#this made me start sobbing uncontrollably???

[fushizhuo]

Synopsis: You're the youngest member of SKZ and the younger brother of Bang Chan. However, you're sick. And your parents sent you to the US to get treatment. But, they couldn't treat your disease. No matter how hard they tried. So as a final goodbye, you sang a song for your hyungs and your fans.

Genre — Angst.

Warnings — Death

Pairing — M! Reader x SKZ (platonic)

AN note — Transferring my wattpad works over to Tumblr, I made this when I was 12 don't judge 🤞🏻

WC — 4.8k

The arena hums with quiet anticipation, the energy heavy with sadness. Stray Kids are on stage, but the usual vibrant atmosphere is missing. Eight members stand in a row, their faces somber. The space next to them is empty—the place where you always stood.

Chan steps forward, his hands gripping the microphone tightly, his voice trembling as he addresses the crowd. “STAYs, tonight is… different,” he starts, his eyes flicking back to the members, all barely holding back their emotions. “Our member, y/n, couldn’t be with us tonight. But he left us something. A message for all of you.”

The crowd stirs, sensing the gravity of the moment. Then, the massive screen behind the group flickers on, and there you are, sitting in a chair, pale but smiling gently at the camera. You look weaker than ever, but you’re trying to be strong, for them, for the fans.

“Hello, STAYs,” you begin, your voice soft, yet steady. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there tonight with my brothers. The truth is… I’m sick. Really sick.”

The arena falls into a deafening silence. Even though rumors had been swirling for weeks, hearing you confirm it feels like a punch to the gut for everyone present.

“I’ve been fighting this for a while,” you continue, a sad smile tugging at your lips, “but it’s gotten worse. And… I don’t think I’m going to survive this.”

The weight of your words sinks deep into the hearts of the fans, many of whom have already started to cry. The members on stage are barely holding it together. Felix wipes at his eyes, his face twisted in sorrow, tears falling down uncontrollably with I.N comforting him, while Hyunjin clenches his fists, his shoulders trembling.

You pause for a moment, as if gathering the strength to go on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t sing live with you tonight. But I wanted to say goodbye properly, the only way I know how—through a song. This is my final song, and I want to dedicate it to all of you.”

The camera zooms in slightly as you take a deep breath. “STAYs, thank you. You made me braver than I’ve ever been. Every moment on stage, every song, every smile—I did it because of you.”

You look down for a second, composing yourself, before looking back up at the camera, your eyes brimming with tears. “To my hyungs, thank you for taking care of me. You’re my family, and you’ll always be my home.”

With that, you reach for your guitar and start strumming the familiar opening chords of Castle on the Hill. The stadium quiets, listening intently, as your voice fills the arena.

"When I was six years old, I broke my leg,

I was running from my brother and his friends."

The soft, nostalgic melody washes over the crowd, each note filled with bittersweet memories. The camera flashes between you, playing your final song, and old clips of Stray Kids—the early days when you were all just starting out, moments in the dorms, behind-the-scenes laughter.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real."

Your voice trembles slightly, but you keep going, pouring everything you have left into this performance. The members on stage are frozen in place, their eyes locked on the screen as you sing about the good times, about the innocence of youth, and about home.

"When we watched the sunset

Over the castle on the hill…"

The song continues, each lyric hitting harder than the last, and the fans can barely contain their sobs. You sing not just for them, but for your hyungs too, for the family you’re leaving behind.

"One friend left to sell clothes,

One works down by the coast,

One had two kids but lives alone,

One’s brother overdosed,

One’s already on his second wife,

One’s just barely getting by."

As you sing these lines, the camera flashes again to moments from the members’ lives—Chan struggling as a leader, Lee Know dancing through exhaustion, Han and Changbin composing until the early morning, Seungmin’s late-night vocal practices, Hyunjin’s quiet moments of self-reflection, Felix’s smile breaking even through the toughest days.

"But these people raised me,

And I can't wait to go home."

Your voice catches on the word home, and it’s clear that you’re thinking of the members—your brothers who stood by you through it all. The camera shows clips of all eight of you together, laughing, crying, working, living.

"And I'm on my way,

I still remember these old country lanes,

When we did not know the answers."

The music swells, and the arena is filled with your voice, with memories, with everything you’ve been through together. The fans, the members, everyone is united in the sadness of your goodbye.

"And I miss the way

You make me feel,

And it’s real,

When we watched the sunset over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill,

Over the castle on the hill."

As the final chorus fades, the screen cuts back to you. Your guitar falls silent, and you look into the camera one last time, tears filling your eyes but a soft smile still on your lips.

“Thank you, STAYs. You made me feel alive. You made me brave. I love you all so much.”

Your final words are barely above a whisper. “I’ll be home soon.”

The screen goes dark. For a few moments, the arena is completely still. No one moves. No one speaks. It’s as though the world itself is holding its breath, not wanting to acknowledge what just happened.

Then, the sobs start—quiet at first, then louder, until the entire stadium is filled with the sound of heartbreak. The members on stage are in tears, clutching onto each other for support. Chan tries to speak, but no words come out. He steps forward, wiping his face, and finally manages to say, “Thank you, y/n. We love you.”

The concert ends not with an encore, not with cheers, but with the weight of your goodbye hanging in the air. STAYs leave the arena with heavy hearts, each one carrying a piece of you with them, your voice still echoing in their minds, the final notes of Castle on the Hill playing over and over.

You never made it back. But in that final moment, you felt at home.

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × oc, Rick Grimes × sister

Warnings: Swearing, mention of past assault

Chapter: 4.03

You rock back and forth on the floor in a daze, unable to tear your eyes away from the blood beneath your broken fingernails. You wince when the sound of gunfire pierces the air, followed by a thud, and then a few seconds later it happens again.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you listen to what sounds like something heavy being moved, scraping the wooden floorboards.

As you try to process what just happened, you hear Rick’s voice through Shane's radio. You were unsure how much time has passed, but Rick was asking Shane to respond and for his location repeatedly.

This can't be real.

Hearing footsteps approaching your breathing becomes more difficult. Shane kneels down in front of you, and when he attempts to wipe blood from your cheek, you flinch. “Oh baby, what can I do? What can I do?”

“I just want it to stop.”

When you start sobbing uncontrollably, Shane pulls you in for a hug, your face buried in his chest. “You’re safe,” he mumbles. “I promise I’ll never let anyone hurt you, never again.”

As you toss and turn in your sleep, your stomach churns uncomfortably. The smell of death seeps into the cell, making the wave of nausea worse. You try to ignore it, but eventually you can't hold it in any longer.

You start to gag, and you’re suddenly rolled onto your side, and someone quickly moves to find you a bucket or something to puke into. You retch for a few agonizing moments, but nothing happens, aside from sweat dripping.

Everything is strange. Someone brushes hair out of your face and dabs at your forehead with a damp cloth. But when you open your eyes, your reality and past start to merge.

You’re no longer in the prison; you’re back in that goddamn apartment.

“Shane… get him off of me.”

—

The room spins around you as you try to sit up, your body weak from being ill. You groan, clutching at your throat as a coughing fit overtakes you. Glenn, whose sitting on the floor stirs from his sleep on the other side of the cell.

Glenn stretches his arms and gives you a pained smile, “glad to see you no longer resemble a walker.”

You go to laugh but end up coughing. When you’ve stopped, Glenn helps you sit upright, and you see how poorly he looks. He was sweating profusely. You go to ask how he is, then it suddenly hits you. Jace isn’t here. “Where’s Jace?”

Glenn brings a cloth to his mouth and coughs into it. “He’s fine. Beth’s been looking after him and Judith.”

“Who else is sick, aside from us?”

You try to get out of bed, but Glenn keeps you back. “Hey, hey, easy. You’ve been out for days.”

Ignoring him, you swing your legs out of the bed and put your head between your thighs. “Carl, Daryl, Rick, Maggie...”

The list was endless.

“A few people who stayed in this block have died. Hershel made tea with the elderberries he and Carl collected, and that’s helped a lot of people. There was a supply run to get antibiotics, but they only managed to get a handful.”

“What else has been going on? Anything about that bastard Philip?”

Glenn shakes his head.

Dealing with walkers was one thing, but knowing the governor was still out there makes everything feel more dark and ominous, like something more dangerous than the dead lurking around each corner.

“I-listen,” Glenn lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know exactly what's going on with you and Daryl, but I know something changed after Woodbury. He cares about you.”

“I care about him.”

“I know,” Glenn nods his head, agreeing with you, but his tone would suggest otherwise. “I’m only saying this so you're aware; I don’t want to be involved—”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, just say it.”

“Daryl came to see you, and you called out for Shane.”

Your stomach drops.

“Nobody else was supposed to be in this block, but when Daryl heard you’d become unconscious, nobody could stop him. He said if we didn’t let him in, he’d find a way to break the door.” Glenn lets out a small laugh. “Of course we knew he would, so we let him in, and when we reached the cell, you were covered in vomit and had blood coming from your nose. Hershel didn’t know if you’d make it.”

“Oh my god,” tears threaten to spill, but you manage to hold them back. “I don’t have any memory of this.”

“It was touch and go; Hershel had to crush up the antibiotics and put them in water so you could take them. And then about a day later you started to wake up, and Daryl was by your side, and you started calling for Shane, telling him to make whoever was touching you stop. Daryl, he looked crushed and hasn’t come back to see you since then.”

“I need to find him.”

“That won’t be possible.” Hershel steps in front of the cell and slides the door open. “I need to make sure you won’t pass out again before you go anywhere.”

You’re lost in your own thoughts when Glenn gets up and leaves; you don’t even hear what he says to you. Hershel clears his throat loudly, gaining your attention. “It is known that a severe case of the flu results in a disoriented state of mind.”

“I wasn’t here.” You look down at the dirty ground, your heart heavy as you try to hold back the tears that threaten to spill. “I was somewhere else.”

—

By nightfall, you felt stir crazy. Staying away from Jace was hard, but you knew it was only temporary; once the flu had passed, you got to hold him again. And knowing you hurt, Daryl was weighing on you heavily.

You felt defeated.

Before the outbreak, you went to Atlanta to catch up with some old friends, and you desperately missed Shane because you were alone and wanted to feel safe. But with Daryl, it was different; it was small things you missed about him. From the way he hummed while kissing you to the sarcastic manner in which he’d roll his eyes.

You jump slightly when Glenn suddenly appears; he looks sicker than he did before. “Hey, someone wants to talk to you.”

“What?”

“Just go to the visitation room.”

You had no idea what Glenn was talking about, but having nothing better to do, you get up and go.

—

Your nostrils flare as you let out a deep breath, and your fingers shake as you pick up the phone. You try and wipe the thick layer of dirt off before bringing it to your ear. There was a glass panel separating you from your brother, meaning you could speak to him without making him sick.

“You look like hell.”

Rick chuckles; his hair was wild and untamed, and dark circles hung heavy beneath his eyes. His skin is paler than normal because of how tired he is. “I’ve not seen you look this bad since the first time you tried alcohol.”

A heaviness lingers over you both.

Rick’s voice cracks, “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“But I’m still here.”

He swallows thickly, tears glistening in his eyes. “Hershel told me you've been calling out in your sleep. He thinks you're hallucinating, but you’re not, are you?”

“What the governor did put my back in that place. Back in that apartment.” Almost in a whisper, you say, “I should never have let them in.”

“What Rivers and Young did wasn’t your fault.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I need to explain-”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong.”

Rage flickers inside you as you try and explain three more times, and each time Rick cuts you off. What happened that night was a sensitive subject for both of you, but certain things needed to be said.

“Just stop!” You smack your hand on the ledge in front of the glass, startling him. “You need to let me talk about it, Rick. What happened to me wasn’t my fault, but everything that happened after was.”

He tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I knew Shane was lying about Randall.”

“We both did.”

“I—” you cut yourself off trying to think; you’re unsure as to what to say next. “I think Shane was right when he said I’m just as fucked up as him. That’s not the first time I’ve seen him do something bad and not say anything.”

“Lil,” Rick’s voice is softer than before. “When was the first time?”

“That night…I just went along with everything Shane said, even though I knew he was lying.” You lean back in the chair. “The cops who attacked me didn’t have his gun on him when Shane killed him, but when he said they tried to shoot first, I didn’t say anything.”

Rick rests his head in his hands. “You were in shock.”

“But if I had said something, then maybe Shane wouldn’t have become so good at lying, and things would have been different at the farm. He wouldn’t have killed Otis or tried to kill you.”

Rick puts his hand on the glass. “I need you to hear when I say this. What happened that night wasn’t your fault. What the governor did wasn’t your fault, and anything Shane did wasn’t your fault. You were a victim—”

“Please, don’t call me that,” you squeeze your eyes shut. “I hate being called that.”

“Is that what you were seeing when Daryl was there?”

“I thought I’d moved on,” you sob. “But after what happened in Woodbury, it’s been on my mind all the time, and I keep thinking how different things could have been if I’d just done one thing differently.”

“You’re looking for ways to blame yourself.” He sighs, “I know you made me swear to never speak about it with anyone, but have you ever thought of speaking to anyone else? Maggie, Carol, Daryl?”

“I don’t want Daryl to know. I don’t want him to look at me as if I’m broken.” Deep down, you didn't think Daryl would think less of you, but it was much easier saying others would think that than admitting that’s how you felt yourself. “I care about him a lot, more than I ever thought I would, and I know Daryl would never hurt me, but when I felt someone's hands on my hair, I could see Shane bursting through the door while that asshole was dragging me by the hair.”

“If you don’t want to tell Daryl everything, at least tell him how you feel. Once you’re out of prison anyway.”

You laugh at the last part and wipe tears from your cheek. “How bad is the walker piling up at the fences?”

Unbeknownst to yourself and Rick, Daryl had just heard everything you said before changing the conversation.

[moominpopzz]

Thinking about Dakota’s need to help everyone, thinking about Ashe needing help getting used to her body again

[theghostofwilburtheworm]

owww mob psycho 100 is so good!!!!1

[delicatetaysversion]

bestie is coming home on 1st im having thoughts

[flamingthespian]

I’m playing the newest archon quest and uh.

Guys I’m going fucking crazy. I literally can’t stop crying and I’m just so. I have to stop playing rn cause I have stuff to do but. This is such a mindfuck. What the FUCK is happening. I have so many questions and emotions.

[greenpixiedust]

you know when you're that kind of sad where you're not sure if it's grief, burnout, depression, or just your hormones fucking with you?

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫��𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[kxsalt]

cw abuse

Mom’s ex-boyfriend always checked in on her. The girl couldn’t handle being alone for long, so he would come by often to keep her company. Her mom considered it a kind favour – she worried about her little girl whenever she travelled for work. Their breakup had just made her separation anxiety worse. He was the closest thing to a father figure in her life, something she desperately needed.

The girl flinches when he touches her. Lying in her bed, his hand in her panties, she stuffs her face into the blanket and tries not to cry. “…stop…” A finger slips into her cunt. “ah! stop! i’m still sore from last time!” The paternal figure ignores her. Pulling up her shirt, her nipples are pinched and squeezed. A second finger works into her pussy as she starts to sob.

“Don’t be a baby, you’re all grown up now, act like it.” The man scolds the crying girl. She doesn’t feel grown up. Even though she had graduated over a year ago, her anxieties had kept her from pursuing a job or higher education. Most of her friends had stopped calling. He was her only regular visitor. “i can’t… tonight… stop…” Her mom’s ex-boyfriend strips her naked.

Thrusting his cock into the young girl’s pussy, he lets out a deep groan. She yelps and tries to push away, held in place by a harsh grip on her arm. The older man’s fingers cut into her already-bruised bicep. “owww! nuh- too much…” His hand moves to the back of her head, pushing her face deeper into the pillows. He admires the marks on her arms and body.

“Remember to wear long sleeves when your mom gets home.” The girl doesn’t respond. A muffled sob wafts out of the fabric, followed by a shriek when he smacks her clit. “Did you hear me?” She gasps, feeling every bit of his cock pounding into her. “yes i did! please don’t hit me there…” Another smack on her pussy. “What did I tell you to do?”

“Wear long sleeves so mom doesn’t see my bruises.” He pulls on her hair, looking into her tear-stained face. “Why is that so important?” She winces as he shoves his cock all the way inside her. “…cause mom won’t let you come around if she finds out.” More tears roll down her cheeks as he has rough sex with her innocent body. “And you don’t want that, do you?” Crying from pain and fear, he kisses her. “…no…” The girl finds comfort in their tongues touching.

“Good girl. Keep doing as you’re told and I’ll stick around.” The thought of him leaving makes her nauseous. “don’t go. don’t go. i’m trying-” She cuts herself off with another painful whimper. The man fucks her as hard as he can. He holds her arms behind her back and wrenches her legs open. Spread wide, she feels him push deeper with each thrust.

“stop stop stop stop it hurts!” He goes faster. “Shut up.” The girl breaks and cries uncontrollably. “I said shut up.” Annoyed by her disobedience, he drags her to the edge of the bed. Sniffling, she hides her face behind her hands. “Done crying?” His cock smacks against her clit. “Ask for more.” Stammering, the girl can’t speak. “You were so chatty a minute ago. Beg for more or I’ll leave you here.”

Her mom’s ex-boyfriend offers a reward. “Do it and I’ll let you call me dad.” Red eyes peer through her fingers. Her lips move silently. “Speak up.” Grabbing her wrists, he pulls them away from her face.

“abuse my pussy, daddy.” His thick cock stretches out her drippy hole. The girl winces. “please, daddy, abuse your little girl’s pussy.” The man puts all his weight into her, driving deep into her cunt. She cries and begs. “abuse my pussy – just don’t leave…” His cum fills her. Sobbing and flinching with each thrust, the girl presses her face into his chest. “…just don’t leave…”

[twizzie-lairs]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

[ravenslvt]

can’t stop thinking about boss! leon kennedy who is just obsessed with how your pussy feels around him :(((((

how he’d tease you oh so much while bending you over his desk during your break. lifting up your cute little pencil skirt and fucking you like he hated you.

he leans forward, thrusting into you at a bruising pace, his hot breath against your ear as he whispered, "you like that, baby? you like being fucked on my desk like the dirty little whore you are?" he’d practically laugh as you whine against him.

he’d hold your writhing hips still as he pounds into you, ignoring your moans. you could feel his cock practically throb inside of you as you sqeeze him tight.

his desk would creak as his hips moved against your own. his pace quickens, his grip on your hips tightens, leaving a bruising, but pleasureable pain.

“f-fuck leon!” you’d whine into the air. he just chuckles, his thrusts slowing, but going deeper than you thought was possible.

“such a needy little slut” he’d whisper in your ear.

if anyone were to walk by his office, you were sure they’d hear your moans and pleas, along with the sound of skin slapping together loudly.

but boss! leon kennedy didn’t care. he was basically pussy drunk off the sounds you were making, along with how well you take him.

when he knew you were about to cum, he’d lean into your ear.

“you feel so fucking perfect around me. it’s like you were fucking made for me.” his breathing would start to get a little heavier, thrusts more powerful and sloppy.

“please, leon!” you’d beg, gripping the edge of his polished wooden desk.

“please what, baby? you gonna cum all over my cock for me?” he’d tease, kissing then biting your neck, making you almost scream.

“c’mon, cum for me, baby, i know you want to.” god the sound of his voice alone almost made you cum instantly. your eyes screw shut as you whine mixes of curses and his name over and over like a prayer, so close to completion.

“that’s it, pretty. gonna let me finish inside you? walk around the office all day with my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy like the fucking whore you are?” his thrusts were uncontrollable now. your forehead leaned against the hard desk.

“yes yes please, leon, fuck!” is all you can say before he covers your mouth (he knows if he didn’t you’d let the entire office know what was going on, if they didn’t know already). you came with a sob, squeezing his cock so tight he hissed as his free hand gripped your waist. he shot his hot seed inside of you and rode out a few more thrusts before slowing down and stopping.

both of you are panting and sweating, you whine in overstimulation of his cock still inside of you. he was still half hard.

“one more time?” this was the third time he’s said this.

masterlist

a/n hehe send requests pls </33

[f1angelz]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 — lewis hamilton x f!reader

summary: Y/N has developed a habit of crying every night due to her emotional distress. Lewis finds out about her little secret after one night of hearing her sobs. Inspired by the song “When She Cries” by Restless Heart.

content warnings: none, just kinda sad!

i wrote this when i felt super down one night 🥲 i was overthinking abt my future, and the song that inspired this fic is so close to my heart. i hope you guys like this !!

── .✦

The past few months have been hard.

Y/N didn’t really feel like herself— at all. No matter how hard she tried to, it just wasn’t happening. Her fears were constantly eating her thoughts, creating an emotional mess that she didn’t know was possible.

Everyday she would wake up in the morning and try her best to repress her thoughts with a splash of cold water on her face, and a morning kiss or text from her boyfriend, Lewis.

God knew how much she wanted to open up to Lewis, but she couldn’t— too afraid to show her vulnerable side. Especially with Lewis being busy with races and all, she didn’t want him to be burdened with her emotional and mental problems.

So she hid it.

And when all the world is sleeping, she remains awake with tears flowing from her eyes and muffled sobs on the living room couch.

It was a frequent occurrence, even when Lewis was home for the off-season.

Once she feels like Lewis has drifted off to sleep, she’d sneak out of bed and place a pillow in replacement for her presence and leaves the bedroom quietly.

As soon as she shuts the door, her eyes start to sting and well up with tears— becoming uncontrollable for the next few moments.

There she sits on the couch with a dimly lit lamp, staring blankly at the balcony view of the night sky. With each tear and sob she let out, it was a temporary solution for the pain her thoughts were causing her.

After a few hours, she’d crawl back into bed and wake up the next morning like nothing happened. Yet a part of her thoughts still remain, ready to be cried out when the night comes.

She hoped that Lewis wouldn’t find out about her. Her vulnerability.

But of course, Lewis wasn’t dumb.

When she cries, a part of him shatters completely. It made him question himself as a partner— did he do something wrong? Was he treating her right?

It was only a matter of weeks, even days for Lewis to find out. As much as Lewis wanted to help, he didn’t want to scare her away. That was the last thing he’d want to happen.

Instead, he says a little prayer on behalf of her— that her pain goes away and she may finally find whatever she needed to keep her mind and heart at ease. But as each passing night comes by, her sobs grow louder and the pain in his chest was slowly becoming unbearable.

There was one night where he really, really couldn’t take the pain of hearing her sobs. It shattered him to the core.

So he peels himself out of the sheets and leaves bed, ignoring whatever time it probably was.

He quietly opens the door and sees her on the couch, curled up with a pillow on her chest.

Y/N is quick to wipe her tears away and plaster a smile on her face, trying her best to conceal the pain.

“O-Oh! Hey, I’m sorry I left bed, I just went out to drink a glass of water in the kitchen, then I decided to stay out here for a while.” She said in between sniffles, voice hoarse, ever so obvious that she just cried.

Lewis sighs, looking at her with sympathy. He walks towards the couch and sits beside her, taking a good look.

Though the lamp was dim, he could clearly see her swollen eyes— evident that she had been crying for hours.

Y/N knew that he wouldn’t believe her very smart lie, her face gave it all away.

Without saying anything, Lewis takes her into his arms.

She felt her eyes stinging, blurring her vision as tears formed once more.

“Please tell me what’s going on, my love. It pains me to hear your cry every night..”

Y/N’s tears fall down even more, now unable to hide her vulnerability.

She sobs and Lewis holds her even tighter, stroking her arm to calm her down.

“It’s okay, let it all out. Talk to me when you’re ready.” He rests his chin on her head while his heart still aches from the oblivion of her tears.

She didn’t know what to do at that moment. Obviously, there was no point in lying about her state anymore, it would just add fuel to fire. She felt trapped, knowing that she’d have to tell Lewis about her little secret for the past few months.

But how?

Her emotions were all over the place. Words were stuck in her throat like a clogged pipe, unable to make its way out no matter how hard she tried.

“L-lew..” She manages to say in a small voice, her chest heaving up and down to catch her breath. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and fidgeting fingers, “Yes, my love?” His gaze softens, hand over hers to ease her trembling.

“It’s so h-hard..”

Lewis places a kiss on her forehead, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Take your time.”

She nods, still trembling.

“Whatever it is you’re going through now, I’m here. I know it hurts, love. I hear you every night trying to keep your sobs down, but your pain is evident. If you’ll let me, I’ll ease it for you.”

“B-but I don— hick— ‘n wanna be a burden.. You’re s-so— hick— b-busy with racing, m-my— hick— p-problems shouldn’t be y-yours..”

“Oh, my love, you will never be a burden for me.. We’re a team, remember? When one is down, the other one helps them get back on their feet— and I’m the one who’s doing that now.” Lewis places a hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I’m always here no matter what. No rush, okay? Whenever you’re ready, my love.”

He gives a reassuring smile, kissing her forehead once more.

Her heart feels a little bit lighter with Lewis’ words, tears have stopped falling yet her breath was still recovering.

They fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s embrace.

Ever since then, not a single tear was shed at night.

── .✦

[anni1309-blog]

please more step brother smut with felix. it was amazing !:)

that’s so kind of you to say, thank you <3

here you go 🎀

felix catton! stepbrother x reader

warnings: smut, face-fucking, slight size kink, semi public

summary : felix is stressed out during exam season and needs relief

felix and you were like royalty at oxford. it’s not like felix’s family lineage isn’t royal anyways. they were always surrounded by a small crowd. some might even call them admirers. it wasn’t hard to love them, always kind and friendly, charming everyone with their beautiful looks.

when someone was looking for felix, you weren’t far either. this was felix’s way to protect and show his love for you. you two weren’t siblings by blood, but that didn’t stop felix from taking care of his baby sister.

sometimes gossip was heard about your close proximity to felix. you would admit that your relationship is definitely closer than most normal stepsiblings might be but your love fell so deep for each other you wouldn’t have it any other way.

lately though, felix grew a little more distant. you knew that the exams were getting to him, he was always so determined. you would only see him when at night he would sneak you into his dorm, pulling a blanket over you while holding you close and softly stroking your hair while you would cling onto him placing your head on his chest. you missed him, more than you would admit. his heart broke knowing he had less time for you, he yearned for your touch, your giggle and your adorable smile when you sat in his lap during break. but he couldn’t have any distractions from studying.

when you woke up the bed was empty. this was your breaking point. felix would normally wake you up to give you a little kiss goodbye or at least leave a note. there was none of this today. you bursted out in tears and started sobbing uncontrollably. when you calmed down a bit, you got ready to face felix to pour out your heart. putting on makeup was no use to your red and puffy eyes from crying.

you made your way to the library, which was almost empty since it was still very early in the morning. you found felix sitting in the back, surrounded by books writing down notes.

he looked up “good morning baby, did you have a good-“ he stopped, his initial reaction was that he was happy to see you but his eyebrows furrowed when he saw your distressed expression. he knew he had to make time for you now, so he wordlessly scooted his chair back and opened his arms for you to sit on his lap. you took a seat there and clung to him tightly, which he returned.

“lix, you were gone this morning, and I was all alone, I don’t even see you that often anymore, I- I just miss you so much” you sniff slightly as big tears fall from your eyes.

“shhhh, I know sweetheart, I hate it too, but you know how it is, I’m just very stressed right now” he pulls you close rubbing you back softly cooing quietly for you to calm down a bit, takes your face in his hands as he wipes away your tears with his thumb. he hates seeing his girl like this, it upset him deeply.

felix took your chin between his fingers to tilt you head upwards to slowly capture your lips. this wasn’t new to you two, he kissed you often, also in public, he knew it made you feel safe.

“lix? would it be okay for me to try something to relieve your stress a bit?” your big eyes looked up at him with a small smile as you relaxed a bit.

“sure princess, I’d love that but what do you want t-“ his words got stuck in his throat when you slowly dropped to your knees, already trying to fumble at his belt, opening it.

felix was almost shocked at your plan but obviously wasn’t appalled by your idea. none of you cared that you were in public, people wouldn’t come by until later in the day. your nimble fingers pulled the zipper of his pants down slowly, your lips parting and mouth salivating in anticipation.

he caressed your cheek with his thumb looking down at you with soft but hungry eyes, signaling that you could do whatever you felt comfortable with. as you continue undressing his pants his fingers were back at your face, his thumb brushing over your wet bottom lip and pushed his digit past your lips and into your mouth, and you sucked greedily.

you slowly pulled his already hardening cock from his underwear, giving his tip soft kitten licks to which he threw back his head in pleasure, brushing your hair, slightly buckling his hips towards your mouth

“you can use my mouth lix, I can handle it, I promise” lapping at his slit and batting your eyelashes up at him innocently.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, doll” he groans at your invitation and didn't waste a second to shove his cock into your mouth, pushing your head down his impressive length.

gurgling and gagging you looked up at him for reassurance that your were doing fine, he slowly started moving his hips, fucking your mouth.

“such a good doll, doing so good f’me” he praised in a deep voice. your doe eyes just looked at him, tears escaping them as he kept diving himself into you thrusting in and out of your mouth quickly and desperately as you moaned around him.

he shifted his hips forward so you could take him further down your throat “such a tiny mouth, taking all of me hm?” he grinned proudly his other hand cupping your jaw and holding your mouth open for him as you choked around him, saliva escaping your mouth.

“you can take it, hm? my good little angel” he grunts looking down at your face tears just streaming down your face now. you hummed happily, the vibrations sending a shock through him that made him twitch and ram his hips forward into your mouth harshly.

“gonna come in your mouth okay doll? you’re gonna be a good girl and swallow it all right?” taking out his dick for you to answer and traced your glossy lips with his tip, your tongue darted out to flick over it and relish in his salty taste as you looked up giving him affirmative nods.

his thrusts became more frantic, feeling close, he lets out a long, gutteral moan, holding your head there as he thrust his hips up feeling your nose press against his pelvis, cumming down your throat.

“I know it’s a lot, be strong,” he groaned as he continued to spout cum, it was so much you thought you might bloat but swallowed all as he pulled off, you were coughing at bit.

you looked wrecked but smiled up at him proudly as he leaned down to kiss your lips softly taking your face in his big hands to admire you.

“what would I do without my favorite girl?”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst III

Leah Williamson x Jordan Nobbs x Toddler!Reader

Summary: Stranger danger

You are very little when it happens.

Very little.

You've learnt how to walk now, though Mummy calls it a toddle, so you're free to wander around the pitch.

It's after a Chelsea match that it happens.

You are young and small but Leah has already instilled the love of Arsenal into you and a hatred of Chelsea. She tells you that they're not as bad as Spurs but they're very close.

Mum is very smart so you believe her.

She's talking to some of the England girls who play for Chelsea and Jordan is over with the physios getting a bruise checked out.

You are left to toddle.

It's a late match so you're a little tired but only a little. You've not yet been changed into your pjs but you have your blankie and that's enough for you.

The fans are at the barrier and sometimes Leah brings you over to say hello to them but she's busy and you can walk by yourself now.

So, you toddle over.

That's when it happens.

You're not actually sure what happens and why it's bad but Jordan's the first person to see.

She's noticed your absence, turning to check that you've made it to Leah but you're not there. Her head whips around until she sees the fan leaning over the barrier, reaching to lift you up.

The world happens in slow motion then and she pushes the physios away from her, getting to her feet and sprinting over.

She passes Leah, whose eyes track her before settling on where she's heading.

You're in that person's arms now and Leah starts sprinting too.

Jordan gets there first, pulling you out of the arms quickly and turning away with you. Leah comes up on the rear, sliding into Jordan's place and fisting the shirt of the person.

A crowd forms quickly, a mix of the coaching staff, Arsenal players and the Chelsea team. Millie's the one that's trying to pull Leah back, who looks two seconds away from breaking someone's nose.

Jordan bounces you.

You don't understand what's going on and why it's suddenly so loud and you jolt as vicious words fly over your head and echo across the pitch.

"My blankie!" You say, bursting into uncontrollable tired tears as blankie drops to the ground with a little flutter.

"It's okay," Jordan says as she bounces you, pressing your face into the crook of her neck," It's okay, bug. Mummy's here. Mummy's here. You're safe. It's okay."

"M-My blankie!" You sob, reaching out to where blankie is growing saturated with mud and muck. "Blankie, no!"

"You piece of shit!" Jordan can hear Leah yell," You don't pick up someone's fucking kid! You don't touch fucking touch her!"

"Leah." That's Millie now. "Come on. Let go. The FA will give you a ban."

Leah's still yelling and Jordan knows that one look at you will have her coming straight over. Yet some horrible part of her wants Leah to continue to put the fear of god into the person that tried to take you.

But you're sobbing and whining and your blankie is getting dirty.

You need both your mums.

"Leah!" She calls and Leah falls silent," Bug needs us."

It's all it takes for Leah to join her, weaving through the assembled crowd to pull Jordan and you closer to her.

"Is she okay?" Leah asks, voice trembling.

"Her blanket," Jordan says plainly and Leah ducks down to grab it," She's tired. I don't think she understands what happened."

You reach out for your blankie but it's dirty so Leah doesn't let you take it.

"Let's get her inside. It's nearly bedtime."

The locker room is silent with everyone else still out on the field and it's with great efficiency that Jordan changes you out of your kit into your pjs and Leah gets the worst of the muck off your blanket.

"Hey," One of the female physios pops her head through the door," Do you want me to check her out?"

Worry courses through Leah as she nods. Images of bruises and cuts flash in her mind even though you have none. It would have been easy, she thinks, for that person to have just kidnapped you like that. It would have been so simple and so easy.

You're still little and you're almost too sociable. You think everyone is a friend, no matter what.

You're no idea what could have happened and that terrifies Leah.

"You look good, bug," The physio says to you and it's like a weight has been lifted off both Leah and Jordan's chests," She's fine. Nothing wrong."

You yawn, the excitement of the day finally catching up to you.

You fall asleep curled up in Jordan's arms and both of your mothers just sit there staring at you.

"That person's been banned," Katie says in greeting as she comes in," And I think they're mentally scarred."

"Good," Leah mutters.

"How's Bug?" Kim asks.

"Sleeping," Jordan answers," She's fine. Good. No bruises. No cuts. No broken bones."

"And you both?"

Neither of them answer and that's answer enough.

"It'll be okay. Go home," Kim says," Buy something greasy tonight. Put your feet up. Go and sleep with your kid."

Leah gives Kim a watery smile. "We will."

[moremaybank]

SQUIRTING — j.m

pairing jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), squirting (duh), overstimulation, language/dirty talk

kinktober masterlist ;; jj masterlist

⋆༺♱༻⋆

“Fuck! Yes, J, don’t stop. ‘M gonna—”

Your words were halted when your orgasm slammed into you. Your release rushed out, juices coating the entirety of JJ’s pelvis. He was almost grinning, elated that he’d gotten you to squirt. His hips didn’t falter, and he only fucked you harder while thumbing at your puffy clit. The smack of his balls against your ass was delicious as he pounded into you and overwhelmed your weeping cunt. 

“J, enough. I need to b-breathe.” Your hand splayed across his abs as you tried to stop him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist and removed it from his torso. 

“We’re not stopping, princess. Lie back and take it.” He pulled out of you, gripping his cock and flicking the head up and down on your clit with vigorous movements. You squealed, feeling your legs start to shake from the stimulation. You felt the coil burning deep in your stomach already, and due to your earlier release, JJ pulled this next one from you with little time and effort. Your juices poured out of you, again and again, so much that you couldn’t believe you were holding all of it inside you. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Look at that, mama. Guess you could take it after all.” 

The smirk on his lips never left as he sank to his knees and pushed his fingers inside of you. The cool metal of his rings pressed against your swollen lips, making goosebumps prick up instantly on your skin. Your hips fussed, writhing around as they tried to escape him, but JJ planted a large palm on your pelvis, keeping you pressed to the mattress. “Stay still. We’re not finished until I say we’re finished.” 

JJ’s pink lips circled your clit, sucking harshly as his fingers punted at that enchanting spot inside you. Your gummy walls quivered against his touch, the heat of your flesh resembling a fire thanks to his magical actions. Cum gushed out of your entrance, soon followed by more of your overflowing juices. 

“J-J, please. I’m tired, can’t give you any more,” you whimpered. Salty tears ran down your cheeks as you mustered up all your remaining energy to lean up onto your elbows. You pouted up at him pathetically, eyes begging for him to take it easy on you and give you a much-needed break. 

His mouth abandoned your bud. “Don’t say that, baby. You can. Know you can. Give it to me, want it all.” 

His fingers didn’t stop from curling up at your g-spot, and he watched you fall back onto the mattress as you cried. Your legs wobbled, losing their strength to remain upright. They closed off to him somewhat, so his hand hooked under the back of your knee and he opened you back up. 

“C’mon. Spray my face, princess. Don’t you wanna taste yourself on me?” His question made your brain fuzzy and more far gone than it already was. The thought of licking up your release from his lips was enough of an incentive to stop fighting, stop resisting. You nodded, still crying as you opened your legs for him further. 

“There we go,” he grinned. “That’s my good girl.” 

He quickened his thick fingers, and his lips wrapped around your clit once more. He sucked and flicked at it with his tongue relentlessly, all while keeping up his efforts on your sweet spot. Your hands wandered, gripping at everything that surrounded you before finding home in JJ’s unruly locks. 

“G-Gonna cum, J,” you warned, your fingers gripping and yanking on his strands. He didn’t answer, but instead, he hummed into you, sending vibrations through your core and up your spine. All he could hear was a loud sob, followed by the sound of you gasping loudly. His eyes flit up to yours, watching them roll back as your thighs squeezed his head. You rolled your hips uncontrollably against his mouth and fingers, squirting again for him. JJ drank it up, your juices coating his tongue. 

“Okay. Okay. No more, J, I—”

Your words died on your tongue when JJ rose from between your legs, his free hand cupping your jaw. His fingers pressed into your cheeks, summoning your lips to part for him. He spat what was left of your juices into your mouth, watching your tongue eagerly dart out past your lips to lick it all up. You whined as JJ’s fingers continued to rut into you, though his pace had slowed. 

“Taste good, don’t you, mama?” 

You nodded, one hand gripping his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. Your tongues danced as you strived to taste more of yourself in his mouth. “So good,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Good enough to go again?” 

You almost glared at him. “I would slap you right now if what you did didn’t feel so amazing.” 

“Joke’s on you. I’d like it.” 

⋆༺♱༻⋆

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