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#a little angsty
mamayan · 7 months
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★彡Gentle☆彡
Giyuu Tomioka x GN! Reader
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Giyuu is always gentle and firm when you need it.
tw: Fluff • Cuddling • Reader is described as “soft” • Hurt/Comfort • Depression • Please do not read if seeing descriptors of depression is triggering to you. This is meant to uplift not harm. Do not read if this does not seem supportive to your journey.
Again.
The day passed by again, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.
Again.
The thought of doing something as simple as bathing left you feeling exhausted.
Again.
You felt the dread filling you up inside, like the tide rising, and you were drowning once more in silence.
No one liked to talk about it. Reality was far too nasty an image to allow for others to see, so it was smashed down to avoid the light of day. Except, as you woke again in the middle of the night, you realized maybe it was all of you avoiding the light of day. Shamefully hidden away from prying eyes, hushed whispers of servants as they quietly performed their chores in the early morning when you finally went to sleep. Your eyes glanced at the empty bed beside you, numbly noting he still wasn’t back.
Was he dead?
The thought filled you with nausea even as you lay limp.
A divider moved, alerting you to a presence.
“I brought you food…” the voice which spoke was small and unsure. Your eyes were all which moves, seeing the silhouette of a Kakushi, their features hidden like always.
“Thank you…” it was the first time you’d spoken in nearly a week. You forced yourself to sit up, even as tears pricked your eyes as the Kakushi shuffled into the bedroom, placing a tray beside the bed even as your stomach pleaded not to do this. It was lying to you, you knew it was, but you were struggling—
“Tomioka-sama is back!” It was a distant cry, carrying into the room through an echo.
You flinched, cringing inward on yourself as the Kakushi beside you seemed to light up. You didn’t share the excitement, despite your relief flooding you at his safe return. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to see him. It was the opposite in fact… what if he didn’t want to see you?
They were going to report on you. They always did, nothing deeper than the loyalty of those within the ranks of the corpse. While Giyuu wasn’t the most beloved amongst the Hashira themselves, he was still adored and respected by all the others. His dedication and hard work undeniably charming as he risks his life every time he takes a mission.
Where did that leave you? While he fought for his life and others away you were rotting like someone already—
“Tomioka-sama, welcome home!” You hadn’t even heard his foot steps. Your head snapping up to stare blankly at the stoic face of your lover. While his face didn’t give much away, his eyes seemed to swim with worry as he entered the room you both shared cautiously. He nodded absentmindedly at the Kakushi rushing out, likely overjoyed to no longer be baby sitting you. You looked away, feelings of shame and anger somehow muted beneath the metaphorical water which kept you submerged in your sorrow.
He was quiet. Even as he moved the tray of food to the side to sit beside you, before setting the tray in his lap, hardly any noise passed.
With your head down, you had a perfect view of the chopsticks entering your field of vision. The war with your stomach won, as you open your lips to allow him to feed you. Even as tears slid down your cheeks, Giyuu didn’t hesitate to softly wipe them away as he fed you each bite of food until the tray was nearly empty.
You no longer felt as nauseous, the burning in your stomach gone as well. Giyuu had a hand against your mid-back, keeping you from pulling away as he helped you drink the water brought with your dinner.
“All of it,” his voice a bit husky as he hums in approval as you do as told. Finishing all of the water before he relents and moves the tray completely out of the way.
You sniff, feeling better and worse all at once because you had certainly needed the food but absolutely did not need the shame which followed. It should be you feeding him, he’s the one who’s been on mission, risking his life and who knows what else out there. You knew logically this would pass, it’s not your fault, it’s not anything new but—
“Shh,” he’s so gentle as his lithe arms wrap around you and encourage you to lean into him. He’s gentle as he cups the back of your head and lets you rest your cheek against his collarbone. He releases one hand to lightly trail down your spine and back up, letting you feel his presence but not overwhelming you.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this,” you whisper in confession. His arm squeezes you, his grunt making a small smile tilt on your lips. You could image his brows are furrowed.
“You have nothing to be sorry for my love.” His words released a damn inside of you though, as your tears welled and spilled freely.
He pulled back, cupping your cheek and looking shaken and panicked as you sobbed. “I do though— I’m like, like this, and I, I don’t want to be,” you’re nearly inconsolable, even as he tries to hush and kiss you. Your heart physically aching inside the confines of your chest as you grip his haori tight and cry.
“I don’t know why I’m like this—!” Your world spins just as the words finish leaving your mouth.
You huff, startled out of your tears as you look up at Giyuu, his face stern as he grips your jaw with one hand, the other beside your face keeping him above you.
“You are everything to me,” his voice is deeper, clearer as he speaks now, “and I know just how suffocating this state can be.” He forced your head up, making you look into his eyes which you feared held resentment towards you.
They don’t.
His dark blue gaze is only filled with patience and kindness, breaking your heart and yet somehow repairing it too.
His weight descends as you struggle to fight back more tears. His weight solid and comforting on top of you as you soak in his warmth and the scent he carries which smells like home. He is your home. And you were his.
You wrapped your arms around him, spreading your legs and allowing him even closer. It was intimate yet not sexual, as he circled one arm around your waist and another beneath your head. Your soft body pliant beneath him. His breath fanning over your cheek as he left small kisses on your skin.
So gently.
Whispering words of love to you.
“I’m so lucky to have you…” his lips felt ticklish.
“Thankful to see you after every mission.”
“Always fighting to come back to you…”
“I love you,” you’re nearly asleep in his arms, surrounded entirely by Giyuu as a blanket of safety envelops you.
The sun might rise and fall tomorrow without ever seeing your skin, but that’s alright.
He’s home again and by your side through it all.
Words of love from me to you. I know it might not be possible to leave the bed today, or tomorrow, and the thought of eating or waking might make you sick… but I promise your body needs it. If nothing else, let a gentle Giyuu encourage you through the day. Let your f/o be there for you. Heck, drop in my inbox if you need another character— don’t let yourself suffer in silence alone♡
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danifesting · 8 months
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How about Maxiel + 32? ❤️
Daniel hasn't been in his apartment in long time and it shows. Dust motes float through the air highlighted in the sunlight and it smells closed in, closed off, un-lived in. He shouldn't even be here right now, really. He's not meant to. Most of his things, his clothes, his music, his books, even his helmets and trophies have migrated to Max's, to their place. Or at least it's supposed to be. That's what they agreed on. Daniel kept his place for appearances only, a legal address, a place with his name for plausible deniability only.
And yet, here Daniel stands, choking on the dust left behind in the wake of the biggest argument he and Max have ever had. It started with Jos, like their fights usually do, the bitter, mean man twisting Max around and making him hurt, making him lash out at Daniel.
"Aren't you tired of it?" Daniel had asked, voice gentle, hands soft on Max's hip. "Aren't you tired of letting him make you feel this way? I can't keep watching it Max. I can't keep watching him hurt you like this."
Max's face had contorted into a mask of anger. "He's my father Daniel. I cannot just shut him out."
"You can, and maybe you should. He makes you hate yourself for being who you are, for loving who you love. For loving me."
Max had turned away then and said with quiet fury. "Get out. You cannot make me choose."
"I'm not trying to make you choose! I just want you to..."
"I said get out. I meant it."
So Daniel had listened. He'd left and now he's here in his dusty apartment, empty of the things that made it his. He sits down on the couch and puts is head in his hands and shouts "Fuck!" He wants to put his fist through the wall but instead he cries. For how long, he doesn't know, but then there's a knock on the door and Max's voice calling from the other side.
"Daniel! Daniel! Please! Let me in!"
Daniel takes a shuddery breath, crosses to the door and opens it. Max is standing there, panting and disheveled. He pulls Daniel into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he whispers into Daniel's ear. "You're right and I'm sorry."
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heyidkyay · 1 month
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1:02
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'This song is about a girl [friend] that I had. She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. I loved her but she didn’t feel the same way. I don’t even think she knew I loved her. This song is about the times I had with her. As she and I became close friends, we had traditions. It was kinda like our thing, y'know? We’d somehow always coincidentally be out at exactly 1:02AM, so that was our thing. Now whenever I’m awake at 1:02AM, I think of her and I let her go.'
102 (Acoustic) - The 1975
She doesn't know.
Doesn’t know what it does to him when she thieves the cigarette right from out of his mouth. Doesn’t know how hard his heart pounds when she settles in closer, when her knee touches his own. Doesn’t see the way he watches her grin, eyes always catching. 
Doesn’t realise how far gone he is now. She doesn’t know.
“Guess what time it is then.” She says to him, smiling coyly while her eyes dance over the expression he wears. They’re at the common again, she’s sat close enough that her arm brushes his whenever she rants, and he can’t find it in him to pull away. It's a little masochistic.
He gifts her a glance, then pretends to look away because what she doesn’t know is that he can still see her just in the corner of his eye. The corner of his mind. “Ask a better question.”
“Awh, come on!” She complains around a hearty chuckle, nudging him with her elbow just as he takes another drag. He’d brought ten on his way over, only had about four left now. The thought had him wondering how far he could stretch them, how far he could keep her for. “It’s our thing, don’t ruin it by bein’ a prat.”
He snorts, blowing out smoke with it, then he rolls his eyes. “One, oh three.”
She narrows her eyes in turn, “You’re actually a proper dickhead.”
He grins, can feel the stretch of it even as tries to dampen it. She reaches out then, stealing the fag for herself. She looks maddening in that moment, in this light, and he hates himself for thinking it, and for the way he watches her lips wrap around his cigarette, cause he knows it’s the only that way theirs would ever meet. Around the butt of a shared smoke.
“Wanna know who I saw earlier anyway, when I was out with our Kirsty?” She continues on, always so oblivious to his state of mind.
“Go on then.” He replies, picking at a fray in his jeans to keep from wanting to touch. Though he can already guess who.
“Fucking Dean.” And yeah, there it is. He prods her for his cigarette back and she gives him it, already yapping away again, completely unaware of how his entire being has slumped at the name.
Dean Willis was a right cunt. A mug amongst mugs, in truth. He’d been in the year above them at school, threw a couple good parties in his time, and had played for the local rugby team. He’d moved down south to try and make it big, but he’d heard Dean was back home when talking with Ross the other day. He hadn’t said a thing to her about it, hoping that the prick was just stopping in to see his mum.
“.. and he had the nerve to just smile when he passed us by, said ‘alright’ and then carried on!" Matty tunes back in to hear her complain, smiling softly when he sees the way her nose has scrunched up unhappily and how she’s now gesturing this way and that. “You believe that? After what we had and what he did, he just swans back in with an alright! He’s a right cunt is what he is.”
Ha. He takes another drag before passing it back off to her.
“What you smiling about anyway?” She tuts, rolling her eyes at him before she finishes off the embering end.
“Nothing,” He answers, still smiling yes, he knows, but he can’t seem to help it. “Just like seeing you all riled up.”
She glares but concedes easily enough, the beginnings of a smile wilting her stern frown. She knocks their shoulders together, “He just pisses me off is all. That, and the fact that he’s back for good. Upped and left without a second thought to what it’d do to-”
He stopped listening after that. Back for good, she’d said. What the fuck did that mean for them then, for him? Back for good. He was stuck on it. 
By the time he made it in that night, it was gone three. He’d wandered about outside for a bit after dropping her off home, chuckling away to himself when he’d watched her shuffle up to her bedroom window, before finally slipping his way through his own front door.
His dad is away in Spain again, filming, but he knows his mum's around, he’d seen her earlier that morning, so he has to be quiet getting in. Though it isn't all that hard, not when he’s had years of practice. 
He makes his way through the kitchen, grabbing at whatever leftovers his mum had left when she’d gone out for dinner and then shuffles his way up the stairs. Lou’s room is right by the landing so he treads a little lighter there and closes his own bedroom door with a quiet click, glad for the ability to finally shuck off his jeans.
By the time he’s stuck the stereo on low and settled himself on the end of his bed to eat, he's all but ready to pass the fuck out. Knows he shouldn’t though, that he should have something more than a pack of fags for tea, but he hardly ever feels tired. And it’s the drowsy sort, the kind he knows will knock him out instead of coercing him under the covers only to plague him with another fit of insomnia.
He chews on a few bites, his stomach hungry for it but the thought of sleep turning it all to mush in his mouth. He gets up to throw it down onto his desk, figures he’ll deal with it tomorrow or when it gets all grim and his mum complains about a smell. 
But before he can turn around again, he spots the shirt hanging off the back of the chair there. The same one she’d stolen and sported the last time she’d been round. When she’d fallen asleep on his bed whilst watching a film and he’d been left to keeping quiet in the dark in hopes not to wake her.
He stills for a long second, then almost unconsciously sees his hand reaching out to grasp it. Her perfume flutters at the movement, filling his head, and so he doesn’t really feel his feet start to move, or the way he falls to sit down on the edge of his bed. Contemplating what to do with it, to do with himself. 
An itch gnaws at him, the voice in the back of his head telling him to phone her because it simply wants to hear her voice. But he knows she’ll be asleep, it’s closer to four than three now. 
He clutches at the shirt and thinks back to tonight, how she’d complained for ages and he’d just listened, to the promise of her buying the first round this Friday when they all went out, to her shoes and how they’re fucking worn to bits but also her only favourites.
Sleep crowds the edges of his mind but all he’s got are words now filling up his head, so he keeps the shirt close, even as he gets up to grab his guitar and then settle back on the bed. Lets it sit in his lap whilst he plucks at strings. Thoughts of her filling his room.
“You, you, you..”
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vivaciouscynner · 1 year
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I Never Hated You
"Hey, what's bothering you?" Adora sat next to her on their couch. It didn't face a tv or fireplace, but the giant window to their garden.
Catra was silent at first. It wasn't until she looked up at Adora's worried face did she start to speak. She offered a little huff, "It's nothing. Don't worry. I'm just... reflecting, y'know?" She looked up again to see Adora nudging her with an expression to continue. "Adora-" she dragged out the name.
"Come on, you should get it off your chest."
"Fine, but don't get like... defensive."
"I'm not! I mean..., I'm- I won't."
Catra rolled her eyes, but after another moment, she looked outside and stared to the garden like she was afraid how Adora would look if she held her gaze. "Look, it's in the past, it doesn't matter any more I just wanted to know is all. You said you never hated me..."
"Yeah, that's true. I said it and I meant it."
Catra continued to look out. "How- how is that even possible? Because I saw it once." She glanced at Adora who seemed perplexed by the idea that she even have the capability. "After the- when we-," she sighed hard. And she took the moment that she knew Adora was giving her. She could still see Adora was getting more tense the longer she waited. "When you made everything right after the portal." She hugged her knees and curled her tail. "That look you gave me when I got Hordak out. Then."
Air expelled from Adora's chest slow and steady realizing what she meant. She stayed silent for a moment, not to think about it, but to provide safety. "I can talk about it if you want, but only if you know that I love you and that will never change."
She turned her head towards Adora and said, "Okay."
"It wasn't hate. I didn't hate you then. I was furious. I was hurt. And I know I hurt you, too. I know this. But I didn't hate you."
"Adora, I wanted everything to burn. I wanted to end-"
"Am I wrong to say that you were not well?"
"Oh come on, don't act like I didn't know what I was I doing. I didn't care."
"Did you know I gave up?" Catra narrowed her eyes at this. "After I hit you, I thought I had time to reach the sword. I didn't. The world collapsed beneath me and I knew I failed. But you know what else I felt? Relief." She paused to let it sink in. "You know how hard I tried to be the spitting image of what everyone wanted me to be. And then, when I had no other options but to be consumed by the portal, I just said, 'Okay' and I was, for the briefest of moments, relieved I didn't have the responsibility to be chosen anymore. And then Angella scooped me up and all that fear all that pressure came right back. I was angry. And she-" Her throat slowly tightened and she closed her eyes to settle herself. "She didn't even let me be the one to pull out the sword. She didn't give me the option to end it." She raked and tousled her hair with her hand. "In hindsight, obviously this is better, being with you, it's better, but when I got through, when I got back, I was angry with her and I was angry with you."
"W-Why her?" Catra sniffed a tear away.
She swallowed, "Because the giant list of problems I was set to fix, that giant list that fizzled away when I thought it was all over, it all came back and then she added on to it. Not only did I fail to get the sword out myself, but I failed Glimmer. And don't get me wrong, I know what she did was noble and brave, but I was envious. Because that was supposed to be me." She tilt her head back as if that would stop the tears from leaking out. She sniffed into a saddened laugh. "I didn't know what I was doing back then - I kept fucking up. I was supposed to be the ultimate power and Bow and Glimmer and the other Princesses still had to save my ass. And this one thing I could have done was taken away from me. And I was angry with you," she sighed out, "Not even for pulling the switch."
Through teary eyes, "Then?"
"I was envious. I didn't know what you were going through back then. I really didn't, so what I say next, please don't-"
"I'm not, Adora, obviously."
"I thought how," she looked at her and then away, "wonderful it must have been to not care. Because I wanted so much to stay with you. I didn't want to fix anything, I didn't want to say yes to every problem. I didn't even know what She-Ra was capable of then, but I had her and surely she was able. And I thought how easy it would have been if you fixed everything, because you're more capable. Why couldn't you be She-Ra? I didn't know what I was thinking-"
This earned Adora a teary laugh that came with spare change. Adora reached behind her to get her a tissue. After Catra wiped her nose, she mocked, "For the honor of grAYsKulL!" They laughed a little together.
Their eyes met. "I really never hated you."
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genocidalfetus · 5 months
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So hold me, Until it sleeps.
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16magnolias · 6 months
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What Once Was Lost
Encantober Day 3: Reunion
Antonio wasn't really sure what everyone was looking for. 
There was nothing left but bricks and dust and broken things, but everyone else was turning things over and moving stuff around, like they could find something really important if they just looked hard enough.
He hadn’t seen anyone find anything important yet.  Nothing that made people yell and cry and hug and laugh like everyone did when they found Mirabel.  Or when Tío Bruno came back with her.
He was so, so glad they were both back. When they were both gone and he didn’t know where, and no one else even knew Tío was missing and he didn’t know what to say – it was like something really, really heavy was sitting on his chest. It made it hard to breathe and hard to think about anything else.
But now everyone was back and they were already starting to fix – everything.
He wasn’t big enough to help with the really big stuff, but he did what he could, and - 
Wait.
A flash of something - the glint of sunlight - not Mamí’s sunlight, not anymore - but a glint of sunshine off of a button eye.  Just there beneath a chunk of wall and a piece of his old house that he didn't want to think about was the familiar stuffed face of a little jaguar.
Parce Jr.
He gasped and ran and nearly dove into the pile, but someone grabbed him around the waist.  They lifted him up and his legs were running through air but he wanted that jaguar.
He needed it.
“Eh, mijo - what do you see in there?  It’s dangerous to go running into piles of debris like that,” his padre said, setting him down gently.  
Antonio turned to look up at him, and he opened his mouth to tell him about Parce Jr., but instead all that came out was a hiccup and then - tears.
He didn’t know why he was crying, but he was.  
"Oh – hey. It will be okay. What did you find there, mijo?" Papí bent down to hug him.
Antonio flung himself against his padre, pressing into his warm shirt. His Papí’s arms wrapped around him and held him close, rubbing small circles into his back.
"Eh, it's okay, Toñito. Everything will be okay. You'll see.  Just tell me what you saw - tell me what you want.”
Antonio pointed.  He could still see Parce Jr. in there, buried under so many things.  It was probably hurting him.
Papí crouched down beside him so he could see, and he made a small sound of surprise.  “Ah!  Your stuffed jaguar?”
Antonio nodded.  “It’s Parce Jr.  We have to get him out, Papí!”  He rubbed the tears from his cheeks but more came to take their place.  “We have to get him out because - because - ”
His padre gave him a look of sad understanding and Antonio sniffled.  “ - because - I don’t - know  - we just - we - have to rescue him.” He sniffed again. “I need him.”
Papí nodded.  “Then, mijo,” he said softly, “we will rescue him.”  He called for some help and they all did their best to dig his stuffed animal out of the rubble. Antonio watched them carefully the entire time.
When they finally freed Parce Jr., Papí brushed off the dust and handed him to Antonio. 
He held it up, studying it seriously. 
The jaguar's head flopped down and its crooked little smile was still in place and he didn't know why but all of a sudden he was crying again.
He held his little stuffed jaguar and squeezed it with all his might and cried into its soft dusty body. 
His padre rubbed his back and patted his head and when Antonio pulled away with a sigh, he gave him a small, understanding smile.
Antonio sniffled and nodded. "Parce Jr. is okay," he said, rubbing his nose with his sleeve and showing off his little buddy. 
"I’m very glad to hear that, mijo.  He is okay.  And you know what?  We will be, too. All of us, together.”
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Other prompts on AO3 here
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thedummysdummy · 1 year
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I'll Always Find You
Part 1 can be found here: One Small Decision
All the responses had been the same. “Nope, haven’t seen or heard from her.” Victor slammed a fist on his desk in desperation-fueled frustration. He could go to the police, he supposed, but doubted they’d take him seriously. It had been less than 24 hours and she was an adult. They’d had a fight. He’d just be eye-rolled out of their office…
So he went back to the stack of evolvers. Every minute ticking by was a drip of water torture serving to drive him insane. He called her after each page and despite the calls going straight to voicemail each time, Victor found himself holding his breath through that single ring. Stupid, stupid, stupid…
Everything paused as he flipped the page and found himself face-to-page with Ernest Elm, evol: tracking. It was almost too perfect to be true. Victor picked up his phone and dialed the number, hand holding the phone shaking and the other tapping the desk while his knee bounced. Two, three, four times it rang before a voice came on the line. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Ernest Elm? This is Victor Li. I need your evol’s assistance.” 
~~~
An hour later, the redheaded and freckled Ernest stood in Victor’s office at LFG. He couldn’t have been older than twenty, with nervous eyes and twitchy hands. “Sit, sit,” Victor invited, gesturing to the chair where the girl usually parked herself. The young man did so, and Victor skipped the small talk. “Thank you for coming. Tell me about your evol. What do you need for it to work?”
“I, uh. Just need something that belongs to the person, and then I can see a thread that leads back to the owner. I usually just use it to return lost items, sir. I don’t know that it’s super helpful…” 
Victor rifled around in his desk and emerged with a small, well-loved shiba inu plushie. “If you don’t think it’s very helpful, Mr. Elm, then you have not spent enough time thinking of applications. You would be the most efficient search and rescue officer Loveland has ever seen. You could track down criminals, trafficked women and children, or missing persons. I would say that is a most noble evol.” He lifted his dark eyes and connected them to Ernest’s. “What are the limitations?” 
The young man seemed slightly taken aback by Victor’s statements. Could he really be that important? A smile settled onto his face and Ernest visibly relaxed. “I haven’t really found a distance limit, but the person does have to be alive. Sir, before we do this…would this person want to be found? I mean, I’m not helping you be a creepy stalker or anything, right?” 
“She would want to be found, yes. It’s possible that she might be in danger, so shall we get started?” Victor’s voice had regained its sharp edge and Ernest straightened in his seat. He accepted the doll with some amount of apprehension while Victor looked on with concentration. 
“Do you have a map? It would be easiest for me to tell you where she is if I have a map to draw you a path.”
Victor pulled a map of Loveland out of his desk drawer and scooted it over along with a pen. He folded his hands over his knee and swallowed the feelings of concern at the phrase ‘does have to be alive.’ But his dark eyes remained focused on Ernest’s face as the man held the toy and scrunched up his face. 
There was a long pause as tension hung heavy in the air before Ernest reached for the pen. He seemed to be following roads with one eye closed and the tip of the pen hovering over the map until it lingered over the industrial side of Loveland. The pen lowered until it kissed the map, leaving a small dot. “That’s the spot, sir.” 
Victor scooped up the map and examined the place where the marking lay. “Thank you. I must be going now. Goldman will give you your pay and escort you out.” Without further discourse, Victor disappeared down the hallway with his phone in one hand and map in the other. 
Speed limits were for people who didn’t have anywhere important to be. At least, that seemed to be Victor’s attitude as he flew down the side streets which led to the sketchier parts of Loveland. It was all but confirmed in his mind that she had been kidnapped at this point; there was no reason why she would have willingly ended up in the dilapidated industrial sector. 
The further out he went, the fewer cars he passed until he turned onto the final road and found himself completely alone. Whoever these people were, they had obviously gotten all of their training from bad films and crime novels. Victor pulled into the marked parking lot and stopped the car at the far end, not wanting to alert anyone inside to his presence earlier than was necessary. 
Victor slipped through the first strains of darkness to flatten himself against the wall of the building. So far he hadn’t seen or heard anyone, but that didn’t mean there weren’t eyes on him. Practically a wraith, he slipped around the outside until he found a door whose lock had been smashed. It opened easily and Victor entered without a sound. 
Unfortunately, the building was quite large and there was no telling where the girl was being kept. Victor listened carefully for any sound, but was only struck by the vast silence of the building’s hollow carapace. His keen eyes swirled as they scanned the floor for any sign of passage; however, it appeared he would not be so lucky. So he pushed forward into the depths of the building, the dim light providing only little guidance as he walked the halls. 
Door after door Victor paused outside and listened, pushing open those he could when he heard nothing behind them. Honestly, he’d expected to find guards by now, but obviously this was a small  or inexperienced bunch. How they’d managed to catch someone as capable as his dummy made no sense if they were that inept, but the ‘how’ could wait. 
When faced with the realization that he’d scoured the entire first floor, Victor paused at the stairwell. It went both up into higher floors and down beneath ground, and there still was no real sign which way he should check. He chose downstairs for multiple reasons; firstly, it was easier to drag an unwilling captive down than up. Secondly, underground would allow them to use lights without drawing attention to their abandoned abode. 
It seemed his reasoning was sound. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, a slight glow called from the far end of the hallway. Victor felt his heart rate increase as he knew he was on the correct path. Every cell in his body screamed for him to throw caution to the wind and race to the girl’s side, but thankfully the ones in charge of action still managed to maintain some semblance of order. 
At least enough order for him to only run to the end of the hallway as silently as he could manage and stop outside the door to listen. Two male voices conversed in hushed tones, low enough that Victor couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He pressed his ear against the door in an attempt to hear better, only to wish he hadn’t. 
“We should just finish the job. We’ve had our fun and at this point, she’s a liability. She’s seen our faces and we can’t let that go.” 
“I suppose you’re right. But I want to have a little more fun, first. Where’d that knife go?” 
A soft rustling accompanied a muffled groan and squeak of fear. The sound of skin slapping skin and a pained squeal brought the fury which had been building in Victor’s stomach into his extremities. He burst through the door, taking in the scene in one swoop. It wasn’t a large room; in fact, it barely held three chairs and a small table. The girl was tied to the chair in the center of the room, her head resting on her chest and blood splattered here and there on the floor. She looked up at the sudden noise and revealed a bloody gag tied around her mouth, the crimson stain originating just above her right eyebrow and flowing its way down to the dirty cloth. 
Her eyes were dull and cloudy as her mind seemed to struggle to understand what she was seeing. However, it really only took a few moments for it to register that Victor had arrived, savior of the day. Tears welled up in those eyes and she seemed to be reaching for him with as much vigor as she could manage while being actually unable to move. 
Victor didn’t have time to release her, however, before her pair of captors were upon him. One held a knife while the other leveled a revolver at Victor’s head. Victor wasted no time in flinging a round-house kick at the gunman’s hand, sending the gun flying. The disarmed man was stunned by the sudden movement and froze, making it easy to strike him directly in the face. He crumpled like wet tissue paper and Victor turned to the other man, a larger specimen with a decidedly more frightening demeanor. 
“Where the hell did you come from?!” the kidnapper growled, circling Victor. “And who are you? How did you find this place?” 
“So many questions,” Victor retorted, his lip curled up slightly. “Who I am is none of your business. Neither is how I found you. But I will always find her, no matter where she is. She is mine and you would do well to put down your weapon before I have to take it away.” 
The man chuckled and lunged, knife aimed for Victor’s stomach. Victor nimbly stepped out of the way and elbowed the man in the back as he went by, causing him to stumble. However, the kidnapper recovered quickly and lunged again, this time grazing Victor’s hand as Victor grabbed for the man’s wrist. 
Victor didn’t so much as flinch at his wound. He simply wrapped his long fingers around the captor’s arm and flung him to the ground, smashing the man’s face into the concrete floor. There was a sickening crunch as the man’s nose broke on impact and a pool of blood began to immediately form beneath him. Victor was just about to turn back to the girl and untie her when she let out a muffled scream, which caused him to spin around and kick the first man again just as he began to reach for the gun. The man howled in agony as Victor’s sharp shoe connected solidly with his ribs and knocked the wind out of him. 
It seemed for a moment that both of his opponents were down, at least long enough for Victor to grab the abandoned knife and cut the girl free. He removed the gag first, followed quickly by her hands and then her feet. Tears streamed down her face despite her best efforts to keep them contained and she collapsed into Victor’s arms. “Can you walk?” he asked, holding her tightly against his chest. 
“I…I think so,” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. 
“Then I want you to run outside. The authorities shouldn’t be too far behind me, if Goldman did as he was instructed. Which he always has. I’ll keep these two busy while you make your escape.” 
The girl opened her mouth to argue, but Victor instead covered it with his own. By the time he pulled away from the kiss, the girl was feeling even dizzier than her wounds had caused. “Go. I will be perfectly fine. These two idiots are obviously no more than I can handle.” He pushed her toward the door and despite her intense desire to stay by his side, she gave Victor one last look and darted out of the room as fast as she could. 
Each time one of the captors would attempt to get up from the floor, Victor would mercilessly return them to their position. Every ounce of fear and anger was channeled directly into ensuring that neither of the men escaped before the police arrived to take them away. His hand still bled freely but he paid it no mind, seemingly not even realizing he’d been injured. 
Probably fifteen minutes passed before the thunder of police boots could be heard on the stairs. Victor exited the room and waved them down, pointing into the room. “The kidnappers are in here. I managed to subdue them for the time being, but there’s a loose gun.” 
The police pushed right past Victor and handcuffed the kidnappers, hauling them away before also cuffing Victor. He didn’t protest; it was just standard procedure, after all. They had no way to know what the truth of the situation was until they had time to interview all parties. 
Full darkness had fallen by the time Victor emerged with the police. The girl was being attended to by ambulance staff, but no amount of shouting could convince her to stay put when she saw Victor’s face. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. “I can’t believe you found me,” she sobbed, her tears staining the collar of his shirt red. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have run off like that! I thought for sure I was going to die alone and that you’d blame yourself for me making one bad decision!” 
Victor chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. “I will always find you, dummy. Even if I have to do it ten thousand times, I will always find you.”
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lakeofsilverpike · 7 months
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Fear - Rae325 - The Wheel of Time (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
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aydann-runs · 4 months
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Alex pushes past Guerin without answering his concerned, “You okay?”  He does let his hand rest on Guerin’s shoulder a second longer than strictly necessary in an unspoken thank you.  Liz follows after him as he passes through the faerie light arch, and he quickens his pace, breaking into a jog as soon as he's out of sight of the crowd.  He loves Liz, she's one of his best friends, but he can't deal with her tonight.
Alex ducks into the alley behind the UFO Emporium and sinks down onto the stack of crates someone had placed by the service door as a makeshift seat.  Up the block, he hears Liz calling his name, and then after a moment, silence.  She must have given up looking for him.  He should be happy about that–it’s what he'd wanted–but instead, he's just depressed.
Alex resists the urge to scream, or cry, or punch the brick wall at his back.  None of those things would make him feel any better, so he doesn't see the point.  If he's being honest with himself, prom actually went better than he expected.  Kyle had waited to be an asshole until later in the evening, so Alex had been there to see the committee crown the Prom King and Queen.  He’d taken great joy in seeing Kyle lose out to the captain of the baseball team.
He'd gotten to dance with Liz, gorgeous in the red dress that could only have been Rosa’s idea.
And he was sure he’d seen Michael Guerin smile at him from across the room.
Alex had been working himself up to go over to where Guerin was standing with Max Evans to say hello–it wouldn’t be gay if he was talking to both of them–when Kyle’d gotten in his face and the night went to shit.
Gingerly, Alex rubs his jaw where Kyle had punched him.  He can already tell it's going to bruise.  With a sigh, he pushes off the stack of crates and heads to the end of the alley.  When a quick glance confirms he’s alone, he turns onto Main Street and heads towards the drugstore so he can pick up an ice pack and some more concealer.
The last thing he wants to do is to explain to his dad why he’d gotten into a fight with Kyle Valenti at Prom.
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i-prefer-west-side · 1 year
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https://at.tumblr.com/lovelustquotes/127790595100/d4ne3m2oempd prompt
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ACROSS THE UNIVERSE SEASON 3/4 AU (POST-SHOOTING)
Rick sighs and shuts the book he’s barely reading, throws it next to him on the couch. He’d picked up the book of poetry on a whim; he prefers prose and complete sentences, but he knows that Kate reads it on occasion, and he’d been drawn to this book, felt Kate’s presence in every page.
But this one...this one hits hard.
She’s been gone for six weeks now, completely radio silent, shutting herself off even from Lanie, Ryan, and Espo after she’d ungracefully dismissed him from the hospital. He’s been undeterred, though, investigating her shooting even after the new captain kicked him out, finishing his book in record time.
He runs frustrated fingers through his hair and stands, paces the familiar route through his living room as he tries to purge her from his mind.
It’s pointless.
Before he can stop himself, he retrieves the book, flips open to the last page he read, and snaps a picture of the five sentences that froze him in his tracks.
Another moment of indecision, and he pulls up their message thread, ignores the lack of responses from her - he hasn’t tried in five weeks, when it becomes apparent that she wasn’t going to answer - attaches the picture, and hits send.
Maybe she’ll reply, maybe she won’t.
He’s just about to lose hope when the dots appear, and his heart soars when four words appear.
Can I call you?
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mortuscunningham · 6 months
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Day 3: Medicine
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jomiddlemarch · 1 year
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through the whisky mists
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12. “I shouldn’t have waited so long,” Helen said, her back against the brass headboard, hands folded tightly in her lap, as if she had to keep from wringing them.
“Waited for what?” James asked. 
“For this. To marry you, to be together. I shouldn’t have gotten engaged to Hugh, I should’ve said something that night at the Chapmans and after I jilted him— we should have had so much more time like this.”
“It wouldn’t be like this if we’d rushed,” he said. “You would’ve had doubts, I know that. It wasn’t a waste, loving you. It never will be.”
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thegremlingirl · 7 months
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Down On Your Luck (A Modern Little Thieves AU) Chapter 4
In which… our leads celebrate Halloween.
Read Chapter IV - The Masks We Wear: here
First Chapter and Summary Link: here
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fanfic-phoenix · 1 year
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Obitine Week 2022, Day 1 - Secrets
Rating: General
Word Count: 161
Read on AO3
“I know you can’t stay long,” she murmured, “but pretend for a moment that you can.”
Satine smiled, slightly.  Obi-Wan, hair tousled and chest flushed, smiled back.  Neither of them moved.
“One day,” he said, “I’ll be able to stay ‘til morning.”
She hummed, ignoring the lie.  They both knew he’d be missed long before that, and they both knew that they’d never run the risk of discovery.  Their safety - her safety, she admitted, her gut twisting - depended upon their secrecy.
It was bad enough that Anakin knew - or at least suspected.
“He won’t tell,” Obi-Wan promised, apparently sensing the turn of her thoughts.
“I know,” she sighed.  “But he’s such a dreadful liar…”
“Who would think to ask?”  He shuffled closer, close enough to run a comforting hand down her back.  “Apart from the Council - who don’t care, so long as it isn’t attachment - who suspects?”
Satine sighed, pressing herself closer, burying her face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck.  “I know you can’t stay long,” she murmured, “but pretend for a moment that you can.”
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r1ver-6 · 1 year
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We’ve mourned WIPs never to be finished, we’ve kudos-ed shower fic that will never see the light of day, now I ask a moment of silence for the fics started in dreams that slip away as soon as you wake
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violet-catsarelife · 3 months
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Leather jackets are cool okay 🥺
also Dick has unknowingly opened the door to little birds stealing his clothes from him lol. It's a love language 😌
Inspired by ↓↓
that time Discowing wore a leather jacket:
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and this precious panel of baby Jay:
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