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klausysworld · 3 months

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Hi could you write some angst about a deeply insecure reader who hates her appearance and is sort of friends with Elena and everyone(pushed to the side kind of relationship)but when klaus comes around it’s clear that she has a crush but believes he’s out of her league then klaus uses it to his advantage by showing an interest in her for information and helps her with her self worth.klaus then starts to develop feelings for her but then it’s revealed that he was just manipulating her and reader is devastated and utterly humiliated and it sets her back to how she was before him.(sorry if that was a really long explanation,you can decide the ending)thanks I love your writing btw

Real

Growing up in Mystic Falls is a bizarre experience.

There were town events almost every month where you had to dress up and act better than everyone, parents basically had a competition over who had the prettiest daughters or the most handsome sons.

Not my parents.

They didn't think I was good enough to even pretend that I could compete. I was told my worth from a young age and became more aware of it with time. When your own parents don't think you're good enough it's sort of an eye-opener if you will.

It didn't help that everyone in this town seemed to be born into modelling.

Somehow I was lucky enough to wind up 'friends' with people like Elena, Caroline and Bonnie but I knew I didn't belong with them. Somehow they were gorgeous enough to get whatever they wanted.

Sometimes I wondered if everyone else at the age of 17 looked like them and I was behind or if somewhere, I was above average. I doubted it. A lot.

Occasionally I would look at a mirror and think that I wasn't even that bad to look at. There was nothing particularly ugly about me, there just wasn't anything special. I looked plain in a way, bland and forgettable.

I was very forgettable actually. My 'friends' made that abundantly clear throughout the years when they would go out without me or forget to ask if I also wanted something or liked something.

Somehow I was of no value to them. Perhaps I was simply there to amplify their beauty. Like a DUFF. I was definitely the DUFF.

Damon actually told me that I was once, after Tyler had made the joke and Damon asked what it meant. Even though I already knew it to be true, to be told it was much worse.

You could sort of tell everyone else was thinking it, especially when I was stood beside Caroline.

Stefan was the only one who was nice but I wasn't sure if it was out of pity or just because that was who he was. Then again, I'd rather just not know.

So I tried my best to keep in the background, avoid attention and stay out the way.

Even with all the vampire and werewolf drama that took course, I kept myself quiet and to the side. Strangely it was Katherine who was kind to me, whether she had an ulterior motif I'm not so sure anymore but she never hurt me in the time she was there. Neither did Elijah when he came to town, he was polite to everyone but it was obvious that my presence was irrelevant to him.

And then of course, Klaus arrived.

I didn't officially meet him until the senior prank night, he sort of just threw to the side and told me to keep my mouth closed and not to bother running because he'd just kill me. Part of me thought about running anyway so he would just end it but I didn't.

Klaus dragged me by my wrist into his car, told me to keep quiet while he drove Elena to the hospital. For whatever reason he brought me along and left me in the car as he went to drain her of blood for his hybrids. I did as told: sat silently and waited.

He came back out and spoke to Damon for a moment, I saw them glance over in my direction only for Damon to laugh and smirk. I sighed to myself and got out the car. It was clear that Klaus thought I could be a good pawn but was surly mistaken and Damon told him to do whatever he wanted to me. In response I walked home, neither noticed so it was fine.

A week or so later he came back, crashed homecoming or something? I dunno, I wasn't there but I was told about it the next day via a stroppy Caroline.

It was that same day that he came and sat beside me at the grill. I ignored him for the most part, confused by his attempt at what I could only guess was flirting? I wasn't really sure. I think he could tell.

"Not easily impressed are you love?" he questioned as he leant forward, uncomfortably close. I sort of just looked at him, still unsure to what he wanted. A smirk pulled at the end of his lips and his hand lifted, his fingers wrapping around a piece of my hair making frown and pull away abruptly. Without hesitation I stood up and spun on my heel, going to leave. His laugh followed me and a hand grabbed my waits, it was stange.

"Calm down love, It's not like I was going to rip it out, I just wondered what it felt like" he chuckled, pulling my back flush against his front making me tense and squirm.

"It feels like hair" I stated simply "Now get off" I grunted, shoving my elbow into his side to make him let go. I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground.

The next time I saw him he apologised for the previous encounter which again, i didn't understand but there was no point in questioning and arguing so I just accepted it and tried to leave but he asked if I'd stay for one drink, he asked so nicely and he smiled. I was stupid enough to think it was genuine and accepted.

Looking back it was pretty obvious that this was a game for him or a trap, whatever you want to label it but in the moment I ignored what was right in my face. Deep down I knew it was all a joke of sorts really.

But no boy, let alone a man had shown me this sort of attention and the soft fluttering it made me feel had me staying for far too long. I listened to his little stories and asked a range of questions as the drinks kept coming. He asked a couple about me but i gave relatively vague answers. There wasn't much I had to give him on me, I wasn't up for a pity party about friends and I didn't really fancy talking about my shitty parents either. I think Klaus picked up on the fact that I didn't really want to talk about me and eventually gave up with it.

It was late when I realised I needed to get home and he offered to take me which I admit made me wary. I didn't want him to kidnap me and think I'd be any good as leverage again, though I guess Damon made that pretty clear already. I decided to just walk home which he eventually accepted and got into his car.

Walking by myself probably wasn't my best option after drinking so much in one go but I made it home with minimal stumbling. My mother shook her head when she saw me and asked what was wrong with me. When she realised I had been drinking her mind jumped to two very different conclusions. The first being that I was being a slut which was ironic as in the past she'd made it clear that no guy would want to sleep with me, and the second being that I had taken pills to kill myself.

Listening to her drastic thinking made me wonder what kind of pills she was on but I didn't question it and waited for my father to come and take her to bed, telling her to just ignore me. Then I proceeded to make my way to the bathroom, getting changed and washing my face before going to my bed.

My phone dinged making me sigh, thinking it was Elena asking me to help her with something dumb and life threatening however much to my surprise it was Klaus. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and we messaged back and forth before he told me to rest.

The following few days he would just check in. Not too much but he also made it clear that he hadn't forgotten me which was all I had ever truly wanted from someone. To be acknowledged at the very least.

Of course I didn't tell the others that he had been talking to me, besides they didn't ask so I didn't see why I should. I guess I just wanted something for myself.

I wasn't completely stupid. I always had the feeling that he was using me, especially towards the start...but he was just so wonderful with his words and his ways.

When he began to make and buy sweet gifts and claim they were tokens of his affection, I couldn't help the blush on my face. When he would find a way to have his skin against mine, or how he would pick up my hand and gently tug my along. Somehow we always seemed to end up somewhere for food, and he would always refuse to let me pay.

Something about him was so enticing, addictive if you will.

He began to make me feel a certain way. He made me warm and happy. His touch was so soft, it made me feel like I was buzzing. i was stupid for thinking he could feel the same way about me.

I had been so scared to admit my feelings.

He had assured me that he would never push me to.

He told me that he liked me, that he didn't want me to be frightened of him or nervous around him. "Not unless it's the sort of nervous that puts butterflies in your stomach sweetheart" he had teased and my cheeks had glowed red.

Over the space of months his presence never lessoned. He always made time to see me, and speak with me. I found myself longing for his voice, his touch.

On days where he was too busy at home, he would urge me to come over. I would spend as long as I possibly could with him, a few times I even stayed over but he had slept on top of the duvet so that I would feel comfortable.

This had gone on for a small while until he actually said the words 'I love you'.

Perhaps I was just so happy to actually hear those words. Maybe I believed them to be true, real. Or I just saw what I wanted to see, heard what I wanted to hear and ignored the rest.

The time I gave myself to him used to make my smile and blush. Now it just makes me feel dirty, humiliated and embarrassed.

Knowing that he could and has had his hands all over my body, his lips and eyes. In the moment I felt like a goddess, probably because that’s what he told me I was. The memory of him inside me haunts me. I had thought it to be such a beautiful experience, romantic and personal.

I wish I could say that I had slept with him only once but as the months went by we would share intimacy often.

I had even told him that I loved him, so many times and I meant it for all of them.

So you should understand why it was so hard to accidentally hear him tell his sister that he had been compelling me for any information on the others.

It had felt as though my heart had stopped when the words hit my ears and tears already made my eyes burn. I heard a weak laugh and turned my head to see Damon, strung up by chains whilst bleeding all over, looking straight back at me.

“Y/n…” I heard Klaus’s voice, his tone one of panic or maybe it was just surprise. He probably didn’t want me to know of his routine. Damon only rolled his eyes and gave me look,

“You didn’t…think it was real, right?” He coughed, a cruel smile on his face.

His words just made me quieter. They made me think. Why did I think it was real?

My eyes slowly lifted to meet Klaus’s. I could see and feel Rebekah looking at me, everyone was silent. Even Damon shut up for a second. I think maybe he was expecting me to say something but I didn’t really have anything to tell him.

As awful as it all made me feel, and even with the amount of emotions swallowing me, I felt more disappointed in myself than I did him.

My right hand went to my left arm, pinching my skin through my jumper in some sort of hope that I’d wake up from some stupid nightmare but it didn’t work.

The first tear fell from my eye and I sniffed to keep the other ones from coming.

Klaus just looked at me, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, I didn’t want to know either. I could just guess anyway.

So without a word I just turned around and left, walking quickly back out the door before breaking into a sprint in the direction of my house. I could feel the mascara running down my face, ruining the foundation I had only recently started wearing, for Klaus’s benefit.

My hands wiped at the tears as I pushed my from door shut behind me and went upstairs, blocking out the annoyed voices of my parents and locking myself in my room.

It was only once I was in the shower that I was flooded with memories. That I remembered all the things I had done with him. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom my skin was scrubbed raw in an attempt to wash his touch away. Even the slightest touch made me feel as though my body was burning, stinging with pain but I would have rather felt that every day than have to realise Klaus had been using me for over a year now.

I was curled in my bed, hidden under the blankets and surrounded by the dark as I let every comment not matter how small or petty play back through my mind.

I wasn’t even sure who to be upset with. I chose myself.

Klaus must’ve known I was an easy target. Desperate. I wonder how much he’s had me tell him. To be fair I knew more than you’d expect about what was going on. I had gotten good at observing and overhearing so I still knew what was going on, even when spending so much time with Klaus himself.

I also wondered what else he had compelled me to do. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything other than ask questions but I couldn’t help that fear creep inside me. It made me sick to my stomach, and then I wondered if he would just wait to compel me again so that I could continue to be his information feeder.

The idea made my fingers dig into my arm, bruising the skin purple but I wouldn’t stop. I only did so that I could go get some vervain that I kept downstairs in one of the cupboards at the back. I was reaching for the little glass bottle when I heard a door close. I spun around quickly to see Klaus in the doorway of my kitchen. My hand clutched onto the vervain tightly and I noticed his eyes glance at it briefly. His hands went up as if to show no harm but there was no way I would believe that meant a thing.

“Sweetheart- listen to me..” he began and I let out a breathless laugh

“Get out” I whispered making him sigh and frown as though he had the audacity to be upset or annoyed.

“Y/n..”

“No Klaus. I’m fucking serious, get out.” I told him, my eyes watering again. I let out an involuntary whimper when he stepped forward making him stop and stand still.

“I never meant for you to know that” he whispered and I frowned, swiping a tear away.

“Sorry I ruined your plan” I mumble, exhausted.

“No- no I didn’t mean it like that- I meant that-“

“Klaus it’s fine” I murmur, avoiding his eye, “It’s fine, I get it. You needed to know what was happening, you got to be two steps ahead. I’d appreciate if you just found someone else now please”

I could feel his stare on me, it make my skin itch and I just needed him to go. I could feel my hand getting clammy as I held onto the bottle.

“I haven’t compelled you in such a long time” he muttered, as though maybe that made it better. “I used to, but I truly have fallen for you Y/n. I love-“

“Please get out” I cut him off, my spare hand resting on my forehead to cover my eyes.

“I love you”

“No you don’t” I cry, “you wouldn’t do this to someone you love. I know you don’t love me. You never have and you never could. You’re just pretending again so I’ll let you control me, I don’t like it” I whimper, tears streaming again. I could hear him getting closer but I was already against the counter and I couldn’t out run him. There was no point in trying.

“Sweetheart, I’ll never use you again-“ he tried to argue but I couldn’t listen to it.

“I really, really need you to leave. Please Klaus just get out, I can’t stand you” I tell him honestly and for a second as I look up at him, he looks almost sad but I have to assume it’s still apart of his act.

“You- you’re not going to do anything…anything harmful are you? To yourself, I mean.” He asked and I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me. I should never have told him that I’d had those thoughts or feelings once. I shouldn’t have ever said a word to him.

“No…now go away” I whisper, my hands trembling as I stared at the ground, listening to his footsteps eventually get further away.

I knew there was no way I could sleep, he was probably still outside my house. Waiting.

I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for but I could him there.

I had no idea what I was going to do.

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maehemthemisfit · 8 months

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How writers look when putting angst no happy ending, major character death, and hurt no comfort in their WIPs.

#just be brewing up PAIN #you know who you are #angst #light angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #writers #writer #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #genshin angst #jjk angst #writer memes

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mikaaki · 6 months

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✧ ⁠— COLD HEART OF SNEZHNAYA

characters : tartaglia / childe / ajax

warnings : fem ! reader ( she / her pronouns ) , angst ( no comfort ) , childe & reader have a son. childe leaving. ALSO POSSIBLE MAJOR SPOILERS?? mentions of the reader being pregnant & labor. death threats. SIGNORA & SCARAMOUCHE SPOILERS

word count : 1.5k

notes : i am so sorry.

also i haven’t written in months so welcome back me !!🫶 i wrote this in like 30 minute so i am so sorry if it came out choppy

being a harbinger had never been an easy task. surviving the abyss , climbing the ranks of the fatui , and surviving constant attacks from enemies was not a lifestyle for the weak.

it also wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted for his family. he had never planned to fall so in love with you. when he first met you at liyue harbor , it was just a chance encounter. but then he kept seeing you.

over and over and over.

childe figured he may as well get to know you. he had always been a charming man , almost too charming. it always worked out in his favor…

he wondered how long he could keep the balance of his personal relationship with you and his life as a harbinger up for. it had been going so well.

he remembered the day you announced your pregnancy so clearly.

it was a bright sunday morning and the two of you were having breakfast together. it was rare for him to be home on the weekend , but there he was , happily eating a serving of eggs and toast with you.

you had been holding off the announcement for a few weeks. you knew exactly how busy he was. something about seeing him so content with your presence made you spill the beans.

he had never appeared happier. childe made it clear in the past he had always wanted to be a father , but now that it was exactly happening? he couldn’t contain his excitement.

it was hard keep the pregnancy a secret , but it was necessary. the less people that knew , the better. the 11th harbinger having a family wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge. it made everybody involved a major target to his enemies.

one of the hardest days of your lives came a few months later , when you went into labor. childe stood by your side the whole time. he held your hand tight while you struggled with the birth of your son.

love at first sight had always been an odd phenomenon to childe. his son changed all of that. seeing the bright ginger tufts of hair and light blue eyes of his son , he instantly fell in love.

childe was a man who’s life was full of blood and gore , but this child brought out an entirely new side of him. he wanted to change and be a softer , kinder man.

but he couldn’t do that. the fatui would never allow him to do such a thing. he was a weapon , not a father , as much as he wanted to be one. he had a place in the tsaritsa’s chess game. you were nowhere to be found on that board.

it didn’t take long for the first threat towards his family to come in.

childe had never been so antsy in his life. he rushed home as soon as he could , only to find you and your son alive and well. that was the first time he considered leaving.

would it be better if he left? he knew it would hurt you. he knew it would be difficult to care for your son alone. maybe he could transfer money to you so you could have a well - off life.

he couldn’t risk your life by being in it. hate him all you want , but at least you would be alive.

the night he finally decided to leave was the worst night of his life.

his family had received too many threats. too many people knew of you. your small home in liyue harbor was a target of the worst enemies of the fatui.

childe had spoken of moving several times before. after bringing it up for the upteenth time , you finally agreed. it was a small home on the outskirts of the city. it was certainly an upgrade from your prior home , though still small. it was big enough for three , but would be quite roomy for two…

the thought of leaving made him sick. childe would never get to see his son grow. maybe he could come by liyue and see glimpses of him , but he would never be able to be his father.

he felt ill every time he returned home. you’d happily greet him with a kiss , whilst your son laid in his crib , playing with toys or babbling senselessly in an attempt to speak his first word.

sitting in your small home , the moonlight shines brightly through the curtains , resting on childe as he held your son in his arms.

you were sleeping comfortably on your shared bed , blissfully unaware of the mental battle childe was having with himself.

maybe he was being dramatic. he was a harbinger. nobody would truly be dumb enough to go after his family. that’s what he thought…until signora was killed , and only a few months later scaramouche disappeared.

with harbingers beginning to drop like flies , he knew it was only a matter of time until he was targeted , or worse ; his family.

he held his son gently in his arms , taking in every detail of the small boy as if it were the last time he would see him…

because it would be.

he intended to enjoy the last few moments he had with his son. once the boy was asleep , he planned to put him in his crib , kiss your forehead , and never come back.

“i’m sorry,” childe whispered, his voice soft and nearly breaking as he spoke. it was so different compared to his normal boisterous personality.

a sudden stiring from your bed caught his attention. he quickly turned to look at you , his gaze meeting yours as you sat up.

in a tired state , you glanced around looking for your son. your eyes softened as you noticed the small boy in his arms.

“he’s precious, isn’t he?” you whisper , a tired smile pulling at your lips. you were never quiet about how much you loved the small family you built for yourself.

oh how unaware you were…

childe struggled to reply. he felt as if he were going to snap and spill the fact he was planning to leave you and your child behind.

“he is.”

“he looks just like you , you know?” you laugh. you’d made it clear that you were jealous your son took after his father. they were practically twins. it was ‘unfair’ how you carried him around for months only for him to be identical to his father.

childe didn’t respond. he quietly held the baby in his arms , gently rocking him back and forth.

“it’s rather late , ajax.”

childe looked up at you as you stated his real name. somehow , that name made him leaving feel worse.

he loved you. he truly loved you. he loved the family you built together. but he couldn’t stay. he didn’t deserve it. he couldn’t risk either of you to stay and enjoy this.

“i know,”

“i can take him if you -”

“no. he’s almost asleep anyway,”

a silence fell between the two of you as you stared at your son.

to you , it was a comfortable silence. just a small family enjoying a late night with their small baby.

to childe , this was worse than the abyss. he felt like he was lying to your face. he was leaving , and he couldn’t even muster the strength to tell you that. he didn’t deserve to be a father. he didn’t deserve to love you.

“go back to bed,”

“i am,” you smiled, laying back against the bed. you rested on your side, watching as he continued rocking your son back and forth.

“i love you,” he whispered. the words felt bitter coming out of his mouth. he knew it was true. but he also knew it would be the last time he spoke them to you.

“i love you as well,” you replied in that tired voice he loved so much.

it didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep. only a few moments passed before your son fell asleep as well.

childe gently placed your son in his bassinet. a feeling of guilt overwhelmed him , but he couldn’t stay. this wasn’t the life he deserved. his family deserved better. you deserved better.

he wasn’t going to put you at risk every day of your life just so he could be happy.

he wished he could tell you how much he loves you , but that was no longer possible. you were already asleep , and he intended to be gone by sunrise.

he leaned over to your side of the bed , pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

the next morning arrived , waking you with the bright beams of sunlight. looking to your side , you realized ajax was gone.

that was nothing unusual. he often ran errands in the morning , or he was at work.

either way , you decided to start your day , picking up your small son. the two of you would get some housework done while waiting for ajax’s return.

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glorystark · 12 days

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Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

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sirenpearldust · 27 days

Text

The Void

Pair: Azriel x reader

Word count: 389

Warnings: Angst no happy end, reader is furious, mentions of harming and killing, big fight

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘You are really a piece of shit Azriel’, she laughed as her tears fell.

The thunder outside intensified, as did the rain, echoing the ache in her heart.

She composed herself and met his gaze. Wrath and Fury burned within her eyes. Azriel noticed they were void of any hint of love. He had ignited something else within her, something dark, forbidden and dangerous.

The house trembled as she spoke again, ‘May your soul remain restless, Azriel. I hope you suffer for the rest of your miserable life. I’ve opened myself up to you. I’ve told you how I had been betrayed, humiliated and used, and this is how you treat me? You promised you would be different!’ ,she yelled out.

Opposite her, he stood. His wings drooping, his head hung in shame and his shadows engulfing his body. He attempted to speak, but he knew every word would be in vain. Meeting her gaze, he saw no sign of brokenness; instead she appeared poised to unleash her fiery wrath up on him.

‘ Leave! I can’t look at you, you hideous beast, you monster!’, she spat. ‘ Eris was right about you, you’re nothing, nothing but a low born bastard nobody. Leave, or I’ll give you scars that will make your hands seem insignificant!’

His eyes widened, his tears fell, he began to sob. ‘I’m sorry,’ he cried as his face twisted in grief. He fell on his knees, begging her for forgiveness.

Enraged, she started throwing things at him, screaming for him to leave her alone and at his audacity to beg her while he had ruined them himself. He stood up, still pleading, before he could take a step towards her, scorching hot fire was directed at him.

Shadows swooped just in time, forming a protective barrier around him, shielding him from her blast.

‘ I said leave, or I will kill both of us if I have to’

Her anger fuelled her flames even more. His shadows started to struggle. Against his will they winnowed him away as he struggled to break free, fighting to be with her.

Leaving her alone as she had desired, she hurled more objects at the spot where he had stood and kneeled.

Unleashing some screams she destroyed the bedroom they’ve shared. Leaving it unrecognisable.

After while, she collapsed while sobbing, enveloped by her own grief. He had betrayed her, used her for his own game.

The thunder and rain drowned out her misery as her soul shattered and fire started to spread all around her burning the rest of their home.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Notes: Don’t know when I will continue my other work as I’ve been really busy. Sorry🥲

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel angst #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar angst #acotar x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending

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naomeii · 4 months

Note

Please kindly consider this angsty Neuvillette request: Neuvillette had an Oceanid mate some 500+ years ago, an Oceanid who didn't take on human form. After the construction of the Fortress of Meropide, she sacrificed her form to empower the gate that held back the Primordial Sea. 500 years later when Neuvillette enters the depths of the Fortress to reseal the gate, he hears the encouraging voice of his beloved through the surging seawaters.

Please also kindly take as long as you need with this request; I have no qualms in waiting. Furthermore, by no means feel obligated to prioritize this request over your other requests.

Beneath the Tides.

Neuvillette x Oceanid!Reader

Content : Angst/no comfort, drabble.

The ancient stone walls of the Fortress of Meropide echoed with the haunting whispers of the past as Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, descended into its depths. The air was thick with the scent of brine, and the distant echoes of crashing waves seemed to mourn a tale buried deep within the ocean's secrets.

Five centuries ago, Neuvillette had known love in the embrace of an Oceanid, a mysterious being who refused to take on a human form. Their love was an ethereal dance, a connection that transcended the boundaries of form and substance. She was his mate, and their moments together were like droplets of time suspended in the vast sea of eternity.

In the early days of their love, Neuvillette and his Oceanid companion would explore the untouched corners of Fontaine, marveling at the beauty of the waters they called home. "The depths hold mysteries beyond our understanding, Neuvillette," she would say, her voice as melodic as the lapping waves against the shore.

As time passed, their connection deepened, and Neuvillette found solace in the companionship of his beloved. Together, they witnessed the construction of the Fortress of Meropide, a bastion erected to hold back the relentless tide of the Primordial Sea. But with this monumental undertaking came sacrifices, and none greater than the sacrifice his one and only beloved would make.

The fateful day arrived when the Oceanid decided to surrender her form, her very essence, to empower the gate that guarded Fontaine from the chaos beyond. Neuvillette, unable to bear the thought of losing her, pleaded with tear-filled eyes. "No, my love, there must be another way. I cannot lose you," he implored, but her decision was unwavering.

"I do this for Fontaine, for us. My essence will become the strength that holds back the Primordial Sea. We are bound by duty, my dearest Neuvillette," she whispered, her touch a bittersweet caress against his cheek.

The sacrifice was made, and Neuvillette watched helplessly as the love of his life transformed into pure energy, becoming one with the gate. The waters surged, a tumultuous symphony of grief and determination.

Now, after five long centuries, Neuvillette found himself standing once again before the gate. The echoes of the past resonated in the air, and memories flooded his mind. As he approached the heart of the fortress, the surging seawaters seemed to carry the echoes of a familiar voice.

"Neuvillette," the voice murmured through the currents, a whispered echo of love and encouragement. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the voice, the voice of his beloved from centuries past. "You carry the burden with grace, my love. The fortress remembers our sacrifice, and I am with you in spirit."

Tears welled in Neuvillette's eyes as he continued his journey, guided by the spectral presence of his Oceanid mate. The fortress seemed to respond to their enduring connection, guiding him through the labyrinthine passages with an otherworldly intelligence.

In the depths of the fortress, as he faced the gate and prepared to reseal it, the encouraging voice of his beloved surrounded him. "Our love transcends time, Neuvillette. Seal the gate, and let our sacrifice be the beacon that guards Fontaine."

With a heavy heart, Neuvillette whispered, "For Fontaine, and for you, my love." As he channeled his powers to reseal the gate, the fortress embraced him, and through the surging seawaters, he felt the eternal presence of his mate for the last time

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xan-izme · 10 months

Text

Across the Spidervers x Venom!femReader {Bad ending}

(Reader is Māori)

Summary: Reader was one of the Spidey's that helped Miles save his city from disaster. She returns home, a little while later, Gwen comes to recruit Reader. But this don't go very well.

TW: character death, mental health, trust issues, betrayal, cursing, held captive, traps, mentions of killing

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—––—–—–

You were Spider woman. Yes, you knew that. Your uncle knew that and your friends from other dimensions knew that too! Friends who you missed dearly.

The life as Spider-woman would be tiring at times, but the felling of knowing that the city where your family and many other families live are safe; Was something you needed to know an able to sleep.

But you felt so alone. Missing your friends, missing swinging through a city with them and defeat evil. Joking around and the small meal breaks. You haven't been able to connect with others that much after becoming Spider-woman, it seemed like crime happened everywhere every day.

One day, when you were going against another villain, who was actually a very new one to you.

"So uh, what are you supposed to be? --" You swung up in the air, dodging the attack.

"Some, Super . . .goo?" You watched as dark gooey liquid drip off from it's deformed body.

'Ew'

"You . . . die!" The monster shouted. The thing picked up a large bolder from the wrek and threw it twards you.

You shot your webs at the bolder and jumped up, throwing it right back at it.

"That's not a really nice thing to say man." You continue with your witty comments when trying your best to take down the monster. Then suddenly, the thing begins to glitch. This gave you a little heart attack, knowing the feeling all too well.

"I see, you're from another dimension." You mumbled as the monster's glitching was a little long.

Suddenly, the gooey thing shot itself at you. Luckily you got out the way. But the goo stuck onto you, making your foot and hand stick to the ground and wall.

"Mother--nature!" You shout in frustration.

"Spider-Woman!" You hear a familiar voice shout. You quickly turn your head to see your father, captain of the Brooklyn police force. You clear your voice before speaking in a deep voice.

"uh- Stand back! no need for assistance Captain l/n!" You shout back at your dad who had other officers behind him, ready to engage. You used all of your strength to get your foot out of the goo that had harden instantly. After breaking your foot free. You kicked at whatever the gooey monster threw at you.

Suddenly, some portal opened up. Thats when a figure quickly shot out of it. It didn't take you long to realize who it was.

"Gwen!" right when you and Gwen were away from the civilians, you couldn't help your excitement to hug the living hell out of the blond. Gwen laughed.

"It's nice to see you too." Gwen laughed out as she hugged you back. Gwen began to tell you about the Spider Society and how she wanted to recruit you. She told you the higher up wanted to meet with you about a serious situation that was to happen in your universe.

You got concerned for a moment. You cared about your city and everyone in it. So, if your wold is in trouble, then you would of course get involved.

Gwen gave you a day pass bracelet so you wouldn't glitch like crazy. Before entering the portal, you looked back, wondering what your other family members were doing at the moment. Hoping they would be safe.

The Spider society was honestly amazing. You met and had some fun with people who were like you. You felt so happy, smiling non-stop. Gwen laughed as you acted like a child in a candy store.

Then you both stopped big doors. "Miguel said he wanted to meet with you alone. Y-you alright with that?"

You smiled, a little nervous to meet the big boss of this whole thing. But you reassured her and walked in alone. Before the doors closed, your turned around and gave her a thumbs up and said, "Wish me luck."

The doors closed. It was a little dim, but you were able to see good enough. You breathed in and calmed yourself down, pulling your mask down and walking to where you see more light coming from a specific spot in the big room.

"Uh- H-hello? Mr. O'Hara?" You see a man in a dark blue and red suite. The aura around the man made you nervous, his built just added on to your little fears. You cleared your throat and straightened up.

"I'm Y/n L/n. I was told you wanted to see me . . . sir?" Miguel got closer to you with a stoic look on his face.

"We know who you are kid." Miguel spoke. You frown at the word 'we' and search the room and see a woman who was. . . pregnant. You were a little confused, and worried.

"Um. . . don't y'all get like, paternity leave or something?" You pointed out at the woman. Miguel ignored your comment.

"Where's Gwen?" His words sounded like a question, but not at the same time. "She said you wanted to see me alone. Hey, I kind of need to be back soon. No disrespect sir, but I got school and stuff. . . " You cringed at how dumb you sounded.

Miguel and the woman in the room gave each other a look.

Miguel began to explain the problem.

Apparently, ever since your time in earth 1016, your experience there had changed your mindset on a lot of things, including certain things that were a part of your 'canon' as Miguel called it.

"What . . . what's wrong with that?" You were generally confused, what part of your canon did you accidentally prevented.

Lyla then showed multiple canon events, all the same, all that had happened in different universes.

"Every Spidey loses someone, most of them fall in love and most of them lose that lover. For you, your canon involves family members."

"What?"

"Now we don't know which of your family members would die--"

"The hell, if that supposed to make me feel better!?" You were getting upset, rightfully so.

"Look kid, we know this is hard for you to take in." The woman known as Jessica spoke up. ''But you are your own anomaly, the more you stay with your family the way you are doing at the moment, the more damage you'll inflect on your world."

"Wha- . . . You can't just tell me one of my family members are going to die and tell me not to fucking interfere. My mother is pregnant! my siblings are literally toddlers, my dad- he just got his new position as captain." Your mind was going into a panic, you can't lose any of them. Your family was your whole world, you already lost someone you can't afford to lose again. You know deep inside if you lose anyone else, you'll brake.

And there is nothing you are more afraid of then braking.

Miguel sighed. "I'm sorry kid, but let's be honest. If it weren't for Miles Morals, you wouldn.t be in this situation." Miguel spoke as multiple other Spider people surrounded you. You frown and look around to see all of them.

"What . . . what's going on? . . . Where's Gwen!" Suddenly a gadget was tossed to your feet. And before you could react, a forcefield was put up around you.

And that, that is when you freaked out.

"Once this timer goes off, that is when we set you free. Just a few days kiddo."

Your eyes shifted to the timer. 2 days.

You shouted, banged on the forcefield, used as much strength as you could to try and get out.

"LET ME OUT! GWEN! GWEN HELP ME!" You shouted for your friend. You shouted for help. But alas, no aid came to you.

"Please Y/n. The more you struggle the harder it will be for us." You hear someone say, but you ignore and keep slamming your body against the transparent walls.

Then suddenly your Spidey senses tingled. You look around the room, then you noticed a familiar white and black suit. "Gwen! Gwen help me! Please help!"

Gwen walked up to you. She stared you in the eyes, your face expression dropped when you noticed the look of pain in her eyes. Gwen held herself and turned away from you. "Gwen . . .?"

"You did good Gwen." Jessica began to pat Gwen on the back. Your eyes widen in utter disbelief. "Gwen? Gwen!" You began to bang on the forcefield, tears already threatening to fall. Your face was covered by your mask, but everyone can hear your voice cracks.

Betrayal was all you felt as you continued to try and claw out of the forcefield, for a moment you were almost successful. Then Miguel was able to put on hologram like chains to chain you on the ground to prevent you from clawing at the barrier.

The timer went off. You watched the multiple zeros blinking. Your body felt limp, weak as the forcefield and chains disappeared. Miguel had opened a portal. You ignored him and Jessica as you chanted the names of each family member, slowly going through the portal.

The moment you stepped through, it was chaos. Your families' names repeating in your head praying to all the Gods you knew of to please spare your family.

Finally, you found a familiar body, laying limp under some ruble. Swinging down quickly, you used your strength to get the man free.

Taking your mask off, you lifted the upper half of your father's body.

"Papa" You whisper out. Moving away his hair that was in the way of his face. His eyes slowly opened to see you, his beautiful strong daughter.

"Y/n . . . ko Koe." His voice was small, but firm. You smiled through your tears.

"Yes, it's me." Your vision would get blurry here and there, but the tears would immediately fall the moment you blinked.

"You are in trouble. You were late for dinner." Your father reached up to cup your face. Just for him to pinch your cheek. Even when close to death, he still scolds you.

It didn't take long for him to lose consciousness. You cried and held his body close. Rocking back and forth as you prayed and prayed. Begging for any god to help you.

You didn't notice Gwen slowly approaching you. She mends down and watches as you cradled your father's body in your arms. Gwen reached her arm out and held your shoulder.

"We have to go, before the police get here--"

"Tuku- Tukua--"

"We need to go Y/n--"

"Tukua ahau!" You smacked her hand away and stood up. Hot tears running down your face.

"I whakarerea ahau e koe!" You began to shout in your native tongue. Frustrated, hurt, betrayed.

And the feeling of dishonor you had brought onto yourself was the worse feeling overpowering everything else.

"You are no friend of mine.''

Those words shattered Gwen.

"Leave. GO! Never return." Gwen stumbled back as you returned back to your father. Holding him back in your arms, half expecting him to hold you back.

Overtaken by grief and betrayal, you refused to let the Spider society to help with the anomalies, only you deal with them and send them in a portal back to HQ.

You gained a new power, discarding your tittle as 'Spider-woman', and taking on the tittle 'Venom'.

Venom was, well-- Venom was a handful at first. But Venom helped you become stronger. Helped you defend your city and your family.

Your family took a big hit by the loss of your father.

Sighing as you sat down on the clock tower. Looking over the city, wondering how Miles was doing. Hoping the boy didn't get caught up with Gwen and Peter B.

Miles was probably the only one you still saw as a friend.

'Hungry'

You groan "We already ate Venom."

'You call that food? That was nothing but a maar snack. I want something more! something fresh~"

"Okay one, ew. Two, I'm on a diet."

You hear Venom scoffed. 'Your diet is ew' Venom spoke in a mocking tone. Causing you to roll your eyes.

Out of nowhere, a portal opened up. You were fast on your feet. The portal was a little different from the others, making you stay on guard even more. That's when Multiple Spider people came out.

One specifically that came out angered you in multiple ways. You stayed in place, staying silent.

"Y/n! we need your help!" Gwen came running to you. You silenced out her words and focused on the panic and desperation on her face.

You wonder, if you could just reject her, shun her out and watch the look of despair take over her. That sounded very satisfying.

"Please, say something. Anything! I know what I did was unforgivable, but--" You stayed silent as Gwen was practically begging.

You look up to see some old friends, and new people. You stared at Peni for a moment.

You passed Gwen and walked towards the young teen who was in a new model of her robot.

". . .Nice ride."

Peni's eyes widen at the familiar words that brought back a nice memory. Peni chuckled "Thanks. . . nice suit."

The two of you shared a few seconds of silence. Peni jumped out of the robot and hugged you. You were quick to hold her tight.

You're not blind, it's clear all of you have suffered one way or another.

You set Peni down.

You turned your head to Gwen.

"I have told you to never return." You spoke, your back still faced to the blond. "I know! But Miles-" Gwen was cut off by your hand that rose up to silence her.

"I know of Miles and his situation. But I have my universe to protect. A family I need to keep alive." You walked further away from the group. Venom forming in and taking over at the last word.

"My answer will be the same answer you gave me when I begged you for help."

You will not forgive the ones who hurt you, betray you or your family. Right now, you don't care about anyone else but the ones you have now. You refuse to risk it. Refuse to gamble the lives of your siblings and mother.

And never, will you ever risk your honor, and the honor of your father.

Okay, before ya'll bash me about the Māori part, I know adding on a culture is a little off for many. I just wanted to add on a Māori reader because I don't see many representations of them. So, if any of my Māori readers dislike this, I will gladly change it.

#atsv x reader #Gwen stacy #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort #mental health #Māori reader #venom reader #miguel o'hara #miles morales

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klausysworld · 11 months

Note

Could you do a one shot based on bored from billie eilish, where Y/n leaves Klaus in the end and he realizes the mistakes he made, leaving and cheating on her

Never Enough

The games you played were never fun (mm)

You'd say you'd stay but then you'd run (ah)

———————————————————————

Klaus Mikaelson isn’t an easy man to love.

He pushes me away at every chance he gets.

But as soon as I would leave him be then he was back at my door, chasing my attention.

It took far too long to get used to his games. That’s all love is to him, a game. Feelings are toys and so are people, entertainment for him to thrive upon.

And even after I had realised it, I couldn’t stop myself from loving him.

So, somehow every empty promise he gave me, I believed him. Or maybe I just wanted to believe him and that was enough.

But it got to the point where it was just too much to bypass.

———————————————————————

Givin' you what you're beggin' for

Givin' you what you say I need

I don't want any settled scores

I just want you to set me free

Givin' you what you're beggin' for

Givin' you what you say I need

Say I need

———————————————————————

And yet, even when I knew he had been with another women, when he had treated me as though I were nothing but an object for his pleasure, I found myself apologising to him.

“You know that I love you, I’ve always been there for you. I would never do this to you” I yelled but he only looked angrier

“You love me? You barely look at me! We don’t talk, we don’t touch! We have nothing worth my time!” He bellowed

“I try to” I whispered and he sighed, his hands running down his face

“You have it in your head that I’m doing all of these things, I have been here every step of the way through your incisive whining! You’re sensitivity and your insecurities! I have been right here but I am tired of picking you up, it’s pathetic, it’s boring.” He shouted, his finger pointing at me as he took menacing steps toward me and I followed suit and rushed backwards. His hand came down harshly beside my head against the wall making my body flinch away from the loud noise of impact. I anxiously looked up to him and nodded

“I’m sorry” I whispered “I’ll be better” But he only shook his head, his hand grabbed my jaw forcing me to keep my eyes on his

“There’s no point in this anymore, you don’t want it” he mumbled

“Of course I want this, I love you. Klaus please don’t leave me, not again, please. Please Klaus it’s cruel to do this, just tell me what you want me to do. You know I’d do anything for you” I pleaded, tears running down my face as I held the wrist of the hand on my face.

“Anything?” He questioned

“Anything at all”

———————————————————————

I'm not afraid anymore

What makes you sure you're all I need?

Forget about it

When you walk out the door and leave me torn

You're teachin' me to live without it

———————————————————————

And I truly did everything I could to have him love me even the slightest bit. For him to want me even if it was just for my body. Because I loved him so ridiculously much that it didn’t matter to me if I was just a toy to him, I’d rather it be him than anybody else.

And after a while, the fear was gone.

The screaming matches were just part of the game.

I could hold up my own and fight back at him, rile him up and push him over the edge.

The only thing that still hurt was when he left.

The echo of the door slamming shut rings through my head all of the time.

My knees gave out the second the door closed. I collapsed down to the floor, tears flowing down to the ground despite no sound leaving my lips. My nails pierced through the skin of my arms as I held onto myself. I hated everything about this. It always ended like this, I always ended up just that much more pathetic.

I hated the shell of who I was. Who I am now.

———————————————————————

Bored

I'm so bored

So bored

———————————————————————

Sitting at him waiting for him for hours was just torture. I knew exactly where he was.

Who’s body his hands were all over.

Who’s mouth was on his.

Who’s bed he was breaking.

But I remained in his bed, waiting for him. Whether it was for him to yell at me and throw things or to just lay beside me and slowly, reluctantly put an arm around me.

He didn’t want anything to do with me anymore but I couldn’t find it within me to let him go.

———————————————————————

I'm home alone, you're God-knows-where (mm)

I hope you don't think that shit's fair (ah)

———————————————————————

“Fair!? You want to talk about what’s fair Klaus? It is not fair that you get to go and fuck whoever you want and then come back and torture me for breathing the wrong fucking air!” I screamed

“If you knew what I was doing then why the hell are you still here? Get out! I don’t want you anymore!”

———————————————————————

Givin' you all you want and more

Givin' you every piece of me

I don't want love I can't afford

I just want you to love for free

Can't you see that I'm gettin' bored?

Givin' you every piece of me

Piece of me

———————————————————————

But once again when I left like he said, well there he was back in my room of my new apartment.

“Shh love, you know neither of us meant that. You know that I love you and I know you love me too.” He murmured while wrapping both arms around me, his chin on too my head.

“I have nothing left to give you” I whispered looking into his chest. “You shouldn’t have come back” I mumbled “please leave”

“We’re destined to be together. You’re all I need, you just have to give me your love, it’s all I could ever want” he countered

“Then why wasn’t I ever enough?” I questioned sadly

“You’ve never truly allowed me to own your heart, I needed it”

“And sleeping with other girls gave you that?” I laughed breathlessly and pressed my forehead to his shoulder

“They made it easier to push you away. But I know that you’re what I truly desire, you’re exactly what I need. I want to marry you.”

“Please don’t lie to me”

“Why would I lie? What do I have to loose?” He asked. I shut my eyes in mental turmoil, was he saying he was nothing without me or that I was nothing?

I think I knew it was the latter but ai just refused to let it be true in my mind.

———————————————————————

I'm not afraid anymore

What makes you sure you're all I need?

Forget about it

When you walk out the door and leave me torn

You're teachin' me to live without it

———————————————————————

It didn’t even hurt when I saw him in our bed with another random blonde.

His head turned to me with that stupid expression on his face before he hurried to follow me down the stairs

“Love!” He called as I reached the front door “y/n, sweetheart, please” he murmured grabbing my shoulder so I would face him. “Forgive me my love, I-“

“It’s fine Klaus” I muttered tiredly and he frowned

“What?” He whispered confusion evident on his face as he took a step closer, only boxers on his body and he was clearly still hard, apparently his blondes weren’t as fulfilling as he had hoped.

“I don’t care anymore Klaus, really it’s fine. Just do whatever you want but for the love of God please just don’t do if in the bed I sleep beside you in” I sighed and he grabbed my hand

“You aren’t upset? Or mad? You aren’t yelling…” he listed with a ludicrous look on his face

“You need to wash your hands” I mumbled with a grimace and he quickly retracted them

“You should be shouting at me” he told me and my brows furrowed

“You want me to yell at you?”

“Don’t you care?”

“Not anymore”

———————————————————————

Bored

I'm so bored

So bored

———————————————————————

Klaus wasn’t expecting her to sound so tired. So done with everything.

He didn’t really believe she would leave properly.

But when he received a letter in the mail the next day requesting he leave he be, he knew he’d finally pushed her over the edge.

The sick truth was that Klaus enjoyed taking her live and destroying it. He enjoyed hurting her in a way that only he would be able to. He was a sadistic being who after years on being labelled a monster, finally embraced it.

———————————————————————

Givin' you what you're beggin' for

Givin' you what you say I need

I don't want any settled scores

I just want you to set me free

Givin' you what you're beggin' for

Givin' you what you say I need

Say I need

———————————————————————

But sat alone in his room, nobody to hold when he felt empty, he realised she was actually an important person in his life.

Despite all the girls he had, none of them seemed to give him anything.

As much as he craved emotionless sex, he found that when the women also had no care towards him, it wasn’t what he wanted.

Y/n looked at him like he was everything she had ever wanted. She touched him like he were the most desirable thing on the planet. Her hands were soft and she wanted to please him, she always made it about him, she told him how good he made her feel and how much she loved him.

He missed how she would sit with him in his art room with her crisps and soda while comments on the colours he chose and complimented his composition choices.

He missed her annoying laugh and sleepy smile.

He missed the state of her hair when she first woke up, the way she would struggle against him and refuse his kisses because she had ‘morning breath’.

He missed her cooking and baking, the way she made his coffee and the shitty shows she had him watch.

He missed their arguments, he missed her tears. He missed how she would fall back into his arms and prove to him that her love for him was true.

He missed her.

———————————————————————

I'm not afraid anymore

What makes you sure you're all I need?

Forget about it

And when you walk out the door and leave me torn

You're teachin' me to live without it

———————————————————————

Calling her phone got him nowhere, his voicemails were never answered.

His witches couldn’t locate her.

All he had left of her was the memory of the empty look in her eyes as she left him.

The clothes in his drawer that she didn’t grab when she rushed away.

The clothes he held to his face each night to help him fall asleep.

The pillow he hugged to his chest to remind him of her.

But it wasn’t her.

He would never have her again.

———————————————————————

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xiamentshoneypot · 3 months

Text

Heart stopper

Angst no comfort

Not proof read

Everything went wrong so horrifically wrong, everything else horribly wrong, felt wrong the air that had been pushed into your lungs replacing the air that had been knocked out of you when you realized you’d been ambushed and the comms had been intercepted and he couldn’t hear you. How you heart was so erratic you’d bet it had to rock it’s self and count to ten to calm down after everything had settled. All the air that passed thought shallowly after you’d made your choice. Bold

Now here you were aching and screaming at the top of your lungs at the man you’d die for at any minute it didn’t matter. “fucking answer me” you said calmly trying to soothe your aching arm and heart. This felt like when you had did somthing bad and you thought someone knew and you were just waiting for the shoe to drop the anxiety you felt at the bottom of your heart and to the tops of your soul and being in every form it could possibly take.

Silence. It was infuriating “fucking answer me now” you screamed your sweet voice now high pitched and bare utterly agnostic on the eyes of everyone. Good you wanted him to suffer as you heart is…

“Luv’ m’trying to help” Simon bowed his head scared not from a physical threat or anything like that, scared of your tone you’d never spoken to anyone like that before not when you were barking orders at subordinates and not when interacting with the enemy for information. He’d much rather those voices than this. “Then fucking answer me then! Are you in love with Her”.

Bitter

“Love m’sorry” he tried to plead with you it felt like a firefighter trying to talk someone down from a cliff after the ink dried on all there notes stamped and in route. “Yes or no” you sour voice asked eyes narrowed and soppy. Hoping a quick nod would free him a swift yes of the head stepping forward trying to touch you. Bluntly stepping back chest rising and falling hard.

“Why? And don’t give me no bullshit about how you can’t help who you fall in love with that’s bullshit!” How could he love her she’d done nothing toe arm his love she wasn’t there for him how you were.

“She- she what huh what the hell did she do to deserve that?” You interrupted her was taking too long and it was pissing you off like he had a long list of reasons he was considering. “Please I don’t want to hurt you” he pleaded he never begged like this. “Mission failed bitch what is it huh” you needed a reason and he was stuck.

“She wasn’t there for you, she wasn’t the one who stood by you through the last ten months, the night terrors the ptsd. You didn’t fuck and make love to her for seven months straight sleeping next to her, waking up with her breakfast all that shit.” Did you mean nothing to him did all of that mean nothing.

“I would die for you I just took a fucking bullet for you, not because I had to but because I love you that’s not nothing there aren’t many people who would do that for love.” You had just jumped in front of a bullet to save him to make sure he didn’t die in the face of the enemy.

The coms had been jammed and there were more and more people approaching him, in a stupid act of love you raced over to his aid to see him down but fighting as well as fading into death. Fighting for him, beside him ready to give your life to save or die with him once the gun smoke cleared and you drug his limp body on one good leg and shoulder to the evac site shedding tear after tear for him praying to a god you were sure had domed you years ago. Pleading with him not to fade away in your arms an “I love you” on the top of your tongue when he asks for her.

“it’s everything” he whispered hearing how your heart broke right in front of him love gone like he had almost been.

“I hate you Simon”

#simon riley x reader #141 x reader #cod x black reader #ghost cod #ghost x honey #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x black reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #ghost smut #angst #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort #cod angst #simon riley angst #john price angst

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six-eyed-samurai · 11 days

Text

XOXO, YOUR BIGGEST FAN

As per the results for my vote, here it is! But I never said it wasn't going to be angst~~~

Please leave a comment! It'll gimme motivation to score well in my exams swear UwU

I saw you and I just knew, one day you'd be my man. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his suave talent on the screen, for the thefts of more than hundreds of drama fans’ hearts everywhere, for his signature shark grin and trademark tattoos.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his lead role in the fantasy series Malevolent Shrine, directed by his half brother Kamo Choso, together with the uprising star Gojo Satoru.

Ryomen Sukuna was once known for the tragedy that ruined his life forever and kidnapped him within its dark, depressive grasp to never let him go and completely vanish from the public eye.

I'd kill for you, over and over, I will and could and can. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna’s name was once known to cause crazed stampedes at any store, restaurant or mall he blessed with his presence, but now when he walked hunched and slumped into his stained sweatshirt barely anybody batted an eye at the man who was more dead than alive now.

Ryomen Sukuna's figure was formerly spotted immediately everywhere he went, especially with YOU, his dearest darling angel at his side, a magnet attracting eager, frenzied paparazzi and die hard fans. He couldn't have been more proud to show you in all your glory off to the crowd, to lay claim on you and just prove his undying love for you in front of everyone…once upon a time.

Ryomen Sukuna's expression of easy, lazy smirking from his acting days officially disappeared to be replaced by a face with an emptiness that rivaled the void and had completely forgotten any other emotion long before everyone saw the photo at his final interview on a subject he had no wish to talk about: you and your death.

I know she's hurting us, but don't worry, I've got a plan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna whose answer to the Jujutsu Tech Weekly’s question of what he regretted most was turning down directors Jogo and Hanami’s offer to collaborate in a movie together, but really? He regretted ever convincing you to stop hiding your secret marriage and step into the limelight with him.

Ryomen Sukuna who can boast about his natural acting talent, charisma and success with all the proof in the world to back it up, but he would never say he was one for observance, not after he missed all the signs of an obsessive, insane stalker tailing after him and his precious, pretty wife.

Ryomen Sukuna who wonders what would've happened if he had just BOTHERED to reply and open the thousands of fan letters he used to get - would he have seen the letters his so-called number one fan had sent him, seen the signs of a despairing delusional madness that drove her to start hunting them both down from the shadows? Would he have paid more attention to the way doors seemed to always be unlocked when the both of you headed home, the missing personal items, the defaced pictures online of his wife?

As they all like to say, into the fire from out of the pan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna's temper his frequent viewers, family and friends were more than familiar with that made itself known when he publicly threatened whoever was breaking and entering into your shared home with something more physical than lawsuits; but how was he to know she'd take it the wrong way and somehow convince herself that his wife was putting him up to it, to make his one and only out to be the villain of this imaginary love scenario between her and him, to declare herself his “saviour”?

Ryomen Sukuna's decision to move to a new, more private and secure manor by the coast was supposed to protect you from the strange unknown figure lurking outside the house and everywhere you went. Supposed to. Somehow they found out his new home address anyway, and the only one who knew it was Choso, who swore up and down he told nobody and nobody could have possibly known.

Ryomen Sukuna's management (namely, his irritated manager Kenjaku) who finally succumbed to his harsh insults and furious demands and investigated who's been following them around lately: the truth shocked everyone to the core (could it possibly EVEN be the truth?!) when Fushiguro Tsumiki was arrested.

She might bear your son but you and I will start a clan. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna ignored all the warning signs, the final letter with the ominous words of “I'll be the one to teach you love” and the Fushiguro’s protests of her innocence in favour of announcing the big news to the press and celebrating the new beginning in his and yours romance story, this time with a new addition to the family.

Ryomen Sukuna rarely slept before, preferring to stay up late memorising lines and terrorising the crew, but now was just operating on caffeine and quick naps in his worry during your pregnancy. Did he cry when baby Yuuji was born? Yes, and in his delight - although he pretended otherwise - he never noticed that one guest at every one of his conventions with an agitated expression and a hysterical, hateful grudge against you.

Ryomen Sukuna thought the business with his crazy fan stopped when he had his loyal Uraume taking care of his family on the rare occasions you didn't insist on coming to watch him work and hired a secretary to go through and filter all his letters, or maybe he was just preoccupied with watching Yuuji grow up and showering you with all the love his rough, rugged self could give…because he certainly didn't notice the new “security cameras” being set up at his house.

What a fatal mistake.

We'll be alone eventually, a couple and no longer a ban. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who staggered back and nearly killed the messenger when he heard the news, who raged internally against whatever cruel god had decided to deal him this fate: you and Yuuji had somehow disappeared when driving back from the park and even though police searched high and low you both were nowhere to be found.

Ryomen Sukuna whose world shattered when the two most important people in the world to him were declared dead. Despite Choso’s frantic persuausion and attempted comforts he vowed to never return to the world of stardom, not after his celebrity status got you both killed. He disappeared into the sea of ordinary lives, all signs of vibrancy and life gone right down to his iconic pink hair; he dyed that black, black as his heart and as black as the sky the day his darling went away, the day the letter arrived.

Ryomen Sukuna who imagined the police might make your deaths more real and not so nightmarish when they found your body, but never this way - what sort of sick bitch would send him a parcel containing the severed fingers of you ans Yuuji with a heart signed “Always your girl, Yorozu.”

I'm yours, you're mine, your wife's gone, just say she ran. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who now wanders the world, alive but alone, so ready to once love what he had had. A fate crueler than him has revealed itself, for they never did catch whoever had done the deed. The last time anyone had ever seen Sukuna at all was at the trial where Tsumiki was released.

Ryomen Sukuna who's played his fair share in horror movie of twisted endings and gruesome grief, but nobody ever told him real life was inspiration for the dark content. Everybody's long forgotten him as he slid into the role of background cameos but he never forgot how even with his fame and money he could never save you and Yuuji, much less avenge you both.

Ryomen Sukuna's half assed attempts at suicide never seemed to work out and he's nothing more than an angry shell of his former glory now. He even tore down both your photos in a fit of rage once; the man in the mirror wasn't him, surely?

They hunted in my basement but never searched my van. XOXO, your biggest fan.

Ryomen Sukuna who is now known for his infamous brutal homicide of one Fujiwara Yorozu with his bare, bloody hands who approached him at a shady bar and whispered she had done away with the devil, won't he ascend to Heaven with her now?

“FXXK YOU, I'D RATHER FALL TO HELL WITH HER THAN BE DRAGGED TO ‘HEAVEN’ BY THE LIKES OF YOU!”

#sukuna x you #sanzuyaps #jjk #x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #Itadori brothers #actor au #modern au

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theres-a-body-here · 3 months

Note

his! if possible, i’ll request cole cassidy x reader who’s apart of Talon? thank you so muchhh! and no pressure, if you can’t complete it that’s alright!

You never specified the tone of the fic 😈 😈 😈

Cole Cassidy x Male!reader

Cole took a deep breath as he clutched his broken robotic arm, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain coursing through the attachment nerves.

His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down his forehead, mixing with the dust kicked up from the explosion that went off in the building. His communication device was broken as well. He couldn't call for the others.

Cole grunts as he attempts to stand, but is stopped as pain shoots through his leg. The pain felt like a thousand needles piercing his flesh, making it hard for him to think straight. He tried to get up again, but his wounded leg gave way underneath him. He looks around and finds Peacemaker, grabbing it.

After a few moments of silence, trying to come up with some sort of plan, he hears a groan a few yards away. Cole quickly turned his head in its direction, his breath catching in his throat.

In an awful way, Cole wished you had died in the explosion instead of having to face you himself. Killing his childhood best friend wasn't something he ever wanted to do.

You were still kicking. Talon's agents always had a nasty habit of not staying dead. Your face was contorted into a grimace as you pulled yourself out of the rubble, Talon armor cracked and tearing into your skin. After a few feet of crawling, Cassidy noticed the loss of your right leg. Despite that, you seemed hell bound on completing your mission.

Stubborn, just as you were in Deadlock.

You halted your movement towards him and met his gaze. Both of you stared at one another in silence. Eyes locked onto each other like two predators who knew each other's moves all too well. A soft wind blew through the broken concrete of the former building, rustling dust around them. No one spoke a word, but the tension was palpable.

Memories flooded back to Cole - warm summer nights spent under Texas skies, holding you close and feeling your laughter vibrate through him whenever he planted a gentle kiss on your cheek. As he looked at his gun, he remembered those moments fondly before tightening his grip on it.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange hue over the landscape as the sky turned dark blue above.

Your eyes darted around, spotting your revolver lying nearby, its cold metal reflecting the dying sunlight. He also spotted the familiar gun, not believing that you kept it after all this time. Cole watched you look at it and then back at him, his heart racing wildly as he realized what might happen next. The weapon lay there like a temptress calling for attention.

"You...had it engraved for me?"

"Consider it a parting gift, darlin'"

You slowly started reaching for the weapon, fingers curling slightly as if to caress it.

Cole swung his arm, pointing his gun directly at you without even thinking about it. This action froze you mid-reach, leaving you staring at him with an unreadable expression.

"Don't shoot me out of panic," you said in a unnervingly calm voice, though whether it was meant as a taunt or genuine plea, Cole couldn't discern.

Cole ground his teeth together, searching for the right words to say without lowering his guard. He kept his sights trained on you, never breaking eye contact even for a moment.

Before Cole could find his voice, you began speaking calmly once more, "Humans need conflict; it's out of love that I want society to grow stronger." Your cold eyes pierce through his very being.

"Talon will strengthen humanity."

He watched as you started reaching for the pistol again, his grip on Peacemaker tightening further.

The world seemed distant to Cole as the sounds of your voice filled his mind, echoing with justifications and explanations for why you ended up here. His ears rang with the weight of your words, making everything else feel far away as you continued your 'speech'.

You truly believed Talon was helping the world.

"Please… darlin', don't make me do this," Cole whispered desperately under his breath, his voice cracking as he fought tears.

Silence reigned once more as the cool evening breeze danced around them, lifting dust devils into the air. The moon crested the horizon, bathing them in pale light.

"My heart and actions are utterly unclouded," you said softly, almost sadly. Then suddenly, you lunged for the pistol, grasping it firmly before leveling it at Cole.

The click of an empty chamber echoed in the quiet desert air, followed almost instantaneously by the sharp retort of a single gunshot.

#jesse mccree #jesse mccree x reader #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy x you #male!reader #male reader #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 #angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending #open ending #whump #whump writing #i love being evil

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vivakitkt · 1 year

Text

I love you, why don't you like me?

Synopsis: You love Xiao. But why doesn't he like you. What does it take for him to notice you? Then a chance to end your feelings for him. To relieve yourself from the pain. Do you take it?

Warnings: angst/ maybe comfort, !hanahaki reader, reader is implied as adepti(immortal, etc), not proofread,

Authors note: guess whos finally decided to post after 3 months... :') im back though! Decided to randomly make this!

Will make a part four with other ending!

Enjoy reading!<3333

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3(this story is pt 3)

As Xiao continued to look at your bloody body, he felt more guilty.

Was it his fault that you got hurt? The first thing he swore that would never happen to you? He couldn't believe it. He just stood there, almost lifeless, eyes blank. Staring at the ex-archon's arms where you layed.

As more chatter and gossip filled the room, a man with green hair entered the room, gesturing Zhongli into a room and flicking his hand to disperse the crowd surrounding your still body.

Xiao still hadn't move, that was until the traveler shook his shoulders.

/Xiao! You are you alright?/ the traveler spoke, tilting their head, worried that Xiao was feeling sick seeing how he hadn't moved.

/ah, ahem, nothing out of the ordinary./ Xiao replied back, clearing his throat

Right. Nothing out of the ordinary, other that the fact that you got hurt. Even while you had called out his name, he just ignored it.

He didn't deserve you. Not after this. Xiao would just make sure you were okay recovering. That's it. Then after that, he would leave you.

Y/n pov

Slowing opening your eyes, you heard a soft humming noise and people talking in the back. What had happened in the time you were unconscious?

/ah, it seems our patient is awake now./ A strange man with green hair spoke out

/I was the one who treated you while you were injured/ the man said placing a hand over his chest, taking a bow respectfully

/oh, thank you very much./ you said trying to push yourself up, but felt a throbbing pain in your ribcage

Instantly, Zhongli ran to your side, carefully holding your shoulders, placing you down gently onto the mattress.

/You should rest up for a while before standing up once again, not after that stunt you pulled off/ Zhongli said, scolding you to make sure you didn't hurt yourself more.

/Thank you Zhongli./ You lightly chuckle and smiled at the (ex)archon infront of you in

/However, there might be something you want to listen to./ As Zhongli gestured to the doctor.

Now you would be hearing of the bad news.

It seemed like you still had a couple of months before the disease took a large toil on your body. But now after your accident, you only had a couple of weeks, maybe even days left.

The news shattered your heart, you had to make the decision now. Remove the disease by surgery, forgetting about Xiao, or die. At this point isn't there a clear option?

To die. You could have a peaceful death now. Even though Xiao didn't reciprocate your feelings. You didn't need to date him to make your life better. Sure that would have been amazing, but being able to see him every day and slowing being able to see him smile, was all worth the suffering you could feel now.

/no thank you doctor, I don't think I'll be needing the surgery!/ You smiled towards the man.

/I see then, that person must be very important in your life then/ the man said as he chuckle at bit then glancing at the ground.

/I'll be on my way then/ packing his bags, the man finally left. Leaving only you and Zhongli in the room.

/Are you sure you really wish to live with this pain until you part?/ Zhongli asked you with concern

/Theres nothing more I wish to achieve in life./ You said as you slowly exhaled

/Being able to love Xiao already was the greatest choice I could have made, no matter how the result was. He made me happy/ As you sadly smiled back to the man. A couple of seconds later Zhongli replied back.

/I see then, I will support your decision./ Zhongli smiled towards you then slowly turning towards the door.

Time skip

The flowers were finally in bloom, although there weren't many, they were beautiful. Especially the qingxins around the mountains, they reminded you of someone.

However despite all good going on, the disease that ran through your blood was starting to cause heavier damages to your body. You coughed more, more flowers and blood, and you were having these head splitting headaches. But somehow it all went away when he came near you.

Even though you decide to not remove the disease contaminating your body, you didn't regret it any bit. At that moment you could have lost him. Forgetting all of the precious memories you made together.

At least you got to spend a few more days with him, so that made the inevitable death that would happen to you soon, less painful.

Usually your days would go as normally as they always would. You would go vist Xiao, Zhongli, grab lunch with him, and part your ways to go to the doctors office. However today was a bit different. You decide to head to the flower fields. Maybe cause you knew it would not be long till you parted ways with Xiao.

You took a small walk to the fields and made your way to your spot you would always go with Xiao and sat down. The flowers were beautiful this time of month and seemed to glisten and shine in the sun. But after a while, you started to feel a bit sleepy.

/Just a few minutes/ you said as your eyes started to droop down.

/just for a few minutes.../

Xiao pov

Y/n.

It seems like he always took you for granted. It was always you making the meetings, and taking charge to make sure he ate and without you, Xiao probably would have never made any friends.

Where were you? You were later then usual. You would have met him here about now.

What if something had happened? Like last time. Xiao suddenly felt the urge to go and find you. But where could you possibly be? Maybe you were with Zhongli? Right, you probably were. After all, you loved tea. He quickly teleported to Zhongli's tea spot. But when he got there, you were no where to be seen.

/Rex- Zhongli, have you seen y/n at all?/ Xiao said clearing his throat

/You haven't seen them?/ Zhongli replied, taking a sip of his tea, looking rather sorrow.

/No, I haven't./ But Xiao being quick, he caught on that something might had happened. Something he didn't know about.

/Is there something I should know about?/ Xiao said quirking his head up

/I seemed to have made a promise with them but I think they would have you wanted to know./ Zhongli said placing down his cup.

/Hanahaki./ the man spoke out.

/What? What do you mean-/

/Y/n had hanahaki./ Zhongli said closing his eyes inorder to avoid Xiao's eyes.

Xiao stood there. Silent.

/What do you mean they had hanahaki?/ Xiao said, cluching his fist staring at the ground.

/A deadly disease, a very rare one in particular although./

So you had hanahaki and didn't tell him?

Who was it? Who was the person who cause you this pain. Once Xiao knew, he would never allow that person to talk ever again.

Ah. But once this never crossed his mind. How long have you had this disease?

/Zhongli. How long has it been since y/n got hanahaki?/ Xiao stared at the ex-archon's eyes.

/Six months./ The man in front of him said

Six months. Most people who caught hanahaki only lived for four months. Four months? And you caught it six months ago? If anything...

As Xiao realized, he began to panic. Immediately he teleported away, however the archon stopped him before he could disappear.

/Before leaving Xiao, you should know that y/n had feelings for you./ Zhongli said, stirring his tea

/They could have forgotten about you with a surgery, relieving them of the pain but they chose not to/

Xiao realized his mistake he quickly teleported to a empty field leaving Zhongli by himself, reminiscenting of your memories you spent together.

With no stop, Xiao continued to search around for you until he felt a presence that felt like yours.

As he got there though, he realized he was too late. You were gone.

He walked over slowly, taking your beauty in as you layed there. Surrounded by the flowers and the sun setting behind you.

/Greetings y/n. This meeting is a bit different than usual. Isn't it?/ Xiao said as he choked back tears. Tears he held in for years.

He was too late. He was always too late. He couldn't catch you in time. He didn't come in time for your death, so much that you couldn't even tell him of your disease. And too late to recognize his feelings toward you, and your feelings.

Better late than never, as they say. Right? But why did it hurt so much?

As he sat there with your lifeless body. Limp in his arms. Xiao started to weep as he held you, to make up for the times he didn't.

/Im sorry./ He murmured

Im sorry...

#genshin angst #xiao x reader #genshin writing #xiao angst #adeptus xiao #xiao imagines #xiao x you #genshin x reader #genshin men #genshin imagines #genshin xiao #agnst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending

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codfanficedits · 6 months

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Final tribute

If you're looking for a sign to stay alive, this is it.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

Summary: Suicide.

Wordcount: 4968| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: SUICIDE, mentioning of self-harm, mentioning of shoplifting, mentioning of a fucked up childhood.

A/N: Today (third of November) marks the 9 years anniversary of my best friend killing herself. It has taken me years to come over the guilt, and even 9 years later I still wonder if I could've prevented this. But I couldn't and she is gone. In a way I hope she'll live forever through me and my stories. We were teenagers, having to cope with shit that adults couldn't even cope with. I love you and even though you'll always stay 19 you're still my best friend. Until we meet again. A/N 2: If you're struggling yourself. Please know that life will be worth it, the sun will shine on you too one day, and you'll find the joy in life once more. I've struggled with suicidality and sometimes I still do. But. It. gets. better. I promise.

The silence lingers in the air as he sits on the chair next to your bed. You’re sleeping, getting some much deserved rest, but he can’t help but be angry at you. Angry for attempting, angry for not sharing what was going through your mind, angry at the professionals, for just letting you go again. But his anger gets replaced by guilt as he watches you sleep. Because if you were to die, it would’ve been his fault, at least to Simon.

Except that it wasn’t his fault. You just weren’t made for life and you knew it. Depression had been weighing you down since your teenage years, following you like a ball and chain into adulthood. No matter how much you tried, how hard you tried to fight it, it was a losing battle. A cruel dance with fate. Simon’s eyes wander around the self-harm scars that cover your body, a reminder of your battle, a reminder of every time your mind won the battle against your will to live.

As Simon’s guilt deepens, tears fall from his eyes. You always used to tell him “a cry a deep keeps the demons away.” So, he cried. You had always used your humour as a shield to cope, as a shield to keep people out of the dark abyss of your mind. No one would suspect a thing if you just kept joking about it.

It was a painful realisation – the guilt, but also the truth in those words. It was what he missed most about you, your smile, your warmth, your kindness. He misses your wisdom the most. Maybe if he had tried to understand you more, none of this would be happening. His heart ached with regret and longing.

Simon felt lost. He remembered your humour, but he could never make the thoughts leave his head. How you were always so lively and funny, but had suffered in silence for so long.

This had worried you the most. Not the dying alone part, you had made peace with dying alone a long time ago. But the failing of your plan, and how it would hurt the people around you.

He knew you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he didn’t think he could find the way to forgive you yet. As for himself, he felt he could never forgive himself for not noticing earlier. How close you had been to death. How far he had allowed this to go, without a single moment’s notice. Not that this would’ve changed anything for you, you would’ve done it either way. With or without him noticing. The depression that had been brewing in you for more than a decade was a ticking time bomb, being set off without anything mayor happening. But this had been a messy attempt, your mind too crowded to think properly, the pain of being alive too much to bear. So you had made mistakes, mistakes that caused your attempt to fail. Mistakes that would make you hate yourself even more. Mistakes that would be carved into your skin the moment you had the chance. Simon couldn't help but feel your attempts to hide your depression had been his fault. Had he not made you believe you had to? Or was this merely some cruel trick his mind was playing on itself? He wanted to hold your hand so badly, to feel your warmth, to tell you he loved you. But you were sleeping. His guilt consumed him. He began thinking of every moment you had been depressed, every instance he hadn't helped, every time he hadn't noticed a thing. But truth be told, you would never had let him help you, your depression had been weighing you down, pulling you under the surface while you desperately tried not to drown.

But drowning is a silent thing to do.

And you, you felt as if the whole world had to be carried on your shoulders. Professionals had failed you, and friends were not made to carry such a heavy load. So you carried it all by yourself, allowing yourself to slip under the surface of the water. Simon was terrified. The idea of you suffering in silence hurt him more than he ever imagined it would. He wanted to tell you how much you affected the lives of those around you. How he had looked up to you for your wisdom, your humour, your honesty. How you had brightened his days just by being there. He also wanted to say how sorry he was for not noticing your depression sooner. But you weren't awake. So he stayed beside your bed, waiting. Hoping. Praying that you would live.

The disappointment of being alive would wash over you soon enough, and you would have to live with that disappointment, a disappointment to yourself and your friend. Your eyes flutter as you begin to wake up, the sunlight burning through your closed eyelids, the pain you feel a reminder that you’re alive. But you don’t want to open your eyes. You can’t face reality, not yet. A wave of relief washed over Simon as he felt you stir. He was still angry, worried, confused, but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. He reached for your hand, wanting to hold on to the life he had thought he lost. Wanting to hold on to you. Wanting to let you know just how much you meant to him.

"Don't leave me again."

You can’t answer him, not yet. You have to deal with the disappointment of being alive first, before you can tend to him.

Fuck

How you wished you were dead, how you wished that you had succeeded, how you wished you had finally found your peace. You turn to your side, curling up as a ball, the sobs that leave your lips are raw, violent even. As if your soul got broken open and you can’t stop your feeling from pouring out. As Simon watched you curl up into a ball, his heart ached. He could feel your hurt, your anger, your pain, and wished he could take it away from you. And he felt you needed this, this release, this raw feeling. But he also understood how much you disliked your existence. How unfair this life had been to you. How many times you had been disappointed by it all. By other people, probably. But he hoped in the end, you would know how much he appreciated and cared for you. Your tears didn’t stop, by all means they just poured harder, more violent. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did you have to be alive? Your feelings turn into anger, angry at yourself for failing, for staying alive, angry at the universe for playing these cruel tricks. “Fuck, Simon.” You sob. “I can’t do this.” Simon felt his anger dissipate, replaced by worry. He couldn't see you this way. So hurt. So depressed. So angry at the world, at life. That anger had always been the first thing he thought of when he pictured you, but not like this. Not the world's anger. Your own. "Hey hey, it's alright." He sat down next to you. "We can get through this together. Just me and you, like always." And that was when, for a moment, he almost believed it.

But you can’t, you don’t want to. You had been trying to get through it, with him, without him. But you’re tired. Tired of trying not to drown when the world is pulling you under. So, so, so tired. “I don’t want to, Simon.” You whisper and your voice sounds tired, as if you’ve been up for days. “I can’t fight anymore.” "Stop." he whispered, his heart aching. This wasn't the reality he wanted to admit, but it was one that was hard to deny. "Please, can't you see how many people care about you? I'm not talking about friends and family, I'm talking about me. Don't you think seeing you like this hurts me?" He knew you were tired. He knew you wanted to just disappear from the world of pain and suffering. And so he tried one last time. "Don't disappoint me." You squeeze his hand, to the point that your own hand starts to hurt from the power. You could see the pain in his face. The pain you had caused. And the guilt hit you like a ton of bricks. You feel so selfish, like you always have been.

“I’m so sorry for putting you through this.” "Stop... stop apologizing." He felt you squeeze his hand, and took it as a sign of hope. Perhaps there was still a chance, even at your lowest, to fight for life. "I'm your friend. I'll always fight with you, even when you can't fight anymore. Especially then. Maybe we can learn how to fight this together." He hoped it wasn't too far gone. He didn't want to lose you to the darkness. But what would you do if it wasn’t apologizing? It was all you did. Apologizing for existing, apologizing for not being good enough, apologizing for being depressed. For being alive. You give his hand a softer squeeze. “Thank you, Simon.” You mumble. “Thank you for being here, and I’m sorry if I’ve let you down.” "You've never let me down," he whispered back. His eyes were soft, and his expression gentle. All the anger, guilt and disappointment had vanished. He was thinking of you, how hard you had tried — harder than most would. He knew this. He felt this. He couldn't blame you for wanting an escape. An escape he wished he could provide.

"Don't you see? You're the strongest person I know. You're the last person to need to apologize."

His words. No matter how kind they were. They didn't register. You understood them, they were words you could even tell to others. But those words weren't meant for you. Not to someone like you.

So you laid there, curled up in a ball, the disappointment of being alive weighing on you. But they were meant for you. They were for you. Because even when you felt broken, he saw you as strong. When you were tired, you were resilient.

"Let me come a little closer." Simon shifted closer, trying to place his hand on your arm. He wanted to hold on. He wanted to feel you. Your warmth, your touch, your comfort in his hand.

You were hurt, but he wanted to hold that warmth, hold on to you. Because it felt like a treasure to him.

"Rest," he told you. And he meant it; he wanted you to take a break. You were so tired, so full of self-destruction.

He stayed with you in that bed, even as he felt your strength slip away. He wouldn't leave you until he was sure you could fight back. You would fight back, and he would do whatever he could to help you, to make the world a more bearable place. To give the light inside your soul room to heal.

And so your first attempt ended like this. With Simon holding you.

But you were broken, broken beyond repair, and one attempt turned into two, turned into three. All while Simon's life just continued. His missions, his deployments. And there you were. Feeling like a burden again. Simon felt his heart sink with each attempt, his anger growing with each disappointment. It made him feel powerless, unable to help you get better. To show you how much the world needed you. How much he needed you. "Not again..." His voice trembled with tears, a look of desperation on his face. He wanted you to recover, but felt hopeless. He felt that maybe he had already failed you, but didn't dare think it. Because if there was a chance for you to survive... he wanted you to take it. It must've been exhausting for him too. Not knowing if a call from you was just to catch up, or if he would hear just sobs, and rambling about how you couldn't take it anymore. How he had spent hours and hours talking to you. Unable to cope with the guilt of something would've happened to you.

But he was only human, and humans can only take so much.

You look at your phone. Tears streaming down your face as you had called him. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing..." He sighed. "I can't take this anymore. You can't keep doing this. Can't keep hurting yourself, can't keep hurting others, can't keep hurting me."

He didn't want to shout, but for the first time his anger began to surface. He wanted to see you get better, but his hopes were dwindling. "Just... please." Simon was at a loss of words. "How can I make you feel better about all this? What do you need?"

His anger was justified. In your attempt to stay longer on this earth you were dragging him along your misery.

"I'm sorry!" You repeat again, as the tears roll down your cheeks. "I don't know Simon." You hated that you had called him, once again. He was on deployment, unable to help you.

"Can you let me go?"

Simon felt his stomach knot. "Absolutely not." He knew his anger could hurt you, but had to hold on to his hopes of saving you. Because he had promised himself he wouldn't let you escape like this.

"No. No way." He let his voice raise, his anger making him feel stronger. "I am not letting you go." He would not hurt you further, but he would also not let you give up. He had to try.

A decision was made.

And you took a deep, deep breath. "Right." You mutter. "I'm sorry, again."

You wipe away your tears. "I know you're busy. And I really don't want to bother you. But can we just talk? Talk about our time at high school?" "Always." Simon smiled softly as the knot in his stomach disappeared. He felt more hopeful now that he had gotten your attention, and felt his anger melt away. "You know you're never a bother. How I wish the only thing I had going on was to speak to you." He tried to joke, but his concern for you clouded his humour.

"Tell me the first thing that comes to mind. High school. Any memories."

A soft sigh left your lips. You could hear his concern. You could hear your heart crumble when he joked about all the things that were going on, and how you were just another add on to that pile. But you pushed it away. This phone call had to turn into a light one. One without more worries.

"Remember how we met?" You ask. "In our self-defence class. You were brand new and I was a black belt. We hit off immediately, and then it turned out we went to the same high school." A smile formed on your face. Better times.

"I remember us secretly smoking behind the building." You snicker. Simon's smile broadened, the memory coming back to him as if they were there a second ago.

"I've always wondered what would have happened if I didn't go to that class." The smile faded again, replaced by thoughtfulness, as Simon considered how different his life would have been. He likely would have never met you. "I wasn't as tough as you remember, I was just taller." He chuckled. "I remember my first day, and you told me about your past. And you asked me about my life — which I was very quiet about then. What else do you remember?" You can’t help but chuckle. "Yeah we definitely did some trauma bonding. Two people with a fucked up childhood."

You clear you throat. "I'm glad we both managed to escape our homelife."

At the mention of trauma bonding, the smile dropped from Simon's face. It was true, it was how you had bonded. And it was one of the worst ways to bond. But he knew you were still thinking about it, and didn't want to change the mood of the call. "Don't think about that," he said. "Come on now, we can't let a shitty childhood ruin our lives." He was one to talk. Running away at eighteen to join the military. You both knew that your childhood would haunt, till the end of times. But you dropped the subject. Not in the mood to ruin this phone call. "Yeah yeah." You mutter.

"I remember you sneaking out of school to shoplift a can of coke." You laugh. "I was so goddamn worried you'd get caught." "Not as worried as me." Simon laughed. "I didn't get caught, though. So my criminal record is still clean... for now." "Although it is a miracle you never got caught. I don't think I've paid for a single can of coke in my last year of high school, thanks to you."

Simon felt his spirits lift, as he recalled all the stolen sodas you and him had split. It had gotten harder to sneak them in as you went up the year grades, but you had enjoyed those stolen moments of sweetness together.

For a few moments, it was as if you were still in those high school halls. Stealing drinks, telling each other about your past, and trying to escape your family life by spending all your time together. But now you were far apart, and there were other problems in your lives. Life had changed. "God. We were idiots." You sighed. "The amount of times we skipped school just to hang in the park and smoke."

"I still don't get how we graduated." You add with a smile, the phone call was helping to take your mind off things.

"We were almost too late for our math final." "We were extremely late for our maths final," he corrected. "But it got us through, didn't it?" He chuckled nervously, thinking of how close you came on several occasions to being kicked out.

"We weren't idiots. Life was just hard." He sighed, his eyes growing softer with each word, "We just needed to find ways to escape. And somehow, we made it." He knew you were feeling better, and thought for a moment. Perhaps he did want to push you a bit, to help you heal.

Of course you remembered, life had been hard for the both of you, yet somehow he had managed better.

"Somehow we made it." You repeat. "Thanks for staying on the phone with me, Simon. I know you're busy, and I'm feeling better right now. I'll keep you updated through text, okay?" "The day you don't call me on your lowest is the day you stop being my friend." Simon tried to joke. He wanted to lighten the mood, but also make you feel wanted. It was important to him that you did not feel like a burden.

"And don't apologize. Your emotions are the most important to me... don't push them away. I just wish I could be there to hold you through it all."

"You don't have to rush." Simon added, a sense of finality to his words.

"You staying on that call meant more than you'll realise." You said. "I'll text you soon okay? Take care Simon."

You ended the call, with a soft smile. Outgoing call: 57 minutes and 26 seconds. It did you more good than you had expected.

Simon sighed. Although it had been a long call, it felt like it had gone by in a flash. He kept thinking about that joke he made, about the day you stopped calling him on your worst days. And how he didn't want that day to ever come.

He knew you had been hurt too much in your life, so he was happy to keep being with you. To keep talking, to keep lifting you up again. He thought he had succeeded, too. Maybe you wouldn't try to hurt yourself again.

"I'll talk to you later." He muttered to himself.

You did feel better. Your house got cleaner, you started going out more. No longer calling in sick to your job that often.

You snapped a pick of a sunrise, sending it to Simon. "Made me think of you." You texted before you went on with your day. A little check in to let him know you were okay. He smiled as he read the message, feeling his heart lift as he read it. It was more than just a little message to Simon. It was what he needed to see, to know you were recovering, and happy. To know that all of the time and effort he put into helping you was paying off. He wanted to tell you right now that he was proud of you, that he was happy for you. But maybe you didn't need that yet. So, he kept it to himself for now. He responded with a simple "Thanks" message.

You did it every day. Usually in the morning. Sunrises. A flower. A dog. Anything that made you happy. And he usually responded with a "Thanks." But that was enough for now.

Your therapist applauded it, and that made you happy too.

You crouched down during one of your walks. Making a picture of one of the first fungi you had spotted during her walk. You send the picture to Simon.

"First one! When is your next deployment?"

Simon was glad for the daily pictures, and did his best to keep it up. He wanted you to feel like you were important to him, so he had to try and be more attentive to your messages. He stopped in the hallway as he read your latest message.

"Uh, this weekend. For three weeks." He texted.

He wondered if he should say more, but did not want to overwhelm you. He was happy already. You were alive, and looking at flowers and fungi. You were feeling better.

Ah. Three weeks. You knew he didn't have any service while deployed. Something with safety and all that. But you didn't mind. The cold November air hit your face, and it made you feel alive. You took a deep breath, letting the crisp air fill your lungs.

"That sucks :(. I'll keep sending you the nice things I find on walks, even if you can't see them right away." You texted back.

Simon was glad you understood, and didn't want you to think he didn't care. He tried not to think about the length of the deployment, or the fact that he would likely not be able to talk to you for three weeks. But it didn't matter, because you were recovering.

"Send whatever photos you want, I won't be able to respond, but I will love looking at them." He texted. "Three weeks go by faster than you'd think. I'll be home before you know it."

You did the math. He would be gone on the first of November. And he would be back around the 22nd.

"Do you think you'll be home for Christmas? It’s been a while since we celebrated together." You texted him back.

Your text felt like a punch to the gut. It was true, it had been a while since you had celebrated Christmas together. Your last Christmas together had been two years ago, and it had been an awkward one at that.

Simon tried to put on a brave face. "I'm going to try." He texted. "If I'm lucky, I'll be back late December... maybe even early." He wondered if you would take these answers well, or if he had just made things worse.

"That's great. We'll work the details out when you're back from deployment, no worries." You texted back. There was a light spring in your step as you walked to your job. As if the weight of the world had fallen off your shoulders. "I'll text you tomorrow before you leave for your mission :)"

"Sounds good." Simon was glad to see you in high spirits again. "Talk to you soon."

You and Simon continued to exchange photos for the remainder of the week. He sent you images of training exercises, and you sent him photos of birds, and flowers. It was the highlight of both your days. On Saturday morning, the day before Simon was to depart for the mission, he sent you a voice message. He was standing in his room, as he talked.

"Hey. How are you today?" Some days you just exchanged pictures. The others you had whole conversations. But that was okay, you understood he was busy, and you didn't need his attention all of the time. You smiled when you got his voice message, it was nice to hear his voice again.

"Simon! I'm good, best I've been in a while." You answered through a voice message. "How are you? What time are you leaving?"

"I'm glad." That was always Simon's response, when he heard you were doing 'well.' He had grown to love seeing your photos, and the few conversation you had together throughout the week kept him going. He sounded excited when he spoke, and you could hear a little of the anticipation in his voice.

"Leaving in 20 minutes." He sent. "I'm feeling pretty good, to be honest. A little nervous, but I'm looking forward to the mission."

"You're a good soldier, Simon." You responded through your voice message. "Those three weeks will be over in no time, and when you're back we can go plan Christmas. In the meantime. I'll send you my daily pictures, so you have something to look at when you get back." You added in another voice message

Simon smiled when he heard you call him a good soldier. It felt nice, to be recognized. And to be seen.

He sent back one message that simply said, "Thanks."

He got ready for the mission, grabbing his gear and getting into his squad vehicle.

As he drove in quiet, he thought about planning Christmas. It felt nice, looking forward to things. Maybe you and him could go on a little trip, or do something fun together.

He was optimistic, and couldn't wait for the next three weeks to be over.

On November first you send him a picture of a sunset.

"Reminds me of you. I miss you :)"

But you got no answer, knowing he was out in a mission and had no reception.

On November second you send him a picture of a dandelion, a cat, and the moon.

"Even though we're apart we're looking at the same moon."

And again you got no answer, but you knew he had no reception.

On November third you send him a selfie, a smile on your face.

"I will miss you Simon. Take care. I will always love you. You've been a great friend. You've been my best friend."

On November third you put your phone back on your desk before you left your home. The walk to the train station was short. You had led them all on, but it was your time to leave.

You had held on to life as long as you could. But you were done. You were tired. You couldn't live another day, but at least he would have some good memories of you.

"I'm sorry." You mutter as you saw the train approaching.

One deep breath.

You and Simon always had a habit of sending photos to each other. Especially of the sky. Simon felt a sinking feeling come over him as he saw your last pictures. It was a beautiful sunset, but the words you chose had taken away much of its beauty.

"God damn..." He whispered as he read your message. "Is this what I think it is?" He started getting a thousand thoughts at once, all flooding through his brain.

What could he have done?

Should he have said something different?

You were going to be okay. You were getting better.

Nothing. Nothing could've been done. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't the fault of your therapist. No one was at fault.

Some people just weren't made to grow old, and you were one of them. Your depression had haunted you and had finally taken you to the dark abyss. You were finally at peace.

Simon tried to push away the thoughts of all you were going to miss. All of the life you were going to miss. He could not believe it. He simply couldn't. The person he tried to cheer up, was gone. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault... He kept repeating that to himself, but deep inside he knew that had always been true. He had done all he could. All he had been able to. And that would never be enough to make you stay. Simon's eyes were growing red, but he tried to keep himself strong. It had only been hours after you died, and he was already questioning everything.

"I'll remember you." He said, to no one. He thought of all of the times he tried to help you, the pictures you sent him. The jokes. the little conversations you shared. He couldn't believe it. Simon tried to dial you, to call you, to call for an answer. But he knew that there was nothing he could do now. Nothing but hope that heaven was real. Nothing but hope that he would see you again. Nothing but hope that this was all a horrible joke, a sick nightmare.

The photos of the sunset, the cat, the moon, all lay in front of him. They looked like a cruel joke. Like reality's cruellest and sickest joke of all.

You weren't supposed to end.

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farfromstrange · 26 days

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‘I Love You In Every Universe’

Chapter One: I Bet On Losing Dogs

Masterlist | List Of Installments

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Mutant!Reader

Summary: The day you lost Matt, you lost everything. There is no moving on from what Spider-Man put you through, and you plan to execute your revenge.

Warnings: ANGST, Major Character Death, blood, suicidal thoughts, mutant!Reader, evil Peter Parker, 18+ because of darker themes, multiverse (No Way Home Era), slight AU

Word Count: 5.8k

A/n: FINALLY! This took me way too long to edit. Today, we’re setting the scene for future installments, but you’re not getting all the details, even if the first 3000 words of this are somewhat a flashback. So, if you think that there is too little dialogue for a Prologue, that’s probably why. This chapter is integral to the future installments.

Read Me On AO3!

The world was silent when he died—an endless pit of nothingness, and above a sky full of stars.

You don’t remember if it was raining. The moon was hiding behind a thick cloud, and the stars were burning, but you can’t remember if you were drowning in a river of tears or if it was the sky that broke that night. Everything else about that night, you remember quite vividly.

Hell’s Kitchen had become a battleground. The city lay at your feet in shambles; Wilson Fisk had become mayor after you tried hard to stop him, and the world fell apart. But it was his second in command, Peter Parker, who gave new meaning to the word ‘notorious’. Spider-Man infested your home like a parasite, slipping through your finger like dry sand. He knew what he was doing. He and Fisk held the city in the palms of their dirty hands, slowly crushing it like mealy little ants.

When you met Matt Murdock, it was years back when things were still better, yet they were never perfect. He found you broken at the side of the road—or that was what it felt like, anyway.

From the start, you have always been different. In a world where everyone wanted to be someone, your uniqueness painted a target on your back. Your nature was misunderstood by most; they either wanted to be you, or they were vying for your inevitable downfall.

You stood out of every crowd. The target on your back remained no matter how hard you tried to turn yourself into a shrouded mystery. Eventually, you had to start running. You operated out of the dark like a criminal—a vigilante, and a mind-reader who could set the world on fire if she only tried hard enough.

For most of your life, you were hunted. Scientists wanted to run experiments on you, tie you to a gurney, and study your brain until they understood how your abilities worked. Freaks wanted to sell you for millions to equally disturbed individuals.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You were merely a scared child who grew into a terrified teenager who didn’t know any better: dead parents, dead everything, and a mind built to read those of others.

Back then, your only instinct was blatant survival, so you ran. You ran fast and you ran far, an orphan so many would have rather seen dead than operating in the dark, but oh, you had to become something to feel like you were worth something.

When you landed in New York, beaten and alone with a bone-crushing fear of the future, the Devil found you, taking you home with him. He saved you. He picked up your pieces, glued you back together, and wrapped you in a protective glaze. All the heartbreak you’d endured, and the trauma you’d suffered getting there seemed worth it whenever he held you in his arms.

You were Matt Murdock’s world, and he was yours. He showed you heaven and hell; he saved you from the purgatory you pushed yourself into and got you settled with a one-way ticket to paradise. After all these years, you finally found your salvation in a person.

He was your broken Catholic boy with a heart made out of gold. The universe didn’t deserve him, and yet he gave the world everything he had. He sacrificed his soul to God and his city. He prayed, he begged, and he fought hard for what he believed right at the time.

Matt saw himself as the Devil; embodied him, too. Though in your eyes, he was an angel with an invisible halo only you could feel in every fiber of your being. His thoughts, his heart, and his soul; he gave it all to you.

You cherished him with all you could give him. It wasn’t much, but he loved you more than anyone had ever before. You were more than a mutant, more than a broken girl at the side of the road, and more than a potential test subject. With him, you finally learned what living was like—what it was supposed to feel like to be human.

The world tried to clip your wings. They took away your voice and your ability to breathe. Matt brought you back to life. He was not the love of your life; Matt Murdock was your soulmate. You lived for him. You existed for him. He was your heart, your soul, and the reason for your survival.

It wasn’t healthy, how dependent you were on him. He made you see colors you couldn’t see with anyone else. You loved him fiercely. You loved him in a way that was pure agony. And you loved him in a way that you knew would screw you up forever.

It didn’t cross your mind that you could ever lose him. To you, Matt Murdock was immortal. He was the man you could see yourself growing old with.

You got married in a small ceremony at the courthouse—it wasn’t just for love, it was also convenient, but he forever tied himself to you as you tied yourself to him with a golden wedding band—and you talked about maybe having children one day. A mini-you and a mini-him in your little farmhouse in the suburbs. For that, he would have left Hell’s Kitchen once it was safe enough to do so.

It was a foolish dream now that you think about it; you were foolish to think that happiness would ever be in the cards for you, but then he kissed you again, good morning and good night and in between, and all you could see was a sea of roses.

He walked through fire (sometimes literally) for you and came back on the other side, hardly always unscathed but always alive, and always with a smile on his chapped lips. He crawled home to you even when he was broken. He crawled home to you when he was full of adrenaline. And he crawled home to you when he thought he couldn’t or wouldn’t anymore, both mentally and physically. He knew he could always come home to you, his best friend, his lover, his confidant, and soon enough, his wife.

You stitched his wounds and kissed his scars to breathe new life into him. You brought him back from the edge. You gave him something to live for. He told you that you saved him, and hearing that after getting on your knees every night, thanking him for the same thing, did something to you. It healed you from the inside out.

You kept him alive the same way he did you. You stood strong together against your enemies every night, fighting as a team. He taught you how to fight, and you taught him how to connect. Matt didn’t know what it was like not to push someone he loved away, but you made sure he understood. He connected to himself; he connected to his past, present, and future with you, and that made him a better man.

You lost and you won, but at least you had each other to fall back on. You did it together. You did everything together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife. Lady Red and Daredevil.

The fragile little yet oh-so-big thing you had was raw, vulnerable, yet the most tragically beautiful love affair you could have possibly had the pleasure of calling yours. And pleasure, you had plenty. Love, you had plenty. You had everything until everything was ripped from your bare hands—until the very thing sustaining you shattered on a white cloth, spilling crimson blood everywhere, and what you swore could only be pried from your cold, dead hands slipped away in a moment in time.

You both died, in a way, but it was Matt’s body you held as he took his last breaths in the dead of a hot summer’s night. You can’t remember if it rained, but he was certainly drowning in your tears.

“He’s going to kill you,” you warned him. “Parker and Fisk are out to destroy you. If Spider-Man sees you with your guard down, he won’t hesitate.”

Matt slid his skilled fingers into his pair of leather gloves. They were worn down, but they smelled like him. You could feel the unease sizzling in the pit of your stomach—a parasite.

“I have to do this,” he told you, his voice laden. “The bastard is ruining innocent lives in my city. I can’t stand idly by and let it happen.”

You weren’t fighting, but the statement still hung deafeningly loud in the room, hanging itself from the ceiling with a noose that was threatening to take you down with it.

“He challenged you because he knows you’d do anything—”

He cut you off, “He’s underestimating me.”

You stared into his eyes. It hurt. It hurt so much. The dark cloud was heading straight for you, but he couldn’t sense it. “You almost died the last time you came face-to-face with him,” you tried again.

“So did you,” he said. “Fisk is nothing without Spider-Man behind him, and those two have done enough damage already.”

“Matt, please—”

“I have to, sweetheart. This is the only way.”

“There is always another way.”

He shook his head. “Not this time. The city is about to fall. If I let them win, there is no coming back from this. You know that.”

“At least let me come with you then,” you said. You begged him to listen, but he wouldn’t see how worried you were. “We’ve been through hell together. We can fight this war together, too.”

“No,” Matt insisted. “He will see an easy target. You mean too much to me. Spider-Man is gonna use you to get through to me. I can do this. You just have to trust me.”

“I trust you. It’s him I don’t.”

“I’m gonna talk to him, and if I have to fight him again for the whole fucking world to see, so be it.”

The words slipped you before you could stop them, cutting through the air like a sharp-edged sword. “What if you die trying?”

He stopped dead in his tracks.

“I don’t want to lose you!” you cried.

You had not cried in front of him often before that night, but your walls cracked, and you broke.

Matt cradled your face as he whispered, begging you to listen, “You won’t. I promise. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

The invisible string pulled you tighter together. Fear, anger, and desperation; he felt so many things—so many things running deeper than the ocean—but you swallowed them.

“I’m not okay with this,” you murmured.

“I know. Here–” he guided your hands to his face, “Feel me,” he said.

You remember gasping when the floodgates opened. “I always feel you.”

You stroked his delicate cheeks. He was here, home with you; why couldn’t he stay like that forever? Why did you have to let him go? Past, present, and future began to blur.

I love you. He tuned out all other thoughts so you could hear him.

He was praying. He was hoping. Only a handful of times had he felt this way. You were so tightly interlaced that you could feel all of him without even trying, but that night, you tried. That night, he tuned out all of his self-deprecating thoughts. He allowed the silence of your connection to engulf him—for the city to disappear, and he allowed you in.

I love you so much. Do you hear me? You’re everything to me. I love you.

Those three words weighed heavy like bricks on your heart.

“Remember, three knocks,” he said aloud. “Don’t open for anyone else.”

“Three knocks,” you whispered in agreement.

Three knocks like three words: I love you.

You read his mind, swallowing the words, but a big part of you wanted to spit them back out. You didn’t want to hear it. The universe was sending you a warning sign.

Matt exhaled. He cupped your hands in his. The connection deepened, the string pulled tighter, and you became one. That night was the first night you saw glimpses of the future, and you didn’t want to accept it. You were such a fool to think everything could ever be fucking alright, both for you and for this magnificent force of a man you chose to call home—because home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling, and often enough, it’s a person.

He nuzzled his nose against yours. He kissed you. Softly, gently, passionately. You kissed him like you knew it would be the last time.

“I love you,” he repeated.

The red flags waved, but you looked away. “I don’t want to say it back because you have to come back to me,” you confessed, “and this feels too much like a goodbye.”

He forced you to look at him instead. “Say it back, baby.”

“I love you,” you caved.

You shouldn’t have. You should have put up more of a fight.

I will always come back to you. Cross my heart. He crossed his heart, but he hoped too much to die. Perhaps in not saying it out loud, he thought the truth would hurt less.

You refused to believe it until time had run out. You refused to cave until it happened. And when it happened, the city, for the first time since you’d arrived there, went completely quiet.

You followed him. Of course, you did. After a few hours of pacing the floor, you followed him. He was still in your head. You heard him from across the city, his thoughts loud and clear, and you could feel his pain like an inferno lighting up the night sky.

When you arrived on that godforsaken rooftop though, you could only watch in horror as Spider-Man lifted the love of your life toward the sky. He wouldn’t accept your bargain. You offered yourself instead of him, but no; Peter Parker was not in the mood for bargaining.

He lifted Matt toward the sky, and he drilled the dagger right through his chest.

“No!” you screamed again.

Silence.

His blood ran through your fingers like quicksand, and sitting there, cradling Matt’s chest to yours as his heartbeat slowly faded into oblivion, you knew the end was near. The world could be so fucking unfair. You both died, but it was only his heart that stopped. You lost him that night, and your entire world stopped in an instant.

You liked it better when he was angry with you. When he was loud, when he was laughing, even when he was just being sarcastic. You liked him better when he was alive. He turned into a ghost in your arms, forever and all eternity, and you fell face-first into the abyss.

Maybe it was raining that night. Maybe you were being buried under the weight of your guilt and the never-ending flow of your tears.

“I can’t…” you sobbed, tracing his cold cheek as the rain fell around you. “I can’t feel you.”

His heart stopped beating, and the invisible string pulverized. You watched it as it went with the wind. Without him. Without you.

You screamed until your lungs gave out. Then, silence settled in.

The night was quiet when he died; nothing but a sky full of stars and the endless black pit of death above and below you.

The blood and his missing pulse weren’t the worst part, by far; the worst part was that you could no longer feel him, and that thought won’t ever not haunt you.

You were certain that night. When you lost him, and you screamed your heart out, praying to a God you’ve never believed in, you swore to yourself that you would avenge him.

You were going to kill Peter Parker, and nothing in this world could ever stop you from watching this miserable motherfucker bleed to death.

The bed shakes violently as you awaken. Dreams, so many dreams. Your nights are far from peaceful. They haven’t been for weeks. Months. What day is it? You don’t remember.

Nightmares follow you like hunters after a fox. Your pajamas stick to your skin, and you’re sweating even though it is spring, and spring doesn’t have hot enough temperatures for you to be sweating quite like this. When you pull the comforter away in a sudden panic, the wetness seeping into your skin, there is nothing but white. No blood, no tears, just gaping emptiness in the farmhouse.

You pant heavily, dragging your nails across your skin. Your fingernails are tinted a charcoal black. In your heart, there had once been a bright red glow—like a ruby crystal sustaining your soul. You used it to channel other people’s thoughts. You could read them, you could hear them, and you could feel them. That Ruby has gone out now though; it has turned into a black smoke threatening to overtake anything it comes in contact with.

The sun isn’t strong enough to break through the gray clouds. As you step out into the garden that stretches around your home, a gentle wind brushes through the bare branches of the dead trees. The wood is starting to splinter, turning hollow as sickness after sickness runs rampant through nature.

You trace a finger over the poison ivy that has grown over the tombstone. The green fades, turning into a rotten brown. It dries out, and it dies right before your eyes, as do the roses you have been keeping in a vase ever since you laid a finger on the last bouquet.

He liked the smell of roses, but you hated the look of it until Matt died, and suddenly, everything looked and smelled like a field of roses, reminding you of him. He was your daisy, your sunflower, setting fire to your freezing soul. He was sunshine, you were midnight rain. He liked to claim differently, but you wouldn’t let him. You may have been his sunshine, but out of the both of you, he shone the brightest.

The poison ivy dies, and if you even manage to kill a plant with the word ‘poison’ in its name, what does that say about you? What has become of you; plotting a stranger’s death and killing the nature around you as you dive into books about mind-reading and dark magic to understand who you truly are? Dark magic sounds like a story out of a piece of fiction, but it’s far from that.

You’ve known of your ability to manipulate the human mind ever since you discovered the creature hidden within you, the one who could touch another human being and see their thoughts so clearly. The one time you tried to manipulate someone, you caused them indescribably agony. You ruined their life. You broke them. You made them complicit and took all they were away from them, turning their fragile mind into ashes. That day, your fingers turned charcoal for the first time.

If you try hard enough, you can kill him—Peter Parker. He took your husband and your city, now sitting in his ivory tower, overlooking the damage he’s done. He killed everyone and everything, even Wilson Fisk. He has taken the people of Hell’s Kitchen hostage, but no one has dared to make a move just yet, not since their beloved Daredevil disappeared off the face of the earth. With him, his Lady Red went as fast as she had come.

You don’t want to fix what Spider-Man destroyed; you can’t get back what he took, nor do you want to, and the city doesn’t mean anything without Matt in it.

You have to be the monster to kill another monster, only then you can join your husband in his tomb. Didn’t you vow to stay together, even in death?

The city can burn, for all you care, but first, Peter Parker has to die.

You scratch at the dirt in the engraving of his name. Matthew Michael Murdock. 1982 — 2023. Beloved husband and hero.

You hate this. You hate that his grave is in your backyard, but this was the only place you knew his corpse would be safest. No one can touch him here, and you can talk to him, pretending you can still feel him. If you focus hard enough, you can still hear his voice in your head, telling you to move on.

How could you though? How could you abandon all you’ve been through? You can fight, you can win or lose, but nothing will ever be the same again. And it is far from worth it to stay alive when he isn’t. You’ve made your decision; whether or not you’ve come to peace with it, that’s another story entirely.

“Tonight is the night,” you murmur to the gravestone. Of course, you don’t receive an answer.

Lately, you have been swearing to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, that there are no more tears left to shed, but every day, you end up crying anyway. It’s an endless cycle of despair.

You wipe your cheeks, untangling the chain that holds your golden wedding band close to your chest from around your neck. Gently, you guide it to your lips and press a kiss against the ring.

“I love you,” you whisper.

For when you meet again in another life.

You dig a small hole into the dry dirt where, six feet under, Matt is resting now. He always told you he would end up in hell when he died. You were never particularly religious before you met him, and when he struggled with his faith while you were together, you believed even less in an all-merciful God. Now though, with Matt gone and the world on the verge of falling apart and crushing you under its weight as you approach the biggest challenge of your life, the thought of ending up in an eternal life of nothingness after death—the thought of there being nothing but mindless darkness, no body, soul—scares you too much. Imagining the pits of hell or paradise with the love of your life, and reuniting with him, is a prospect you would rather see when you close your eyes than a world on fire.

The necklace lands in the hole, and you cover it up. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of your ring before, but you won’t risk carrying it when you do what you are about to do.

Tonight, Peter Parker is going to show himself to all of New York City as the new mayor in all of his Spider-Man glory. He begged for you to come out, and he told the city he would be merciful in prosecuting you for the crimes you committed in the past alongside Daredevil. When you come out tonight though, you won’t surrender yourself. You will use the platform he is giving you and you will fight as you reveal him to Hell’s Kitchen and show the world who he is. You will tell Matt’s story, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You have been burning for him for the longest time, and the flame is about to go out with a bang.

That night, you put on the red suit Melvin made for you years ago before he lost his mind for what might be the last time. It has holes from where the moths dug their teeth into. The piece around the waist is starting to fade in color, and the leather is worn out, but it reminds you of simpler times. Better times. The black of your fingertips matches the lining of your outfit, and that’s all you need to feel the power sizzle deep within you.

You don’t have to remember the weather report because you can feel the rain soaking your skin through the fabric. The air smells salty, and it tastes the same on your cracked lips. Tonight, you will be Lady Red for the last time. Until the bitter end, you have sworn yourself. Matt did the same thing. You have to do him proud.

You make your way from that little farmhouse—your broken red castle—to the familiar streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Destruction surrounds you. The news didn’t do justice to what Peter has done to the city you once loved. But no one loved it more than Matt Murdock.

Your fists clench at your sides. Oh, you want to tear this man limb by limb and feed him to the dogs.

It starts with a low rumbling beneath your boots. You don’t pay much mind to it at first. You hide out on a rooftop across the courthouse. The spotlights are on, and he’s standing there at the podium, looking as though he is so proud of himself for ruining so many lives. You don’t usually experience joy when hurting people, but you will savor watching the life drain from Peter’s lifeless eyes.

Your hands clench around Matt’s batons. The metal is heavy but flexible. You click your nails against them. Every move needs to be meticulously calculated, but tonight, the barons will remain in the holsters on your thighs. You won’t need them. You won’t need anything but your bare hands.

You’re going back to your roots tonight.

The ground moves slightly, only a few inches. You could have missed it if you weren’t crouching to get a better look at the world below you. You catch yourself on the ledge, a frown finding its way on your face.

“What the f–” you shake your head. Since when does thunder shake the ground?

You seem to be the only one who notices, or Peter Parker is better at brainwashing his decibels than you expected. He was born to be a dictator. His presence turned your fairytale into a dystopian tragedy.

“Tonight,” he says into his microphone, “is the last chance for Lady Red to reveal herself for a lesser sentence. A new era is on the horizon. I am your mayor, and I am Spider-Man. Without me, you would be nothing. Daredevil couldn’t save you. Wilson Fisk couldn’t save you. But I can, and after tonight, we will start anew. For this is the era of real heroes as we rebuild this city from the ground up, and we turn the City of New York, including Hell’s Kitchen, into its own world. Starting with the arrest of the criminal who is Daredevil’s accomplice Lady Red. I hope for her sake she will show herself tonight. If not, we will find her, and she will suffer the full extent of the consequences of her actions. That includes the Death Penalty.”

You land gracefully, catching yourself with your hand on the asphalt. The crowd parts with a gasp, and you finally stare into his eyes.

After he drilled that dagger through Matt’s heart, he told you, “You will always be a monster, never a God.”

You deserve nothing, he thought. It has stuck with you since that night. Growing up, it was the only thing you heard. You were nothing but trash. A disgrace. A monster. What will they say when they see that you have finally become what they feared so much?

You will burn down whatever is left of the world, including him. God knows you want to.

Magic pulsates in the atmosphere like a growing spell in a small shoe box. The air vibrates, and the ground shakes again. This isn’t your doing, but the sudden charge that fills your veins as adrenaline sustains you. Your eyes glow red. This is who you were born to be.

“I heard you were looking for me,” you declare.

He doesn’t look surprised to see you. “Ah, just like clockwork,” he murmurs. “Are you going to make this hard on all of us or are you here to finally surrender yourself?”

You purse your lips, playing with the energy between your fingers. “I came to destroy you.” Each step toward him on the big marble steps feels like a mile, and the crowd starts to move further back, dispersing in an attempt to save themselves. Most of them are eager to watch though. What has he done to them?

“Destroy me?” Peter laughs, addressing the crowd again, “You see who you’ve been calling a hero all this time? This mutant? Look at her!”

All eyes are on you. They’re whispering. They’re speculating. Their thoughts overlap in disarray, and you’re drowning in a sea of judgment. They are trying to tear you down like sharks. You’re leaking blood, and God, they are angry. But it’s not you they’re angry at.

“You call me a mutant,” you say, “but wasn’t it you who was bit by a radioactive spider?”

His smile fades.

“You are Spider-Man, no?”

“You are a wannabe hero with unregulated powers,” he snaps. His voice roars through the speakers, and the mood in the crowd starts to shift.

The ground vibrates again, stronger this time. You can’t be the only one feeling the quakes, but everyone else seems unmoved. They’re too focused on both of you to notice anything else, and you should do the same. However, the energy doubles and you are closer to bursting than ever. Something is happening, and you have no control over it.

Peter sneers. “You’re a failure,” he calls your name, “just like your husband!”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your eyes darken. “If you want to enforce the death penalty on me, Parker,” you growl, “why don’t you do it yourself?”

Peter taps his chest, and his suit transforms into shades of black and spider webs. At that moment, panic erupts. People start running, but you tune them out.

The air begins to smell sour. Burnt. It is so high the pain consumes you whole. He doesn’t have to touch you to bring you to your knees, but looking up, you realize that it wasn’t Spider-Man who infused your ears with such a high frequency.

Someone is uttering a powerful spell, you can hear his voice in your head as he thinks of several names all over the place. Time passes by in a flash. Hours, days, weeks, and months. The universe falls out of control. The beeping picks up and you sink deeper into the ground.

You swear then and there that the sky starts to rip in two. The sky resembles a nasty cut on your forehead, a pair of hands ripping the cut further apart, causing the blood to pour out in rivers.

One of the cuts swallows you. With a scream, you fall through several rollercoasters passing by violet stars.

The cut is a portal; one moment, you are flying through the sky at the highest possible speed, and the next, you hit the ground hard.

It’s not raining anymore. The sun shines down on you, and the heat creeps up your skin like tiny ants. The pain finally releases, but your head is still spinning. So many feelings, so many voices, and so many thoughts threaten to overwhelm you.

Not even an LSD trip hits that bad. You lazily open your heavy eyes to find not the courthouse but the New York skyline right before you.

You look down at your shaky hands. The charcoal is gone. The power in your veins feels different, all-consuming, but in no way bad. You take a deep breath. Even the oxygen tastes different.

The world stops spinning, and you finally take a look around. A car honks, an SUV heading straight for your wobbly frame.

You’re in the middle of a road. What is it? A freeway.

Oh, shit!

You jump aside, hitting the sidewalk with a loud thud.

“Watch out, bitch!” the driver shouts out of his window.

Where once used to be the courthouse, you are met with a street in the middle of downtown Hell’s Kitchen, New York. Stores line the side of the street. Tourists, foreigners, and those who are native to the city pass by you, and their gasps and whispers sound so different from the automatic voices Peter Parker raised them to be.

“Oh, no,” you breathe out. “Oh, no, no, no!” The air is getting thinner.

“What are you thinking about, hm?” he asked into the darkness of the room.

His heartbeat aligned with yours. His calloused fingertips traced your bare skin. You were in heaven. Beautiful, sinful heaven.

His jawline appeared even sharper in the colorful lights from the billboard outside. His skin glowed white—paler than usual, even. You could stare into his eyes forever, such a beautiful hazel with hints of forest green. Perfect eyebrows, perfect lips. They bowed at the top, so kissable.

He pressed them to your bare shoulder blade, down your spine. The butterflies danced crazy in your tummy.

“You’re distracted,” he hummed again.

You chuckled, looking over your shoulder at the beautiful man in bed with you.

“Can’t help it when I’m with you,” you remember saying.

Matt offered you his signature smirk. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I quite like the view.”

“And when I do this?” He trailed another finger down your sensitive spine.

You shuddered. “That, too.”

He did it again. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“Thinking,” you said.

“About what?” he asked.

“A book I read.” You paused to turn on your back. “About the multiverse.”

It was a surprising change in subject, and he raised his eyebrows in a rather amused way. “The multiverse?”

You nodded. “We know way too little about it. There could be more of me and more of you out there, and we don’t even know it,” you told him. “The multiverse… there is a chance it could be real. And that alone is terrifying because if it opens and we’re not prepared, chaos might ensue.”

He propped himself up on his elbow next to you, listening to the calming sound of your voice. It was always his favorite thing to do.

Matt used your voice as his podcast; it was his favorite, too.

“Can we jump universes?” he wondered.

You shrugged. You didn’t know, at least not at the time. “Maybe,” you said. “But I’m not a scientist, let alone good at physics, so… let’s just go back to kissing. I’m much better at that.”

He laughed, but he did not object. At least with kissing, you both knew what you were doing. So, he brought his lips to yours, and the multiverse disappeared in a Bermuda Triangle of pleasure in your mind. Lost but not forgotten.

Maybe.

But as you sit there, sliding back against the brick wall in the closest alley, you realize that you downplayed the probability.

You were going to kill a man, but instead of blood on your hands, you are now cursed with the knowledge that the ‘maybe’ of your once-thought-silly pillow talk has always been very fucking real, and you have nowhere to run in this strange world you have fallen into that is New York City, Earth-616.

Where do you run when you can go anywhere, just not home?

Tagging: @nk1023 @sarahskywalker-amidala @ignore-mp3 @imonabitchparade @familyvideowithsteve @eyelessdemon

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #angst no happy ending #daredevil #daredevil x reader #mutant reader #i love you in every universe #charlie cox

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kaicubus · 10 months

Text

Stains We Can’t Remove | Wayne M.

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊

warnings ✩° : angst no happy ending, cursing, angry wayne, trauma responses, hurt/no comfort, wayne not listening to reader, wayne’s mommy issues, spoilers kinda for the series, wayne WANTS to go after reader but doesn’t.

pairing ✩° : wayne mccullough x fem!reader

premise ✩° : wayne’s mom isn’t a perfect person, that’s pretty obvious to you and everyone around you. everyone but wayne, who gets defensive when you start to question his true place in her life after talking with her.

word count ✩° : 3.3k

authors note ✩° : this may get a part 2 but i had to leave it on a cliffhanger you know me teheh...anyways this uhm this really hurt my soul but i like doing angst no comfort until you guys come at me with knives demanding a part 2. so until then!

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Maureen smelt like cigarettes.

Usually, people make an effort to mask the scent when they come back in for a short smoke break, knowing how most people find the smell revolting, dousing themselves in cheap perfume or body spray or even take off the clothes they were wearing that the smoke latched onto. But Maureen didn’t care. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

That’s just the kind of person Maureen McNulty was.

You had to admit, it bothered you seeing Wayne so attached to a mother who clearly didn’t give a damn about her son, in fact you’ve never seen anything like it before. In the short amount of time you’ve known her, you’ve seen Wayne’s mom force a smile and laugh with him like it’d been her dream to see Wayne after so long, out of the blue despite being the one to leave him since all these years. And seeing a look of hopefulness on your boyfriends face when she told him how much she missed him made something inside of you bubble with anger, knowing that all Wayne was to her was that certain stench of smoke she couldn’t be bothered getting rid of or even spare a passing glance.

Of course, you didn’t want to break Wayne’s spirits. After all, it was the first time in a long time Wayne had something else besides you to live for. He had his friend Orlando, sure, but Orlando wasn’t considered family. He was just someone Wayne bad to protect.

You fall under that category as well, but on a more intimate level. This was the first time though, that Wayne could be protected—comforted—by someone else. He could finally take shelter and relax in the arms of his mother, family he had been deprived of for so long.

But how could you relax seeing all the false, squinted smiles that told lies of ‘i love you’ and ‘i want you to stay here forever’, even taking it as far as showing him baby pictures of himself that Maureen had conveniently kept but ‘accidentally’ hidden away.

It didn’t help that you had overheard Maureen one day talking to her husband, who seemed to be frustrated with the sudden two additions in his household. You could hear the way his loud, angry voice, echoed throughout the halls and since it was only you three home and Wayne and Reggie were out ‘bonding’, you heard everything very clearly.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“Ok! Fine! You know what! Yeah, he’s a little annoying and clingy and following me around everywhere, but he was like that when he was a kid! Give him a damn break!” You heard her say, followed by a large clattering noise from her husband knocking his fist into the wall causing a painting to tumble down.

“I don’t care if you think he’s your little fuckin’ baby, Maureen! He’s not my son and I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea! I want him out of my house as soon as possible, otherwise I’m just going to throw him on the street along with his skanky girlfriend too!”

“Don’t you call my son’s girlfriend a skank!” You liked that she defended you, “But, you’re right. I can’t have my past follow me around like some puppy dog. It’s not right. I just…give me time to break the news to him gently. I’ll tell him to back his bags. He’ll be gone real soon, babe.”

And that was it. Then Wayne and Reggie came home and Maureen pretended to act normal again, flying above Wayne’s radar and tricking him into thinking he can stay with his mom. It didn’t even matter if Maureen opened her arms to both you and Wayne and let you both inside of her home, because to you, it didn’t matter at all if all she was going to do was go back on her word and make you guys leave, breaking Wayne’s heart all over again. What also hurt was that Maureen was nothing like Wayne; She was actually fun, well spirited, unlike Wayne who barley spoke two words to her when he saw her again, while she spoke novels. It was interesting seeing the two interact, but it didn’t change the fact that none of it was real.

You just had to tell him what he failed to see. And you were going to do it tonight.

When the time came, you could hardly ignore the rapid beating pounding inside of your chest. The whole time you stood there, waiting for everyone to go outside or leave the house was spent pondering over every single thought in your head, debating on if this was truly a good idea and rehearsing what you wanted to say to him. Telling Wayne straight up that his mom didn’t love him and actually just wanted him out was completely out of the picture, so you had to lay it down slowly and sugar coat the hell out of it and pray he’d understand.

When everyone finally leaves, Maureen’s husband outside in their garage, Reggie out with friends, and Maureen smoking a pack outside by a bonfire, you tug your boyfriend back into the dining room and sit him down across from you. Wayne, who appears to be already over the moon from having a private conversation with you, smiles curiously at what you have to say, batting his eyes at you curiously when you just stare at him saying nothing.

“Wayne I have to tell you something.” You start off easy, folding your hands onto the table and looking anywhere but his eyes, “It’s...it’s kind of hard for me to do this, but. I think I should really tell you.”

Wayne’s eyes don’t leave yours for a second, giving you his full attention with that same hopeful smile he’s had all week. That only makes it harder for you to get your words out, and unfortunately, they do.

“Wayne, I don’t think your mom is who she says she is.” You hold onto your thighs and look up at your boyfriend through your lashes.

It takes a moment for him to process the statement in his head, but it doesn’t register. He looks up with a confused expression, with one of his eyebrows arched and squinted eyes, “She’s not my mom?”

“No, Wayne, she is your mom,” You laugh a bit, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders with his innocent question, “But I don’t think she’s as…perfect, or even motherly like you think she is. I mean, you’ve seen how she raised Reggie.”

“Reggie has a shit father, Y/n, I’d blame that more on him than my mom.” Wayne points out, “And yeah, my mom’s not going to be perfect, no moms are. But, she’s trying her hardest, and I got to see her, so I think that’s good.”

He wasn’t getting it.

You let out a short sigh and scoot closer to him, gently moving your hand to the center of the table where you could comfortably meet halfway and hold his hands. “Wayne, It’s not about her being a good mom or not.” You say gently, “It’s more about her not...wanting to be a mom to you.”

“That’s crazy, Y/n. I’m her son. I was here first. That don’t make no sense.” Wayne shakes his head and laughs under his breath.

“I know, I know baby. But I heard her talking, when you and Reggie were out. She was in the other room, and well,” Your shoulders fall, “She said she didn’t...she didn’t think it was a wise decision to keep past...personal assets in her...new life...” That was the best way you could put such horrible news. In a way, you understood the feelings Wayne must be going through; No child would want to be told from someone that their mom was talking shit behind their back, especially when that mom left them when they were just a kid and left no explanation saying why or even bothering to leave behind some lame excuse. To your knowledge, Maureen never told Wayne she was going to grab some milk and be right back, instead she just left one day and never returned.

The more you tried to spell it out for him though, the more confused he got. You were already dancing around the issue and trying to sugar coat it as best as you could, but his expression tells it all: he has no clue of what you’re trying to say. Wayne wrinkles his brows in utter confusion and stares at you, his smile fading away the more you stammer on.

“Look, Wayne. When you were gone, I heard her talking to her husband, he was all mad and whatever that we were staying here.”

“So? We’ll just move near by, my mom probably knows a place we can crash and we’d be out of his hair.”

Your back stiffens, “N-No, Wayne, he doesn’t want us—you—here, period. I’m not family, and I’ll have to go back some time. He knows that, and so do you. But I’m talking about you and your mom.”

Wayne re-positions his hands separately from yours and clasps them together tightly, rubbing his calloused thumbs over each other in thought. “What, uh. What else did he say?” His watchful eyes crawl back up to yours.

“He said that you’re not his son, and your mom agreed, and therefore he doesn’t want you in his house.” You look down nervously. If there was one thing you knew about Wayne, it would be that he talks a lot, just not in words. When Wayne holds a conversation, he doesn’t speak all too much, instead he pays attention to the person talking, mimicking their movements, and using body language to talk—hands to express his levels of comfort, eye contact to silently communicate, and his posture to dictate his attention—you can tell what he’s thinking just by looking at him. The body tells a lot of secrets the mouth won’t, but it was no secret that Wayne hated this conversation.

He hated everything about thinking his mom isn’t who she says she is or how his 5-year old mind remembers her. Instead of the woman who brought him toys and taught him how to read and decipher shapes, who cooked him and his father meals especially warm tomato soup on rainy days, your words were practically shredding that woman down to someone who doesn’t care one bit about him, who would and did leave him because she couldn’t care less. But Wayne tries his best not to show it all too much.

“What else?” He drums his fingers on top of the table and glances down too.

“She told him, she doesn’t want her past following her around like some...” Your lip curls, knowing what’s coming next would utterly destroy him, “...some sad puppy dog.” and it does.

Wayne feels your shoe turn and nudge him when he goes silent for too long, his body voided of any kind of language and instead replaced by nothing at all, but he doesn’t react. How could his own mother, he thought, think of him as some helpless dog when he did everything to hell and back to try and find something so dear to him? He rolls his head forward and allows the shadows of the flickering light above trace over his nose and forehead.

“Wayne..?” You say softly, softer than you ever have before. You fear that the slightest bit of volume could send him destroying everything around him, knowing that’s all he wants to do right now. The static in Wayne’s mind suddenly starts to fizz, jumping from a background noise right to all he can hear. The sound fills his ears and it fills his ears fast, leaving him no time to think.

“No.” Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n. My mom wouldn’t do that to me, she wouldn’t say that to nobody. Not her kid, especially not me. She wouldn’t compare me to no dog. Why’d you say that..?”

Suddenly, your words were stolen from you. Was he really shifting the blame onto you? There was some misunderstanding. “No, that’s not it,” You lurch forward and try to catch his wrists to assure him you’re telling the truth, but he rips them away from you before you get the chance, “Wayne, I’m not lying to you. I heard how she talked about you.”

“Yeah, well clearly you didn’t hear right!” Wayne shouts. His abrupt change in tone makes you jump right back into your seat, eyes wide from how easy it was to yell at you, and it even shakes the table. Or maybe that was because of how hard he was gripping it in that moment. Still, you look at Wayne in shock, fear, and some lingering taste in the back of your tongue of anger.

“What are you talking about?! Wayne, I heard her say that shit! Why would I fucking lie about that?”

Wayne shrugs harshly, “I dunno, maybe you wanna like, split us up or somethin’? I don’t know! I do know that my mom wouldn’t call me a damn dog, following her around.”

“You might not want to believe it, but that’s what she said. I’m saving you from a whole world of pain, Wayne. Imagine if she was the one to tell you? You’d believe her since it was coming out of her mouth, so why is it so different when I tell you out of mine?!” His words hit you like a truck right into your chest. You wanted to defend yourself and explain to him that the truth was evident, but Wayne just keeps shoving.

“You don’t know my mom, ok?”

“And you do?! You didn’t even know why she left you until she came up with some lame excuse so you wouldn’t keep pressing her for answers!”

Wayne stands up and balls his fists tightly. If there was anything distracting himself from the pain splitting his heart in two, it was the biting sensation of his nails digging crescents into his already scarred palm. “What? You think you know her just by lookin’ at her? You’ve only known her for a couple days, but I’ve been here with her, in a photo album or a wallet—she knows about me! She understands me, and I’m happy to be here with her. Why is that so hard for you to understand, Y/n?”

There’s a pause, a moments of hesitation, before you speak. In that moment, you stare at the way Wayne’s chest falls heavily, heaving with guilt and burden, knowing as much as his anger consumes him, the last thing he wants to do is yell at you. Your eyes flicker away from his for a second, catching a glimpse of all the photos and picture frames hanging on the walls of Maureen, her husband, and Reggie. Reggie’s baby pictures, her and her husband out on an anniversary date wrangling gators, Reggie grinning ear to ear holding up a gold club and soon after, a beer. Your eyes scan over all the memories this family has where they seem so well put together, one would even say, happy and loving.

Maureen was there, sure, displaying her crafts and small businesses she’s worked on over the years, and her husband was always in a picture with his eyes red because of the flash and holding something up to show, and then there was Reggie. There was nothing of Wayne. Not even a small picture on the fridge.

Wayne said that his photos were locked away, secret, but all that told you was that Maureen was ashamed of her past, and even more ashamed of him. If Wayne failed to see that, there was nothing more you could do. You had already lost to her.

Maybe you’d wish you hadn’t brought it up, or somehow made Maureen tell him himself so this didn’t make you seem like a liar trying to tear Wayne apart from his mom. You only wanted to let him know. Your eyes return back to him, and shamefully, you give him a half-hearted smile. “What I understand, Wayne, is that she’s not ready to be your mother. And frankly, I don’t think she ever was, and that’s why she left you. You’re holding onto something that doesn’t want to be held onto.”

Wayne falls silent. “Then I don’t think I want to be the one to hold onto you anymore.”

Your head flips back up, your brows furrowing. Now more than ever, it felt like your world seemed to shatter right beneath your feet. Those few words stung like burning needles stabbing right into your gut as the wind in your lungs struggles to escape, leaving your chest constricted and heart fully broken beyond repair.

You wanted to have misheard. You wanted him to regret what he said and quickly apologize. Like he always does, he always fixes it. But this time, Wayne doesn’t even turn his head up to look at you. Instead he keeps his eyes fixated on his hands, mindlessly picking at the skin around his nails.

You swallow, hard, and attempt to speak, but nothing comes out. You try to open your mouth more, but it snaps shut. There’s nothing you can say or do that will change his mind, so what was even worth defending? Your dignity was long gone when you first sat down with him, and it feels like there’s no love for you inside of Wayne’s heart, but you still hold on the best you can.

Even your strength can’t hold back the tears that eventually spill from your eyes though, and soon enough, streams of hot tears come barreling down the sides of your face, seemingly endlessly. You bring your sleeve up to your face and start hastily dabbing away your tears, blotting softly at first but quickly bashing your fists into your eyes to get them to stop.

Wayne’s ears perk up when he hears you sniffle, but he doesn’t look over. Even when he doesn’t speak, he still says a lot, and his silence was all you needed to realize that Wayne McCullough had chosen who he wants to be around and to spend his time with, and that person was not you.

Even if it meant leaving you behind, Wayne’s mind was set. He couldn’t change the past, but he was hopeful for the future, and if there was any ounce of changing that, then Wayne held on. It just meant that you were something that he couldn’t keep as well.

Despite everything, Wayne doesn’t bother looking up, he doesn’t even spare a passing glance. He ignores you. He ignores the tears now rushing from your eyes and spilling onto the only clothes you had on your back. He ignores all of those times where you’d saved him and he’d saved you, running from the cops and any authoritative figure to escape into a fleeting feeling of freedom. He doesn’t even acknowledge it.

He doesn’t have to tell you what to do next. Him not looking at you was more than he needed to say, and before you knew it, your bag filled with missing things was over your shoulder, and you, halfway out the door. Wayne still remains in the same position, back turned to where you had left him, only now he was facing you as you left. Dark eyes stick onto your teary-eyed expression like magnets stuck to their piece, but no words are exchanged.

For a moment, you see his hands twitch from his sides, but he stops moving all together. Now you were certain. If you left or not, Wayne would still go back to his mom. Even if she had left him all those years ago, she was stuck to him and he didn’t want to get rid of her or even see how much she’s hurting him.

In the end, you couldn’t change his mind after all.

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bookshelf-dust · 9 months

Text

go to sleep

eddie munson x gn!reader

word count: 1,108

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst but no happy ending

a/n: gonna take max’s advice for this one and just sit here. i’m gonna sit here, and i’m gonna watch. mhm. that’ll do ;)

————

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Your face splits into a grin before you can even try to suppress it. It doesn’t matter how shitty your day has been, that you cried in the car on the way home, that there’s this ache in your chest—almost like something is really wrong, something you can’t quite put your finger on. It doesn’t matter, because now you’re home.

You pull the door shut behind you, gaze dragging over the man stretched out on the couch before you.

“Hi, baby.”

Eddie sits up, watching intently as you tug off your shoes, your coat. You go to him, and he spreads his legs, arms held out, welcoming you to a hug. You notice, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, that he isn’t wearing his pick necklace.

He nuzzles his face into the soft skin of your belly, taking in the leftover scent of your perfume, the laundry detergent used to wash your shirt. He kisses your forearm, lips a little chilly.

You pull back and take his face in your hands to kiss him properly. He smiles into it, giddy as ever to have his mouth on yours. He treats each ounce of your affection like it is the greatest privilege one could ever be allowed. It is an immense privilege that you allow him to be yours.

His hands fist the fabric of your t-shirt. “You wanna lay down with me for a while?”

You nod, and the movement makes him grin. His happiness is palpable.

“Yeah? Come on then.”

He scoots back against the arm of the couch, shoving a pillow under his head. He has a feeling you need his attention. That maybe you’ve been longing for it. He opens his legs, watches as you settle on top of him, careful not to hurt him while you get comfortable.

When you shove your face into his chest, trying to absorb as much of him as you can, you realize that his lips aren’t the only chilly part of him. He’s cold. He’s usually so warm, like your own personal space heater.

“Eddie? Can you reach that blanket?”

Your brows knit in concern, but he doesn’t catch it, just pulls the fabric over the two of you. He tucks it in around his thighs, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Better?” he asks, kissing the top of your head.

You look up at him, propping your chin up on your hands. “Much. I love you, Eddie, you know that, right?”

“‘Course I know that. I love you too. So much it hurts.”

You lean forward slightly and press a kiss to his collarbone. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you, Eds.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s a good kind of pain.”

You kiss his chin. Your brain keeps fussing at you, telling you something’s wrong. This isn’t right. You ignore it.

“Anything you wanna talk about?”

Eddie hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you got home. There’s this look in them that you recognize, a look you’ve only seen once. Something in your head tells you that you didn’t like that occasion. Because he’d looked at you like you’d hung the stars, like he could let go because you were there, and that meant he was safe.

No. That’s silly.

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Just wanna be here with you.”

Really there’s so much you want to tell him. So much you need to catch him up on. Things you shouldn’t have to catch him up on. But your heart tells you not right now. You feel as though he might slip through your fingers at any moment.

You bring your hands around his back, rubbing over his shoulder blades. You hug him tightly.

“Don’t go, Eddie.”

He laughs. “Where would I go, huh, baby? I’m right here. You get some rest now, okay? When you wake up, we can pick up dinner.”

“Promise?”

He tilts your head up toward him with a soft touch, his index and middle fingers to your chin.

Eddie kisses you. Soft and sweet. As you drift off, you can’t help but realize that he never promised. He just kept you distracted.

————

When you wake up, you’re covered in a thin layer of sweat. Not enough that you’ve soaked through your clothes, but enough that the backs of your knees feel sticky, that your hands are warm and a little swollen. Your heart is pounding.

“Eddie—”

You call out for him, but your voice catches in your throat. You’re crying. You hadn’t realized you were crying.

Eddie’s not here.

But you know where he is.

He’s exactly where you left him. In that place. Where he’d given you that look.

It’s okay, baby, really. This is all I get, and we have to be okay with that. I’m okay with it. You’re gonna be fine, y-you hear me?

On instinct, your hand moves to Eddie’s side of the bed. Cold. The pillow still has an indentation from his head, one on the side where he’d grip it when lying on his stomach.

Your dream crashes over you all at once, every small detail telling you exactly what it was. A dream. Much better than your waking nightmare. You fall back against your own pillow and shut your eyes.

Go to sleep, you think. It’s still dark out. You should be sleeping.

Maybe if you can get back to sleep, Eddie will come to you again. Maybe you’ll be able to feel him. Hear his voice. Oh, his voice.

My sweet baby.

Can’t believe I landed such a badass.

Come and give me a hug, I’m dyin’ here.

You can pick the music.

Gonna marry you someday, you know that?

You’re sobbing now. Your room is covered in Eddie. He’s everywhere. You smack your hand against the mattress beside you, angry that you’re alone.

Because he should be here. He should be here and he should be snoring, pressing half his body weight into you because he can’t share for the life of him.

When you wake up, you know he won’t be in the shower, screaming the words to some obscure metal song. He won’t rush back up the stairs to kiss you twice more before he leaves. He won’t call at lunch. You won’t hear his music blaring halfway down the street when he comes home.

Take me with you, you’d thought. I wanna go. I don’t want to be without you. Please don’t go without me.

If only it’d been that simple.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut and roll onto the opposite side of the bed.

Go to sleep, you think. Eddie might be there.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @clovermunson

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #angst no happy ending #eddie munson angst

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