#none of my friends are watching live so i have to inflict my thoughts on the internet

[blood-and-foam]

maybe i just don’t have the social intelligence or whatever but Q’s hide and seek thing feels literally bonkers. like, ben did so well because he was wearing a green shirt. come on man

#none of my friends are watching live so i have to inflict my thoughts on the internet #survivor 46 #random ramblings

[d3adlyromb3ar]

✰ sinking lily pads

— synopsis. he thrived in the sorcerer world, she was forced into it. how could two people that strayed so differently from each other become so close?

— pairing. gojo x oc!fem!reader (main), toji fushiguro x oc!fem!reader

— word count. 4k

— contents. heavy child abuse, torture, neglect, abandonment, angsty asf, injuries, blood/gore, depressing thoughts, suicidal ideation, dissociation, ptsd, mentions of death, jjk violence/fighting

— notes. italics are flashbacks 🤍

series masterlist | previous chapter

✰ chapter three. no point in forgetting

June 10th, 1999

The wood traced her exposed back, the end trailing down her spine. Her hands gripped the bars tightly in front of her— palms squeezing the cold metal so tightly it threatened to burst.

I know it’s in there somewhere.

The bad man had said. Tsking in disappointment as she had failed yet again in perfecting her rising technique.

She had just discovered the mere sensation and instincts of something new— yet the bad man had demanded she perfected the ability. It seemed unfair, but she also knew that she failed.

Again and again the bad man forced her to focus and tried desperately to pull the technique out of her. Unbeknownst to him, it just didn’t work that way.

Quit holding back, it’s only gonna make things worse for you girl.

The bad man would taunt, every threat causing goosebumps to cover her flesh.

It didn’t matter. No amount of screaming, training or torture would bring it out. But in the man’s eyes, she failed— and she deserved to be punished.

The wood leaving her skin brought her back to reality, remembering her position and how badly she wished to escape from this situation.

“How many hours of failure today?” The bad man spit, his eyes glaring into the untouched skin of her back.

She forced her lip to stop quivering, needing herself to answer strongly.

“14.” She whispered, voice still weak.

The man leaned down and swept her hair off her neck, his lips dangerously close to her ear as he hissed his next words.

“Then that’s how many you’ll get.”

The words were enough to bring tears to her eyes, shivering in disgust as his voice almost sounded excited to inflict such damage. She couldn’t find it in herself to be ashamed of her state, she wailed and screamed— but not once did she let go of the bars. Staying completely still.

She felt his presence leave her, and knew that the little shuffling sounds indicated he was pulling back the stake. Her body could only tense up as she prepared herself for hell.

“I’m very disappointed in you Miss Dair.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。

“I’m very disappointed in you Miss Dair.”

Yaga’s voice boomed. Although he was speaking at a normal frequency— she couldn’t help but wince as the words rolled out.

“I thought I could count on you to be honest with me. With your classmates…” He paused and looked at her more intensely, “With your friends.”

Moon narrowed her gaze slightly at him, knowing he was trying to get some kind of reaction— but she had none. She knew he had the right to be upset, as she was upset with herself just as equally.

“It’s important you inform me of details so severe as your life. You do realize not to take your 9 lives for granted, yes?” He questioned, more like interrogated.

Moon’s eye twitched.

“Yes sir, I understand.” She replied almost robotically.

Yaga wasn’t have any of it though.

“No, you don’t understand. That’s the issue I’ve realized,” He stated bluntly, “You don’t value your life, and it saddens me.”

Moon’s jaw dropped and she went silent for a few moments. Watching Yaga lean back in his seat and cross his arms.

It was her turn to lean forward.

“Principal Yaga, I do value my lif—”

“We can cut the bullshit.” He interrupted harshly. “Really Miss Dair? Do I look like someone you should lie to right now?”

Moon clenched her jaw, her nose burning with a familiar sensation that tears were threatening to come.

“With all due respect sir, I didn’t intend on dying. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” She voiced lowly, not even believing herself.

Yaga scoffed and shook his head, but he wasn’t trying to seem rude. He was worried deep down and extremely disappointed in this change in his student.

His silence gave Moon time to overthink, and she couldn’t stop herself from speaking.

“Do you… do you think I meant to die?” She asked, wondering just what it was he was thinking.

Yaga adjusted his glasses, before leaning his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t think you did, I just think you don’t care that you did.” He told her.

She found herself stuck in a tough spot. Her body wanted to escape, to run away and hide from the truth that was being spat at her. Another part of her realized just how right Principal Yaga was.

The principal watched as Moon was left speechless, fiddling with her fingers in her lap anxiously— as she couldn’t come up with anything.

It only saddened him more. A part of him wishing that it wasn’t the case.

“What’s going on?” He asked her, his voice softer than earlier.

Moon didn’t know why she felt like she could talk openly with him. It wasn’t like her to express herself— at least not anymore. Although, it was hard to forget what Yaga had done for her, and maybe that’s what forced her to talk to him.

Yaga had saved her from the horrid clutches of the Zenin Clan, to which now she felt like she owed it to Yaga to at the very least— talk with him. He deserved that, and of course so much more.

Moon took a deep breath, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear.

“I never asked for this life.” She whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

But he did.

“I know you didn’t.” He agreed gently.

“So you understand.” She assumed.

“Understand what? That getting yourself killed is supposed to be okay?” He spoke, voice rising but still trying to remain calm.

Moon sighed, throwing her hands up in frustration.

“No— I…” She trailed off, “You know what… forget it.” She had more words to say but held herself back from voicing them.

Yaga narrowed his eyes.

“Moon,” The principal started, grabbing her attention seeing as he rarely called her by her first name. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and whether or not you ever fully open up to me about what exactly they did to you. I know they hurt you. In ways I’ll probably never understand.”

The burning sensation within her nose grew stronger from his words.

“But everything they did to you, everything that happened— you deserve to live a happy life.” He told her, wishing so badly that she could believe the words he said tonight.

“You’ve told me this before.” She whispered, her gaze focused on the floor.

“Because it’s true, and I need you to believe it.” He pushed, his voice softer again.

She shook her head, her vision blurry with tears— but she’d be damned to let them fall.

“Life has been cruel to you, but it doesn’t have to be anymore.” He told her, “I want you to live and be happy, because it’s what you deserve.”

She stood up from her spot and turned away from him, not walking away— but she couldn’t allow him to see the tear that managed to slip down her cheek. She wiped it away, before facing him again. This time she stayed standing.

“It’s difficult to live a happy life when I’m stuck doing something I don’t want to do.” She spoke carefully, turning defensive from his kind words.

“You’ve never been forced to do anything here.” He stated calmly.

“Then let me leave.” She argued.

“No ones stopping you.”

She felt her tongue become led in her mouth, swallowing as yet again— she was left speechless. It was cruel in a way that Yaga was always right, and he was.

Not once was Moon ever forced to go to school here. Not once was she forced to fight, to spar, to train. Not once was she forced to exorcize curses— it was all her choice. Yaga made sure of that.

He also knew that deep down under that facade of the girl she presented, the one who wishes to run away— to hide. He knew she was still a good person, someone who couldn’t walk away from the opportunity to help people. To save people.

He knew she was more at a battle with herself than anyone else.

“If that’s all sir, I’d like to be excused.” She muttered quietly, clearly finished with the conversation.

He let out a breath, knowing it wouldn’t be that easy to convince her of all he said today.

“One more thing and then you may leave.” He stated and she looked up to him, “There is an upcoming mission, one where you will work with your classmates. It’s important and I suggest you screw your head on straight before you take it on.”

She nodded in understanding.

“More information about said mission will be provided tomorrow. I suggest you relax today, get lots of rest.” He recommended sternly.

Something about his words made it sound like she was going to need her rest for this mission. At that, she became intrigued with what this mission was exactly. Time would tell.

“You can leave now.” He said lastly, his attention back in front of him.

Moon bowed her head lazily, making her way out of the room. She had a lot of thinking to do— a lot of reflecting. Yaga’s words weren’t said to deaf ears, and now they swirled around her mind.

I want you to live and be happy, because it’s what you deserve.

Those words specifically echoed throughout her head, the kind sentence causing her to scoff.

What did I deserve?

She wondered bitterly.

The school grounds were quiet and calm today. Usually the ambience of people wandering about, the different conversations being held— it was comforting. But the silence wasn’t unwelcome, and it seemed rather peaceful.

The dark haired girl made her way down the steps of the school, when a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Well well, look who it is.” The white haired sorcerer acknowledged from his spot under a tree— relaxing in the shade.

Moon glanced at Shoko and Geto to his right before meeting his eyes through his glasses.

“Hope we weren’t missing out on important information about our upcoming mission just now.” Geto teased.

Moon wished to of gone back to her room to rest, but couldn’t think of an excuse to leave them now that they spotted her. Plus, she wanted to see them.

She shook her head, walking over to the trio.

“Nah, just Yaga being… well… himself.” She mumbled.

Geto snorted, always finding Moon and the Principal’s relationship silly. He knew that Yaga had taken you in when you were young, but he didn’t know any further than that.

“Don’t disrespect the man.” Gojo commented.

Moon turned towards him, giving him a glare. Shoko chuckled at her reaction, her cigarette resting in between her fingers as she observed her friends.

“C’mon Satoru, be nice.” Shoko warned.

Gojo looked around dramatically, lifting his hands up in the air. The whole act only causing Moon to roll her eyes, even though deep down her lips threatened to curve.

“I didn’t even do anything!” He whined before locking eyes with Moon. “Right Nines, y’know I was just joking if anything.”

Even though she told him not to use that nickname anymore, she couldn’t find it in herself to care at the moment.

“It’s fine.” She shrugged, taking a seat next to Geto.

Furthest away from Gojo, causing him to pout slightly. Unnoticed by everyone.

“So what do you think this big mission Yaga keeps mentioning is about?” Geto wondered.

Gojo sighed loudly, gaining everyone’s attention. Typical.

“Who knows, probably a small job.” He assumed.

“You think so?” Geto asked, and only received a shrug back.

Moon let her classmates voices turn into background noise as she got lost in her thoughts. She knew better than to be hanging around them, trying to steer clear of getting close with anyone. But every interaction, even the tiny ones that led up to this point— she clenched her jaw in defeat. Whether or not she wanted to believe it or not— she had already created bonds with these people.

She only felt one thing for herself: disappointment.

“…right Moon?” Geto’s voice suddenly registered.

She glanced to the three who were now staring at her, clearly waiting for her answer. It was evident that she hadn’t heard a thing they said.

“What’d you say?” She asked, a little embarrassed.

“I said given the choice pairing up with me or Satoru for the mission, you’d pick me right?” He asked again, a grin on his face.

Despite his concerns for his friends behavior.

Moon scoffed but had a playful grin.

“Oh yeah, no question.” She played along.

Gojo pushed his glasses back up to cover his eyes completely, rolling his eyes behind the black lenses.

Moon smiled wider at his reaction, lowering her gaze to the grass. Missing the way Gojo was staring at her lips.

It was easier to pretend nothing was wrong sometimes, these lighthearted moments almost convincing her to quit her efforts to keep them away completely.

Your friends worry about you. Yaga’s words from a previous conversation, echoed through her head.

It wouldn’t be wise to head into a mission with everyone’s heads in the wrong spot. Maybe she needed to do her part, and reassure the ones she was surrounded by. It wouldn’t matter if she didn’t believe any of the words she said— she just needed them to believe it.

“Hey,” She nudged Gojo’s leg with her foot, “Take a walk with me?”

His head had leaned forward again, allowing his blue eyes to peak over the tops of his shades. He studied your expression, making out one thing quickly— genuine.

“Sure Nines.”

The two promised to come back to Shoko and Geto.

As soon as they made it far enough, where soon it was just them two secluded— Gojo was the first to speak.

“Gotta say I’m a little surprised.”

Moon turned her head towards him, confusion washing over her features.

“Surprised?” She asked.

“Well yeah, you’re actually talking to me. Correction— you’re talking to me first. Without me starting the conversation, like I always do.”

“Okay, I get it.” She stopped him, the corners of her mouth turning up.

“So what’s with the sudden change— ya know not that I’m complaining or anything. Just curious.”

Moon walked with even steps, keeping up with his larger strides as they traveled deeper into the woods.

“Well, I needed to apologize to you.” She uttered quietly.

Gojo tilted his head slightly, confusion washing over his features this time. He kept his gaze on his feet in front of him.

“Apologize for what?”

Moon swallowed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear nervously. Or was it guilt?

“I’ve come to realize that I’ve been making you… unfocused.” She was careful with her wording. “I’m sorry for any stress I’ve been causing you, as for the others as well.”

Gojo stopped walking, causing her to stop and turn towards him as well. He didn’t know why her apology was ticking him off. Mainly because he didn’t see a good reason why she was apologizing in the first place.

“Making me unfocused?” He asked carefully, making sure he heard that right.

She nodded shamefully, the action making Gojo’s cheekbone twitch in irritation.

“Nines, you do realize that you shouldn’t be apologizing to me right now.” He surprised her.

“Wha— why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t be.” He argued.

She was silent for a moment, gazing deeply into his shades— desperate to see his eyes. Knowing that it was the only way to depict how he was truly feeling.

“You have been so stressed out lately.”

“Yeah but that has nothing to do with you.” He lied.

Yes he was stressed, and yes maybe you were in a way the cause of it— but only because he worried about you too much.

“Listen Nines,” He took his glasses off, looking down to lock eyes with hers. “Anything that’s going on with me, isn’t your fault. So don’t start beating yourself up.”

“How can I not? With the mission coming up, I don’t need you to be distracted— and getting hurt because of it.”

He smirked slightly, unable to control himself.

“Weird, for a second there— it kinda sounded like you cared about me.”

Moon rolled her eyes.

“I’m serious Gojo.”

“And I’m serious Moon, you shouldn’t be apologizing.” He tried to convince her. “Plus, I’m not unfocused… if it’s anything, I’m just worried about you.”

She knew he was, but it was completely different hearing himself say those words.

“You don’t need to be worried about me, I’m fine.”

“That’s just the thing you don’t understand Nines,” He trailed off, taking a few steps closer to her. “I’m always gonna worry about you.”

His words had her shuttering, her chest warm with an unfamiliar sensation. She couldn’t confirm whether she enjoyed the feeling or felt indifferent about it.

“Why?”

He stepped closer again, and had to think of his words for a moment as the view from his perspective of her— distracted him. Her eyes were round and slightly glossy as she gazed up at him.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re important to me.”

She felt her chest tighten slightly, one of her hands lying over her heart. This wasn’t what she was hoping would come of this conversation. But she also knew that these talks were almost inevitable.

“Don’t seem so shocked. You know that I care about you.” He added, her silence irritating him.

She swallowed, needing a moment to clear her head.

“You shouldn’t. You need to focus on the mission.” Was all she came up with.

“I can do both. I’m a great multitasker.”

She huffed and let her eyes drop to the grass, focusing on the grass blades instead of his intense blue eyes— she found it hard to focus when she gazed into them.

“This is pointless…” She muttered under her breath, which Gojo didn’t miss.

“Ouch.”

“I’m serious, this isn’t some kind of game—”

“I am serious Moon,” He repeated himself, growing agitated, “God, why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you?”

She could only stare at him, coming up with nothing to say. She really found it hard to believe people cared about her. 

“I know I’m not the best at expressing emotions, but fuck— I hope that at least my friends can see that I care.” He huffed, turning away from her. 

She felt bad for making him frustrated, that wasn’t her intention— it never was. It seemed she was always causing him to be though. 

“You’re fine Gojo, I’m sorry. I don— I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

He turned back towards her, gazing into her eyes and taking in her shameful expression. 

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you?” He asked again.

She swayed in her spot and debated whether she should cloak and run away— it was always the first thing that came to mind when she was put in these situations. Although, she couldn’t bring herself to leave him. Not when he sported this kicked puppy look— it had her feeling all that more guilty. 

“Moon.” He got her attention again, watching as she spaced out. He walked closer to her until there was a little space in between them. It had her craning her neck up to meet his eyes bravely. “Why?”

“I don’t know…” She whispered, her eyes dancing just below his eyes to watch the muscle in his cheek flex. “There’s something wrong with me.”

His gaze softened as he found her telling the truth. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you Nines.” He started and thought about the line he was dancing on, “You just need to be nicer to yourself.”

She scoffed and lowered her head, her stare on his shoes. 

“It’s not that I… I just feel like I don’t work right. Like… I don’t know.” She tried to explain, but grew frustrated when she couldn’t voice what she wanted. 

She felt slender fingers grab her chin gently, and tilted her head up so that she was looking back into his eyes. She couldn’t ignore the flipping sensation in her stomach from the gesture. 

“You’re not broken like some toy, Moon.” He tried to tell her.

“Maybe not physically but, it just feels like that. Like everything I went through with the Zenin Clan…” She rambled on, catching herself before she could say anymore. 

Gojo knew she was saved from the Zenin’s clutches— but he didn’t know of the details. Nobody did. The only person who knew a little more was Yaga, but even then he didn’t know everything. She had never uttered a word to anyone of her experience. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” He reassured her, noticing her nervous look. “But you can if you want.” 

She gazed into his eyes and found herself reliving the same exact sensation she got the very first time Gojo tried to… kiss her. She didn’t know why she felt it— especially when he wasn’t showing any signs of leaning closer to her. It was after a couple seconds stuck in her thoughts, when she realized she was the one who was moving towards him. 

She stopped herself instantly, swallowing harshly when she still felt his fingers on her chin. 

“I know deep down that people care about me. It’s just hard to truly understand that.” She answered his question, not going into her past. 

He let go of her chin, letting his hand slide down her arm as he grabbed her hand. 

When was he this touchy? She wondered. 

She didn’t stop him, or pull away as she let herself enjoy the comfort his touch brought. She’d usually stand a little farther away than necessary— keep her distance. But she was starved and let herself have this moment— this sliver of affection. If that’s what it was. 

“So deep down, you understand that I care about you right?” He asked, his eyes glancing back from one to the other. 

She’d never seen him look so— desperate. 

The question circled within her. Yes, she knew he cared. But no matter how much convincing to herself— she’d always have that doubt in the back of her mind. The one the Zenin’s damaged to a pulp. 

“Yeah, I do.” She told him, the words feeling bitter coming off her tongue. 

She watched his shoulders sag with a huge breath he had been holding in, and she didn’t know why the little act had her heart hurting. The fact that even in this gentle moment— she was still causing him pain. 

“Good.” Was all he found himself saying. 

He wasn’t sure if this version of his Moon would stick around— whether or not she would revert back to her isolated self. But he would appreciate her in any form she presented herself in— he was learning quickly that his sorcerer friend was right. 

Our Moon is very much there.

Geto’s words finally made sense as he realized that maybe things wouldn’t go back to the way they were— but he still had her. That was enough for him, and he’d stick by her until the end. Now only if he could voice those words to her. One day. 

He smiled at her and let go of her hand, despite him not wanting to— he didn’t want to overstep. 

“Come on, let's head back.” He told her, starting to walk back to Shoko and Geto.

Moon followed after him, her shoulders feeling a bit lighter— her mind feeling a little more at ease. She wondered why the sudden change in how she was feeling— but couldn’t care enough to complain. Her feet moved quickly, keeping up with his long strides. All while there was a small smile on her lips. 

Maybe things weren’t so bad after all. 

— ending notes. pls lmk what you think of this series so far, feedback always appreciated 🤍

#jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo my beloved #gojo x oc #husband #toji fushiguro #angst #angst with a happy ending #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #jjk yaga #trauma #zenin clan #sinking lily pads fic #sinking lily pads #sinking lily pads series #moon dair #moon dair oc #fic series #fic rec #series recommendations #🤍🤍🤍

[milosirlgf]

a guy/honey drabble :3

note: this is set pre-confession! think maybe a couple weeks before the events of the valentines video :3 also, my headcanon is that honey's a wolf shifter so that might make more sense in the last couple paragraphs :3 also, i wrote the last bit at 2am, forgive me, its shit. not proofread. lowercase intended!

warnings: none! pure fluff :3

the clacking of your keyboard in the room across from his could very well have driven him insane. his eyes leaped between the image of his slightly creaked open door, and the hallway; contemplating exiting his den of serenity for the first time in what felt like years. he’d already received a, long, winded, well deserved lecture on the ethics of disturbing his favorite roommate’s focus in regards to their ever-so important essay. he had then, of course, argued the ethics, and, to put it in his words, the point of starting an essay three weeks in advance, which earned him quite a…terrifying glare.

guy’s mind wandered for, ten, maybe fifteen minutes, pondering whether to interrupt his cherished friend’s self-inflicted torture. friend. had they considered him a friend? would they ever even think of, perhaps, being.. more? he hadn’t even noticed when the excruciatingly loud typing had long halted. the fumbling of the doorknob across him interrupted his thought process. a rather, show stopping pair of eyes met his. his breath hitched.

“hi” guy was grinning, as usual, (his voice had always skipped an octave up when he was around them.)

“hi. sorry for.. uh. sorry for yelling, earlier, i mean.” they whispered, looking down at the bleak carpet below the two.

“oh?!” he chipped, “well, you’re forgiven, though you’re still very, very mean, i hope you know.” his smirk sent butterflies through their stomach, electric currents through their veins. he eyed the smile (which they’d tried to hide) creeping onto their gorgeous face.

“hey, guy?” their voice was like honey.

“mm, w. what?” he stumbled, voice wavering. eyes dancing up from their lips.

“wanna watch a movie? um. with me?” their hands fidgeted with the thread of their shirt. “uh. kayla’s at her boyfriends place for the night.. i was just, you know, wondering if you wanted to. no pressure.”

guy smiled, warmly,

“aaoow… how romantic!” his giggles bounced off the walls, filling their ears with nothing but sweetness.

“urgh.” they sighed with utter exasperation, “yknow what. nevermind.” they rolled their eyes, turning to face their bedroom, defensively.

“NO nononono no. no!” he whined, grinning through his words and grabbing their hand, giddily spinning them back around. “i’d love to, honeyyy!” he teased. his nimble hands began to tug them towards the living room as they groaned, heavily, at the petname.

“oh, come on.” they groaned, “that’s not even what werewolves look like, not even close!” facepalming, they leaned backwards, pushing guy’s shoulder against theirs. his breath caught, not focusing on the poorly edited, skinny, man-like ‘werewolf’ displayed charmingly across the tv screen.

“how would you know? you’ve never seen a werewolf before.. for all that you know, that COULD be an accurate representation.. you don’t know!!” his smirk was almost engraved into their mind.

“well, howdya know i’m not a werewolf?” they murmured, their face dead straight, not a sight of humor behind the phrase.

“i don’t.” he spoke, definitively, “buuut it wouldn’t surprise me.. you’ve got the grumbly, dare i say, emo.. attitude to back it up.” he uttered, “OW! owww shitshitshitshitshit stoooop!!” the pitch of his voice stepping higher as they hit him, forcibly with the largest pillow in reach.

“you’re just proving my point, sweetcheeks!”

#this is bad #im HORRIBLE at dialogue sorri guys #also first fic on tumblr ! #woah! #crazy! #could u tell i was watching harry potter #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted guy

[muertawrites]

I Fought the Law (Eddie Munson x Reader)

(continuation of if living is without you. i haven't watched any of v2 bc i'm just not in a mental state to do it yet, so if it seems a little disjointed from the narrative, that's why. third part coming as soon as i figure out what song to name it after i'm camp af)

"Three officers is a bit much for someone who isn't a suspect, don't you think?"

You quirk a brow defiantly at the men standing in the doorway of Eddie's hospital room, looming over you as if they could possibly inflict any kind of fear you haven't already felt to its fullest. They've been hovering for days, waiting for the right moment to squeeze information out of you. You haven't left Eddie's side for longer than it takes to shower and change your clothes, and everyone he's ever known has been in and out constantly; now, with him fast asleep and the room empty of anyone else, they have you cornered.

"We just need you to answer some questions," the middle officer tells you. "It's either here or at the station."

"Eddie didn't do it," you state.

"One of the victims died in his home and he fled from the scene," another officer quips. "Unless you're keeping information from us, we have no reason to believe he didn't."

"Other than the fact that he was also attacked," you counter.

The men exchange glances, shuffling a bit as the air in the room somehow grows even more tense. The youngest of the officers gestures for you to sit, which you do, perching in the chair that has been pushed against Eddie's bed since he was admitted.

"Why didn't you contact the police when you discovered where the suspect was?" questions the first officer.

"Because he was scared for his life," you explain. "He didn't want anyone to know where he was because he was afraid of dying, not the law. He thought that wha... whoever got Chrissy was coming for him, too."

"Did the suspect name a third person who was present that night?"

You shake your head.

"No. He was in shock and his memory got kind of scrambled. But he was convinced that he was in danger because he was a witness, and that's not... that's not Eddie. Eddie's fearless."

Or at least good at hiding it.

You reach for his hand, comforted by the twitch of his fingers when he feels yours curl around his palm. He shifts a little in his sleep; you can barely take your eyes off him.

"What's your relationship with the suspect?" asks the younger officer.

"We're friends."

The man raises his eyebrows at you, disbelieving.

"You sure?" he presses.

You glare back at him, squeezing Eddie's hand.

"Yes. I'm sure."

The other officer - the one with the stern mouth - laughs, shaking his head.

"If you're gonna lie about this, then chances are you've lied about everything else," he says. "And if you lie to us, you're a suspect, too."

"What are you really asking, then?" you snap. "Do you want the truth, or what you want to hear? Because I won't keep quiet if you end up twisting what I say to fit whatever biased narrative you've already come up with. Every newspaper in this godforsaken state will have my story."

"We just don't have a lot of information," the younger officer interjects. "Other than another boy, the suspect is our only witness to any of these murders."

"Is that the same boy whose only explanation for any of this shit is that Eddie is possessed by the devil?"

Your question is met with complete silence, in which none of the men can meet your eyes. You scoff.

"Yeah. I thought so. Incompetent fucks."

"You better show some respect," the rude officer threatens. "We could land your boyfriend's ass in prison for a long time if you're not careful."

"So you admit it?" you challenge. You're both standing now, almost chest to chest. "You're blaming Eddie because you don't have any other leads."

The officer sizes you up, almost as if he's considering whether or not to put you in cuffs. You set your jaw, gaze unwavering as you glare into his eyes. After an uneasy, drawn out moment, he backs down, returning to his seat.

"I stand by what I said," you state, crossing your arms. You tower over the men sitting before you. "Eddie didn't do this. He may look like a total creep but that's just to hide the fact that he's too sweet for his own good. He does it to keep away the people who want to hurt him."

"Well, that's all very heart warming," the middle officer responds, "but is there any hard evidence to back up your statement?"

"His clothes," you answer. "His clothes didn't have any blood on them - not enough for someone who could've murdered anyone. And he wore them for three days afterward so they haven't been washed. I know you have them as evidence, so do your fucking job and test them."

They all stare at you, seemingly perplexed that you can poke holes in their theory so easily; the youngest officer actually looks a little scared of you.

"You're very stupid for taking such a tone with us," the middle man says. "I'm almost tempted to cite you with disrespecting an officer."

You swallow, refusing to back down.

"... But you gave us more than we had. So thank you. We'll find you again if we have any further questions."

The men stand, stalking stiffly out of the room without looking back. Once the door is shut, you hear a soft chuckle from the bed behind you.

"You lied to the cops?" Eddie comments groggily. "That's pretty hot."

You turn to face him, rolling your eyes with an endeared smile as you make your way back to the chair at his side. Your fingers find his hair, tenderly brushing the fringe out of his eyes.

"I didn't lie," you correct him. "I just kept out the parts that would make me sound crazy."

"Still hot," Eddie drawls. "Kinda pissed you called me a creep, though."

"You are a creep. Leering at me like that," you tease.

His goofy smile only grows wider, creasing the corners of his mouth in a way that you find beyond beautiful. Even with his injuries, his face discolored and rutted with scratches starting to scab, he's radiant. He tucks your hand within his, raising the back of your palm to his lips in a soft, appreciative kiss.

"Thank you," he whispers.

"Always."

You're asleep on your cot by the window when something heavy crashes into you, bouncing and jostling you awake.

"Wake up!" Dustin shouts. "How can you sleep at a time like this? Holy shit!"

You smack haphazardly at him, your palm landing on his chest.

"Dude," you mumble, "language."

He shoves a newspaper in your face in response, cackling with glee.

"You're my hero," he cheers. "Both of you are my effing heroes."

You roll onto your back, squinting against the morning sun as you try to gain back a little bit more of your consciousness. Across from you, Eddie yawns, reaching a lanky arm to snatch the paper off your chest. His sleepy scowl spreads into an ecstatic grin as he reads the headline.

"Holy shit."

He flips the front page toward you, showing off the letters screaming in bold black ink:

FORENSIC EVIDENCE CLEARS MURDER SUSPECT; POLICE DROP CASE

🌹💀get your eddie fix💀🌹

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fix-it fic

[musings-from-an-elder-goth]

Every October from 1966 until 2020, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" etched itself into across the collective consciousness of young darklings with it's once a year broadcast on network television. (To watch it, click on the above link & jump to 5:45 on the timeline.) The importance of "The Great Pumpkin" to me and my fellows, regardless darkling or normie, cannot be overstated. Elementary school children simply did not miss "The Great Pumpkin." However, it lost much of it's 'weight,' for lack of a better term, once VCR's became available. Prior to those wondrous devices, you literally only had one chance per year to watch "The Great Pumpkin" - that's it. To be a kid & miss "The Great Pumpkin" airing was akin to Linus fainting and missing the arrival of The Great Pumpkin, himself. I recall hearing the tragic tale of one kid on the school bus who had missed the airing the previous night as his house had lost power & we all sat in silent horror at this revelation - a fate worse than death or dentist visit.

Of course, me being me, I had already somewhat prepared for such an unthinkable eventuality by having acquired a copy of the 1967 book adaptation of "The Great Pumpkin." In the 70's, my folks choose to live in the boonies, so losing power for no reason was something that could happen. Fortunately, I never did have to cower in a dark corner, clutching my well worn book copy, silently cursing the Fates for inflicting such an indignity upon me. After all, this was one of those vanishingly rare instances where the book version was objectively not as good as the TV version.

(Just as an aside, my fav Charlie Brown character was always Schroeder. I never gave it much thought, but Schroeder is actually kinda goth with his dark colors, quiet demeanor, & music obsession, so...makes sense. I imagine when he hit his teen years, he joined a goth band, died his hair black, & played wicked dark keyboards at countless gigs.)

Fast forward a few years & I can still vividly recall my profound shock at learning a friend of mine, who owned an early VCR, had recorded "The Great Pumpkin" upon it's previous airing. It was a singular wonder to be able to watch something you could previously only have seen once a year, watch it whenever you want, & not even need to find the most sincere pumpkin patch as prerequisite to do so. It was as if you could reach up into the heavens &, with a simple twist of hand, rewind the celestial sphere back in time to the previous eclipse or passing of Haley's Comet, so staggeringly cosmic in power it seemed. There we sat, watching "The Great Pumpkin" in early December of 1981 & it was a big enough deal to me that I still remember it as if it happened merely a month ago. And I wasn't even really that much into it anymore as I was 11 going on 12 at that point & was eager to put 'childish things' behind me. But I still watched it right the way through. I'm sure it found it's way to most folks VCR's during the 80's, & was officially released on VHS in 1988 & DVD in 2000, so I'm sure nowadays it's a rare household with children which lacks their own copy of "The Great Pumpkin."

Of course, there were other Halloween children's specials eager to rake in the chips like "The Great Pumpkin" did, but none of them ever reached the same level of quality as "The Great Pumpkin." Unlike most other Halloween children's specials, "The Great Pumpkin" has several sequences that, to a child, are legitimately spooky, such as the intro sequence, Snoopy making his way behind enemy lines, & the rising of 'The Great Pumpkin' in the pumpkin patch. I can still recall cynically thumbing through the TV Guide at any given year's new entries & weighing each against "The Great Pumpkin." Be it "Halloween is Grinch Night," "Fat Albert's Halloween Special," or "Bugs Bunny's Howl-oween," all were decidedly lacking. There were some older ones that I'd see on local independent stations that were reasonably good, such as the stop motion "Mad Monster Party" but even that was still a distant second. To this day, no Halloween children's special can hold a Jack-o-lantern to "The Great Pumpkin."

So this Halfway to Halloween, take a 25 minute break to revisit everyone's favorite Halloween special, & may the pumpkin patch in your particular neck of the woods always be the most sincere.

creaturesfromelsewhere 4-29-2024

#halfway to halloween #it's the great pumpkin charlie brown #early vcr's #early 80's #late 70's #gothlings #darklings #the great pumpkin #charlie brown #linus #creaturesfromelsewhere #musings from an elder goth #darkly inclined #goth #Schroeder #peanuts #charles schulz

[lantsovsupremacist]

nikolai lantsov: currents

warnings: nikolai lantsov being the best man ever wouldn’t you know 🙄��️

spoilers: set during king of scars but no major spoilers!!!

you looked up from the paperwork strewn about the desk situated in a far corner of the war room. tucked away here, you would never be the first target. some might call it paranoia or chalk it up to the trauma of the civil war, but you simply preferred a spot to observe quietly in the shadows.

toyla and tamar followed the king inside, nodding at zoya, genya, and david surrounding you.

“oh. it’s you. it’s all of you. i...” the man, or more likely boy, who skittered into the room spoke in a squeaky tone, “an absolute honor. a dream, really.”

briefly meeting nikolai’s eyes as he turned around from shutting the door behind him, you transferred your line of sight to the figure now bowing at your feet. zoya scoffed, eyes rolling to the heavens. genya and david shared a cohesive frown.

dropping the pen from your hand, you pushed your hair over your shoulders and straightened. you listened thoughtfully as he gave an introduction to each of your fellow grisha, recounting his apparent conclusions of them. when he treaded the sparkling waters that were genya, your face began to drop into anger.

“the first tailor, who bears the marks of the darkling’s blessing.”

her flinch did not go unnoticed by you. and as the only one whose temper rivaled yours kept hers in check, you failed to. the pressure immediately began to decrease in the room and the air dry of any moisture. nikolai’s head whipped up, perhaps the one most familiar with your temperament (other than zoya in your shared youth—never happy to be on the receiving end of a soaked kefta in class).

his hands flew up, taking a step towards you, bartering with any position he could gain. your fierce protection over genya was not unknown to those close to you, a flaw in the monk’s faulty perception. you let your shoulders fall, calming any potential downpour.

if yuri noticed your show of power, he made no move to address it, “ravka’s most powerful tide maker. oh the stories of how the darkling sanctioned you with the power to drown men on land.”

you froze but not because of a lie. his words were all true. the darkling hand selected you for this special training at age eleven. you allowed the legend to transpire, protecting you much like kaz brekker, dirtyhands of ketterdam. this was not a lore you would repeat with starry eyes and dreams of an otherworldly fantasy. none of the lives you had been forced to take before jumping ship to join sturmhond during the civil war could be washed away.

for all of your hard edges and brutal words, there were chinks in your armor that could not be hidden. tamar and toyla brought a hand to their weapons in startling unison. zoya’s eyes called out for yours.

nikolai’s features immediately darkened, an eclipse shadowing the usual light in his eyes. he rose from his chair slowly, exhibiting all of the power that he had inherited.

the shameless monk managed to hold himself upright but the unchecked tremble of his fingers exposed the fear instilled by the king’s actions.

“if i ever hear of her name—any of their names—leaving your mouth again,” nikolai began, his words sharper than the edge of his sword, “for any purpose in any country,” nikolai paused to watch yuri shrink under his steady gaze, “there will be nothing left for your believers to mourn into martyrdom.”

you held your chin high, your eyes twin daggers poised to launch across the room and eagerly embed themselves in a target. the ire in your chest began to subside upon witnessing yuri’s response to your boyfriend’s threats, only to be readily replaced by a flush of desire as his hazel eyes sharpened.

breaking eye contact with the monk who could not decide where to offer his, you glanced about the room. zoya had steeled herself beside you, radiating enough anger to address each of yuri’s mislead and misspoken opinions. even david’s face appeared from behind the book in his hands, though he kept his page by leaving it open to rest on his lap.

“am i correct in my assumption that you have heard me clearly,” nikolai’s voice carried across the walls, not quite commanding any longer but instead demanding the attention of those stood inside.

“y-yes your highness,” yuri stumbled out weakly as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his wiry nose.

after finishing up matters with your friends, nikolai took off out of the room, glancing back to make sure you intended to follow. you fell in step behind him, remaining quiet until you reached the stairs leading up to his chambers.

“i could have handled him, you know,” you pressed nikolai, hands repeatedly flexing and unflexing as they brushed against the sides of your blue kefta. your tone held no anger, simply indicating a truth.

nikolai drummed his fingers against the railing, pausing before turning back to face you, “of course you could have, love, but where’s the fun in that for me?”

you appreciated his willingness to defend your honor but the playfulness in his tone felt forced. he did not even make an attempt at his trademark smile imbued by charm and confidence. you decided in that moment that you would do to see it’s safe return.

“nik,” you spoke, repeating yourself after the absence of an answer, “nik.” your hand finding its way into his own hanging limply at his side.

“do you really see yourself in that way?” his voice shook, nearly choking on his final words.

any time the topic was brought up, nikolai was reminded of your stance. you had broken down to him the night after the darkling fell at the hands of alina starkov. no matter any of your friend’s persuasion, you stood firm in your position. you deserved to pay for the harm you inflicted on so many innocent. you were a monster, one who had given in to being handcrafted by another.

the untroubled nature with which he typically carried himself had vanished. your own expression faltered. his particular kind of magic, knowing smirks and careful quips that were like incantations for smiles, vanished.

and while it was normal for nikolai to drop the facade of a charming king around you, the pain held in his eyes plummeted your heart into your stomach.

“i think i did once,” you replied airily, not wasting your breath on a lie that nikolai could surely detect before the sound waves settled, “right after the war ended.”

nikolai chewed on the inside of his cheek anxiously, “but you’ve intentionally chosen past tense to describe these feelings.”

“yes,” you nodded, drawing your lover closer to you by the lapels of his jacket, “always so observant. it’s only of the many things i admire about you.”

nikolai sighed, closing his eyes and letting his blonde curls fall upon your forehead. you brought a hand up to stroke his cheekbone, soaking in the warmth of his skin pressed up against own.

“your strength,” nikolai said after a moment, drawing a hand to your waist, “your perseverance.”

“hmm?” you hummed quietly in question, content to reside with him inside this moment only belonging to the two of you.

“qualities i admire in you, my love,” he smiled after a moment, not entirely to be described as filled with confidence but surety nonetheless.

the flush of color in your cheeks always reminded nikolai of the pink dahlias planted in his favorite corner of the garden. maybe it was because it was where he had first kissed you. he decided that was probably his reason, although he never needed one to justify the beauty of either the memory or girl in front of him now.

too caught up in the memory, nikolai’s lips dipped to yours. you could always grasp a lingering taste of saltwater no matter how far away he was from sea, how many weeks removed. it reminded you of home. it was home.

“i love that you protect me, sobachka” you whispered against his lips, down his jaw and neck.

you did not need the exaggerated tales of your terrifying capabilities to destroy to wear as armor anymore, for you had the best man you had ever known to guard you.

as his hand wove into your hair and the other spiraling lower down your back, your breath hitched in your throat when he answered, “i can do so much more than that, my sea.”

nikolai settled on a simple quip, something guaranteed to make you smile. as a boy, he dreamed of a girl who would laugh at all of his jokes. when he grew, he figured many would be forged, a fallacy to fall in good graces with the king. he had yet to detect a lie within the giggles that left your lips.

the golden haired king would do anything to see you smile. he would pour hours into chasing perfection for you. once, he had even allowed toyla to confer with him about romantic poetry. despite the recitation being quite dreadful, you had laughed the most you had in a long time that day. now, just to catch up with the smallest piece of that magic again, he brought a new poem to you each night.

“i thought that i had seen the most gorgeous sights as sturmhond,” he began, unable to help biting his lip at your smallest quirk of a smile, “the volkvolny showed me how to fall in love with the endless waves at sea.”

you sucked in a breath, immersed in the way he spoke so intentionally. he was entrancing. you loved to hear about his travels before you met him, immersed in his storytelling.

“but none of them were every as beautiful as the ones you make,” he finished with a grin.

instead of reaching up to smack him at the cliche, you ignored your first reaction and instead pulled him closer to you. with your hands tucked against the back of his neck, you allowed your thumb to ruffle his lose and unruly curls. here, he was soft and gentle, untouched by his role.

“our ship had four other tidemakers,” you voiced softly, recalling your betrayal of the darkling after sturmhond’s crew imposed a mutiny, “but you chose me to lead the crew. you told me that was because i was the most powerful, but i certainly wasn’t with the waves. my power was not as practiced with currents.”

“but they were the prettiest,” he chuckled with puppy dog eyes honoring his nickname.

you gaped at this confession, “are you telling me you picked me as a leader during a war because the waves i created were pretty?” the initial seriousness in your tone melted away with every breath.

“i remember calling them the prettiest,” he twisted your hips, swaying you with him, “didn’t help me that the girl that could make them was the most gorgeous one i had ever seen. darling, i’m a prince, so i will inform you now that i have met a lot of people.”

your laughter was more delicate now, trailing off as you found direction in his eyes, “i had not been trusted with currents in years,” your voice softened, “he wanted my power elsewhere. i hated all of it. do you know the only memory i have of my parents is my father guiding the currents with me while we fished outside of town as a child? i was so excited to create like that with my power but all i did was destroy,” fighting back any moisture building in your eyes, you continued, “you gave me that back, nikolai.”

nikolai felt his heart stir inside his chest. he caught up to one of his most favorite smiles of yours. a rarity it was, reserved for the quietest and most understated moments that you could hardly share due to the both of your occupations and temperaments.

“i love every part of you,” nikolai dictated, “every drop of saltwater in the sea could not compare.”

you repeated the phrase before stilling, “well, now you’ve gone and ruined this with another one of toyla’s fictions.”

“ah, ah,” he tsked, “i made that one up myself, love.”

#nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #storm and siege #rule of wolves #sturmhond #zoya nazyanelsky #shadow and bone fic #nikolai x reader

[cabinofimagines]

"Goodbye"

hiya i'm appearing once again from a bout of inspiration. felt like making someone cry and I'm also in desperate need of therapy so I was like "ayo let's make angst!" so yeah here you go ig

Pairing: reyna x gn!reader Request: No Warnings: none

~ day

You bit your lip, dropping your gaze as the silence became suffocating. It was over; that much was obvious. But if you gave in, if you admitted to yourself that fighting for her would never amount to anything more than fake affection and indecisiveness, you’d break. You couldn’t afford to do that, not now, not ever. If you admitted that this was hurting you so much that it hurt to breathe, you wouldn’t survive a week.

You watched her brows furrow, a glistening of tears rimming her cloudy eyes. She was conflicted, unsure if she was making the right choice or if she was making a decision she’d later regret. She wouldn’t look at you, a glance every now and then maybe, but she couldn’t see the damage she inflicted. She had promised you she’d never break your heart, but here she was, going back on her word and shredding your heart into tiny bits.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, the longer things went on, the more serious they got… I realized I just wasn’t ready for all of that.” She mumbled, voice laced with guilt. She sat down on a bench, breathing in the breeze as it passed, trying to soothe her nerves.

“If you weren’t ready I wish you would’ve just left me alone!” You spat, swallowing hard as you recoiled from your own voice, “You’ve made me… the happiest I have ever felt.”

“I’m sorry, I just-- I have to find a way to be happy too, my brain isn’t letting me be happy right now. I’m sorry I just have to do this.”

You tugged at your hair, your eyes hot with unshed tears, “It’s just unfair, in order for you to be happy, I have to be miserable.”

She winced, fiddling with the loose ends of her braid, “Y/n…”

You slumped beside her on the bench, “I just wish I could’ve made you as happy as you made me.”

She bowed her head, tears falling, “I was happy with you. But there are things I need to take care of before I try making anyone else happy.”

You stayed silent, fighting between logic and your emotions. Knowing that if you let her go, you might never have her again. Her feelings may change and she may move on. She might break up with you and immediately go to someone else. She could find you a few years later when finally has things figured out, maybe you’d rebuild what you had. But nothing was certain and living with that knowledge for what could be years, you didn’t want to.

She heaved a sigh, “You’ll always be my best friend, Y/n. I still want to talk to you, I still want you to complain to me about training and your fights with other demigods.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

She sighed, standing, but still not looking at you directly, “I’ll… I’ll leave you alone. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I never--” She stopped, pursing her lips.

And she left. You were finally granted the solitude of the green field in which you could cry without anyone overhearing. You could breakdown until you made yourself dizzy and sick and no one would ever know. You didn’t want to admit that what you never thought would happen, actually happened just then, but seeing her walk away just made it all too real. This wasn’t “see you later”, this was a “goodbye” and that much was clear.

~

#angst #reyna #reyna x reader #reyna avila ramirez arellano #heroes of olympus #pjo imagine #reyna hoo #admin day #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson imagines #imagines #one shots #blurbs #pjo #pjo fanfic

[suttttton]

Today’s episode made me weep thinking about Jon and empathy and love and his decision to betray everyone else, so I wrote this fic that made me outright sob onto my keyboard. (It’s not quite completed, but I wanted to get something posted on episode day, so enjoy!)

When they lay down to sleep that night, Jon can tell that Martin is afraid. Of course he is—any number of things could go wrong with the plan they’d all laid out together. Georgie and Melanie might fail to explode the gas main. Jon might be drawn into the pupil despite Martin’s precautions. The plan might not work, might not rid them of the Fears at all. Or it might work too well, and kill Jon in the process.

Martin doesn’t voice any of those fears, but it’s clear he's realized this could be their last night together. He holds Jon close, stroking a hand over Jon’s back and occasionally pressing kisses into Jon’s hair until Jon feels him relax into sleep.

Jon doesn’t sleep. He just watches Martin, trying to memorize the dark freckles sprinkled across his face, the way his hair curls over his forehead, the soft round slope of his cheek. Warm and close. Peaceful.

He allows himself, briefly, to imagine another life. No fears, no trauma. No apocalypse. Curling up every night with Martin without any of this awful urgency because there will be endless nights to follow, endless mornings held in each other’s arms.

Martin is trying to give him that reality. A life without the fears.

He wishes he could accept that. He wishes he could have given Martin something better. He wishes—

A tear runs down the side of his face, settling warm against his hairline.

Tomorrow, Martin is going to wake up, alone. He’ll start to panic when he realizes that Jon is nowhere in the tunnels. He’ll climb the tower, dread pooling in his stomach, praying to anything listening that he’s wrong, that he won’t be too late.

He will be too late, though. By the time Martin arrives, Jonah Magnus will be dead, and Jon will have taken his place as the pupil of the Eye. The betrayal will break Martin’s heart.

With that thought, Jon presses his face into the fabric of the sleeping bag, muffling his thick, unsteady breathing. Martin loves you, how can you do this to him?

Martin will be angry with him. More than angry. This is Martin’s one chance to be happy, his one chance to get back the life that Jon took from him. And Jon is going to ruin it. He’s going to doom Martin, and all the others, and the world.

Martin is going to hate him.

Martin is going to hate him, and he’ll deserve it.

The way they’d looked at him when he’d suggested his plan to destroy this world and the Entities along with it. More proof that he’d lost his humanity and was slipping further and further into being a monster.

“You’re talking about killing the whole world,” Georgie had said.

As if he hadn’t already killed the whole world.

He wonders if he’s just a suicidal coward, terrified of living with his own guilt. Certainly, he can hardly stand the feeling of existence, anymore. The ever-present call of the Eye in the Panopticon high above. The constant hum of background terror, the awareness of every bit of suffering happening in the world. The knowledge that this is his fault. His curiosity and his questions and his endless need to know have doomed everyone.

It’s too much. It makes him want to dig his nails into his skin and tear.

But suicide is a human consideration, and Jon is certain that, whatever he is now, it isn’t human. If he was human, he would want more than anything to protect the man he loved. He wouldn’t sacrifice his friends for the sake of strangers.

When they voted to save this world, Georgie and Melanie were thinking about Celia and Arun and everyone else they’d tried to protect. Basira was thinking about Daisy, about Daisy’s victims. And Martin—Martin was thinking about Jon.

“I can’t actually imagine ever making a decision that I knew meant losing you.”

Martin’s words ring in Jon’s ears, and his breath hitches in another sob. He wishes he could just damn everyone for Martin’s sake. He loves Martin. He does, he does, he does, but… He can’t doom a thousand worlds over it. He can’t.

The amount of suffering the fears have inflicted is larger than any human could imagine, too big for any of them to comprehend. But Jon Sees it all, on a level that is vast and terrifying, but also intimate, personal. Jon Knows every victim of this world, Knows how they lived before the apocalypse, Knows what they fear and why.

Jon imagines that level of suffering, multiplied by thousands, and he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

The only way to stop the suffering is to destroy this world and everyone in it. Jon isn’t lying to himself that this decision is kind or humane, but it’s the only decision Jon can make. He wishes--He wishes he wasn’t alone in that.

More than anything, he wishes he wasn’t alone in that. He wishes he had the others beside him, that this decision wasn’t a complete betrayal of their wishes. They’ll all be furious with him, and he knows from experience that it will feel like being torn apart. None of them will want anything to do with him, after that. Even Martin, probably, won’t want to see him ever again, and that more than anything will feel like losing everything.

But Jon has been alone before. He’s spent most of his life alone. He can handle it. He won’t have any other choice, really.

He’ll miss them, deeply, desperately, but Jon knows he’ll be okay. They’ll all be okay.

And soon enough, the dead world will finally rest.

Jon presses a soft kiss to Martin’s cheek, careful not to wake him. His heart seizes with grief, but he swallows it back. He wipes the tears from his eyes, takes once last long look.

He leaves.

#tma #tma spoilers #mag 200 #tma fic #my fic #i am not remotely exaggerating when I say I was crying the entire time I wrote this fic #emotions are high today #let me know if this makes you as sad as it makes me #i'm too emotionally burned out right now to be able to accurately judge it myself #suicide mention cw #self harm cw

[engie-ivy]

The Ministry’s new legislation messes up Remus’ plans, but Sirius is having none of it.

(Short Wolfstar fic, maybe a bit of angst in the beginning, but overall Fluff!)

Unlawfully Wedded

The door opens and Sirius’ voice echoes through the flat. “Moony! Guess what? Your favourite brand of chocolate was on sale! Does chocolate have an expiration date? Otherwise, I hope you’re hungry, because-”

Sirius stops talking when he sees Remus, huddled in on himself on the couch, not looking up. “Moony?” He asks, worry lacing his voice.

Remus just crouches in on himself even more.

He hears Sirius put down the groceries, and then his approaching footsteps. “Moony, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Remus can feel him sitting down next to him on the couch. Not really able to speak, he just nods at the copy of The Daily Prophet lying on the table.

With a frown, Sirius picks up the paper to read the article on which it’s opened.

Ministry Passes New Legislation Making It Illegal For Lycanthropes To Marry

Effective immediately, the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has expanded its Lycanthrope Act. According to this new law, people infected with Lycanthropy will no longer be allowed access to marriage.

By sharpening the legislation, the Ministry recognizes the danger of Lycanthropes using matrimony to pose as normal families, and thereby infiltrating our Wizarding communities. The Ministry has decided it must prevent encouraging or aiding Lycanthropes in the formation of their “packs”. These packs are known to be infested with lawlessness, violence, and immorality. Moreover, the Ministry hopes to send a clear message that breeding among Lycanthropes is undesirable, as Lycanthropes might pass on their infliction to their offspring, and raise another generation of unscrupulous creatures.

When asked about the necessity of this law, Dolores Umbridge, its initiator, smiles. “Of course one may wonder. Marriages are rare among Lycanthropes. After all, who would want to marry a Werewolf? But it is also about sending a message. Marriage is for love, and creatures who are biologically incapable of feeling that emotion should be excluded from it.”

Furiously, Sirius throws the paper back on the table. “Such bullshit! Don’t they have bloody fact-checkers at The Prophet?”

“Wouldn’t have mattered if they did,” Remus says. “All literature on Lycanthropy is terribly outdated and biased anyway.”

“Moony,” Sirius says, his voice now soft. “I don’t know what to say. I can tell you that it’s all nonsense, all lies, but you already know that. And I know it doesn’t change the fact that right now, it just sucks. I’m sorry.”

Remus doesn’t reply, and they just in silence for a while.

Then, Sirius gently bumps their shoulders together. “So, ehm, I know that any such discriminatory legislation sucks, no matter the contents, but... was it something you think you maybe would’ve wanted? Someday? Getting married, I mean.”

Remus bites his lip. It’s ruined anyway, so it doesn’t matter if he knows, right? He gestures towards his jacket, hanging on the coat rack by the door.

Sirius looks at him in a silent question, and Remus gives a small nod. Sirius gets up and walks over to the rack.

Remus doesn’t dare to look, and stares down at his knees. He hears Sirius’ sharp intake of breath. A moment later, Sirius sits back down next to him, his hands clutching a small, black box. His hands are trembling as he carefully takes out a silver ring, holding it between his thumb and index finger.

The ring has a simple elegance, but at the same time a sort of captivating beauty. Just like Sirius, Remus had thought when he picked it out.

“How were you going to ask?” Sirius’s voice is unsteady.

Remus shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It matters to me,” Sirius says.

Remus hesitates.

“Please, Moony?”

“Not anything extravagant,” Remus shrugs. “I thought that maybe this weekend we could’ve gone by that deli to pick up those cheese sandwiches you like so much, and then we could’ve gone to that park at the outskirts of town, and maybe walk around the lake? We could’ve stopped at that bench overlooking the water and watch the sunset. And then I suppose I would’ve gone down on one knee, and, well... ask.”

“What would you have said?” Sirius sounds breathless now.

Remus laughs wryly. “Nothing you don’t already know.”

Sirius just looks at him, silently urging him on.

“You know I’m shite with words,” Remus eventually says. “But I suppose I would’ve wanted you to know you’re my best friend, and you somehow make everything better, and I never want to do without you anymore.” Remus runs a hand through his hair, allowing the words to come. “I always had these walls up, you know? I would’ve tried to explain that I never thought another person would be capable of making me feel this way, never thought I’d allow myself to love someone so completely and unapologetically.” He shakes his head. “But that’s not... That’s not even what amazes me most about being with you. I would’ve told you that it’s not even how happy you make me, it’s how happy I know I make you. Like, I don’t feel like a bother, I don’t feel like I should be grateful that you seem to want me around, because I know that everything you’re giving to me, I’m giving to you as well. You show it to me every day. I would’ve told you that you make me feel valued, important. That I’m not afraid to want you, to need you, as much as I do, because I know you want and need me just the same.” Remus lets out a small laugh. “Then, if you’re still with me by the end of all that, I would’ve asked you if you’ll marry me.”

“Yes,” Sirius chokes, barely audible through the lump in his throat, his cheeks glistening with tears. He scrapes his throat. “Yes, Moony. Yes, I will.”

Remus can’t help the surge of delight at hearing that three-lettered word that under other circumstances would’ve ensured his everlasting happiness. Caught up in the moment, he takes the ring as Sirius gives it to him, and slides it around Sirius’ finger, where it belongs. Both men stare at the elegant ring around Sirius’ slender finger, with blissful expressions on their faces.

Until Remus shakes himself out of it. “No, Sirius, it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s no use. We can’t.” Once again, their lives are held back by what Remus is.

Sirius makes a dismissive gesture. “Who cares what the Ministry thinks? We’ll hold a ceremony! We’ll ask one of our friends to officiate it! We’ll write vows, we’ll exchange rings, we’ll feed each other wedding cake, we’ll celebrate with all of our loved ones! Who cares if the Ministry won’t accept it? It’ll be real to us. You’ll be my husband, and I’ll be yours.”

Fierce determination is a very good look on Sirius, Remus decides. He can feel tears well up in his eyes at the intensity of his feelings for this man. “I love you,” is all he says.

“Good,” Sirius says, wiggling his finger with the ring in Remus’ direction. “Because you kind of signed up for forever now.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #lycanthropy #hurt remus lupin #wolfstar fluff

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.

#katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #anime x reader #anime #x reader #angst #katsuki bakugou x female reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugou

[letthebodyfall]

Those who were responsible for this will die. They will perish in the most agonizing way that they would ever imagine. By her hands, she will- The door opened, the quietness of the creaking loud to her ears.

Masterlist

Part 4

CW: A brief description of injury.

She swore to herself that those who hurt him will pay. And pay they will, in due time. But for now, she has a husband to take care of.

---

They settled into a routine rather quickly.

It wasn't difficult considering how accommodating Nightshade was when he started living in her home. She's a freelancer, she said one night while she made dinner. An artist.

When asked about how she managed to afford this apartment through her wages as an artist, she merely turned to his place at the table and grinned.

---

Today was long.

It was tiring, exhausting, and every word that is synonymous to bone fucking tired.

Due to several bomb threats, school was cancelled for a week, which means many of the semi-active villains had all the time throughout the week to wreak havoc.

It didn't help that many of them were some of the more powerful villains on the roster, so them having the opportunity to do shit at the same time was worrying enough that most of the major agencies were put on high alert.

So far Nightshade was keeping her end of the deal so Voltage didn't have to worry much about being murdered by his in-laws during such a busy work week.

He, Savillon, and Carver were on top of one of the smaller buildings in the city keeping their perimeter, with Carver carefully nursing one of the gashes Brightbolt managed to inflict on her just minutes before, but making sure to make her grievances known by the sound of her active swearing.

"You can scream poetry instead of swearing, you know," Savillon chided, eyes gazing the citizens on the streets and long fingers twirled long, blonde locks.

Even without looking, he could tell that Carver was grimacing while giving him the finger.

Voltage just snorted as he rolled on the balls of his feet. It was near end of shift and he was dying to get home, take a ridiculously hot shower, and maybe watch a movie.

He spoke too soon.

The next thing he knew was pain, pain, and pain.

Groaning as he pushed, pushed himself up, ears ringing from god knows what, chest heaving because he couldn't fucking breathe-

Eyes suddenly wild, he surveyed the scene, adrenaline pumping as what was once a quiet rooftop spot now turned to rubble. Massive chunks of concrete and steel in mangled heaps.

"Savillon!" His voice sliced through the silence that gathered, eyes desperately trying to find his comrades. "Carver!"

"Here!"

Head whipping to the side, he saw Carver's familiar mop of dark hair, an arm waving at him as she and Savillon pushed at a rather large piece of concrete roofing.

"You okay?"

"My foot's stuck." Savillon sneered, pushing at the concrete to release his foot but to no avail, cursing as none of them were particularly known for their spectacular strength.

It was rare to see him like this. Normally, he would be the one to calm the troupe, to keep the banter up, but seeing him this frazzled was almost sort of refreshing.

Stepping up, feet sweeping the smaller pieces of rubble on the floor, Voltage took flank at the other side and heaved, heaved-

"Stop what you're doing."

At her command Voltage stopped, though eyes furrowing at her direction. "We need to release his foot, no?"

"Yeah." But her eyes were hard, looking at his midsection. "But you're not equipped to do that now."

A cold chill ran down as spine as he stopped, breathed, and looked down.

Metal jutted out from his midsection, crimson waves of blood bloomed against his suit. He couldn't feel it, but knowing well enough that once is adrenaline subsided, it'll be a bitch.

"I think I'm going into shock."

---

He was late.

It was near midnight when he managed to get home. It took a lot of bitching and whining before he got the all clear. Broken and tired and with another round of medical leave, Maxwell wasn't feeling all the great.

Opening the door as quietly as he could so as not to wake Aleksandra, he shuffled inside. Slowly, slowly made his way to the living room.

"Max."

Head sharply turning to the direction of the voice. With wide eyes he stopped, mouth opening to say something before shutting.

She's seen the news reports, the footage.

The drone camera that often flew across the city gave her a clear view of where he and his friends were at.

She remembered smiling before, even thought about making them lunch for the next day.

Aleksandra heard about the ruckus with the semi-active villains from her siblings earlier on so she was prepared for the venting that usually happened on shifts like this, even started to prepare his favorite "venting soup" as she liked to call it.

It was for but a moment, her eyes away from the screen when she heard it.

The explosion rang out even from the footage and she felt as if every single cell in her body turned to ice. Dark, dark eyes glued to the screen as the world shifted, buckling, forcing her to sit onto the plush sofa.

She couldn't see him. Not from the smoke or the angle from the drone. From all around her the sirens blared, emergency personnel rushing to the scene.

But she heard nothing.

Everything was a dull, muffled sound. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't stand. Couldn't speak.

A frigidity engulfed her like a hand made of ice slowly, slowly wrapping around her heart.

Her phone never rang.

For hours and hours and hours, her phone never rang.

She called every single hospital that she could get a hold of. She called his superior, his friends, his coworkers but nothing. No one could provide her with anything.

She sat so still. Never leaving her place on the sofa. Waiting, waiting for a sign, a call, anything.

She didn't know when the anger arrived, roiling, burning anger slowly freezing into rage.

Those who were responsible for this will die. They will perish in the most agonizing way that they would ever imagine. By her hands, she will-

The door opened, the quietness of the creaking loud to her ears.

A foot shuffled in and then a body, and then the bright, bright red of his hair came into view.

It was like a floodgate.

Sensation flooded her all at once, air rushing through her lungs and heat rushing to her eyes.

He was here.

"Max." Her voice was calm, still, but her knees buckled the moment she tried to stand.

Aleksandra saw him rush towards her, catching her by the elbows, the warmth of his touch like embers stark against her frigid skin.

"Max."

"I'm alright." She never realized how soothing his voice can be, how much she craved to hear it. But she held out a hand.

She scanned his face, his body, taking note of the padding over his midsection.

Injury.

She'd have to take a look at that in the morning.

He saw her struggling, trying to find the words but nothing coming out. He could see the storm in her eyes. The conflict, the regret.

She held up her hand and he stopped, letting her asses him.

"Sleep," he heard her mutter, seeing her force a smile. "You need sleep." And without another word, she ushered him into his bedroom.

Before closing the door, he could swear he heard her breathe shake.

---

Hello! Thanks for reading this! Things are slowly building up tho I assure that this is far, far from the end of the series. I'd love to get some feedback or some suggestions for the series! I still don't know what to call this, honestly lol

I'd also love some ideas for possible heroes and villains and their names haha

Masterlist

Part 4

Part 6

#hero x villain #villain x hero #heroxvillain #hero #villain #heroes and villains #slow burn #and i mean slow burn #creative writing #writing #writeblr #writblr #writing community #enemies to lovers #domestic fluff #fluff #angst #injury #my ocs #original characters #ocs #oc #original work #no beta we die like mollymauk #heroes and villains being actual professionals #hurt/comfort

[mythicamagic]

Heatwave: a Tododeku fanfic

Summary: Todoroki's quirk comes in very handy during a heatwave. If Izuku could just calm down enough to reap the benefits, that would be great. Tododeku

Rating: T

Words: 1,700

Read here or on Ao3

AN: First time writing for this pairing, I hope you like it! I might add another chapter to this, not sure yet.

Heatwave

Izuku Midoriya wasn't exactly the type to curse a blazing orb in the sky for inflicting Japan with a particularly nasty heatwave. He left that sort of thing to Kacchan.

However, pair intensive training with a punishing system of high atmospheric pressure baking the concrete beneath his shoes and heating his already screaming skin from the overuse of his quirk- and Izuku found himself dangerously close to hurling a complaint at the sun.

He stumbled out into harsh glaring sunlight, thankful his training session was finally over for the day. His clothes plastered to his form, skin thrumming. He patted himself down, panting.

"You're not helping," he mumbled to his trembling legs. If his limbs could co-operate, that would be great. At least he hadn't suffered any broken bones.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Izuku gingerly carried himself across the courtyard to a water fountain- taking grateful gulps.

Without thinking too much about his surroundings, Izuku leaned away and collapsed onto the nearest available bench beneath the shade of a tree. He boldly sprawled onto the wood, letting it cushion his back- hinting at his state of exhaustion. Izuku never liked to take up too much unnecessary space.

The second soft curling hair met something sturdy beneath his head- he probably should've jolted away.

Oh...wow.

But a cool- frosty sensation bit into the back of his neck, heavenly upon heated, abused flesh. A faint gasp escaped him, swallowing a relieved groan.

He only knew one person at UA who could elicit such a cold temperature.

Tilting his head back, Izuku squeaked.

Todoroki didn't look up from his book, seemingly immersed in it. Faint flecks of snow and frost coated his right side, likely in use to keep him cool.

And I'm mooching off it!

"A-ah! I'm so sorry, Todoroki!" whipping his head up so fast his vision spun, Izuku shifted slightly to face him on the bench. "I didn't realise you were there- and not in a bad way! I don't mean to say that you don't have a presence- because you do! You're very striking and cool and-"

"You can lay back down again if you want to, it's not a big deal."

Panicked words caught in Izuku's throat mid-ramble.

Green eyes blinked, sliding downwards. Lay back down? But his head had been cushioned by Todoroki's thigh. Practically in his lap.

Todoroki appeared unruffled, tearing a calm, languid gaze from his book. His expression remained unreadable. "It's hot."

"Huh?"

"The weather."

"Oh! Yes, it sure is!" Izuku winced, loathing the squeak in his voice. Oh to have a quirk that could allow the ground to swallow him up.

Todoroki blinked slowly like a contented cat, tilting his head. "So...I don't mind sharing my quirk…" he elaborated, gesturing with one hand to his right, frosty side.

Izuku gazed at the layer of white clinging to Todoroki's leg, hip and arm. His heart warmed, stomach doing a somersault. "You'd really do that? But I'm… well, I'm kind of gross and sweaty from all the training," he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't have offered if I thought you were gross, Midoriya."

He stilled, caught off guard by the statement. Todoroki had a way of being incredibly direct, but it never really bothered him. Especially at times like these. Todoroki was incredibly kind, more so than he'd likely admit.

Due to the sun melting his nerves, Izuku accepted the offer readily with a hearty 'thank you!' Laying down again, he fought not to slump with relief and exhaustion the second his nape and damp hair met the solid, cold muscle of Todoroki's thigh.

Heterochromia eyes watched him briefly, before sliding back to his open book and continuing to read.

Screaming internally, Izuku fiddled with his hands, settling with lacing them upon his stomach. The silence roared loudly.

This doesn't have to be weird. He's just a friend. Friends do this kind of thing all the time, right?

Well, none of his friends. Todoroki was usually quite reserved with physical affection, Iida expressed himself through verbal concern or encouragement, and Uraraka did similarly since she worried about activating her quirk with the use of her hands. When she patted him on the back it was with a well placed palm.

But he'd observed Kaminari, Kirishima and Ashido, and they were aggressively touchy-feely in comparison, slinging their arms around their friends and lounging against each other.

Izuku tried not to take this rare moment for granted. He needed to talk about something. Anything!

"Ah- that's Hero's Journey volume 9!" he exclaimed, tilting his head back to sneak a peek at the cover of the book. "How are you enjoying it?"

Todoroki lifted a shoulder, "it's alright. I figure volume 10 will wind down with covering Hero retirement since this one is about marriage and kids. It's a little naïve in places though."

Sobering, Izuku instinctively switched gears, forgetting his embarrassment and nodding seriously. "I get what you mean. It doesn't go into nearly enough detail about what having a family can be like for Pro Heroes. Most of the top Heroes in the rankings either don't have kids or are estranged from them."

"Yeah...but I was referring more to the part where it speculated about pairing existing heroes together and imagining what quirk their children would have. It skipped over Quirk Marriages like they were nothing."

Reading the heaviness in Todoroki's voice, dark brows pulled together. Izuku tilted his head, injecting conviction into his tone. "When we make it as heroes, we can talk more about it. Shed light on the issue."

Mismatched eyes flicked down, meeting his. They warmed just a little, the corner of Todoroki's mouth tilting up at the corner.

"You almost sound a little heated there," he teased.

"Aha," Izuku scratched a freckled cheek, "was that weird? I'm not personally affected by it so it's probably none of my business- but I know it's important to you. I get riled up on your behalf."

"Don't overthink it- I'm glad when you do. Reminds me of when you screamed at me during the Sports Festival."

"H-hey, I didn't scream..."

"It was definitely a scream."

"A loud yell, maybe."

Todoroki gave a small noise that sent Izuku reeling, toes curling at the sound. Holy shit- that that been a chuckle?

"Anyway, I won't be having kids unless I adopt," the Half-Cold Half-Hot user muttered, circling back to the real conversation. "So this volume probably doesn't apply to me much."

"Really? I can imagine Endeavor not liking that," Izuku hummed, sharing a mischievous smile with him. "But then, you've never set out to do anything for his specific approval. You're living your life, with your quirk."

Something cool and smooth met his forehead like a soft icepack. It took a moment for him to realise that it was Todoroki's palm settling over his bangs. Izuku went completely still, speechless.

"You still looked warm, I thought this would help," Todoroki glanced away, holding his book with one hand. Was it just Izuku's imagination or did his unscarred cheek look slightly red? It was hard to tell from the angle without craning his head back even more upon Todoroki's lap and he was currently working on trying not to hyperventilate.

Hand. On head. Touching!

He positively combusted when a thumb started to stroke his damp brow currently marred with sweat, rubbing gently at the bridge of his nose. Izuku's freckled cheeks blazed red.

"You're doing that thing again where you get worry lines here," Todoroki muttered, continuing to move the pad of his thumb for emphasis. It felt so gentle. His skin sighed at the touch.

"I-I was just...hoping this wasn't inconveniencing you or anything…" Izuku lied, voice thin. Oh no. Those darn jitters and confusing feelings were acting up again, sending a migration of butterflies up from his stomach into his throat.

For a while, it had been hard to pinpoint that he got flustered around Uraraka because she was a girl- a pretty girl- and one that paid attention to him, but it didn't go much deeper than that in terms of romance.

Todoroki was different. When Izuku thought about him, he admired his strength and values- how far he'd come in owning his successes and slowly breaking free from the shackles of the past- but such thoughts were accompanied with a weird yearning.

Todoroki was one of a kind. Beautiful when he flourished. Izuku admired him as a fellow student and rookie hero. But then the jitters came, followed by sweaty palms and a deep yearning. A yearning for what, Izuku hadn't been able to fathom. He just felt like brushing the hair out of Shouto's eyes or leaning against him or-

- or kissing the exposed skin of his neck. That would be nice.

Swallowing thickly, his heart stuttered when that thumb paused.

Dark grey/turquoise eyes shifted back to him. Todoroki remained unreadable, sometimes able to be a calm sheen of ice- others an explosive force of passion and anger. "Like I kind-of said before, I wouldn't do this if you were inconveniencing me. I just wanted to do it."

You...wanted to touch me?

"Besides," he continued in a quieter tone, "you're the one who encouraged me to act like this. Embracing all aspects of myself and being more upfront with stuff."

Izuku felt the need to say something despite the dryness of his tongue. "I'm glad," he exhaled slowly, feeling as if he were talking robotically- heart going a million miles an hour. "Because it's nice. I uh, I really like it."

That's an understatement of the century.

Todoroki didn't say anything more, but his thumb resumed stroking the worry lines on Izuku's brow, smoothing them out. Izuku blinked, smiling a little. Lulled into a relaxed state, dark-green lashes drifted half-closed. They then shut completely, tension leaking out of his overworked body. Warm breaths evened out.

Unbeknownst to him, Todoroki set down his book and reclined slightly against the bench, gazing at Izuku's sleeping face before looking at high branches. He tilted his head back, appreciating the refreshing summer breeze and basking in the dappled sunlight that played over his face and the freckles of his long-time crush.

#Tododeku #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #todoroki x deku #todoroki x midoriya #bnha ships

[just-vibingfr]

Ok ok I want 23 13, and i forgot the number but it said like I’m sorry I’m such a burden so yea with jj maybank im a sucker for angst

Same! Like mood 25/8 is angst, angst, angst!

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape, suicide, self harm, close friends and family thinking you are a liar, ANGST ANGST ANGST, cursing, reader will be using They/Them pronouns.

A/N: I went really angst in this one, this will be all angst with no fluff, at all, like none. Please do not read if anything mentioned will trigger you. This is going to be one of the last OBX fics for a few weeks, I’m going to finish the other four requests I have then I will be writing some Harry Potter Marauders Era stuff! Thank you all for being so patient! I love you guys ❤️ 💕 Bold will be flashbacks!

ABDUCTED

Prompts- 13:God I wish that you had thought this through before I went and fell in love with you. 23:I was kidnapped, I was r@ped! 49: I-I-I’m sorry I’m such a burden

JJ POV:

Thirteen weeks. Thirteen fucking weeks. That’s how long it’s been since they went missing. God, all I can think about is our last conversation.

“I slept with her okay?! I cheated on you and I don’t regret it. At all. You have been nothing but a pain in my ass trying to fix me. Setting me in a path to what, redemption?! Well guess what it’s never gonna fucking happen because I’m a no good, dirty, pogue! My whole family has been doomed to live here, always poor, always a bunch of dead beat losers! I cant be fixed, this is my destiny, so go fuck yourself and you pathetic hopes and dreams and morals! Because none of us liked you anyways, we were only using you to help us grieve after we lost John B. He’s back now, so we don’t fucking need you okay?! I don’t need you! I never have and I never will!”, I ranted. I’m angry at my dad, angry at myself for cheating, angry at Rafe for getting away with everything, angry at Ward for being a bastard, angry at Y/N for making me fall in love with them. I am just so angry. I didn’t mean to take it out on them, but they were there. They’ve always been there even when I treated them like shit. That’s the problem, they were there. I don’t know what to do, I’m so used to pointless hook ups, empty relationships, and abusive behavior, that when someone puts me in a freaking pedestal like I’m actually worth something I flip. I have been looking down for the past five minutes. All I know is their muffled sobs, how their eyes are probably red rimmed and bloodshot, how they’re probably pulling on their wrists like they do when they’re stressed. If I look up I might just crack. “God I wish that you had thought this the before I went and fell in love with you!”, they screamed, letting out all of their emotions. “You said I was different, you said you saw a future together! You told me you fucking loves me! You fucking piece of shit! I hope you get everything you want in the sickest sense! I hope you remember me and feel nothing but pain and guilt! I’m done with you Maybank!”,Those words cut deeper than any blade or bullet could. Being told those venomous words by the person I love most in the world hurts, but I deserve it. I hurt them more than anything, I broke them.

But, now I see truth in their words. Every time I think of them all I can feel is pain, guilt, and remorse. It was all my fault.

Y/N POV

I stumbled through woods. Safety. That’s all I can think. Safety. Safety. I kept stumbling around going anywhere, anywhere as long as it’s away from fucking Jules. That’s what they would call my kidnapper and rapist, Jules. He earned that name because he would take a piece of jewelry off of every virgin he raped. Pathetic. My lower half ached, my mind fuzzy, my wrists scarred. Thirteen weeks, that’s how long I’ve been missing. Thirteen weeks or rape and abuse. Twelve weeks of self harm. I started slitting vanes on my ankles, and the back of my knees, to feel something. Something other than the pain he caused. Self inflicted pain was a way out, a way to still have freedom and independence. Sick and twisted, I know, but it was my way of rebellion. I started to break down crying in the middle of, woods?! It these woods are familiar and I can hear the sound of the ocean. Outer Banks… Outer Banks! Thank God! I’m home. I’m safer, I’m back. I kept stumbling around, my tears making it harder to see. Up ahead I saw what looked like porch lights. “Help! Help!”, I yelled out, although the dryness of my throat mad it extremely difficult.I sped up, basically running to reach a sense of haven. Once I arrived at the house I realized where I was. The Chateau. Anywhere but here. But I needed help, and I was lucky I even found my way here. I knocked on the door, actually I pounded on the door. I was desperate. I heard shuffling and then the door opened revealing a very disheveled Pope, Kiara, Sarah, John B, and JJ.

“Y/N?! How-What-! Just- just come in!” Pope said frantically .

“What happened?!”, Kiara and Sarah said in unison. The boys nodding their heads in agreement to the question.

“I-erm- I was kidnapped, I was raped. I was held in a where house with the other girls. This bitch named Jules was the one in charge. He would take turn with the girls. It was terrifying. I thought he was going to kill me once he saw me helping one of the girls with her miscarriage. I had already had three or four myself and a few of the girls actually gave birth in that where house. The youngest to have a baby was eleven. Eleven fucking years old. I just ran out of the door one day, I got shot. It’s been a few days, maybe five or six? All I know is that I had to burn the wound to stop the bleeding. And I feel really sick right now. I think I’m going to vomit.”, I said before passing out.

I woke up in a hospital bed. The lights burning my eyes. The sheets clean. Someone had bathed me and changed my clothes. I felt clean, it felt good. Everyone scrambled to get up at my sudden consciousness. Looking at me with that pity in their eyes. That pitiful look that made me regret telling them. I didn’t want their fucking pity, I just wanted them to know I have new boundaries, and as my friends they deserved to know. The doctor came rushing in, asking me to explain what happened. I explained everything, the trauma bringing ugly sobs. I didn’t care. I had just been through hell and back, I was allowed to shed some god damn tears.

I was discharged later that day when they had diagnosed me with PTSD, anxiety, ADHD, and self harm. Yay. Weeks went by with my friends checking up on me, never leaving my side: I loved them all for it, but I could see the look of boredom in their eyes, the look that said as soon as I was good enough to be on my own they would leave me to my own devices. It hurt, everything did. I didn’t deserve to put them through this, watching me fall apart. I didn’t deserve this. I needed to end the pain. I had to. And I needed to do it now. I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, went to the nearest flat surface and began writing.

“ I’m sorry I’m such a burden. But thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for supporting me. I didn’t really get to know you before John B and Sarah, I see that I really missed out on some good people. Kie, you have been nothing but amazing to me. I can’t thank you enough. Pope, you are like a workers mix of older brother, younger brother, and dad. It always amazes me how you can be protective as fuck, need protecting, and are always prepared with that mind of yours. JJ, I’m sorry. Sorry that we ended things on such terrible terms. You deserve the world and I couldn’t give that to you, I truly apologize for holding you back. But you did break me that night, I was going to end it then, but I was abducted. Ironic how I’m ending it now. I love you all and wish you the best! “

Love, Y/N ❤️

I folded the letter and set it on the island with the pen. Then I crawled into the tub, slit my wrists, and let the darkness take over, sweet, safe, darkness.

@hannahnikohl

#kiara outer banks #outer banks #pope heyward #jj maybank #john b routledge #sarah cameron #pogues for life #outer banks angst

[fanmoose12]

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

He was wasting precious time. His primary object was Eren and getting to him before the last hope of humanity had his ass kicked by Marleyan tech or another shifter. His second no less important task was finding Eren's brother and playing a little shit show for his Marleyan superiors.

Eren was already being taking care of and Levi had Zeke in his line of sight. All he had to do was swoop in and get the bearded bastard.

Still, the time was of the essence. Every second wasted meant another useless death. And he had enough of this massacre already.

He had to be focused, had to remain vigilant. But as he flew through the burning city his focus began to slip and his attention was occupied by things of no importance to his goal. He couldn't help but wonder - that small cafe that was just exploded by a thunder spear, did she use to frequent it? And that alley to his left, maybe it had led to her house? Did she even have a house here, in the inner city? Or did she live somewhere else, maybe, in barracks with her fellow warriors? Or, maybe, in a little house in the middle of a forest she used to tell him about?

It didn’t matter, he told himself, none of it ever did.

What mattered right now was the plan and following through with it. Everything else was meaningless.

Keep your head in the game, Levi reminded himself, gritting his teeth. He directed his gaze to the ground, where a chaos was unraveling at a more rapid speed that he had expected.

The swirl of people in white uniforms danced around the city. Some of them, armed with guns and rifles, attempted to fight back, others, less courageous ones - ran for their lives.

Each time one of them fell, receiving a bullet to the head, or getting buried under debris from blown up buildings, his heart stopped. Despite his insistent thoughts - she wouldn't care about you, she never did - he still looked for a mess of brown hair in the crowd.

He wasn't sure if his heart would be able to take it if he saw her there - amongst dozens of dead bodies.

She wouldn't care about you, she never did - and yet, he still couldn't treat her with the same indifference.

Keeping Zeke in his line of sight, Levi landed in the nearby alley. He took out his pocket watch, checking the time. His ride would arrive soon, and that meant—

Showtime, he thought grimly, releasing his cables and readying his blades.

It didn't lessen the pain hidden in the depth of his soul, but hurting Zeke, cutting and hitting him gave the catharsis he was waiting for ever since their last meeting.

First he cut off his left arm - that's for all the scouts that lost their lives because of you.

Then he went for the right arm - that's for Nanaba.

He moved to the right leg, cutting it down and making the beast fall on one knee - that's for Mike.

And that's - he thought - as he slashed through his left leg - that's for Erwin, you fucking dipshit.

The beast collapsed, plummeting face-first into the ground. Levi landed on top of him, taking out a grenade.

He plunged his blade into beast's body, afflicting the final wound. He removed the pin, thinking - that's for taking her away from me too.

The crowd around them swayed, the masses stood terrified in a face of their biggest defender losing so easily to a devil from Paradise. Levi would have even smirked, if this whole farce didn't disgust him so much. He would have enjoyed injuring the beast, if it wasn't a part of Zeke's own, carefully orchestrated plan.

The airship was fast approaching, and so Levi pulled Zeke's body out, scowling at the sight of his hideous face.

"You truly are one of a kind, asshole," Levi whispered to him. "I have never seen anyone uglier than you."

"There are some who enjoy my looks, Levi," the fucking monkey managed to say, despite half of his face missing. "One of my admirers used to be your friend once. Tell me, Captain, do you still miss her?"

Fucker.

Levi shoved his blade into bastard's stomach, going as deep as he could. God, he wanted another round with him. He wanted to beat the shithead until there was no sass left in him.

"I would shut up if I were you, beast. Or I'll be busy cutting your tongue during the whole trip back to the island."

"Careful with your language," Zeke advised with a disgustingly sweet smile. "Someone's watching."

Instinctively, Levi looked up. Immediately, he felt his throat close up because there, on top of the building he saw—

Messy brown hair, those stupid, too big glasses—

His limbs moved on his own accord.

"Take him," he instructed Moblit, kicking Zeke's half formed body to him.

"Captain, the airship—"

"One minute," he promised and soared into the air.

***

Goddamnit, but she didn't age a day. The same proud posture, the same determined expression.

She stood on top of a rooftop, a rifle in her hands. Not far behind her Levi could see the Cart Titan.

Was Hange the one who advised the shifter to use the hard machinery? Most probably. She was the one who knew about scouts’ fighting style the most. Knew their advantages, knew how to exploit their weaknesses.

No surprise in that, she was a scout for almost five years too, after all.

All these times she begged him to show his tricks, to explain how he could move so differently from the others, was it with a malicious intent too? Not to satisfy her abnormal curiosity, but to simply gather more intel?

Was there any moment out of thousands, where she wasn’t pretending?

The rifle in her hands trembled, as she saw him appear.

"Levi," she murmured, and his knees almost gave up under him.

Damn her, damn her to hell and back, but even after all the pain she had inflicted on him, after all these lies and betrayals she was still able to set his heart ablaze.

She was the only one who ever could.

"Hange," he said, swallowing down 'shitty four-eyes'. That wasn't her. Not anymore. He lost his four-eyes four years ago, the night before they've ventured to Shiganshina.

Before him now stood a stranger. A stranger he was still reluctant to harm.

"You knew this was going to happen," he told her.

"I guess this is it." Hange nodded.

She didn't try to shoot at him, didn't call for help.

She knew it would only delay the inevitable. She was always too smart for her own good. Apparently that part of her wasn't a lie.

But everything else was. That's why he did what he had to do.

With a heavy heart, Levi took a step forward.

***

"Ah, and here I was worried it'd be a boring trip with only Captain Brooding as my companion." Zeke tilted his head, offering the most charming of his smiles. "Professor Hange, seeing you is always a pleasure. I'd shake your hand, but," he shrugged, pointing at his tied hands. "I'm in a rather unfortunate predicament."

"Zeke," she chocked out, shifting her gaze from him to Levi. A heartbeat later, her eyes widened in realization.

Too smart for her own good, Levi thought, watching Hange deliver a vicious kick to Zeke's thigh, fiery despite the bindings on her own arms and legs.

Watching that was almost satisfying.

"Asshole!" she raged, kicking him again. "Scheming, pathetic betrayer!"

"You're the one to talk," Levi noted dryly.

At the sound of his voice, Hange froze. She calmed down immediately, bowing her head.

Zeke observed the two of them, a malicious spark in his eyes.

"So my earlier guess was right, Captain? You do miss—"

"Shut the fuck up," Levi warned in a low voice. "Or my previous threat would become a reality."

Zeke curled his lips in a smile, and, maintaining direct eye contact with Levi, he had the audacity to wink at him. “My lips are sealed.”

Levi reached to his blade.

"What is going on here?” Jean walked onto the deck, stopping Levi from using his very sharp weapon on their very precious charge. Jean looked around, frowning in confusion. His eyes widened, as they landed on Hange. "What is she doing here?" his face changed, jaw tightening.

"None of your business," Levi muttered, sheathing his blade and pushing Jean away.

"None of my business?" Jean repeated, glaring at him. "I think it is my goddamn business, when you go against the plan without discussing it with us first."

"Careful, Kirshtein," Levi narrowed his eyes. "Despite the stupid democracy, I'm still your superior. Meaning you will do as I say."

"Captain," Jean grabbed his elbow. "I know how you feel about—"

"You know shit," Levi hissed, his low voice almost getting lost amongst the celebration around them. Stupid Floch and his band of fanatical idiots. "This has nothing to do with my so called feelings. But we need to question her. In case you forgot, she is one of Marley's best engineers."

"Exactly," Jean retorted. "She's valuable to them. That's why you had to kill her. Without her they'd be lost."

Without her - I'd be lost too.

The ruckus around them had been growing louder and louder. It was getting hard to concentrate, even without the added distraction of Hange's eyes boring into the back of his head.

He swept his gaze across the deck, looking for Moblit. He needed someone to put an end to that merry festivity, he would have done so himself, but the way Floch and his friends shouted and cheered made him doubt that he'd be able to calm them down without throwing some mouth-breather the fuck out of the airship.

He motioned for Moblit to come closer, ignoring Jean’s enraged gaze, when suddenly, out of nowhere, he heard a sharp cry, the still familiar voice shouting,

"Gabi, no!"

Levi whipped his head around, his eyes widening as he saw Hange - somehow freed from all bonds - launching herself at Sasha.

He rushed there, the malicious voice in his head chanting - this is all your fault, all of it is your fault, it's your inability to let go that is going to-

He stopped when the thundering, earsplitting sound shook the previously cheerful atmosphere.

He froze, staring at the scene with dumb confusion. The smoke rising from a rifle clutched in child's hands, the bullet flying, soaring through the spot where Sasha was standing seconds ago.

She didn’t try to—

He allowed himself to take a breath.

She saved Sasha, he realized, staring at Hange, who wore the same perplexed expression as he did.

"What is going on here?" Armin's soft voice cut through the air, making every head turn in his direction.

"The Marleyans got onto our ship!" one of the soldiers reported.

"Should we throw them out now or—”

"They're just children," Hange spoke up. "They don't know what they're doing."

"Hange-san..." Armin gasped. "What are you—" he turned to Levi. "Captain, what is the meaning of this?"

"She's Marleyan engineer and strategist. I decided it'd be wise to capture her."

"Alright, we'll deal with this later..." Armin muttered, rubbing his forehead. "And about those children..."

"The girl almost killed Sasha," Jean said, coming to stand at Armin’s side.

"Don't touch her!" Hange cried out, covering both kids with her body.

"Don't order me." Jean spat. "You're not my superior officer. Not anymore."

"And yet I still know you, Jean," Hange stared him in the eyes. "I know you're not capable of harming a child. Think of what your mother is going to say."

"You know nothing about me!" he growled, his fists trembling and his face reddening in anger. "You lying, deceiving—”

"That's enough," Levi sharply interrupted. "Moblit, help me deal with our prisoners. There are a lot more of them than we’ve expected."

Moblit nodded readily, obeying his command without a question. As he led Hange back to her place, his grip on her was gentle and his eyes were sad.

Approaching the two children, Levi stared them down, silently ordering the girl to put down the rifle. She surrendered with an annoyed huff.

Her demeanor changed, however, as soon as Levi's gaze turned to her friend.

"Don't hurt Falco, please," she whispered, sniffling. "He isn't guilty, he's not like me."

"No one is going to hurt you or your friend," Levi rolled his eyes, scoffing. "We're not that much of devils."

Putting his arms around their shoulders, he led kids to the back of the airship.

As they were passing Zeke, the girl - Gabi, Hange had called her - stopped in her tracks.

Her lip trembled, as she gawked at the shifter. "M-mister Yeager? You're here too? B-but why?"

What a goddamn circus, Levi cursed.

He sighed, pushing them forward before the beast could even open his mouth and feed the poor kids a lie, or, worse, reveal the truth about his betrayal.

Once he tied the girl and a boy down, he closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath.

Two angry Marleyan children, the bearded beast and Hange fucking Zoe, a person he dreamt about every night he slept for more than two hours. And all of them were aboard one damned airship.

There was one thing Levi was sure of - one hell of a fucking trip was awaiting them.

#ha! i tricked you! #you thought this was going to be a marleyan!hange au but no! #this is actually my fix-it everybody lives/nobody dies au #with marleyan!hange on the side #also moblit is alive here too and i have two reasons for that #1) hange disappeared before the battle of shiganshina so there was no one he had to sacrifice his life for #and 2) i needed at least one character who would be nice to hange :) #also yeah i know it's a rewrite of attack on liberio and some of you may ask - but where is eren? #eren plays no importance to this story he has his own manga already this story is only about hange :) #also a new chapter is probably going to be out soon because i'm really invested #but school has been kinda hard so who knows :) #hope you like this! #levihan #levihan fanfiction

[rose7420]

Art Games

Request from @laurenandloki

When Y/n is an admirer of Loki's and falls ill. It's up to him to save her.

Y/n was dying. She was used to it.

Living with an incurable disease and standing at two and a half inches tall meant that you were practically screwed in healthcare. Her life wasn’t miserable though as you might think. Her momma was her best friend and took care of her to the best of her ability. She was there on the good days where they could scavenge the walls and explore to their heart’s content. But she was also there for the bad days where her heart couldn’t pump enough blood leaving her weak and stranded in her bed.

Today was a good day for Y/n as she crept through the pathways of her walls to reach a hole. She climbed out of the wall and walked silently onto the desk. Sitting there was none other than Loki. His black hair hung down from his face, blue-green eyes scrunched in focus as he stared down at the game he played.

Y/n had found the activity odd as she had watched him time and time again. Now, she was intrigued. Each little piece connected to the others to form a masterpiece of art. Each time he finished one of these ‘art games’ he would hang them on his wall using magic. Her eyes had bugged out of her head the first time she’d watched him. Green enveloped the finished piece of art and kept itself together as it plastered itself to the wall. She always loved to see the accomplished look on Loki’s face, like he was proud of himself.

He tucked a strand of dark hair behind his ear as he fiddled with a piece of the art game between his fingertips. Y/n sat quietly down behind the cup of pencils, effectively blocking herself from Loki’s view. She squinted to see what piece Loki held and then tried to figure out where it went on his board. Her eyes roamed the already set pieces before finding the correct spot. She had to stop herself from standing and going to help Loki out.

Momma forbid her from ever revealing herself to him. She knew of her whereabouts when she ventured off these nights; only allowing her to go as long as she promised to keep hidden. And Y/n did just that. Loki rubbed his eyes wearily before she watched him rise to his great, intimidating height. Just the sight of him standing so tall reminded Y/n of why borrowers kept to themselves and never approached humans.

After stretching his long arms and legs he walked away and settled himself into his bed. A click turned the lights out and left Y/n in darkness. Y/n stood and made to climb back into her hole but a sudden urge stopped her. A burst of courage surged through her and she turned and sprinted to the piece Loki had given up on. She gathered the unique shape in her arms and walked to the spot she knew it went. Kneeling, she set the place to the right spot and relished the satisfying feeling as it slid into place. Her heart was bursting with accomplishment and happiness as she walked away.

However, when she got home and pulled back the curtain they used as a door her body began to feel weak. Her heart felt fast and slow all at the same time. Her lungs demanded more oxygen that she couldn't supply and blood that her heart couldn't deliver. She didn’t make it another step as she crumpled to her knees.

“Honey?” She faintly heard Momma call. Footsteps rushed towards her and her vision blurred as she tried to peer up at Momma's knelt figure and worried face. The last thing she felt was the shaking hand upon her clammy forehead.

Loki looked down at his puzzle in confusion. He swore that piece wasn’t there yesterday. He could only chuckle as he realized his little admirer had helped him out. He plucked another piece up and set to work. Minutes later his sensitive hearing picked up on hurried footsteps and rapid breathing. One set of footsteps and two sets of breathing. One fast and the other slow. His eyes slid to the hole he knew was in his wall and stared in confusion and awe as a positively tiny lady emerged breathless carrying an even smaller unmoving girl.

He squinted to see them better. He didn’t recognize the woman but the girl…

It was his little friend.

The mother; he presumed, took tired and cautious steps towards him. He straightened in his seat, unintentionally making his shadow swallow both little forms whole.

“Please… you must help me. She’s sick… and dying.” The woman sobbed.

Loki nodded and held out a hand. The mom approached and laid her daughter down on the row of fingers. Before the mother could step on he raised the tiny girl to his eyes.

Her complexion was pale with sickness, and he felt the clamminess of her skin upon his own. And her breathing… it was so shallow and infrequent that he prayed the little one wasn’t too far gone.

“W-wait! What are you doing to my baby girl?” The mother cried from below. Loki broke from his trance to offer her a comforting look, he lowered his face so that it was somewhat level to the mother. He could see the dark circles of her eyes, and the paleness of her own face.

“I assure you, miss, that I only want to help. Can you tell me what’s wrong with her?” She did, making sure that Loki knew she had a heart condition.

“She will die? Even if I can save her now?” He said with a shaky voice looking down at her in his palm. How small and fragile she looked there. `

Her mother nodded.

“She admires you, you know?” The mother says.

Loki looks up confused. “Why on earth would she admire someone like me?” He asks.

“She’s interested in those puzzles you do… see’s that you’re smart. Her dad left us when she was only a babe. I’m glad she has a male figure to look up to in her life.”

Loki couldn't accept that this little one had just barely started her life and soon it was about to end. He thought hard, back to the spells his mother had taught him as a child. She was an achieved healer and knew much about the properties of mending wounds and fixing illnesses. Perhaps he could do the same for the dying life in his palm. His mother’s magic had always been a buttery yellow, kind and generous to anyone who needed it.

Loki’s was cunning and sharp. Meant to inflict harm rather than stop it. He gathered all those lessons in healing he could remember and set to fixing her heart.

Y/n awoke slowly. Her eyes blinked open trying to clear the blurriness away. And when they did she screamed.

She found two blue-green eyes staring right down at her.

“Momma!” She cried frantically looking for her mother. She had been caught by Loki, a giant. The gigantic fingers around her curled in effectively trapping her. Her heart was rapid and she feared she’d pass out from the exertion. But before she started freaking out too much the giant had laid his hand down onto the table and flattened his palm.

Without thinking she scrambled off, tripping from the height. She fell into a pair of sturdy, soft arms.

“Momma!” She said relieved.

Momma wrapped her arms around her and kissed the top of her head, then her cheeks. She hugged her so tightly that Y/n couldn't breathe anymore.

A gust of air tossed her hair.

Y/n turned around to face the giant...Loki again. His chin rested on the desk, closer than ever before. She buried herself into Momma’s side.

“It’s okay...He’s a nice giant. He helped you feel better. He saved you.”

Y/n looked at the giant man again, questioning.

“You saved me?” She asked.

He nodded and offered a warm smile.

“Tell him thank you Y/n,” Momma said firmly and gently at the same time. A tone only mothers could master. Since Momma trusted Loki, it made Y/n a little less nervous.

“Thank you, mister.” She said shyly and walked to his face watching him go cross-eyed to see her better. She giggled and hugged his nose.

“It was my pleasure Little Miss,” Loki said softly.

Loki grinned from the sudden embrace. He kept his voice low, afraid of hurting these tiny people’s ears. After learning that Y/n admired him and didn’t have a father he had unwittingly adapted to being sort of a father figure to her. Perhaps he could show her there was good in this world. He watched as Y/n retreated and latched herself to her mother’s side again.

“You can come out you know,” Loki said with a grin on his face. He had spied Y/n lurking in her usual spot behind the pencil container. He had always kept it filled for her, making sure she felt comfortable enough even if she didn’t want to reveal herself.

He watched as she stepped out and looked up at him, a red tinge on her cheeks.

“I’m having trouble figuring out where this piece goes… I need your help.” He held out the tiny puzzle piece to her. She hesitantly approached his fingers and he nodded to encourage her. She took it in both arms, heaving it up. In a matter of seconds, she had ambled over to where the piece belonged and set to place it properly.

“It seems having a different perspective helps.” Loki admired it out loud. He imagined that up here, the puzzle was just well… a puzzle. But to her, it must’ve been an entire landscape, a world of its own. No wonder why she was so skilled.

“So you like puzzles?” Loki asked.

She looked up at him confused.

“Whats a puzzle?”

Loki quirked an eyebrow and leaned in closer.

“What we’re doing… what do you call it?”

“An art game.” She said crossing her small arms.

He laughed and threw his hands in the air, surrendering before they could get into an argument.

“So you like art-games?” He corrected.

She smiled and nodded.

“Good. Because I have plenty more. Perhaps you would like to help me?”

And he swore that in his many years, he had never seen the sun shine brighter than that giddy, joyful smile he received.

#giant loki #male giant #gentle giant #female tiny #loki x borrower #giant loki x tiny reader #shrunken reader #loki oneshot #loki x reader #mom borrower #sick reader

[babemendesbarnes]

A two way deal | one shot

Paring: Bucky x DemonFem!Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Bucky is tired. He hasn’t gotten a single good night of sleep in decades, and he’s done with the nightmares. Hearing about a certain woman who makes deals that could get him what he needed sounds like a miracle. Only when Bucky does find her, it’s no miracle, and she’s no saint.

Warnings: 18+ only, SMUT, talk of religious subjects (devil, hell...)

A/N: This is inspired by the character Maze in the show Lucifer, I absolutely love her arc. This is initially a one shot, but I liked it so much I might write another part. Also my first smut. Tell me what you think!

The club lights flashed red and you downed your vodka shot, body getting warmer by the second. Excitement ran through your veins as the familiar feeling clouded your thoughts.

Something was different though.

Everything was so much stronger this time. The feeling so powerful you were forced to close your eyes, the fake human color being replaced by their true shade of black. 

You could feel his memories, almost taste how they haunted him.

The second he sat on the table across from you, everything slowed down. The music beat got sexier, tempting, as the air got thicker. His piercing blue eyes examined you from head to toe, searching for threats in your tight leather pants and black corset. 

You could see the disappointment in the brunette woman sitting with her legs on top of yours as she realized you would be busy. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, you whispered that you would find her later, gently patting her legs for her to leave.

Bucky didn’t stop staring at you for even a second.

"Didn’t take you for a club kind of man, Mr. Barnes."

If the super-soldier was surprised you knew who he was, he didn’t show it, his eyes still fixed on yours as you took him in.

He wasn’t dressed properly for the club, his dark jeans, black shirt, and leather jacket standing out from all the expensive suits you saw all night. And yet, the man looked better than anything you had ever laid your eyes on. 

The contrast of his apparent demeanor to the things you saw in his head was admirable. The former Soldat knew how to show just what he wanted to, his face not giving in the demons dancing on his mind.

His hands tucked in his pockets, you ponder if he’s still afraid of his own body.

Wakanda might have given him a new vibranium arm, yet you wonder if he still sees blood whenever he looks at it. 

"I heard you make deals."

Bucky seemed reluctant to speak at first, although his voice was still steady.

He didn’t want to be here, but to be honest, none of your clients ever did, so you were pretty used to this. The only reason they come to you is that they’re always just way too desperate, just like he is.

"You heard right, Mr. Barnes." you crossed your legs slowly as you called for the waiter to bring you a martini. "And a whiskey for the gentleman, please."

"I’m not drinking." you waved the waiter off, ignoring completely what Bucky had just said.

Surprising you was difficult. You’ve lived long enough to see just about everything, and well, you were created in the pits of hell, so there were not that many things that could amaze you. And yet, there was so much about the man in front of you that just picked your curiosity.

The brave Sergeant Bucky Barnes, the only Howling Commando that gave his life for his country. The infamous Winter Soldier, tortured and manipulated, stripped of his humanity. And now? A fucked up super-soldier with no family, no friends, and a man out of his time.

That’s something not even a demon sees every day.

The drinks were set on the table and you pushed his whiskey to him, watching him through your lashes, a smile planted on your lips as he took a big gulp. The tip of your red bottoms slightly brushing against his leg.

"Tell me, Mr. Barnes, " your body fell slightly forward, your tongue wetted your red-painted lips as his gaze followed every move. "what is it that you desire?" 

Bucky felt lightheaded.

The sound of your voice dripped with something he couldn’t recognize, and yet, so desperately craved. He suddenly couldn’t form words.

"I need..." Bucky felt nervous, "I can’t..." his mind going against his commands and his eyes focused on the contour of your lips, how soft your skin would be upon his touch. So lost in thought he forgot he should probably finish his sentence. 

You saw right through him though.

"You want them gone. Don’t you?" the world seemed to fade around your form. Your head tilted to the side as you so sweetly said the exact words he needed to hear. "You want the demons to go away."

Bucky never thought he could feel this again, to feel... understanding. And it only took a demon to do so. 

Rounding the big red seat and dragging your body closer to Bucky, your lips brushed against his ear. 

"You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?" His body stiffening as your nails traced his flesh arm. 

"I have." his words were a little bit harsher this time. Your eyes locked and your hand touched his chest, the sound of his heart beating faster, almost as loud as the music.

"Let me take care of you, James." your voice just above a whisper, his fate settled as he silently consented.

You got up and signaled for him to follow. 

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice, his body aching to be close to yours again.

This was not something he should feel. The priest of the small Brooklyn church he went to every Sunday morning used to lecture about how the Devil and his demons could lurk you in, bringing you to their sins just to drag you to hell. 

But it was Bucky who came looking for the wicked, all you did was welcome his desires with open arms.

You two walked into an elevator, and you instantly felt his stare on you.

The last bit of sanity in the 106 years old man screamed at him, begging him to run. Demons were not givers, whatever they gave, came with a cost, and for someone like him, owning a favor was not a possible option.

"What’s the price?" His hands began to sweat, your answer being able to end the last ounce of hope Bucky had.

The metal doors reopened, revealing a breathtaking penthouse. "Don’t worry about it, I have no interest on bring the Soldat back, Mr. Barnes."

That was all it took for him to finally exhale the breath he didn't even notice he was holding. 

Maybe stricking a deal with a demon could end well. Okay, probably not, but still. How the fuck did he even end up here anyway? 

Well, too late to back out now.

Bucky looked around, the Los Angeles skyline visible through the giant glass walls, a bar filled with alcohol he had never even seen before, and a large grey couch next to a bookcase filled with books from probably before he was even born.

You grabbed two glasses and poured a black licor on them. Opening a glass door, Bucky followed you as your arms leaned against the balcony’s railing, giving him his drink as you watched the city.

"What is this?" he reflected your stance. The usually loud noises of the big city down below now quiet, you're breathing the only sound he could hear.

"Something special." His suspicious gaze made you laugh, the sound alone being able to wash Bucky’s distress away. "Don't worry, tastes like wine."

You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, the soft Autumn breeze hitting your hair, the soft strands dancing in the air, hitting Bucky’s face a couple of times. 

"Can I look?" your voice broke over the silence and Bucky didn’t need to ask what you were talking about. 

"Haven’t you already?" you chuckled and a smirk played on your lips. "A little bit. Just the things I already knew. But for this... I have to see everything."

You knew what Hydra had done to the man. Although, by the few things you noticed about Bucky, you were pretty sure the torture inflicted upon him was not the biggest issue here.

"I would say going inside my mind is like walking through hell, but I’m guessing that’s not a problem for you."

Leading him to sit on the couch, Bucky noticed how you seemed to avoid answering the comment. 

Everything about you confused Bucky so much, and every damn word you said just filled him with more questions.

"Sit." 

You sat next to him, the tips of your fingers slowly touching the side of his head. If he noticed you wondered around his mind earlier without touching him, he didn’t complain about you doing it differently this time.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat as images started to flood his head.

Both your chest’s rising and falling fast, his anxiety at watching his memories traveling to you.

A small Brooklyn apartment. George, Winifred, Rebecca. Dark alleys. Steve. World War II. 107th. Europe. Hydra. Captain America. Howling Commandos. Fall. Hydra. Pain. Erase. Cryo. Isaiah. President. Cryo. Stark. Gun. Cryo. Erase. Red Room. Blood. Cryo. Fury. Bucky?. Steve?. Erase. Lake. Steve. Zemo. King. Winter Soldier. Siberia. Stark. Sam. Wakanda. White Wolf. Thanos. Shield. Walker. Karli. Sam. Captain America.

Bucky’s hands are shaking against the couch. 

As you open your eyes, you see his tear-stained cheeks, and only when his long fingers gently wipe your face, you realize yours were too.

It never felt this personal, to look into someone’s head. You just took what you needed and that was it. Not this time thought. An urge to give the man any possible comfort made you get up in a rush and almost fly to get a refill.

Bucky starts to calm down and when his eyes follow you, he finally sees a black shining piano in the corner of the room that weirdly seemed to call out to him.

"You play?" your voice took him out of his thoughts. He left the couch and took a few steps towards you, who was now leaning on the instrument.

"My ma taught me before the war." you smiled softly and told him to go ahead. "Oh, no. I probably don’t even know how to anymore." he all of a sudden felt shy under your gaze.

You walked slowly to him, taking his vibranium hand in such a natural way, Bucky wondered how you had never done that before. 

Taking him to the piano, you both sat down, sharing the small seat.

"This is not something you forget," leading his hand to the keyboard, you placed your fingers on top of his, pushing the keys down, and shortly, a soft jazz melody echoed in the room as your skilled hands moved in sync. "there are some things no one can take from you, James, not even time."

As both your hands kept making music, your eyes locked and Bucky forgot all about the definitions he heard all his life about the divine and the profane. 

Your smile felt like heaven, only your lips were sin.

His hand moved to the back of your neck, his eyes asking for permission you happily granted, your lips meeting as you pulled him to you.

The kiss was eager, your lips moving fast as you didn’t waste a second to open your mouth and welcome Bucky’s tongue. 

You climbed his lap, your hands running through his short locks as he kissed along your neck.

Lust almost felt like a drug. You were sure you were addicted. 

Between gasps and shivers, you fell to your knees and heard him take a shaky breath. Placing your hands on his face, you pulled Bucky down to look you in the eyes.

"When was the last time someone made you feel good, James?" Bucky gasped as your delicate fingers slowly undid his belt, your voice sweet like honey. "Answer me, baby."

"I... I can’t even remember it." 

You chuckled lightly, pushing his jeans down, your nails trailing along his strong thighs, wet kisses following the path of the fading red lines. "Let me make you feel good, James."

Your light touches and lust dripping voice made Bucky feel like he could come undone by this alone, his hands holding tightly onto the piano bench.

Your tongue traced the trimmed hairs on his abdomen, your own personal path to paradise, disappearing into his black boxers.  You pulled at his shirt, ripping and throwing it somewhere in the room.

"What do you want, James? Tell me." you pulled his boxers down, Bucky quietly moaned as his cock sprung free.

Your mouth salivated at the sight of Bucky’s hard cock, his impressive length making your walls clench around nothing, panties ruined at the thought of him inside you.

"Your mouth. Please, Y/N, I need your mouth." The desperation in James's voice only made you want to pleasure him even more, eager to hear his sweet sounds.

Your hands pumped him before your tongue traced the vein running along the side of his cock. You licked him top to bottom a few times, his pleas finally attended as you swirled your tongue over his tip, relaxing your jaw and taking him in your mouth. Each time going further down his length, you hollowed your cheeks, a raspy moan he let out going straight to your core.

"Fuck, doll." Bucky wrapped his hands on your hair, pushing you further down his dick, saliva dripping down his balls. "You look so fucking good with your mouth wrapped around my cock."

His sudden vocality only spurred you, moaning when his tip reached the back of your throat.

"That’s it doll. Come on, take everything." 

Bucky’s head fell back as you choked on him, his grip moving your head to take him faster, a familiar feeling of pleasure he missed so much clouding all his senses.

"Shit... I’m not gonna last long, doll." you took your lips off of him just for a second. 

With puffy, red, and wet lips, you glanced at him with lazy eyes, the sight alone bringing him closer to falling apart. "Come for me, Bucky."

Your lips wrapped around his dick again, and with two more hard thrusts, Bucky came with a groan. You swallowed every drop he gave you.

"Holy fuck." he swore as his breathing calmed down and you gave him a mischievous smile.

"Not exactly holy, Sargeant." you both chuckled and it didn’t go unnoticed by you the twist on his face at the use of his old title.

Bucky kicked off his jeans and picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. Your back hit a wall as he kissed your neck, biting and sucking on the soft skin. 

You moaned when he found a sensitive spot between your neck and collarbone, his mouth leaving red marks behind. You jumped out of his embrace and led him to your bed, throwing him into the mattress.

His stare never left your body. At every piece of clothing you removed, the blue in his eyes seemed to disappear even more, his pupils so blown out it reminded you of your own.

"You have been bad, Sargeant." 

You crawled into the bed, taking your time on getting on top of him. The feeling of your hot, wet core against his skin made Bucky’s cock impossibly harder. Your hand pulled at his hair, forcing him to look at you, a raspy moan escaping Bucky’s lips. "You like being bad, James?"

"No." his answer made you chuckle.

"No?" your lips kissed his jawline, licking every piece of skin you found, your teeth biting his earlobe. "But look at you, Sargeant, falling apart on my hands."

Your hands rested against his chest as you bent forward, guiding his cock into your core.

"Fuck." you both moaned as his tip slowly entered you.

Bucky’s hands had a tight bruising hold on your hips, he slowly helped you sink down his length.  You didn’t wait before moving your hips back and forth, loving the pain of being stretched out by him.

"Shit, you feel so good around me, doll."

Bucky pulled you to him, his mouth catching one of your breasts, biting and kissing your nipple, his hand caressing the other as you bounced on his cock.

You tugged harder on his brown locks as he started to thrust up, fucking you harder. You nearly screamed his name when he found that special place inside you, hitting it with every thrust of his hips. 

"You’re so fucking tight." Bucky let out a groan as your pussy squeezed the shit out of him.

Everything was way too much. You felt dizzy as you met his hard, frenetic thrusts. His cold vibranium fingers found your clit, drawing fast circles, bringing you even closer to the edge. 

"Bucky! Fuck, I’m gonna..."

You pushed his body down, your hands grabbing his throat and giving it just a little bit of pressure, his eyes rolling back, and his deep moans getting louder.

Your veins turned to fire, your whole body shaking as you felt the waves of euphoria taking over. You threw your head back, tears falling as the strong orgasm hit you, your eyes turning into their natural black as you stared at the ceiling.

"Come here, doll." he tried pulling you to him, but you just pushed him further down. 

Bucky pushed himself up, pulling you by your neck, his hands forcing you to look at him. Your breath hitched as his hands held your cheeks with a tenderness you had never known, his lips meeting yours in a soft, gentle kiss. Your mind was spinning at the sudden change.

Your breath caught in your throat as Bucky´s beautiful blue eyes stared at your empty ones like they held the keys to Eden. 

"You’re not scared of me?" the confused, bitter tone on your voice made Bucky’s heart break in two, cause he recognized that. He heard it in his own voice every damn day. 

"Are you, of me?" a tear fell down your cheek, his thump gently brushing it away. You knew every part of him, so the quiet 'no' you whispered made Bucky’s smile grow. "There you go, sweetheart."

For some reason, after that, everything seemed to change. Bucky turned you both around, your back hitting the mattress as he slowly pulled out, just to fill you up completely again.

His thrusts became harder and faster as he chased his own orgasm, driving you into your second one, but somehow, it felt more caring, personal.

Your nails scratched his back, leaving red angry lines behind, a reminder you would leave on him of this night. 

Your legs hugged Bucky’s form, urging him to hit deeper inside of you, if that was even possible. His vibranium digits finding your clit again.

"One more, doll." his hands brushed the hairs out of your face, his eyes filled with unfamiliar adoration. "Come for me." 

He kissed you gently as you felt his dick ripping you apart, ruining you just the way you liked.

You came again, milking his cock and triggering his own orgasm. 

"Fuck, Y/N!" Bucky came hard, chanting your name as his cum shot deep inside you.

After you both felt like you could breathe again, Bucky slowly slipped out and fell next to you on the bed.

His eyes had already started to close, his chest falling and rising evenly as he searched for your body, pulling you close to him.

You both fell asleep and for the first time in decades, Bucky’s demons didn’t haunt him in his dreams.

The sun was rising and you had been awake for a long time, your mind racing as the events of just a few hours ago played in your head.

Demons weren’t born. They were forged in hell. 

You were made with one purpose only, to serve Lucifer and torture the souls that lost themselves into perdition. The lack of your own soul was never a problem as you spent your days in the pits of hell. But now? Joining Lucifer on Earth showed you just how much you couldn’t have.

Bucky reminded you of what you couldn’t have.

As the man woke up, he felt an unusual sense of cold enveloping him, and that’s when he noticed your body was no longer pressed against his.

Opening his eyes, he noticed a small note resting on top of the pillow you had laid in, all night long, as he held you in his arms.

I’m not one to break a deal, your nightmares were gone for this night just like they always will be from now on. 

Don’t worry about your part of the deal, you’ve paid me already.

And before you get any ideas, I’m not a name on your make amends list, you can’t help me, Mr. Barnes. Do not come looking for me again.

Sweet dreams, James.

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