#I have come so far from where I was one year ago

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Missing Piece

616!Wanda x 199999!Fem!Reader

Summary: You've lost your wife Wanda. Leaving you alone with your twin boys to try and pick up the pieces. What happens when the Scarlet Witch comes looking for her boys?

Word Count: 10.4K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, R calls W Mommy, W uses pet names, enchanted strap use, Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, overstimulation, magic restraints, depressive thoughts/episodes.

A/N: Made this forever ago and forgot about it until like two days ago lol. I really liked the idea of this so I hope you guys enjoy~ Also I decided that world 199999 (which was the original MCU world number before MoM turned it to 616) is just a parallel world where no one died :)

Every night after tucking my boys, Billy and Tommy in to bed, I have a bit of me time. Sometimes I watch TV, sometimes I'll scroll through social media on my phone, sometimes I'll write because I was told that was supposed to help with grief, it hasn't so far, what helps the most is when I talk to her before bed, "I miss you Wands...our boys miss you too...of course they love their Mama, but you're their Mommy. You carried them for nine months, you were in labor for just over a day." Tommy was born first 12 minutes ahead of his brother Billy. "You gave so much for our boys and our life here and I wish you had never said yes to that mission after all these years..." I break down, quiet sobs wrack me as I curl up on her side of the bed. It still smells like her.

I let sleep take me as I have the same dream I do every night. Wanda, but not Wanda...some twisted version of her with black fingers, and she just seems off, but she's searching, as if she can see me? She's looking for our boys. Every morning just as she finds me, us, I wake up. Dried tears on my cheeks and my eyes red. The bags under my eyes have never been darker, but I cover them up as I get out of bed to start yet another day without my wife.

The alarm blares through the quiet of the room, jolting me awake from my restless slumber. With a heavy sigh, I reach over to silence it, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Another day begins, much like every other since she left us.

I stumble out of bed, the weight of grief still heavy on my shoulders as I move through the motions of the morning routine. It's a struggle to keep it together, but I have to be strong for Billy and Tommy. They need me, even though every fiber of my being aches for her presence.

As I make my way downstairs, the memories flood back, hitting me like a tidal wave. Wanda was always the light in our lives, her laughter echoing through the halls, her warmth enveloping us like a comforting embrace. But now, there's only emptiness.

I try to push the thoughts aside as I prepare breakfast for the boys, forcing a smile as they bound into the kitchen, their youthful energy a stark contrast to my own weariness. They chatter excitedly about school and friends, oblivious to the pain that lingers beneath the surface.

After they've eaten and headed off to catch the bus, I sink into the solitude of the empty house once more. It's in these quiet moments that the ache is most palpable, the absence of her presence a constant reminder of all that we've lost.

I find myself drawn to her belongings, unable to resist the pull of her memory. Running my fingers over the familiar objects, I'm transported back to happier times, when our love felt invincible, untouchable by the darkness that now threatens to consume me.

But amidst the despair, there's a flicker of something else. A determination, a resolve to keep going, if not for myself then for her. She wouldn't want me to wallow in sorrow, to let the grief consume me. She'd want me to live, to cherish the memories we shared and find solace in the love that still remains.

With a deep breath, I push myself to my feet, wiping away the tears that threaten to fall. Today may be another struggle, another battle against the pain, but I refuse to let it defeat me. For Wanda, for our boys, I'll find the strength to carry on, one day at a time.

The day went by quickly and soon enough the boys were home filling up our home with noise once more,

"Boys homework first or no ice cream!" I call from the kitchen when I hear them start to fight over player one controller.

"Awww but Mama!" They whined.

"So you boys don't want ice cream tomorrow night either I see." I hear them grumble and then the TV go off, the sound of the dining room chairs scraping as I look over my shoulder to see they're working. "There are my good boys." I turn back smiling as I carry on with prepping dinner. Suddenly something feels off. A pit in my stomach starts forming and I feel eyes on me, not the boys though these feel predatory.

I look up and through the window I don't see my own reflection, I see Wanda, the same one I see in my dreams.

My heart leaps into my throat as I freeze, the knife in my hand forgotten as I stare wide-eyed at the impossible sight before me. It's her, but it's not. The twisted version from my nightmares, black fingers reaching out like tendrils of darkness, eyes filled with a hunger I can't comprehend.

I feel a chill run down my spine as her gaze locks onto mine, a shiver of fear coursing through my veins. Instinctively, I reach for the pendant hanging around my neck, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the purple power stone embedded within. It's a comforting weight, a reminder of the power that pulses through me, but even it feels insignificant in the face of this apparition.

"What do you want?" I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. But she doesn't answer, only continues to stare, her presence suffocating in its intensity.

Desperation claws at the edges of my mind as I struggle to make sense of the situation. Is this some kind of illusion, a trick of the mind brought on by grief and exhaustion? Or is she truly here, some twisted echo of the woman I loved?

Before I can gather my thoughts, a sudden crash from the dining room snaps me back to reality. The boys, my precious boys, oblivious to the danger that lurks just beyond our walls. With a surge of adrenaline, I lunge forward, grabbing the nearest weapon within reach.

But as I turn back to face the window, she's gone, vanished into thin air like a wisp of smoke. The only evidence of her presence is the lingering sense of unease that hangs heavy in the air.

I rush to the dining room, relief flooding through me as I find the boys unharmed, their laughter filling the room once more. But even as I hold them close, a sense of dread lingers, a silent reminder that darkness still lurks just beyond the edges of our reality.

"Mama is everything okay?" Billy asks as I hold them, kissing the top of their heads.

"I just thought one of you got hurt. I'm happy you boys aren't." I lie to them as to not worry them, but Billy looks at me trying to search my thoughts. "Hey no mind reading little man." I ruffle his hair. "Everything is fine. If you boys are finished you can play one game, dinner will be ready in 15 minutes." The minutes tick by slowly as I finish preparing dinner, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. I glance at the clock, realizing that my boys are engrossed in their game, blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within me.

With a heavy sigh, I take a moment to compose myself before calling them to the table. As we gather for the meal, laughter and chatter resuming, I try to push the unsettling encounter out of my mind. But deep down, I know it's not over.

As we eat, the boys share stories from their day, their infectious joy momentarily easing the ache in my heart. I force a smile, savoring these small moments of normalcy in our fractured world.

After dinner, as the boys retreat to their rooms for the night, I find myself once again standing by the window, staring into the darkness beyond. The pit in my stomach returns, the unease settling in as I feel a presence lingering just out of sight.

The room is silent, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of the night. I close my eyes, summoning the courage to speak the words that linger on the tip of my tongue.

"Wanda, if you're out there, if you can hear me, please... don't hide. I don't know what's happening, but I can't face it alone. I need you, now more than ever." My voice trembles with a mix of desperation and longing.

The air remains still, the response elusive. I wait in silence, hoping for some sign, some reassurance that I'm not losing my mind. But the universe remains silent, withholding its secrets.

"Gods I feel like I'm going crazy Wands...how am I supposed to do this without you?" I feel the hot tears in my eyes, streak down my cheeks then suddenly a loud bang from the living room, the sound of a portal. "Stephan? Is that you?" It wasn't uncommon for Stephan Strange to pop in and check on me and the boys. Stephan had lost his love many years ago. Before I reach the living room, I hear the familiar sound of heels clicking on my hard wood flooring. Suddenly I'm standing face to face with the Wanda I've seen in my dreams...."W-Wands?" I questioned,

"A version. I've lost something precious to me and I've come to get it back." I look her over. It's Wanda, but not mine. As I get closer, Her hair is a different shade, her eyes are a little less of an emerald green and more of a sea green, this Wanda has a scar on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow.

"Oh...what has your universe done to you Detka?" I ask softly reaching out and she grabs my wrist with a force.

"It took everything from me." She seethed. "I want my boys back. I'm taking them." She tosses me aside like I'm nothing. Luckily with the power stone embedded in my chest. I push back, barreling back into her. Tackling her to the ground until I'm on top of her and it's then that she notices my stone, "You have the power stone...how? That's impossible. I've seen it kill people that touch it.

"I'm tough that's why my Wanda loved me." I had her pinned and used my own magic to subdue her. "I've been called the Violet Witch here for years. It became my code name."

"That can't be..." I give her a questioning look. "I'm the Scarlet Witch." She tells me, the scarlet witch? Wanda never said anything...? I stumble back off of her, reeling, "The Scarlet Witch." I let out a dry chuckle, "It makes sense, but I can't let you take my boys. If I loose them then That means I've lost my Wanda and them. I might as well die." I tell her,

"Wait so your Wanda is gone?" She asks. I nod,

"She was needed for a mission. I begged her not to go, we had retired from being Avengers 10 years ago when we found out she was pregnant. She told me everything would be fine. She promised me...and then suddenly I have Strange and Parker on my doorstep with Bucky and Sam behind them carry the casket." I feel my eyes blur as I walk over to the scarlet witch, "If you are another her then," I take her hands putting them up to my temples and ease my forehead onto her, letting my memories over the past ten years flood through her mind.

As our minds intertwine, I feel a rush of memories flooding into her consciousness. The love, the loss, the moments of joy and heartache that have shaped my existence since Wanda's departure. It's a whirlwind of emotions, a bittersweet symphony of love and grief that binds us together in ways I never thought possible.

For a moment, there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding amidst the chaos of her own turmoil. She sees the depth of my pain, the desperation to hold onto the fragments of a life that's slipping through my fingers.

But as quickly as it came, the moment passes, and she pulls away, her expression hardening once more. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says, her voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "But my pain is just as real. I've lost everything too, and I'll do whatever it takes to reclaim what's mine."

I feel a pang of empathy for her, a shared sense of anguish that transcends the boundaries of our separate worlds. But beneath it all, there's a primal instinct, a fierce determination to protect my boys at all costs.

"I understand your pain," I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging within. "But my boys are not yours to take. They belong here, with me, with their family."

She narrows her eyes, her resolve unwavering. "Then we're at an impasse," she says, her tone final. "I won't leave without them."

I take a step forward, meeting her gaze with steely determination. "Then I guess we'll just have to see who's stronger," I say, my voice echoing with a newfound resolve.

With that, the battle lines are drawn, two versions of Wanda Maximoff facing off against each other in a clash of wills and power. But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, one thing remains clear: no matter the outcome, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my boys and honor the memory of the woman I loved.

Her eyes meet mine, a mixture of pain and longing mirrored in their depths. The tear I wiped away lingers on her cheek, a testament to the shared sorrow we both carry. The silence stretches between us, heavy with unspoken emotions, and for a moment, time seems to hang suspended.

"I... I don't know if I can stay," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "But the offer, it means more than you can imagine. In my world, everything has crumbled, and I'm left with nothing but ashes and echoes of what once was."

I can feel the weight of her words, the burden of her grief, and I tighten my grip on her cheek, desperate to convey the sincerity of my plea. "Wanda, you don't have to face this alone. You're not just a version of her; you're your own person, with your own pain. But here, in this universe, you have a chance to rebuild, to find a new kind of family."

She opens her eyes, the sea-green gaze locking onto mine. There's a vulnerability in her expression, a crack in the stoic facade she wears. "I'm so tired," she admits, a raw honesty in her voice. "Tired of loss, tired of fighting. Maybe... maybe it's time for a different path."

A tentative smile plays on her lips, and my heart skips a beat. I wipe away another tear, this time a tear of relief. "You don't have to decide now," I say softly. "Take the time you need. But know that here, you have people who care, people who understand loss and are willing to help you carry the burden."

The room seems to brighten, as if the weight of the universe has lifted, if only for a moment. And in that moment, I see a glimmer of hope, a possibility for healing and connection that transcends the boundaries of our fractured worlds.

"I need to know one thing." She speaks, "Is Vision alive?" my brows furrow together.

"Vision? Who is that?" I ask genuinely confused.

"Wait...how did we meet here?" She asks.

"Oh well we met in Sokovia. We were protesting Stark together at a rally. Your brother flirted with me first and I never let him live that down especially when I married you and he was my best man." I smile at the memory. "Anyways, we were approached by Hydra and experimented on. They had the mind stone and the power stone. You and Pietro were exposed to the mind stone and I was too, but nothing happened unlike you two so they put me in a room with the power stone. It decided my chest was it's forever home. I ended up breaking us out from the Hydra base with the help of the Avengers who had caught word of the base. The three of us joined the Avengers and the rest is history." I tell her.

"So no Ultron? Sokovia didn't fly in the air? What about the Sokovia accords?" She throws question after question.

"No idea what you're talking about love. We carried on doing small missions, taking down hydra and radicals, but the three of us spent a long time training before they let us out doing field work." I tell her.

"Three? Is...is Pietro..?" Her voice breaks.

"Alive? Yeah of course." She falls to her knees and starts sobbing.

"Mommy?" Billy is at the middle of the stairs and the look in Wanda's eyes.

"Yeah baby it's Mommy." Wanda opened her arms and the little speedster found his way into her arms." Her eyes spilling over tears.

"Mama said you weren't coming back." Billy whispered.

"Mama didn't think I was, but Mommy always finds a way back to her boys." Wanda pulls back and looks up at me. "I'm staying...how could I say no when this is just about the most perfect version I could ask for?" I smile and start crying again as Tommy joins us before I can even blink. "Our little quick silver." Wanda smiles hugging the boys, her boys.

Tears of relief blur my vision as I watch Wanda embrace our boys, her boys, with a tenderness that speaks volumes. Billy and Tommy cling to her, their small arms wrapping around her tightly as if afraid she'll disappear again if they let go. And in that moment, I realize that this is where she belongs, with us, her family.

I join them on the floor, wrapping my arms around them all, unable to contain the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatens to consume me. "Welcome home, Wanda," I whisper, my voice choked with tears.

She looks up at me, her eyes shining with gratitude and love. "Thank you," she says softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Together, we sit in the warmth of our embrace, a makeshift family forged from the ashes of our shared past. And as the night stretches on, I can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a belief that no matter what trials may come, as long as we have each other, we can weather any storm.

========================

The days blurred together in a haze of longing and uncertainty, each moment tinged with the ache of what could have been. Wanda's presence in our home was both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the impossibility of reclaiming what was once mine.

I watched her interact with the boys, her smile forced but genuine, her laughter a melody that echoed through the halls. And yet, beneath the surface, I could sense the weight of her own grief, the burden of a past that refused to let her go.

I tried to be strong, to be there for her and the boys, but every smile felt like a lie, every laugh a hollow echo of the joy we once shared. And in the darkness of the night, when sleep eluded me and the silence pressed in like a vice, I found myself haunted by memories of another Wanda, a version of her that existed only in my dreams.

She was so close, yet so far away, a phantom presence that taunted me with what could have been. I longed to reach out to her, to hold her close and whisper words of love and comfort. But she was gone, lost to me in a reality that no longer existed.

And so I forced myself out of bed each morning, steeling myself against the pain that threatened to consume me. I buried myself in the routines of daily life, seeking solace in the mundane tasks that kept me tethered to reality.

But no matter how hard I tried to push her memory away, she lingered in the shadows of my mind, a ghostly specter that refused to be forgotten. And as the days turned into weeks, I began to wonder if I would ever find peace, if I would ever be able to let go of the love that still bound me to her, even across the vast expanse of the multiverse.

My Wanda and I had always had a policy of no mind reading since we could both do it, but this Wanda pokes at my thoughts constantly. Reminds me to smile through telepathy. One morning after a really good dream with another Wanda I can't get myself out of bed. Everything is too much. I know I had told her I'd be fine, but I'm not.

"Come on Y/N. Time to get up." I turn away from her, curling up into a ball further. "Y/N? What's wrong?" She asks.

"Nothing just tired. Just tell the boys I don't feel good. I need a Mama's day. So they can have a Mommy day. Take them out, get them ice cream. Do whatever you want." I grumble.

"Okay..." I close my eyes, letting myself drift back off just needed to see her again.

I don't know how much time has past when I'm being woken up, "Detka...come on wake up." My eyes blink into focus as I look at Wanda sitting above me and smile, forgetting my reality for a moment before my smile drops.

"What?" I ask.

"I dropped the boys off with their uncle for the weekend." I sit up straight,

"You did what!?" I screech.

"I left them with Pietro for the weekend. He was more than happy to have a boys weekend. Something about taking them to the lake?" Wanda mentions.

"He takes them every summer, usually it's a family thing and we all go." I tell Wanda.

"Well I figured you needed a Mommy and me weekend. I want to take you out. I want to get to know you. I already know my boys, but you. You're different, new, you aren't like Vision. You're human." She cups my cheek, smiling and I know it's a genuine smile. "I'm sure you've been feeling neglected and I wanted to try and do this sooner, but the boys were too excited to have me back." She says as I lean into her touch, Gods how I missed her touch. Though her fingers were no longer black her nails seemed to permanently stay black which made me laugh as I compared it to her emo phase which apparently this Wanda had one too.

"Thank you," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. "For understanding."

She smiles, a warmth in her eyes that belies the weight of her own pain. "We're in this together. You don't have to carry the burden alone."

With her words echoing in my mind, I find the strength to push myself out of bed, to face the day with renewed determination. Wanda's offer of a Mommy and me weekend is a lifeline, a chance to rediscover myself amidst the chaos of grief and longing.

As we spend the day together, exploring the city and sharing stories of our pasts, I feel a sense of peace settle over me, a reassurance that maybe, just maybe, there's still hope for a future filled with love and laughter.

And as the sun sets on our day together, I realize that while Wanda may not be my Wanda, she's still a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that even in our darkest moments, there's always someone willing to stand by our side, to offer a hand to hold and a shoulder to lean on.

With her by my side, I know that no matter what the future may hold, I'll never have to face it alone. And as we head home, the weight of grief feels a little lighter, the shadows a little less daunting, as we embrace the possibility of a new beginning, together.

When we got back home, I pulled her to the couch, "Time to watch sitcoms." I tell her and her face lights up.

"Dick Van Dyke?" She asks.

"No Detka. I want to show you my favorite this time. It's a more modern one. It's an animated sitcom though is that okay?" I ask, realizing this Wanda maybe never experienced animated and only enjoyed live action ones.

"Of course dorogoya." Her accent popping out sent a wave through me that landed between my legs.

"O-okay good." I say and get 'Bob's Burgers' playing. As the show starts I settle in with a slight distance between us, but she pulls me in against her side.

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She asks looking down at me.

"Y-yeah...of course." I move slight, readjusting to get comfortable as we fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and I let out a sigh of relief, that feels like so much weight is taken off my shoulders.

As the episodes of "Bob's Burgers" played on, I found myself relaxing into Wanda's embrace, the tension that had been coiled tight within me slowly unraveling with each passing moment. Her warmth seeped into my bones, a comforting presence that chased away the lingering shadows of doubt and fear.

With her by my side, the laughter that bubbled up from the screen felt genuine, a reflection of the newfound camaraderie we shared. And as I stole glances at her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the television, I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, the simplicity of just being together.

Her laughter mingled with mine, the sound music to my ears, a symphony of joy that filled the room with warmth and light. And as the credits rolled on the final episode, I turned to her, a smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Thank you," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "For today. For everything."

She returned my smile, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Anytime. I'm here for you, always."

I sat there staring at her, getting lost in her eyes so much that I don't even realize that she's leaning in until she's inches from my lips, she stops and I can feel her breath on me, my own hitching,

"Is this okay dorogoya?" She whispers in a husk against my lips.

"Y-yes." I manage out as she kisses me softly at first, testing the waters, but soon enough she's kissing hungrily, like she's starving for my taste now that's she's had a nibble. My fingers find their way into her hair, getting tangled in her auburn locks. One of her hands is on the back of my neck and the other is on my hip, gripping tightly, I can feel her nails digging in.

The world falls away as our lips meet in a fiery embrace, a collision of passion and longing that ignites every nerve ending in my body. Her kiss is intoxicating, a whirlwind of desire and need that sweeps me away in a tide of sensation.

I lose myself in the taste of her, the feel of her lips moving against mine with a hunger that mirrors my own. Our breath mingles in the space between us, hot and heavy with unspoken desire, as the intensity of our embrace grows with each passing moment.

Her hands are everywhere at once, trailing fire along my skin as she pulls me closer, her touch igniting a wildfire of sensation within me. I cling to her desperately, losing myself in the dizzying whirl of pleasure that consumes us both.

Time loses all meaning as we surrender to the passion that binds us together, lost in a world of our own making where nothing else matters but the fiery connection that burns between us.

And as we finally break apart, breathless and trembling, I find myself drowning in the depths of her gaze, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air between us.

In that moment, I know that this is just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, passion, and endless possibility. And as we cling to each other in the aftermath of our shared passion, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected twist of fate that brought us together.

User

"Bed. Now." Her eyes lit up red for a moment. My Wanda had never been dominate, but this Wanda before me exuded dominance. I didn't waste any time getting up the stairs with her hot on my tail as we crashed into the bedroom, stumbling to the bed in a heat of kisses as she took the leading role.

The air crackled with electricity as we stumbled into the bedroom, our lips locked in a frenzy of passion and desire. Wanda's presence was intoxicating, her aura radiating power and dominance in a way I had never experienced before. And as she took the lead, pushing me onto the bed with a hunger that sent shivers down my spine, I felt myself surrendering to the raw intensity of the moment.

Her kisses were demanding, igniting a fire within me that burned hotter with each passing second. I moaned against her lips, my fingers tangling in her hair as I lost myself in the heat of the moment. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she explored every inch of my skin with a hunger that left me breathless.

With each caress, each whispered word of desire, I felt myself falling deeper under her spell, my body responding eagerly to her every touch. And as she claimed me as her own, I surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the ecstasy of our shared passion.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of pleasure and desire where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating connection that bound us together. And as we moved as one, bodies entwined in a symphony of passion, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

The sensation of relinquishing control, of surrendering completely to someone else's will, was both exhilarating and liberating. As I basked in the warmth of Wanda's dominance, I found myself embracing a side of myself that I had long suppressed, a side that craved the thrill of submission and surrender.

With each touch, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss of pleasure, my mind consumed by a haze of ecstasy that left me breathless and yearning for more. And as Wanda took the lead, guiding me with a firm yet gentle hand, I found myself surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation, losing myself in the intoxicating dance of pleasure and desire.

In her arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly alive, my body responding eagerly to her every touch and caress. And as we moved together in a symphony of passion and desire, I embraced the freedom that came with letting go, allowing myself to be swept away by the currents of our shared passion.

For in that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful surrender where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as we surrendered to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with exploration, discovery, and boundless pleasure.

"Ah...Wands..." A smack hit my thigh making me jolt and yelp.

"That's not my name Detka." I feel my stomach flip. I call her this all the time. I have for years now, but never in this setting. Another smack and then her teeth find my skin, biting and sucking harshly, marking me.

"Mommy!" I can feel the smirk against my thigh.

"Good girl. Go on. Show me how needy you are baby girl." Her fingers find themselves between my folds as I move my hips against them.

The sensation of her touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. I arched my back, pressing against her fingers as they explored the depths of my desire, teasing and tantalizing with a skill that left me trembling with need.

"Please," I whimpered, the word spilling from my lips in a desperate plea for more. Her touch was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body as she pushed me to the brink of ecstasy.

With each caress, each stroke, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our shared passion. And as she whispered words of encouragement, urging me to let go and surrender to the pleasure that awaited, I felt myself surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our connection. And as I succumbed to the ecstasy of our shared desire, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

The sensation of Wanda's magic enveloping my wrists sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through me, a tangible reminder of her power and dominance. I tested the restraints, feeling the firm hold of her magic as it kept me securely in place, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and arousal.

"Safe word. Green, yellow, red. Green is keep going, yellow slow down, red is stop." Wanda husked.

"Green, yellow, red," I echoed, committing the safe words to memory as a reassurance of our mutual trust and consent. With each breath, each whispered command, I felt myself sinking deeper into the heady haze of pleasure, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation.

As Wanda continued to explore my body with a skillful touch that left me trembling with need, I surrendered myself to the ecstasy of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

And as the intensity of our passion grew with each passing moment, I found myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our connection. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

I don't think there is a place she hasn't marked on me in some way and after hours of edging until I couldn't form sentences she finally let me release. A string of moans ripping through me as the most intense waves roll over me as I drown in them, covered in sweat and her marks.

As the waves of pleasure washed over me, leaving me trembling and spent, I basked in the afterglow of our shared passion, my body still tingling with the echoes of our ecstasy. But just when I thought the intensity had peaked, I felt something pressing against my entrance, a sensation that sent a jolt of anticipation coursing through me.

I gasped, my body instinctively tensing as Wanda's touch ignited a new wave of desire within me. Her fingers teased and tantalized, exploring the depths of my desire with a skill that left me breathless and eager for more.

With each gentle thrust, I felt myself opening up to her, surrendering completely to the overwhelming tide of sensation. The pleasure was exquisite, a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through every fiber of my being as I lost myself in the blissful abandon of our shared desire.

And as Wanda continued to guide me with a firm yet gentle hand, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our connection, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive. In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire.

Wanda soon enough needed more and so did I, "Faster...ha-ah...harder..." My breath hot against her, panting like a dog and that gave her the perfect opportunity to place her fingers in my mouth, gaging me with them, but I loved every second as I sucked on them, moaning against them as I tasted myself on them from earlier.

The sensation of Wanda's fingers in my mouth sent a thrill of arousal coursing through me, a heady mixture of pleasure and desire that left me panting and eager for more. With each thrust, each gasp of pleasure, I eagerly sucked on her fingers, tasting myself on them from earlier.

The taste was intoxicating, a symphony of desire that heightened the intensity of our connection as we moved together in perfect harmony. And as Wanda responded to my pleas with a fervor that mirrored my own, I surrendered myself to the pleasure of our shared desire, knowing that in her arms, I was safe, cherished, and utterly alive.

With each thrust, I felt myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of our passion. And as we reached the peak of ecstasy together, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey, a journey filled with passion, intensity, and boundless pleasure.

In that moment, there was only her, only us, lost in a world of blissful abandon where nothing else mattered but the exquisite pleasure of our shared desire. And as we surrendered ourselves to the ecstasy of our connection, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together, a journey filled with love, lust, and endless possibility.

As I slowly regained my senses, the cool towel on the back of my neck and Wanda's comforting presence helped anchor me in reality. Her magic gently caressed my mind, offering reassurance and care as I took in the aftermath of our intense encounter.

"Easy, Detka. You're okay," she murmured, and I found solace in the warmth of her embrace. I took the offered water bottle, sipping slowly as she continued to tend to my well-being. The realization that I had passed out from pleasure left me both surprised and amused.

"Never happened before," I admitted with a chuckle. "The other Wanda was more of a sub, so I was usually the one in control. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but being on the receiving end is a whole different experience."

Wanda's magic fetched a baggy shirt, and as I recognized it, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It was a shirt from a concert we attended when we were sixteen, a tangible link to our shared past.

"It's good to know not everything is different," I remarked, smiling as she kissed my temple.

In the warmth of our makeshift cocoon, surrounded by blankets and pillows, Wanda's magic weaving a protective barrier around us, we continued to watch 'Bob's Burgers.' However, my focus was no longer on the show; instead, I found myself captivated by the woman holding me close.

A sudden wave of fear and doubt crashed over me as I wondered if this intimate encounter was just a one-time gesture to alleviate my grief. The fear of being tossed aside after a momentary respite haunted my thoughts, threatening to overshadow the joy we had just shared.

Wanda, sensing my internal struggle, gently addressed my concerns. "Hey, woah, Detka. Those thoughts of yours are the farthest thing from the truth. Do not listen to them. I would never do that to my soulmate," she reassured me, her forehead finding mine in a tender gesture of connection.

"I love you, Y/N," she confessed, her words washing away my fears and opening the floodgates to a cascade of happy tears. "I love you, Wands! I didn't think I'd ever get to hear you say those words to me again," I admitted, clinging to her shirt as I sobbed into her.

Wanda's promises echoed in my heart, a vow to cherish and reaffirm our love every day. She kissed away my tears, each tender touch a testament to the depth of her commitment. "I promise I'm going to say it every chance I get. I'm never going to stop. I'm going to remind you every day how beautiful you are and how much I love you, and I promise I'm never going to leave. No missions. Nothing like that. I'll always be by your side," she declared, her own tears mingling with mine.

In that moment, as we drowned in each other's love, I knew that this second chance at happiness was a gift we would both cherish. And as Wanda whispered, "I love you," over and over, I felt the weight of my grief lifting, replaced by the warmth of a love that transcended time and space.

========

In the midst of my peaceful dream, I found myself enveloped in a sense of tranquility unlike any I had experienced in well over a year. Waking up with a smile on my face I turn my head, looking over I gazed upon the sleeping form of Wanda, her features softened by the gentle embrace of slumber, I felt a rush of overwhelming love and affection welling up within me.

With a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I leaned in closer, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of her neck. Each tender touch elicited a soft moan from her lips, a melody of pleasure that echoed through the stillness of the night.

Lost in the intoxicating embrace of our shared intimacy, I continued to shower her with affection, reveling in the warmth of her presence and the depth of our connection. And as I whispered her name, a soft murmur of adoration, I knew that this moment, this fleeting glimpse of happiness, was a treasure to be cherished for all eternity.

As Wanda began to stir awake, her voice still heavy with sleep, I couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her. Her words, though tinged with a hint of warning, only served to deepen the bond between us.

"You're playing a dangerous game, kotenok," she murmured, her voice laced with sleepiness.

"Shchenok," I corrected gently, a small smile playing on my lips.

Her eyes snapped open at the correction, surprise evident in her expression. "When did you learn that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

I shrugged, the memories of our shared past flooding back to me. "I was with her for like 20 years of our lives. I learned most Russian. Also Natasha, she..." My voice trailed off as Wanda's expression shifted, a wave of sadness washing over her.

"Oh my god, I forgot about Natasha. Is... is she alive here?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

I nodded solemnly, feeling a pang of empathy for the pain she must be feeling. Crawling into her lap, I wrapped my arms around her, offering what comfort I could. "You really lost a lot there, dorogoya," I whispered, my voice soft with compassion. "But don't worry, everyone here is safe. We've apparently had it relatively easy here, it seems."

I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude for this woman who had endured so much. "Now you have your loved ones back. You aren't alone anymore, and you won't ever be again. I promise."

==============

As the weekend unfolded, Wanda and I remained entwined in each other's arms, our connection deepening with each passing moment. When the boys returned home with their uncle Pietro, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and affection, a tangible sense of family that enveloped us all.

Pietro's hug was tight, filled with an unspoken understanding that transcended words. In his whispered question, "Did you guys finally connect?" I detected a mixture of curiosity and genuine concern.

With a small nod and a soft "Mmhmm," I confirmed what he already knew. This Wanda wasn't his real sister, just as she wasn't the Wanda I had known and loved for decades. But she was here, she was special, and in her embrace, I found a sense of solace and belonging that I had thought lost forever.

==============

As the following Friday arrived, Wanda and I made the decision to gather our friends and family together to share the details of our new lives. It was a momentous occasion, filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension as we prepared to unveil the truth about our extraordinary circumstances.

Gathering our loved ones in a familiar setting, we began to recount the events that had led us to this moment, explaining the complexities of our intertwined destinies and the newfound connections we had forged. With each word, we sought to convey the depth of our emotions, the challenges we had overcome, and the hope that now burned bright within our hearts.

As our gathering unfolded, the emotions in the room were palpable, each hug and embrace a testament to the depth of our shared experiences and the bonds that bound us together.

Wanda's first instinct was to embrace Natasha tightly, their bodies trembling with sobs as they clung to each other. For both of them, it was a moment of overwhelming relief and joy, the realization that they had been given a second chance to be reunited with someone they had feared lost forever.

Next was Clint, the stalwart friend and ally who had saved Wanda countless times in her timeline, offering comfort and support when she needed it most. As they embraced, the weight of their shared history hung heavy in the air, a reminder of the trials they had faced and the strength they had found in each other's presence.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family who had become like kin, Wanda and I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the bonds that had been forged through adversity. And as we shared stories and memories, laughter mingling with tears, we knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, drawing strength from the love and support that surrounded us.

As our friends and family listened intently, their expressions shifting from surprise to understanding, we felt a sense of relief wash over us. To have our loved ones by our side, supporting us through this journey, was a gift beyond measure.

And as we concluded our explanation, surrounded by the warmth and love of those closest to us, we knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, united in our shared bond and unwavering commitment to one another.

As the night wore on and the festivities continued, Stephen pulled me aside, his expression grave with concern. "You know what she's done in her universe, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I bristled at his question, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within me. "Do not start this, Strange," I warned, jabbing a finger in his direction. "If I had gone through what she had, this universe wouldn't even exist. What she did, in my eyes, is child's play compared to the horrors she endured."

My words carried a weight of conviction, a steadfast belief in Wanda's resilience and the sacrifices she had made to protect those she loved. And as I met Stephen's gaze, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Wanda's strength and the magnitude of her courage.

"She threw a tantrum essentially. Took over a town for a bit and then went on a killing spree to get here. I saw it through her eyes. I know if it had been me, you'd be lucky if America had still been standing," I asserted, a hint of steel in my voice as I tapped the power stone embedded in my chest.

The reminder of the immense power at my disposal served as both a warning and a declaration. Wanda's actions in her universe were a testament to the depths of her grief and the consequences of unchecked power. In contrast, I recognized the responsibility that came with wielding such force, a responsibility I vowed to use wisely to protect those I loved.

As the weight of our conversation lingered, Stephen nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between us. The night continued, but the specter of the past and the potential for the future hung in the air, a reminder that even in moments of celebration, the shadows of our pasts were never truly far behind.

"I don't think you understand, my strength isn't superhuman, it's otherworldly. The precision it requires to ensure I don't break everything around me at any given moment is a delicate balance. With one punch, I wouldn't just put a crater in the earth, I'd break it in half," I emphasized, underscoring the magnitude of the power I possessed.

The distinction between superhuman strength and the cosmic force I wielded was crucial to grasp. While others might possess extraordinary abilities, mine was on a different scale altogether, capable of reshaping the very fabric of reality itself. It was a responsibility that weighed heavily on me, requiring a level of control and restraint beyond what most could comprehend.

As I spoke, I could sense the gravity of my words sinking in, the realization dawning on Stephen of the immense power at my command. It was a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between strength and responsibility, a balance that I vowed to uphold no matter the cost.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just wanted to remind you-" Stephen began, but I swiftly cut him off, my tone firm yet understanding. "Don't, Stephen. I know you're just trying to help. I don't need the reminder though," I assured him, acknowledging his concern while asserting my own understanding of the situation.

With a nod of acceptance, Stephen backed off, respecting my boundaries and allowing me to return to the comforting embrace of Wanda, who had been engaged in conversation with Natasha and Clint. As I settled back into her arms, the warmth of her presence enveloped me, a reassuring reminder of the love and support that surrounded me.

In that moment, surrounded by friends and family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a quiet reassurance that no matter the challenges we faced, we would face them together, united in our shared bonds and unwavering commitment to one another.

As Wanda continued her conversation with Natasha and Clint, her fingers traced delicate patterns on my hip, their touch a gentle caress that spoke volumes of the journey she had undertaken. Once stained with blood, those same hands now exuded a tenderness and compassion that belied the darkness of the past.

Feeling the soothing rhythm of her touch, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation Wanda had undergone, the evolution from a place of pain and turmoil to one of healing and redemption. It was a testament to her resilience and strength, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, it was possible to find light amidst the shadows.

In that moment, as her touch danced across my skin, I felt a profound sense of gratitude for the woman before me, for the love and forgiveness she had extended, and for the hope that now blossomed within our hearts. And as our conversation continued, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by the unbreakable bond of love and understanding that had brought us to this moment.

As the room suddenly filled with the energetic presence of our children, along with Clint's youngest and Kate close behind, my boys bounded into mine and Wanda's arms with cries for help. "Moms! Save us from the monster!" they pleaded, their laughter filling the air.

I chuckled as I gathered them close, feeling their warmth and energy envelop me in a comforting embrace. Glancing over, I caught sight of Kate playfully tickling Nathaniel, the mischievous grin on her face confirming my suspicions.

With a smile, I joined Wanda in rescuing our boys from the clutches of the imaginary monster, enveloping them in hugs and laughter as we reveled in the joy of family and friendship. In that moment, surrounded by the ones we loved most, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the blessings that filled our lives, each smile and laugh a reminder of the happiness that awaited us in the days to come.

As the boys began to drift off to sleep in my arms, I couldn't help but smile at the sight. "I think it's time to go, my love," I murmured to Wanda, gesturing towards our sleeping sons. Despite their ten years, I scooped them up effortlessly, their weight feeling light in my arms.

A momentary look of surprise flickered across Wanda's face, her gaze lingering on me as she seemed to momentarily forget about my strength. At just 4'11, I was indeed petite for someone with such power, a fact that often caught others off guard.

With a soft chuckle, I gently adjusted the boys in my arms, their peaceful expressions a testament to the love and security they felt in our embrace. As we prepared to leave, I felt a surge of gratitude for the family we had become, bound together by love and the unbreakable bond of kinship. With Wanda by my side, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our shared love and determination to protect those we held dear.

As I glanced over at Wanda, watching the tender expression on her face as she looked upon our sleeping sons, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. The depth of emotion reflected in her eyes filled me with a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that our family was complete and our bond unbreakable.

In that moment, as we stood together, surrounded by the quiet stillness of the night, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me. The love that radiated between us and enveloped our children was a testament to the strength of our connection, a bond forged in the fires of adversity and tempered by the trials we had faced together.

As we prepared to depart, I reached out to take Wanda's hand, intertwining our fingers in a silent gesture of unity and love. With a shared smile, we turned and made our way home, our hearts full and our spirits lifted by the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, as a family.

===========

Wanda and I are on the couch when she asks, "Do you have photo albums of the boys?" I look at her, peeling my eyes from the TV as I pause it.

"Of course." I get up grabbing several albums of almost everything of their lives. "After we left the Avengers I took solace in capturing moments so we have a lot." I tell her as she starts through her pregnancy photos one of every month. Then the hospital photos of her giving birth. The look of pure happiness and bliss on both our faces as we held the boys. Both of us having skin to skin contact with them. As Wanda goes through the albums she starts crying.

"I missed out on so much because of my magic..." she whispered solemnly. "They went from babies, to 5, to 10 all because of words I said...Y/N...I missed everything." Knowing that Wanda had used her magic to create our boys in her universe and not anything like how we had here made her incredibly sad. I hate seeing her like this.

"How about I show you. Their first words, their first steps, everything." With a gentle touch, I leaned in closer to her, resting my forehead against hers as I offered her a silent gesture of comfort and solidarity. Feeling her fingers against my temples, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flow, every precious moment from the joyous announcement of her pregnancy to the bittersweet final days we shared together playing out before her.

As the memories unfolded like a vivid tapestry, I watched as Wanda's tears began to subside, replaced by a sense of wonder and awe. Through the magic of our shared recollections, she was able to witness the milestones she had missed, the laughter and love that had filled our home in her absence.

In that moment, as we shared in the memories of our past, I felt a renewed sense of hope blossom within me. Though Wanda may have missed out on so much, I was determined to make every moment from this point forward count, to cherish the time we had together and to create new memories that would fill the void left by the past.

With a gentle smile, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as we basked in the warmth of our shared love. And as the echoes of our memories faded into the night, I knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our unwavering commitment to one another and to our family.

As I looked into Wanda's eyes, feeling the weight of her sadness and longing, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to ease her pain and make up for the lost time. With a gentle touch, I cupped her cheek in my hand, my thumb brushing away the tears that lingered there.

"Everything with them feels too quick and also a lifetime," I whispered softly, my heart swelling with love and determination. "But now that you're here with us, you'll get to experience it all with me. Together."

In that moment, as we shared in our shared resolve to embrace the present and forge ahead as a family, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. No matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, united in our love and commitment to one another.

With a tender smile, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Wanda's forehead, silently promising to cherish every moment we shared and to make up for the lost time in any way I could. Together, we would build a future filled with love, laughter, and endless memories, united in our bond as a family.

Once we put the albums away, shut the TV off for the night we headed upstairs. Stopping to look in at the boys sleeping peacefully before heading to our own room, getting ourselves ready for bed. As I climb in, stretching out, Wanda climbs on top of me. I bite my bottom lip, looking up at her. I can see the look she has. I wrap my arms around her neck, gently trying to pull her down. She doesn't budge.

"Did you want something, shchenok?" Between the look in her eyes, the sound of her voice, and her in just a tank top of sleep shorts I'm weak to her completely under her not just physically.

"Want you. Need you." I tell her trying again to pull and when she still doesn't budge. I pout and whine. "Wands...please.."

As Wanda's hands worked their magic, binding mine above my head with a delicate yet firm touch, I felt a rush of excitement and anticipation coursing through me. With each tug of her magic, I was rendered powerless, completely at her mercy as she explored my body with a hunger that ignited a fire within me.

"Behave and we'll see where it goes," she husked, her words sending shivers down my spine as she pushed up my shirt, her lips finding purchase on my chest with an intensity that left me breathless. The sensation of her teeth grazing my skin, her tongue tracing patterns across my flesh, sent waves of pleasure radiating through me, making me squirm and writhe beneath her touch.

As I felt myself slipping deeper into subspace, surrendering to the heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability, I couldn't help but lose myself in the moment, giving in completely to the sensations that engulfed me. With each kiss, each caress, I felt myself unraveling, consumed by the overwhelming desire that burned between us.

In that moment, as I surrendered myself to Wanda's tender ministrations, I felt a profound sense of connection and intimacy that transcended the physical realm. With her by my side, I knew that I was safe, cherished, and loved beyond measure, and as I surrendered to the ecstasy of the moment, I knew that our bond would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Wanda plays with me and teases me for hours and I can't even remember how many times she's pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. As she brought me to another one as she slammed into me with a magic strap-on she'd conjured up, my mind already drowning in subspace, barely able to form words, but one slips out and then a few more,

"Mommy...gonna...ah-ha...ah..." After my words she sped up leaning down to whisper in my ear,

"That's right cum for Mommy like a good girl. Mommy's gonna cum with you. Gonna fill you up and breed you baby girl." As she whispered those final words in my ear, her voice a husky growl of lust and desire, I felt myself shattering into a million pieces, my entire being consumed by the ecstasy of release. With a cry of pure ecstasy, I let myself fall over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my climax as I surrendered myself entirely to the pleasure that engulfed me. Feeling her fill me up completely made my eyes roll back and the only word I could comprehend was, “Mommy.”

In that moment, as I basked in the afterglow of our shared ecstasy, I knew that I was exactly where I belonged, wrapped in the arms of the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #the scarlet witch x fem!reader #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch

[beekeeperspicnic]

Visiting Fulworth

Today @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes and I went on something that I might have been classified as a "research trip" for The Beekeepers Picnic, if it had happened a few years ago! As it is, there's no hiding that it was just a geeky fan trip.

I didn't invent the idea of Holmes retiring to keep bees in a village called Fulworth - it gets alluded to a few times in the stories, and there is one story set there, 'The Lion's Mane'.

We know Holmes' retirement home is either a 'cottage' or a 'villa', it's a few miles out of Eastbourne, and it's clearly somewhere where it's possible to walk to the sea for a swim. Sherlockian tradition is that the real-life place fitting this description is the village of East Dean.

So, that's where we went - walking from Eastbourne.

This area is famous for it's white chalk cliffs, which are eroding away very quickly. Here is a path to nowhere!

These cliffs are known as the Seven Sisters. They all have names but the only two I remember are Short Bottom and Rough Bottom.

The beach there is all pebbles - I knew that when creating my game, but I felt like a pebble beach just wouldn't look right all in pixels, so I made it sandy instead.

East Dean is absolutely gorgeous, basically everything I could have hoped for.

Here is the village green - flying a Ukrainian flag in solidarity!

And here is Mr Holmes' official cottage. As far as we could tell its now an office of the local estate rather than someone's house, so we didn't feel too weird taking lots of pictures! The Lions Mane implies his cottage is a little way out of the village, but I'll forgive them for putting it in the centre instead.

(I think that the dates are obviously the dates he lived there as recorded by his biographer - our last information on Holmes is from 1917. I think they made the right call not to try to invent a date for his death.)

A lot of the cottages in the area have this really distinctive mixture of pebbles and brick which I think must be a hallmark of the local area, but I was pleased to see a few whitewashed buildings like the ones I put in the game:

Thank you for reading, please enjoy this adorable foal.

#the beekeeper's picnic #sherlock holmes #sussex retirement #sussex cottage

[hwangism143]

off - limits (preview)

synopsis: hwang hyunjin was multiple things to you: incredible. god-like. everything. but most of all, he was off-limits. that is, until, you both are forced to share a room at a beach getaway. sounds perfectly romantic, right? except for your fear of the ocean and his recent break-up.

pairing: non-idol!hyunjin x fem!reader

genre: best friends brother trope, one room trope, angst, fluff

warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of death, nightmares, graphic description of nearly drowning (more warnings will be added to the main fic)

word count (preview): 968 words

release date: 03/05/24

a/n: finally! my first over 10k word fic lol. this was requested to me by @scarlet789 and i immediately started working on it. you can send in an ask or reply below if you wish to be added to the taglist for this fic, coming out nest friday!

preview down below

"Hmm," Hyunjin hummed in contemplation to something you had said, "You know, I always liked your company more then Hyun-jee's. Don't tell her though." He had mischievous look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, eliciting a laugh from within you and bringing back a memory you had forgotten.

You were still slightly awed by the fact that the Hwang Hyun-jee invited you to spend summer with her. At a ski lodge. A fricking ski lodge! The shocking revelation that you could be considered cool enough to hang out with her and her brother were the thoughts in your head as you stared at the copy of Emma in your hands, pretending to read the text.

Beside you, you could hear the steady scratching of pencil against paper, interrupted only by the symphony of an eraser rubbing against the sheet. This little orchestra playing next to you was evidence of Hyunjin's existence, an art in itself if anyone asked you.

"You should teach me French," he asks you out of the blue, "For when if leave to go to Paris."

You look at him inquisitively. He told you that he got accepted into art school in Paris a few days ago. You did feel sad about the fact that he was going, but deep down you knew very well that practically, after this summer your interactions with Hyunjin would be few and far in between.

"You have Hyun-jee, she can teach you. If, that is, you can put up with her," you retort teasingly.

Hyunjin gives you a sly smirk, "That's exactly why I was asking you. I think I'll like your style of teaching better. And so, I want you to please, please, please teach me French."

You had no idea where this sudden newfound confidence to flirt with Hyunjin had bloomed within you but, oh well, you only live once. "Do you want me teaching you, or just me in general?"

"Ah," he said shaking his head regretfully with a smile, "Even though you have only known me for a few weeks, you already know me too well."

Butterflies ignite in your stomach, although you're pretty sure he was just playing along with you. You wonder what he's sketching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes set in concentration. Even though you have a feeling it isn't, you sincerely hope it's you.

You don't know that your hopeful assumption was true.

A tightening in you chest starts to grow when the topic shifts to love. Earlier, talking to Hyunjin about love used to come as easy walking on your two feet. Now, it just hurts. He asked you if you were seeing someone. You promptly replied in the negative. You asked him if he was seeing someone. He reflected your answer back onto you.

But what did it really mean? You were always going to be bound in this life by that unspoken oath you made to Hyun-jee all those years ago. It wasn't even about love anymore, it was about not breaking another person's trust, a person who you held closer to your heart than most of your family.

You started thinking though. What was the point of hiding your feelings, old or not, from Hyunjin any longer? It wasn't like you could act on it, but you may as well have told him. Maybe then a huge weight from your chest would be released and you wouldn't be shackled by commitments, things you felt you owed to both of them.

"I don't think you know this but," your expression suddenly changed, "I used to have the biggest crush on you that summer."

"Used to?" At this point, Hyunjin is sitting up straight, eyeing you curiously. You roll your eyes and give him a playful slap on his arm. His expression, however, turns into one of regret. You begin to feel remorseful about telling him, paranoia settling in and molding itself into the fabric of who you were.

"That's a shame," he says quietly.

The air changes, charged with something you can't quite place. Hyunjin hols eye contact with you, unsaid words coursing through them. You never really believed in the phrase 'the eye is the window to the soul', but right now, you were terrified of whatever the hell your eyes were revealing to him right now. Hyunjin then proceeds to utter something, something so capable of infusing you with poisoned hope, that it takes your breath away.

"I think I would have loved loving you."

Time has stopped. Feelings of desperation, annihilation and most importantly, temptation, cascade in a whirlpool inside you. It had been years. This was wrong. This was the universe dangling temptation in front of you, urging you to just take a bite. Rebelliously, you wondered, what if you were selfish for one? Why were you feeling this way now?

"I think I would have loved being loved by you," you choke out. Hyunjin's hand laces through yours and gives it a little squeeze in response.

That is when it dawns on you that Hyunjin is as confined in this matter as you, if not more. Hyun-jee is his sister for God's sake; whatever guilt you felt in wanting him, he must have felt tenfold in wanting you. You know exactly what the little squeeze he gave you signifies: It will pass. If it cannot be, it will cease.

And you know it's true because you and Hyunjin can never be 'us' or 'we' as long as you were present in this reality. You wished there was a universe somewhere, a parallel reality when Hyunjin and you were considered of one breath because to breath you would need him like oxygen.

Judging by his expression, he must have been drifting in thought about that too.

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x female reader #- via's fics <3

[seramilla]

God that must be so hard and nerve wracking for Carmilla. Finally knowing what happened to the baby she lost and feeling slightly relieved cause now here was her baby safe and here in her arms again where she belonged damnit but they were all in hell and her baby had already lost an eye and had to fight every day...

But also...how are Clara and Odette handling the news that they found their baby sister and just who she is?

Carmilla takes a few days to determine if she wants to inform Odette and Clara about what she'd gleaned following the most recent Extermination. In the first place, her girls had been working overtime extracting all the angelic steel left behind near the Hotel; it's a veritable treasure trove this time, and they'd been so excited to get started. Second, Carmilla needed time to process recent revelations herself, and figure out how to delicately broach the subject with her eldest two.

How is she supposed to tell her daughters that their sister, whose existence they'd barely even registered back on Earth, had quite literally come back from the dead? Not only that, they'd missed an entire childhood together; growing, playing, bonding, fighting, and loving one another -- all things Clara and Odette had the opportunity to do. How is Carmilla supposed to just go up to them and say, "Surprise! You remember that child I was pregnant with when we all died? Well, she's still around! She's an ex-Exterminator, killed hundreds of our people, and I don't even know if she wants anything to do with us!"

Would Odette even accept her? Clara is usually the more open-minded of the two. That's another question she can't answer. With how many times Vaggie's "sister" Exorcists have tried to kill them over the years, would her other daughters even want to have anything to do with Vaggie? She thinks they would...Clara the most likely of the two...but they are fully grown women with their own thoughts and feelings. She wouldn't blame them if they...well, they'd have every right not to want that kind of relationship with Vaggie, at any rate.

Carmilla is still stewing in these thoughts, having practically worn a path in the middle of her bedroom floor by walking back and forth so many times, when she feels a vibration in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, Vaggie's name flashes prominently on the screen, like a fresh piece of graffiti on the side of a building. She almost drops her phone in surprise, but manages to keep it together. She taps the answer icon in trepidation.

"Ye-yes?"

"Carmilla?" Vaggie's voice on the other end sounds so...tired. Carmilla recalls she's been home for a few days now, but she wouldn't have been able to tell by the sound of her voice alone. Her tone is so...ragged and laced with anxiety; a spitting image of her own, if she's honest.

"Vaggie! Umm, yes! How can I help you?"

There is a definitive pause, one that makes the distance between them seem more metaphysical than real. They are just across the city from each other, but in every other sense, Vaggie is undoubtedly existing in her own plane of reality right now. She seems so much farther away than Carmilla could possibly reach by foot. It must have taken her a lot to call Carmilla. The arms dealer puts her patience to the test, and waits intently for Vaggie to find the words to voice what she needs to say.

"Carmilla..." Vaggie finally starts, a voice much shakier and insecure than she remembers; a far cry from that determined, brave girl that challenged her at her compound all those days ago. "Can I...come over?"

Carmilla's heart jumps into her throat. Her ears start ringing, and she almost needs to sit down on her bed before she collapses.

"Yes!" she says, flinching as she sounds a little too eager for her own ears. There's no helping that now. "Of-of course! Whatever you need, mi querida. My door is always open. When do you want to come by?"

"Ummm," Vaggie hesitates, as if she fears she's asking too much. "Is right now okay? Are you...busy?"

Odette and Clara will be back soon, but that is the furthest thing from Carmilla's mind at the moment. She'll deal with it when the time comes.

"No, that's perfectly fine! Absolutely, I'll be here! I'm not going anywhere today."

Vaggie sounds a little relieved, but also like she hadn't expected her question to be answered so quickly, so freely. Carmilla hopes she doesn't sound too eager...but she is. How can she not be? This is her daughter, for goodness’ sake, her child, wanting to see her.

"O-oh-okay!" Vaggie says, a little more eager this time. "Gi-give me an hour? And I'll...I'll be there."

"Text me once you're close by," Carmilla says, trying to push away any further doubts and hesitation from her mind. Vaggie wants to come over. She needs to be strong for her. She needs to keep it the fuck together. "I'll come out and get you this time."

"Okay," Vaggie responds. "Thanks...thank you, Carmilla."

Vaggie hangs up. Carmilla stiffens. She stands up, putting her large hands over her face, wiping her forehead down to her cheeks from the stress of it all. Vaggie is coming back, coming here, right now. She tries so much not to freak the fuck out.

Now to figure out what to do about Odette and Clara.

#hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine #vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #odette hazbin hotel #clara hazbin hotel #fan theories #ask #anon #vaggie carmilla related au

[starnightlover]

Hi. Sorry, I just really feel like complaining. Obviously you can ignore this, I just have nowhere else to word vomit lol. I've been trying to shift since 2019. I've gotten into the void state for like 20 seconds but got too freaked out/excited and lost stability before I could manifest or shift anywhere. I feel like I'm going crazy. I've done the whole thing of pasting sticky notes with affirmations all over my apartment, had meditated for an hour or more a day for weeks at a time, listened to subliminals 24/7 and obvious tried all the classic methods like the raven method, julia method, etc, etc. I've had multiple lucid dreams where I tried to make portals and I've even had a lucid dream (or I guess I shifted) where I saw a "centre" for shifting with a bunch of islands and floating petals that we used as transportation between islands. I got a whole tour by some guide and he showed me other lives I'm currently living. That was like a year ago, and I haven't manifested anything significant or went anywhere since then. I'm going through a really tough time right now. I wouldn't have gone on like this if I didn't believe in it, but I'm just feeling really beaten down. I'm exhausted and frustrated.

Hi lovely, I'm so sorry you feel this way.

It’s understandable. But remember all the lucid dreams you’ve had and the void states that you’ve been in. They’re a reflection of your ability for shifting. You’ve been incredibly close before, and your subconscious mind is capable of doing so. You can take a break if you want, because shifting requires a healthy amount of persistence. Just remember that no matter how long of a break you have, you’ve come really far already. The void state is one step away from shifting. And don’t forget your lucid dream, where you basically saw your ability to change realities. Don’t take my word for granted. Just think about it. You can do it, you do have the abilities, all you have to do is keep going. You can take a small break if you want to rest, but don’t let yourself lose all your progress. Stay determined, stay motivated, don’t lose your abilities. You can do this!!

You’ve come so far, and you’ve been in the final stages. Don’t think about how it’s been years without a single shift. It’s been years where you’ve learned techniques, you’ve learned about yourself, you’ve honed in your shifting abilities. Just because you haven’t shifted in years doesn’t mean you’ve made no progress. This is just the next step in your shifting journey. Go forward. Take that step. Shift like nothing’s stopping you. You’re so close. You’ve had enough time to think about it. You’ve been here, wanting to get to your desired reality for all this time. You haven’t given up on it yet. You’ve kept coming back hoping, trying, dreaming, wanting to shift to the reality you want and finally be with your hard work! Why would you stop now? You owe it to yourself to keep trying. Don’t give up, because it has always been your dream to shift.

Your determination, drive, motivation, and dedication to shifting is so praiseworthy. It's been years since you started this journey, and you haven't given up! You've persisted for this long and you've gotten close so many times, it's almost impossible for you to not have enough abilities to shift realities. Remember all the things you've seen and experienced while trying to shift realities, all the things you've gone through and the efforts of hard work that you've put into shifting realities. Don't give up now. You just have to keep going. You can do it, I believe in you!

Keep going. Don’t stop now.

I mean, just think about it: you possess this incredible power within you to shape your own existence. You're not just a passive observer in the grand theater of life; you're the playwright, the director, and the star actor all rolled into one.

You see, the universe is like this vast, infinite canvas, and you? You're the artist putting forth the brush. Every thought, every belief, every intention you hold is like a stroke on that canvas.

Now, here's the kicker: you have the ability to shift to any reality you choose. It's not some distant, unattainable dream—it's within your awareness right here, right now. Reality-shifting isn't this Herculean task reserved for a select few; it's as easy as changing your mind.

You are the god of your reality, lovely!!! You have the power to shift!!! It's not about waiting for the stars to align or some external force to swoop in and save the day. It's about realizing that the power you seek has been within you all along. So, embrace it. Own it. Know that you are the creator of your own destiny. And when doubts creep in or challenges arise, remember this: you are god, and reality-shifting is as easy as flipping the script. You've got this. After all, you are god.

And remember! You don't actually need specific methods to shift realities; it's about tapping into your innate power as a being that is pure consiousnious not attached to any body, mind, or reality! . Every moment, you're making choices that shift you to a different reality, and reality-shifting to your DR is just as easy! It's just bevomi b aware of it. While methods and techniques can be helpful tools, they're just that—tools! The real magic happens when you tap into your own inner wisdom and intuition, trusting yourself to allow the process to unfold organically. Embrace your innate creativity and intuition, and watch as your reality begins to shift in ways you never thought possible.

Now just remember my love, to keep on visualizing, keep on affirming, and most importantly keep persisting!!!! . And, be gentle with yourself along the way. Shifting may not happen overnight, but each step you take brings you closer to your DR. So hold onto hope, and know that your breakthrough is just around the corner.

#anonymous asks #reality shifting #shifting #shift #shifting blog #shifting realities #shifting consciousness #shifting reality #shifting antis dni #anti shifters dni #shiftblr #shifting motivation #shifters

[saelique]

chapter one. ignorance is bliss

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together. 

the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality. 

the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting. 

it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked. 

“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale. 

“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“ 

three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again. 

“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up. 

“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.

years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much. 

the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil. 

you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars. 

it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever. 

you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him. 

Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty. 

time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.

you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was. 

you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure. 

you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.

you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago. 

you really did think he was perfect. 

running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure. 

but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.

Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs. 

it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight. 

you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior. 

digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.

you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.

was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?

you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.

you should really stop thinking so much about this.

clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form

making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.

“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.

“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.

“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.

“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“

“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”

a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.

“hello, surprised to see me ?”

he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.

oh god what if you were next ?

you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !

“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence. 

the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.

you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.

you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in. 

Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.

but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.

the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.

why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?

you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.

ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?

you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.

“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.

you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.

“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”

“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”

just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?

#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels ! #bsd x reader #Fyodor x reader #dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd x reader angst #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor

[jeankluv]

I love you, it’s ruining my life - Geto Suguru

Words: 1,5k

Summary: You stood besides Geto for over a decade but despite loving him so much, it was ruining you.

Tags: heavy angst, canon, set during 2017-2018, blood, mentions of death, no happy ending, a bit of Gojo x reader but not romantic, no use of y/n, gn!reader

Notes: a request and a one shot in a single day, yep 🤭

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

When he decided to leave, you left with him.

More than 10 years had passed since then, you were no longer kids, you had changed. Even though there were mornings where you looked in the mirror and still saw the 17 year old student you once were. But when you looked at him, there was nothing left of that 17 year old boy.

You still loved him and you would probably always, but that love was consuming you.

But that day, you didn't see the 17 year old girl, what you saw in the mirror was a tired young woman, with a dull face and dark circles under her eyes. You felt like all your color was completely gone.

Existing your room, you walked through the hallway until you spot Suguru’s silhouette, I was talking to Miguel, apparently there was a course that Suguru was interested in obtaining. Passing by, you walked and saw a couple of people waiting for Suguru to serve them. Your heart was squeezed when you thought about the fate they would have.

You had accompanied Suguru for all these years, but you had never been able to agree with his ideas and until that day they continued to make you nauseous.

You sighed and went outside, where you sat on one of the benches there. In the distance you could see Tokyo and the memories of when you were a teenager began to come to you. Would you be there if you had realized earlier how Suguru was? If you had tried harder? If I had supported him more? Everything was what ifs... That they would never be, you answered and you could only imagine what could have been.

“You are here.” A deep voice, spoke behind your back. “Geto is looking for you.”

You stood up and nodded slowly. Walking towards where Suguru was, you felt your heart flutter nervously. You opened the door and found him sitting on his “throne”. When you entered you could see traces of blood on the floor. You turned your head, feeling the vomit rise in your throat.

"I'm sorry." Suguru murmured from his seat. “I thought it would take you longer so you wouldn't see the blood of that dirty monkey, but you came.”

“Suguru…” You tremble. “Don't you think that's enough…?”

"What do you mean?" He rose from his throne.

“What I mean…” Your heart fluttered. “Let's go Suguru, let's go away.” You approached him. “You, the girls and me. Far from everything…”

Suguru's gaze was cold. “Do you hear yourself?” He smiled zinicly. “Do you want to run away? After all these years? Of my progress? Don’t be foolish.”

“Suguru… please…” Your eyes stung.

Suguru snorted and moved away from your touch and it was then, seeing his back, that the boy who once swore he would love you forever, died long ago.

“I know you loved me.” You looked down. “But you don’t love me anymore.” Those words were heavy on you, it felt like stones being thrown at yourself.

“That’s what you think?” Suguru asked

“I don’t think that, it’s what it is, Suguru.” You held back your tears, not wanting to cry in front of him. “The only times we are intimate it’s when you want to have sex, the rest of the time… I don’t even see you because you are to focus on killing people.”

“Monkeys, those are not people, they are monkeys.” You shook your head trying to ignore his words. “Don’t tell me you don’t agree with what we are doing.” He approached you and you took a step back.

“I don’t think I ever did Suguru.”

“Then why? Why did you follow me?” His tone was clear, he was angry.

“Because I love you!” You raised your voice. “I love you Suguru, I always did. And you needed me back then… you needed someone and I… I couldn’t leave you.”

“So you never truly believed in what I was doing…”

“That’s what matters to you?” You raised your gaze facing him. “If I agree with what you are doing?”

“Yes!” He was the one to shut this time. “You were the… the only one who stayed and I thought it was because you agreed but it was because you loved me.” A hoarse laugh came from his throat. “You thought that if you came with me and with that love of yours I was going to change?”

He looked at you and you said nothing, because yes, your foolish self really thought it was going to be able to change him, to make him go back and try to find a solution to what he did. But you were a fool and even 10 years later you were still a fool, because deep down you were still hoping you could make him understand.

“I won’t change, I will never change, I will kill all those monkeys and create a world where only sorcerers exist.” He sat down. “If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

The first tear rolled down your cheek. “I love you Suguru.” You said. “But it’s ruining my life.”

Suguru stayed silent, not saying a word, not saying anything. This wasn’t the guy you fell in love with, years ago, that boy wouldn’t stare at you and do nothing.

You stepped away and turned around to leave the room. Before exiting the room, you look at him one last time.

“I love you Suguru, I will always love you.” You whipped the tears away and left the room.

After that last look, the days passed and turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. Suguru never looked for you, you were alone. You couldn't go back to where you were once happy because that would doom you and you couldn't go back to the person you loved because she was long dead.

You looked up and saw the snow falling. The new year had begun with snow. You hugged your body and walked through the new streets of the small town you had moved to. There you could simply be you and help those like you who could see curses and didn't understand it.

“The ground is slippery over there.” A voice spoke behind you.

You stopped dead when you heard it, how many years had it been since you had heard that voice? You didn't even know it anymore.

You carefully turned to confirm that the owner of that voice was the one who was once your best friend. And indeed, a few meters away from you was Gojo Satoru. Taller than the last time he saw it that October afternoon. Unlike that time, his eyes were completely covered by a white blindfold.

“Satoru…” You murmured.

“You lost weight.” He simply said.

Ignoring his words, you went straight to the point. “Are you here to execute me?” You asked him, trying to pretend that your voice was shaky.

Satoru shook his head. “Why would I?” Before you could answer he continued. “There is no execution order for you, so there is no reason for me to execute you.”

“What?” You said stunned. "How is that possible? I spent years with him, they should…”

“You were never considered a threat like him and I asked them not to include you on the list of cursed sorcerers.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. "Thanks, I guess." You hugged yourself tighter, to stop yourself from shaking. “What are you doing here then Satoru?”

"He is dead."

Your breath caught and your heart skipped a couple of beats before it began to break. Suguru was dead… Suguru… You stifled a cry, not wanting to cry in front of Satoru.

“I’m sorry…” Satoru whispered.

“Why are you sorry for?” Your voice coming out like a whisper from your throat.

“It was me…”

And then a cold breeze hit your face.

You shook your head and looked up at the sky trying to stop the crying. “It’s what you had to do…” You heard Satoru's footsteps approaching you. “Did he say something before he died?”

“He gave me this.” Satoru took your hand and placed an object on it. “He told me he was sorry and that I love you until the last moment.” You carefully opened your hand, finding a ring.

You clenched your fist to your chest and began to sob. You felt Satoru's warm body wrap around you and try to calm those sobs that didn't stop coming out of you. After a few minutes, you managed to calm down and separated from Satoru.

“Thank you…” You said.

Satoru handed you a folded piece of paper. “My number and Shoko's are written down. Call us when you need it or if... if you want to come back there again. Yaga won’t care and if the old guys say something, I’ll take care of it.”

You looked at the paper and then at Satoru. “I'll keep that in mind Satoru… thank you.”

“Take care.” He said and turned around to walk off.

You saw his silhouette get into a car and then disappear. Opening your hand again, you looked at the ring again.

“I love you Suguru.” You murmured kissing the ring and letting once again your tears flow.

#geto suguru fanfiction #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #geto fluff #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru fluff #fanfic jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x oc #satoru gojo x reader

[hurt-care]

It's allergy season and I was looking back through my old writings and found this short allergy-centric fic I wrote several years ago in response to a request. I don't know that I ever posted it here on Tumblr, but even if I did, there's a lot more people here than back in 2019 when I wrote it.

It's OCs, modern day setting, takes place in Egypt. Thom is a grad student in Archeology doing a practicum placement in Egypt. Turns out, there's still pollen and allergens in the desert... enjoy :)

---

The jingle of a cell phone ring broke through the cloud of white noise coming from the air purifier and the AC unit. Thom rolled over and reached for the phone, almost knocking it off the bedside table as he fumbled sleepily.

He squinted at the display and toggled the slider to answer.

“Mhm? Hello?”

“I'm out front. It's ten past.”

Thom sat up with a start and blinked at the clock across the room.

“Oh fuck. I'm sorry Asha, I overslept. Give me a few and I'll be right down.”

He kicked off the sheets and tore through his closet in the small flat for a fresh pair of khakis and a thin linen shirt. He splashed some water on his face and ate a banana quickly while he refilled his water bottle and searched for his baseball cap. Thankfully, his backpack was still stocked from the previous day of work, so he slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his keys, and raced down the two flights of stairs out into the busy Luxor street.

Though it was barely seven, the sun was already blazingly hot. Asha sat, idling her motorcycle and chatting with a street vendor.

“Sorry, sorry,��� Thom said as he approached. 

“Doctor Rutledge is gonna kill us,” she said, pushing her helmet back down and handing the spare one to Thom. “Let's go.”

Thom sided onto the bike, put on the heavy face-shielded helmet, and took hold of Asha's waist. The bike roared to life and they sped off towards the dig site.

He'd first met Asha two months ago when he'd come to Egypt for his practical experience under the tutelage of renowned Egyptologist, Doctor Emila Rutledge. Asha was a daughter of Luxor, born and raised in the city and her knowledge of its winding streets and the surrounding archeological sights had proved very useful. She was a local assistant on the dig, helping with some of the more tedious sorting and packing of artifacts. And her motorbike was a much faster way to reach the desert than taking a bus and then walking.

They turned down a street leading out of the city and towards the Theban Necropolis dig site. The bike slowed as they turned down the side road and came to a halt where the road turned to sand.

They tugged off their helmets, the sweat dripping down their faces drying instantly in the arid climate. With Asha pushing the bike, they walked the last bit down the sandy path to the tents that marked the research areas. 

Thom blinked in the dry air and rubbed at his left eye, turning it a little pink. As they ducked under the canopy of the first tent, he cleared his throat and took a deep swig of his water bottle. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, capping the bottle and putting it back in his pack. “It's my fault. I didn't set a proper alarm.”

Doctor Rutledge looked up from her table of equipment and glared at him.

“There's limited time out here during the storm season,” she warned him. “Don't waste it being late.”

March and April in the desert meant sandstorms and sometimes they struck unexpectedly, plunging the camp into a fog of dust and undoing weeks of excavation work. Thankfully, none had hit the site thus far in the season.

Thom set down his things and turned to his work, Asha at his side, cataloguing a tray of rocks that had eroded off a nearby statue. 

“You alright?” she asked, looking at him critically. “Your eyes are kinda pink.”

He blinked and rubbed at his left one again. They did feel a bit gritty.

“Still half asleep,” he said. “Didn't have time for coffee.”

She laughed.

“You'll have to suffer until break then.”

Thom nodded and made a mark in his notebook about one of the artifacts. He rubbed the back of his hand to his nose distractedly, pawing away an itch.

In the distance, the air was growing murky and dim as a far-off storm kicked up sand into the air, turning the sky an unworldly red. 

His throat felt drier than usual out in the heat of the open desert. Putting his notebook down, he reached again for his water bottle.

“You sure you're fine?” Asha asked suspiciously. “Your eyes look awful.”

Thom pushed his water bottle cap shut and opened his mouth to answer her, but he was distracted by a sudden, very urgent itch. He wrinkled his nose and turned away, cupping his hands to his face.

Hurh-TSGHT!

“Blessings to you,” she offered. 

Thom sniffled and wiped at his nose. He could feel the familiar burning of an allergic reaction growing in his respiratory system and suddenly his stomach sank. In the haste of his departure that morning, he'd neglected to take his allergy medication.

He'd always been someone who struggled with allergies, to everything from cats to pollen to mold and dust. His youth had been full of inhalers on the sidelines of the soccer pitch, extra allergy pills packed for sleepovers, and his own air purifier for his college dorm room. Adulthood had not improved things as much as he'd hoped. He'd expected that the dry air of Egypt would be a relief to his hayfever, but he'd been warned about dust-storm season and the large amounts of pollen and mold and dust kicked up by the strong winds. The local pharmacy had put out a display of face masks only a week prior.

“Oh shit,” he groaned, digging through his backpack. Maybe he had some spare pills stowed away.

“What?” Asha asked.

“Ugh, my allergies,” he said, sniffling again. “I forgot my medicine this morning.”

“Wow, you really did fuck up the start of your day,” she teased. “You have allergies? Bad ones?”

“Yes, bad ones,” he said, reaching to the bottom of an outside pocket and feeling his rescue inhaler. At least that was some relief. “Bad enough to need a prescription daily.”

“And it's storm season,” she said. “The worst for that.”

“I've been told,” he said miserably. He could feel his eyes beginning to water and he ran his tongue along the top of his mouth and back towards his throat, trying to settle an itch.

Hhrr-TSGHHT!

He sneezed roughly into his shoulder.

“Well,” he said, pulling a bandanna out of his pack. “This might help a little.”

He tied the triangle of cloth over his nose and mouth, tucking the excess into the top of his shirt.

“Very mysterious,” Asha teased. “My work partner, Zorro.”

Thom went back to his notes, but concentrating was extremely difficult. He wrinkled his nose under the bandanna and tried to focus on his work, but the itching was too strong. 

Hehh-ehh-GSHTT!

A damp spot blossomed on the bandanna under his nose.

He clamped a hand over the fabric and pinched his nose, turning away from Asha.

NghT! Hehh...eh-TSGHT! Tsh'GXHT!

Three rapid stifles tumbled forward, held in by his fingers. 

Tsgh! Ehh-TSGH!

“Wow,” Asha said, watching. “You were not kidding.”

“No,” he said miserably, letting go of his nose. “This is pretty mild, actually. Usually I...I..hehhh...heh-TSGHT!”

He sneezed once again into the bandanna and tugged it free from his face, using it as a proper handkerchief. 

“I'll ask around to see if anyone else has some medicine,” Asha offered. “Sit down a minute.”

He sunk into a camp chair with the bandanna over his nose.

Hehh-ehhhh-GSHTT!

By the time she returned, his breath was growing wheezy and his eyes were swollen. He coughed hoarsely into his fist and swallowed hard.

“No luck,” she said.

“What going on over here?”

Doctor Rutledge was standing behind them, looking expectantly at them both.

“Thom is having an allergic reaction, Doctor,” Asha explained. “I was looking around to see if anyone had any medication.”

“And?”

“No one does,” she said. “I'm sorry, Thom.”

“That's okay,” he croaked. “I just need a minute. I—heh-SGHHT!”

He sneezed thickly into the bandana and pinched his nose before giving it a sharp blow.

“It's storm season, Thom,” Doctor Rutledge said. “The longer you're out here, the worse it'll get.”

Ehhh-GSXHTT!

He was starting to feel the strain in his lungs and he fished in his bag, curling his fingers around his rescue inhaler just in case.

“I think you should go back home, Thom,” Doctor Rutledge said. “It looks like the winds are headed this way.”

He could barely see her through his watering eyes.

“Are you sure, doctor? I could go work in one of those more covered tents across the way.”

“No, that isn't necessary. Asha, will you get him home?”

“Yes, I'll do that.”

Doctor Rutledge turned to head back to her work as Thom launched into another fit.

Ehh-tsxSHTT! Ngh'GSHT!

Thom curled in on himself, sneezing rapidly.

Tsgh-GSHT Tsh'GHT! TXGHT!

He blew his nose hard into bandana and surfaced from the fit with a wheezy gasp.

“Hold on,” he croaked, raising the inhaler. “I need this first.”

He took a puff and breathed in the medication, holding it in as long as he could before he started to cough and exhaled nosily.

Asha sighed sympathetically and held out her water bottle. He took a deep swig from it and thanked her.

“Let's go before you get worse,” she said.

They returned to the motorcycle, going slowly along the path because of Thom's swollen eyes. He shoved the helmet over his leaky face and climbed on the bike behind Asha.

The ride back into Luxor was a blur of exhausted sniffling and two very unpleasant sneezes inside the helmet before they pulled up in front of Thom's apartment.

“C'mon,” Asha said gently, taking his arm and leading him inside. He started to climb the two flights of stairs but on the first landing he was forced to pause as another fit took over, wrenching him forward with several forceful sneezes that tore out of him rapid-fire.

Hurhhh-TSGHHH! Ngh-TSGHHT! Hehh....ehh-TSCHHH!

They staggered up the next flight and into Thom's flat. He swallowed two of his prescription pills from the medicine cabinet before slouching down into his sofa and taking another puff of his inhaler.

“I thought leaving England would be the end of all this mess,” he said miserably.

“Oh no, we've got all our own special allergens here too. Storm season is infamous. I'm sure you've been told.”

“I have,” he said. “I probably would still be a bit of mess with my prescription, but I can't believe I managed to forgot taking it at all!”

“I guess we'll see,” Asha said. “There's two months of this dust. Maybe invest in a mask. Lots of people wear them this time of year.”

Eh-TSCHH!

Asha shoved a box of tissues across the coffee table towards Thom.

“And maybe invest in a few more of those too. Sounds like you might need them.”

#dustyfic

[chainzzzzsaw]

help i wrote something but its so bad and makes no sense i need someone to read it and help me 💀💀💀

(its soukoku angst:3)

(also tw for suicide)

. . .

He was having a panic attack, he couldn't breathe. He felt like he was drowning in the air that was far too humid to ever be comfortable in. His head was buried between his knees as he took harsh breaths through his nose and out through his mouth. In and out. He repeated to himself silently in his head. As he began hyperventilating, he felt cold water droplets fall down on his head, soaking his hair and the nature around him.

He was sitting in the grove of a dying tree in a place where only he and Chuuya knew about. They had gone here together years ago before Dazai had left the Port Mafia. He hasn’t been here in 4 years, so why was he here now?

He heard a crunch of dead leaves down the path he had come down. His eyes filled up with his own water droplets as he heard his name being called by the one boy he truly felt something for. “Dazai..?” It sounded muffled, like he was listening through a low quality video. He wasn't actually there. He felt dissociative. He wasn't there, but he was, and this was happening. He heard his name again, “Dazai!” followed by a tap on the shoulder. He couldn’t answer. Dazai lifted his head up and stared into Chuuya’s cold azure eyes. The longer he stared, the longer he felt his eyes and heart betray himself.

His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. It had been 4 whole years since he had last seen Chuuya, 4 whole years of his love stored inside him, did Chuuya feel the same about Dazai all this time? Why was Chuuya here now?

These were the thoughts that dashed from the left side of Dazai’s brain to the right side.

The tears that had been daring to leak out of Dazai’s eyes, had already started to come out, yet he didn't realize. The water drained out of his eyes, competing in a race to the end of Dazai’s face. Chuuya pulled Dazai up off the, now wet, dirt and said something. He didn't seem to hear it though. The rain began spilling over both of their faces now, mingling with Dazai’s tears that were still flowing.

As he felt himself slowly come back to reality, he realized Chuuya’s arm was holding his wrist, right on his bandages. He looked down, and Chuuya dropped it. “Why are you here? Why right now?” Dazai said with a whine, his voice feeling shaky, which was something that never happened to Dazai. “I always come here. I always come here and I wait for the day that you come back.” Chuuya responded almost as if he was breathless.

He felt every memory he had with Chuuya come directly back to him, stabbing him in the heart relentlessly. “Huh…” It almost came out in a whisper. Did Chuuya want Dazai to come back?

“Dazai. I- I can't just pretend like I haven't been thinking about you every day since you left… I was in love with you. That isn't something that just goes away with time.” Chuuya rambled on, but Dazai just stood there. He couldn't process what Chuuya was saying when he was talking so fast, he was going over every word in his head, but he was stuck on that word he heard.

Love.

I was in love with you.

Chuuya’s words replayed in his mind like a horrible song you can't get out of your head. It flew into his ear, and then through his mind, stabbing into his heart, and back out again, over and over.

He loved Chuuya too, he just couldn't say it. The words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Like an answer you know but you just can’t remember.

“Me? Why me? I’m not good.” Dazai didn’t even know what he was saying, better yet, he didn’t even know he was talking.

“Because you're Dazai.”

Dazai’s hands slowly brought themselves to the sides of Chuuya’s face. Chuuya flinched at the touch. He hesitated to speak, he couldn’t show vulnerability, even with Chuuya. What was wrong with Dazai? Couldn’t he let go of his pride for one second and just say that he loved him back?

Chuuya’s hands now rested upon Dazai’s, which were lazily placed on his face. He didn’t know when either of them started to lean in, but they did, and their lips touched briefly. Dazai felt his tears roll down his face even as they shared a kiss. They both pulled away from each other, wide eyed, and Dazai dropped his hands.

“…Woah.” Chuuya whispered. “Um… Uh… I’m sorry.” Dazai had guilt lingering in his voice. They hadn't even talked about how they felt for each other and here they were, kissing, after not seeing each other for 4 years?!

Dazai had a gut feeling that this wouldn’t go how he wanted it to. He wanted them to be together, stuck like glue as they once were years ago. But he knew that wouldn’t happen, not after everything he’s done, not with his current mental state.

The silence was unbearable, it consumed them both. Eating all the words they wanted to say until there was nothing left at all.

Dazai is scared to love Chuuya, he knows he brings pain to all of those around him. The misfortune and pain he has following him like a cloud is not something he wishes to push onto the one person he has learned to love. He doesn’t wish to burden him with the pressure of his feelings.

“I'm sorry…”

And with that, Dazai quickly pushed past him and jogged down the path and back to his apartment. Chuuya chased after him, not knowing what else to do, but he lost him along the way. He at least knew where Dazai lived because, as one does, he did some light stalking over the years they were apart.

. . .

Dazai had finally made it home after 10 long minutes of looking behind him to see if Chuuya had followed. Spoiler, he hadn’t. Dazai didn’t know if he was happy or disappointed about that, but right now it didn't matter to him.

His thoughts progressively got worse as he unlocked the door, stepping in quickly and dragging himself to his room. He bent down to his drawer, he felt his legs burn.

His fingers rummaged through the random items he had thrown in it, obviously searching for something. He pulled out his blade, sighing deeply, and then his eyes met the bottle of Prozac laying on the corner of his dresser, quickly snatching it up.

He didnt know which to use, but if he couldn’t choose between them, why not just use both?

And so he did. Dazai grasped both the blade and the pills, preparing himself for yet another suicide attempt. It wasn’t a foreign concept to him, as he constantly planned new methods to end his life and courageously attempted them. Dazai held a desperate hope, a wish, that one day, one of his attempts would succeed, granting him freedom from the burdensome chains of existence. He knew his attempts were always futile, yet he clung to a glimmer of hope, praying that this time, just maybe, it would be different.

He picked up the bottle of prozac and held it in his left hand, the blade in his right. His thoughts were flooding his mind and battling with each other. He felt so much regret filling his heart of all the things he didn’t do with Chuuya, the things he couldn’t do.

Dazai flung the blade and the bottle of pills onto his bed before making his way to the kitchen. He retrieved a glass and filled it to the brim with tap water. Returning to his bedroom, he carelessly dropped the cup onto his dresser. With a hesitant hand, he opened the bottle of Prozac, pouring an excess of pills into his palm. He hesitated, his hand hovering near his mouth, reluctant to ingest them.

Dazai wanted to die, he always has, it's what he's known for. So why was he hesitating? Was it because of Chuuya?

Dazai liked being in control, he hated that his mind was a slave to his heart.

He tried his best to ignore his thoughts and dropped the handful of pills into his mouth and swallowed them quickly, using the water as a chaser to get them down his throat.

He was a bit more dizzy than he had been before. He picked up the blade and held it vertically on his wrist. He took a deep breath and pressed down hard into his wrist, wincing as he dragged the blade down his forearm. He repeated the same action on his other arm, blood was now dripping down onto the floor in puddles.

He sat down on the floor with his back against his bed, using the rest of the energy he had left to cut anywhere else that would contribute to a successful attempt because he knew well that there was always a way to survive any suicide attempt.

His neck?

Dazai’s neck was leaking like a waterfall, spilling all over his shirt. He felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness. His eyes felt heavy. He knew this would be the attempt that brought him to that oh so peaceful deep sleep that is death.

What Dazai didn’t know is that Chuuya was on his way right now, passing through numerous red lights just to get to him. The first thing that Chuuya would see when he came into Dazai’s room, is Dazai’s body being drained of the life that was left inside of him. That thought alone gave his heart a squeeze.

He thinks he heard banging at his front door, maybe he's just delirious. Was Dazai dissociating again? The banging got even louder and then it stopped and a louder bang came shortly after with a crash following. The door was knocked down, Ha, it’s Chuuya.

Dazai heard his name being called along with heavy footsteps, but there was nothing he could do to answer. His skin was as pale as paper and his clothes were drenched in his own blood.

Chuuya kicked into Dazai’s room and saw his body, bleeding out. Dazai felt himself smile.

“I- wh — Dazai-” He fumbled on his words. Chuuya felt like he couldn’t move, he felt stuck. He was tearing up, his eyes now cloudy. He forced his body to move and brought his hands around Dazai.

Chuuya looked into Dazai’s empty brown eyes and felt sick, his hands trembling. Their eyes locked and Dazai’s smile immediately faded and his face turned into something akin to frantic.

Dazai had just realized that maybe he didn’t want to die. At least, not now.

Something about looking into eyes that were burning with life while he was about to run out of his own did something to him. Dazai felt his body slowly slipping away with each faint breath he tried to take in. Water began piling up on his lash line once again.

His lungs were begging for air and he felt lightheaded. Dazai was going to die now. He had slit his wrists, neck, and took way more prozac than any doctor would ever recommend.

Chuuya’s hands were holding onto Dazai, he was saying something but Dazai couldn’t hear it. A black veil began clouding over his vision and Dazai knew what that meant. He wanted to open his eyes, stop dying for a second so he could tell Chuuya what he’s been wanting to say since the day they met.

The last thing he heard was muffled yelling and a phone ringing.

. . .

Dazai’s eyes finally opened, but he wasn’t with Chuuya and he wasn’t in a hospital. He had finally succeeded at something, but death was something he no longer craved.

Whenever Dazai was with Chuuya, all his thoughts of suicide seemed to float away. When Dazai was with Chuuya, he didn’t have to worry about anything. When Dazai was with Chuuya, he wanted to try living. Chuuya was the lightbulb in Dazai’s dark room.

Dazai's life had always seemed bleak in Chuuya's absence. The fleeting moments of genuine happiness he experienced were intertwined with memories of Oda and Chuuya. With Oda gone and now Dazai's own passing, those moments felt even more distant.

Dazai now found himself overwhelmed by his emotions, their intensity hitting him like crashing waves. These waves, reminiscent of water, stirred memories of the cold blue hue of Chuuya's eyes.

help idk if im done with this but idk what to add.. i just hate this but i need input from others it feels so rushed to me

#soukoku #soukoku angst #double black #duo black #dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #chuuya #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #dazai x chuuya #osamu x nakahara #angst #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd angst #i actually hate this #ughhhh #i love them

[frecklystars]

GOD!!!!! 😭😭💓💗💖💓💓💞💞💕💟💝💘💝💝💞💗💘💝💟💓💗💞💕💟💝💘💓💖💓💕💕

#I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE MAKES ME SO SO SO HAPPY 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #love notes #💕♬♪ ♡ I fall more in love with you every day (Blue) Valentine - ̗̀💙💌🍦 ̖́- #love that every Ryan character has just become another bf to make me feel safe and loved #I have come so far from where I was one year ago #i love that i can self ship with this guy and im like YES he loves me he protects me he would never hurt me #its hard to feel that way 24/7 but i feel that way at least half of the time now #and thats all that matters is that im getting better even if its fluctuating and messy. i AM getting better #because i know one year ago today i would not have been able to self ship with any characters whatsoever #Dean isn't even a villain or a serial killer or whatever he's just some dude. just some guy in a jacket. #but back then i just could not for the life of me feel safe with anyone bc the abuse was so fresh #and just. thank god i am at a point where i can ship with some characters now. even when it's so goddamn HARD #its at least HAPPENING. y'know. like. i am healing even if it's so fucking SLOW going #the fact that i can look at this 5 second scene and feel a burst of love in my heart #and think to myself 'yeah yeah he loves me so much he'd hold me through my nightmares too' #that's. huge. compared to a year ago where i just. could not. #it hasn't even been a year since i cut my abuser from my life yet and im already making little progress #even if it's. so. minuscule. there is progress happening just bc of the passing of time #and the fact that Barbie came into my life exactly when it was supposed to and Ryan's been in all these movies i can focus on #it all worked out like the stars were aligned perfectly for me to meet these F/Os and for them to heal me #i don't think that's coincidence or accident or anything. i think that's some... universal or spiritual thing #like something out there is looking out for me even if it's just the galaxy itself #these characters were meant for me and i was planned to meet them and for them to heal me #slowly one day at a time. ANYWAY. WAHHH. HUGGING AND KISSING DEAN PEREIRA MY SILLY BOYFRIEND

[sysig]

Ughhhhhhh

#I just......wanted to work on some new video editing techniques.......... #Spoiler: It went........so fucking bad lol #Like restart my computer because it basically stopped functioning bad #That seems like a non sequitor but believe me getting from A to Z was an awful ordeal #I've been curious for a while if I could sync up my footage to the audio - y'know cut the video up in time with the music! Classic #Normally I'd fall back on WMM but it has this annoying desync glitch(?) where it renders everything correctly but previews it out of time #So trying to line up the visuals to the audio - well I have to restart and listen through everything so far for it to align properly :/ #Lightworks is being a bitch as well - I guess it just stopped?? having a feature that it had a couple years ago that controls clip length #So I get random-length clips! That I can't stretch or extend! Y'know - The Thing I need to do! #I also tried Openshot and by about the point the advice had me changing my security settings I noped out #Literally would crash if I tried to import one (1) .png >:P #And I'm not about to give my info to Yet Another freeware like DaVinci Resolve since it went So Well with Lightworks #Didn't stop me from downloading and installing the wrong version for like an hour which Greatly lagged out my computer #And then as said it was the wrong version even if I did have access to it so I wouldn't be able to use it anyway! #How come we have such good opensource video capture and streaming software like OBS #And like LibreOffice for word processing and Audacity for audio and just - so many good opensource programs! #But video editing is a step too far #Ugh #Today's been a wash >:/ #At least my uptime is all shiny sparkly new for streaming maybe tomorrow lol #I dunno it depends on how sleep goes - y'know how it is after being frustrated for so long #I really wanted to! I wanted to do a lot of things >:( #I'll see how it all goes #Guess I'm going back to WMM - ugh - once I've properly cooled down and Actually Prepared for the slog #If anyone has any video editing software recommendations I am all ears tho #Obviously not any of the ones mentioned here as they Did Not Work lol #I just want........an intuitive place where I can drag-and-drop images and be able to crop their length up or down to the audio #Hell I'll take a patch for the desync if such a thing exists lol - looks like it's been a problem for like 10 years! Hgg #I just want to Make Thing In Head happen! It is not a lack of will! I am 100% blaming my tools on this one lol #I'm an amateur video editor I have the right to be whiny! I want a tool that isn't hell to operate! JFLHFJKLFHIOSEJF Anyway lol

[idiaa-shroxd]

Unfortunately I don't play Genshin anymore due to storage problems BUT IM ALSO A WANDERER MAIN LMAO AND OMFG THANK YOY VERY MUCH FOR THE COMPLIMENT COMING FROM SOMEONE WHO'S ONE OF MY FAV AUTHORS AND YES FARUZAN SUPREMACY AAAAAAAAAAA ILY SM<333

I'm literally going crazy bc you replied to my crazed fan ask HAHAHAHAHA

\(//∇//)\ i am definitely not responding late!! i perceive time like a normal human would.. and that’s so crazy!! ♡

i have loved wanderer since maybe my first time hearing his existence?? i’m not a day-one-er but quite close! so glad he did not get signora’d. if you play on mobile you can try deleting the app and redownloading because the clear old files option doesn’t actually clear everything, and sometimes a redownload may be able to fit within your storage! i absolutely adore faruzan though!! peak character design even if she is genshin’s hatsune miku, not complaining though i think her glass looking dress-skirt is amazing. (*´∀`)♪

i’m happy to be able to talk and respond to people!! getting asks just talking to me or people sending things like how they think my writing style is pretty makes me super happy!! so i’m equally as fanboy-ing when you and others talk to me!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

#you can ignore the tags they are just random thoughts but there’s also like a responsible crewel brainrot at the bottom!! #i seriously cannot respond in a mandated time because my concept of time is warped?? what do you mean 2015 was 8 years ago what do you mean #also does not help i get so distracted with my own fic like legs twiddling thinking of my yuu that no one will see with his dorm and their #lore that i need to write down but then i get distracted trying to draw my characters and oh dear where did time go #im normal about my characters (fake) but everyone probably has that one oc they have like a story kit on the ready to drop on friends #another genshin rant but i got thundering pulse!! so far no weapon banner loss- 1 lost 50/50 but to tighnari so no loss #considering he would be hardest to get on a bows only acc with no guarantee on ever having the boy #i actually barely started the event because i did not feel like getting to inazuma legit. would rather speed run or glitch to inazuma #but now my yoimiya banner is like 20 pity at least but now that’s also a problem because?? i want her c1 actually but need to save stop bad #i also get distracted by fun ideas!! like father figure crewel or a reader that is like his unofficial assistant please let me brainrot for #the class. so reader is not in a club unlike grim who canonically is one but in this fic reader is crewels unofficial student assistant and #helps him at his club bc iirc he’s the science club advisor and they spend time after school grading exam papers with #him and he has cookies and talks to you for hours and you can come early to clean the classroom and can just rant about the boys or rmshckle #he basically is the one you go to because crowley will not do anything!! #in my universe (ehe) my yuu and his dormmate crewels nephew have a uniform designed by nephew+crewel so id like to think in this brainrot #that crewel gifted you a uniform he designed. also ALSO!! he makes sure you eat #and that you are not bullied. he also took it upon himself to give you challenging material so he can prepare you to live within a foreign #environment. considering how you are almost not guaranteed to do so well on your own so he teaches you things not school related like basic #sew life skills or tidbits he knows from being an adult that’s all #questions of styx.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Same anon as before, I’m happy that you’re accepting yourself! That’s great news. I had a very similar situation where I was very embarrassed about what character my brain chose to project onto, but after working with my therapist and years of reflection I’ve realized it had to be that character because they were the only one I could see myself in, we were both abused in certain ways that made it like looking in a mirror, and being Him meant that I was able to protect myself because he could (character is someone “dangerous” in their world). So I really think it comes down to a reflection of trauma, and there’s nothing to be ashamed about. We coped with what our brains found the most comfort in.

If I can ask, what does your therapist think about it? Only wondering because with my therapist, they are aware we have fictives of this character as well as the system as a whole projects through him but I’m still trying to figure out if it’s part fictives and other part alters with psychotic attachments or if there’s something else at play as well like past lives (the old fictionkin community used to be big into that but I know it’s not so much anymore so I’m a little embarrassed but I am still a spiritual person) alr that’s all, looking forward to your response!

First of all, I'm glad to hear back from you anon!!

My therapist and I figured roughly the same thing happened with me! When I say I use this character as a therapy tool, I don't think it's appreciated enough that it's bc my therapist familiarized himself with the source - my therapist watched (and enjoyed) 148 episodes of anime for my sessions and I cannot stress that enough lmao; we're pretty sure that what happened was that I saw a lot of my emotional trauma play out again in front of me in his character arc, mostly in the way he perceives himself but also with how he struggles with his emotions and general interactions with the world (with my own difficulty with such coming from the climate of the family that abused me). He did serve as a mirror, not just of my own trauma, but also of what I wish I could have done, which was to lash out and genuinely own my anger and frustration and do something. Of course there's a lot more to it, but with just covering the surface, looks like we've had pretty similar experiences!

As for my therapist's thoughts on this, we actually haven't put any clinical labels on it. I personally like labels, they make me feel sure and certain about things in my life, which is why I tried to nail this down with the OSDD/DDNOS (complete with question mark) in my bio, but truth be told I'm not entirely sure I meet the full criteria for either of them, in spite of the genuine experiences I've had with what definitely feels like multiplicity of some sort. Interestingly enough, while I myself am not very spiritual, my therapist did make a mention that this is an experience that I could try looking at through a spiritual lens, especially since it's been coming up a lot more as I'm trying to rework some deeply held thought patterns. There's been a pretty positive outlook on it overall and he encouraged me to interact with it - the episodes tend to come with some specific thoughts and feelings, so we're treating them (and by extension, this character) as a sort of conduit for them, sort of like a messenger bringing attention to them. This is all some pretty specific info for my stuff though lmao, I just wanted to cover the ground as thoroughly as I could 💖

#part of me genuinely does wanna reach out to the fictionkin community just for the value of having potential community experience #but also. maybe I'll just watch them for a bit and think about it lmao #my experiences with my dissociation is like. it feels like there's someone else with me you know? im alone but i can feel someone else #and I'm holding their feelings and thoughts in those moments #if i believed in ghosts hardcore this would 100% make me think im possessed but fortunately i recognize where #all this is coming from as far as functionality and the name attached; funnnily enough i remember a video my roommate #put on and it was talking about psychosis scenes in movies + gauging them for accuracy #and the guy starts talking about DID and I'm like okay i definitely dont meet the criteria for that but I'm half paying attention #and he mentions that one of the things that people have reported is feeling like they're possessed and i just sat there FLOORED by this #bc that was exactly how I'd described the feelings in therapy; 1:1 word for word 😳 again i know for sure i dont have DID #but the same guidelines that make up the definitions and criteria are kinda also running along my dissociative episodes as well #ive already said so much in the tags but i did have a session where i just sat there and was like. i want to love every part of myself #and that includes the episodes; i know they're a protective measure and i dont wanna feel like I'm fighting them anymore #that was months ago; this is by far the most vocal ive been about it #it took almost a year for me to settle into it and be able to talk about it even in therapy but I'm so glad i can do it now #and I'm so glad to be hearing from people who understand how this feels 💖💖💖 thank you so much again!!! #im realizing that i actually have a lot of thoughts on this now that im actually understanding it a lot better #the asks are just giving me some chances to infodump a little hehe 💕 #you're welcome in my inbox any time!! thanks again!! 💖💖💖 #asks

[samuraisharkie]

I’ve said this to friends earlier but I’m saying it here, lately i keep telling myself everytime I balk at doing things bc I don’t feel quite “right” yet, just “do it scared”, “do it weird”, “do it badly” “but do it” LOL my new mantra while I’m fighting my way out of silent hill, no “just do it” bc that doesn’t hit quite right, I have to add “scared/weird/wrong/badly” for it to hit right. idk why but it’s probably a good mentality to have to avoid getting stuck

#I have a VERY bad habit of being such a perfectionist that I just don’t do things if I know it’s not going to turn out exactly how I want #like recently I’ve been trying to draw again and instead of doing my own shit I’ve been tracing old art from myself #bc I’m afraid of what will come out of I just do something new right now bc I know I’m out of practice #and I get discouraged seeing myself go backwards after years of effort to improve #but the thing is the ONLY way to stop that and get back to where I was is to do it scared and badly #bc practice and habit really are the two most important things to improve #as much as I have always hated hearing that bc I’m incapable of forming habits like most people do #so it always has to be a conscious effort on my part instead of natural cycle #but if I want to be proud of my work I can’t wait until I ‘feel better’ bc those days are few and far between #and I’ll end up disappointed if I keep holding myself to standards I met years ago instead of the ones I need today

[diari0deglierrori]

Getting hit with a sudden nostalgia because it’s the end of the year and I’ll soon have to take an important decision for my future but I’m still so unsure about many things

#like should I go with my brain or with my heart? #in a way I’d have more possibilities in one place but it’ll come with the price of my mental health #but on the other side in the other option it won’t really be easy it would be more challenging and unsure #but at the same time it’s where I feel more at peace #now is it just because I’m trying my best to ignore other things? is it truly the best decision who knows #now whatever I choose is not necessarily terminal I could do one thing next year and another the next one #so even if I don’t take the right one right now it doesn’t mean I’ll be stuck with it my whole life #ok maybe slow down a bit I’m not there yet #but I woke up two hours ago with not enough sleep yet unable to stop thinking about that #I even thought about goodbye messages already for people who have really been there for me this year which meant a lot of tears as well #also now I understand much better how hard it must have been for my father to go live so far away from his family #for that long and what it could have meant for him #specially since some things were more complicated too at the time like ways to communicate and all #while I also understand the reasons why he did I know it also broke his heart for many reasons in a way I didn’t understand as much before #k stfu

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time