to a more child/teen-like self.

His body shifting to fit his mentality until he’s a kid again and doesn’t recognize many of the folk in his house. He wonders where his family are, he wonders where his best friend Rhys is and refuses to see or talk to anyone until Rhys comes to visit him.

Lucien tries to care for Tamlin by taking on a babysitter/chaperone kind of role but Tamlin makes a pillow fort from which he refuses to come out until Rhys comes…

I LOVE this prompt so freaking much, it's so cute! I had to write you a ficlet, but you need to promise me not to put it into the bot. I'm not a fan of bot usage, and I'm against my work being run through it, but that said, here's how I see it going down!

(Sorry, I missed the pillow fort part, I got caught up in the feels of the ficlet.)

FROM THE BEGINNING The one where Tamlin forgets everything by becoming a baby again

The world is too big—too unkind. He can't take it anymore.

His mind eats at itself, and no matter how much he claws at it, there is no way for Tamlin to carve out the bits that cause pain.

It's all pain.

There's nothing left. His court is in shambles, and the manor that holds what little good memories is rotting. His mind is rotting.

I can't—I want to restart.

***

"Tamlin?"

It's been so long since Lucien has last lived here; he doesn't know how it went this far. This is his home, or what's left of it. A century ago, he had sworn an oath to protect it and to stand by his best friend and yet…

How easily we are swept away by our fears.

"Tam?" He calls softly through the empty manor.

The longer the silence reigns, the worse the worries in Lucien's heart become. He knew, he knew Tamlin wouldn't fare well alone. He should have stayed despite it all. Feyre isn't a child. She can take care of herself. She insists on it, rather, with her masterminding and machinations. Tamlin doesn't play those games. He never has and it was… unfair.

He was my friend.

There are a few haunts Lucien is familiar with. He goes straight to the Starlight River and—

"Tamlin?" Lucien's voice is nothing more than a surprised croak.

He descends the slope of the hill towards what remains of his friend.

By the water, a little boy with beautiful blonde hair splish-splashes in the water surrounded by his forest friends—a chonky raccoon, a clever long-lashed fox, a full-cheeked squirrel and the big-eyed slow loris that always looks surprised. Lucien has known these creatures for all their lives, and so has Tamlin.

"Tamlin," he says, and all the animals look at Lucien in wonder. He can't speak to them the way Tamlin does, but they worry. They motion at him, chirping and huffing about the baby they've been tasked with taking care of. "I've got it," he reassures them.

"Hey," Lucien says softly, smiling. "Remember me?"

"Fys!" Tamlin chirps, clapping. He extends his little hands and makes a grabby motion. "Fys!"

"You want fish?" Lucien asks, confused, but there's a pile of fish beside him already.

Then, it clicks.

Tamlin's eldest brother was names Enfys, and for a child, that name might sound very much like fish. He also had dark blonde hair that erred on the side of reddish in the right light. Children make associations with what they know.

"I'm Lucien."

"Lucy!" Tamlin grins, looking around for his friend. "Ice-sand?"

Lucien's lips dip into a frown. Tamlin doesn't recognize him as an adult. He offers a quiet sigh as he swoops his friend into his arms. Little Tamlin latches onto him, stroking his long auburn hair gently. Tamlin was always a gentle, loving child. He remembers that much from the few times they met as children.

"Mama," Tamlin asks, and it breaks Lucien's heart.

"Mama's gone. I'm sorry."

***

"Where is he?"

"In his room. Wait," Lucien stops the High Lord in his tracks. "There's something you need to know."

Rhysand doesn't know what to make of what's happening. He makes his way up to Tamlin's room, a place he hasn't visited in centuries. His heart hammers in his chest. So much has changed now. Things are so… broken between them. He didn't know what to make of Lucien's initial summons.

Why would he need me?

He can hear the sniffling through the door. Rhysand pushes it open and expects—

Well, Lucien had told him what to expect.

He needs to see a familiar face, is what the Fox had said. He doesn't remember me.

"Tamlin?"

The child rubs his face, curled in the too-big bed.

"Hey, Tam."

His little ears twitch and the sobbing quells for a second. He blinks his tears away to better see Rhysand. His sad eyes light up at the sight of him as he clamors to his feet, awkward like most children are at that age. He runs and launches himself with a bounce off the bed into Rhysand's arms, trusting him wholly and completely to catch him.

Rhysand swoops him into his arms, confused, but he eases when little Tamlin giggles.

"Hi," he beams.

"Hey, kiddo, I heard you weren't feeling well."

"No," Tamlin lies. "I okay."

"Good, I'm glad."

Rhysand hasn't the slightest clue where to start fixing this, but he thinks Tamlin may be onto something. Maybe they start at the beginning.

"Do you remember me? I'm Rhysand. It's nice to meet you again."

#thank you for the prompt/ask!!#my fics #tamlin #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #rhysand

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