#and I'm left with nothing but a gaping hole in my chest. aching for arms to fall into and a shoulder to cry on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stesierra · 9 months

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Find the Word tag game!

@mjparkerwriting tagged me. My words are tickle, crouch, heart, and belong!

I'm drawing from the Halfway Revenant! I'll tag @dyrewrites and @aziz-reads . Your words are wife, murder and hunt.

Tickle

Slowly, she turned and trudged south along the bank, leaving the townsfolk to gather up their abandoned fish and baskets. At least she had food for now. And a crossbow, although she barely knew how to use it.

“Areh revenant,” a high-pitched voice called after she’d gone a dozen yards. “Wait!”

Mindral spun back around, so abruptly that Pitra leaped off with a squawk and a flap of her wings.

The boy chasing her skidded to a halt. He came inches from slamming face-first into her chest. When he cartwheeled his arms, he fell over backwards and landed on his bottom at her feet. Pitra swooped down and landed on his chest with a chirp.

“Pitra,” Mindral said quickly. “We don’t bite or scratch children.” Because this dark-skinned boy couldn’t be older than thirteen. His bird-like limbs stuck out of threadbare trousers too short for him, and he’d worn holes in the knees.

Pitra leaned in and sniffed the wide-eyed child. Then she bared her teeth and growled.

“Pitra!” Mindral leaned forward and snatched the omicat off the boy. Pitra squirmed sullenly in her grasp. “I’m sorry about that. She doesn’t like anyone who’s not me.”

For a moment, the boy gaped up at her, silent. Then he said, “Are you drunk? Do godkins like getting sloshed? How does that work? Isn’t that body dead?”

Mindral plopped Pitra onto her shoulder and pulled her liquor-soaked frock away from her chest with a finger. “If I were dead, I’d stink of worse things than alcohol. No, I’m not sloshed, and I’m not a revenant.”

The lad flinched when she spoke, but he didn’t leap up and run. “That sounds like something a drunk godkin would say.”

“Would you like to take my pulse? I can prove I’m not dead.” She stretched out her arm, without much hope he would take her up on the offer.

But the boy scrambled to his feet and reached out to take her hand. His callused palm tickled her wrist. “You’re still fresh! Not like rotten meat at all.”

Mindral stood as still as possible, a lump forming in her throat. This was the first person who had voluntarily touched her since the Cherefs had ruined her life. And he didn’t even look that frightened. “No, not like rotten meat. That’s because I’m a live woman. Just a little soaked in alcohol.”

Pitra growled at the boy, flattening her ears against her skull, and hunched down on Mindral’s shoulder. The boy’s gaze darted up towards the omicat, and he asked, “What’s that thing? It looks like my mother’s tabby, but it’s tiny. And are those wings?”

Mindral grinned at him. “They are. Pitra is an omicat. They’re native to Delshet Canyon, in the north. I don’t suppose you see them this far south. They only like to live in places with many cliffs.”

The boy’s mouth dropped open. “A flying cat? That’s awesome! Do all revenants have pet omicats?”

He was still holding onto her, and Mindral slid her hand down to take his. “No, see, I’m really not a revenant. This symbol in my forehead was carved when I was still alive, and it was carved wrong.”

The boy looked skeptical, but he didn’t pull away. “I heard you want to go to Nahiroun. I can help you.”

“Why would you want to help me if you think I’m a godkin?” She squeezed his hand gently. “Didn’t your parents tell you not to make deals with unclean spirits?”

Crouch (PITRA'S NOT ACTUALLY DEAD)

Her house appeared ahead. She shuffled towards it, her back aching from being hauled across the city like luggage. And slammed to a halt. The door she’d left locked stood ajar.

Slowly, she inched up to the door, tilted her head to listen for intruders. Nothing. Even the whir of her enchanted fan was silenced. She nudged the door the rest of the way open and stepped in. The smell of ashes stung her nose.

Beneath her feet, something hard crunched, and something soft squished. The shards of the bowl she’d left behind that morning, intermixed with pickled pork and eggs.

The Nimina lights flickered on. Whoever had intruded was long gone. They’d taken Mindral’s enchanted fan with them, leaving the room hot and stifling. The empty shelves of her bookcase mocked her. She didn’t think any documents had been stolen. No, the intruder had dumped her precious books and paper on the floor and cast a lit lamp down on them. The blackened remains spread like a puddle of ash across her floor. Smoke had darkened her ceiling and writing table.

Black footsteps led her around the room. The arsonist had overturned her dining table, flinging bronze knives and spoons everywhere. Her spice kit they had ripped open and shattered. Shards of glass and precious seasonings mixed with the ashes of her life.

Mindral stumbled towards her bedroom. There, in the doorway, she fell to her knees before the shattered remains of her glider. She picked up a chunk of copper and a scrap of sailcloth, which was stained with ash, and tears flowed down her cheeks, impossible to stop. First the Cherefs had killed Pitra, who’d been the only one to ever fly with Mindral, and now they’d taken Mindral’s wings. Because who else could be responsible for all of this? Who else would want to destroy her so completely?

She tried to fit the scraps of the glider back together, but it was hopeless. The enchantment was broken, the magic fled. Even if she mended all the pieces, it wouldn’t carry her again. She swiped the tears from her face and stumbled into the bedroom. More ashes mocked her: her bed, her clothing trunk, all cinders. She crouched and dug through the blackened ruins, looking for anything that had survived. Through her tears, she spotted a key, the one that opened the Thideet family home in Nahiroun. Beside it lay an intact metal water canteen. From underneath the remains of the trunk, she dug out her mound of gold. Gold was worth nothing in Shaneh. The arsonist hadn’t even bothered to take it.

She had nowhere to put anything. Payar Cheref had her backpack. She tucked the key in a pocket, laid the canteen on her lap, and put her hand on the sooty gold. Tears trickled down her face, thick and hot, and they got in her mouth. They tasted like salt and bitter despair. Her life was destroyed. She had nothing left. Not even Pitra.

Heart

Maybe Mindral fainted as they carried her towards the hoists. She felt as though she didn’t exist, as though no time passed as she slumped like the dead in two mens’ grasp. But the temple was miles north and down to the tenth level. The people of Shaneh walked everywhere, and so had amazing endurance, but it was still a long way to carry a boneless woman. Hours must have passed, but she experienced time only in short bursts. A whisper of voices here, a tug at her arms there. For the brief moment time sped back up, she mourned Pitra, who had died trying to save her from her own stupidity. Why had she confronted the Cherefs? How could she have thought they couldn’t do worse than ruin her name?

Finally, the men stopped. The change was enough to wake her a little. Not enough to move or speed her sluggish heart and faint breath, but enough to hear again. A tenor voice said, “The gods’ kind eyes look down on us all. What happened here?”

Whoever was holding Mindral’s armpits hoisted her higher. “She killed herself, Your Sanctanimity. Couldn’t stand being known for what she was.”

“Oh, yes, I heard about that. Terrible. Well, the morgue is over there. They’ll inspect the body—”

“No,” the man holding her feet snapped. “The Cherefs are handling the arrangements, since her family disowned her. They want to see it done right away. Funeral rites on the spot.”

“But they’ll need a coffin—”

“No one pays for coffins for pauper’s funerals. And no one’s paying for hers. Get your chisel out and do the ceremony.”

Mindral tried to kick in their grasp. Her limbs didn’t even twitch. This was insanity. This was pure evil. A priest’s chisel had one job—to carve the unbinding symbol and free the soul from its body. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want her living body left behind for a godkin to use. She didn’t want it to become a revenant that roamed and tormented the living. Couldn’t anyone see that she still breathed?

“I’m just a lesser priest!” the tenor voice exclaimed. “The full priests and high priest aren’t here to perform the services. I’ve never done it on my own before.”

“Then this will be your first time, Your Sanctanimity. Do you want to disappoint the Cherefs?”

“No! No, I’m not saying that. Look, carry her over here and lay her on the altar.”

Belong

"Fine," she said. "If you insist, I'll do it. But the shops that sell what we need are probably all within the central district. So I need your help with something." She turned to Jimine and said, "About makeup. The members of the key families often wear some, just a bit around the eyes and on the mouth. Where do you get it? Not the same place where ordinary prostitutes get theirs, I presume."

Jimine covered her rouged mouth. "Oh, no, certainly not. There are chemists in the central district who formulate makeup of the finest pigments and minerals."

"Do they make paints?"

The courtesan gestured to her face. "Well, you see mine. It's made with a mix of oil and beeswax. Very sweat-resistant."

Jimine's gray makeup did look far finer than anything Mindral had ever worn, with almost the sheen of clean skin. She said, "That's not what I'm looking for, though. I want something skin-colored." She pointed at her dark olive arm. "Specifically, the color of this skin."

"Ah," Nilower said softly. "You hope to find a disguise that does not exile you from the central district."

"That's right," Mindral said. "So I can get those ingredients. And you said part of the reason you wanted me on your side was that I was an expert researcher. Well, all the books and scrolls that I might research are inside the Nimina palace, and you'll never smuggle me in to look at them dressed like this."

He rubbed his chin and regarded her thoughtfully. "True, but if you shed your false identity as a prostitute, you will become recognizable as Mindral Thideet again. She is widely known to be dead. Is that what you want?"

Mindral firmed her jaw and glared at him. "No, but there's an easy way around that. I'll just wear a face-veil and pretend to be modest. I defy anyone who's not a Thideet to recognize me from just my eyes and makeup-covered forehead."

Jimine said, "Oh, don't be such a pessimist, Nilower. With some proper eye shadow and a little eyebrow plucking, even her eyes will look like they belong to someone else."

Tag list for everything

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@savvy-minnow

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@fishythewriter

@koala2all

The Halfway Revenant

@acertainmoshke

#The Halfway Revenant #tag games

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levmada · 2 years

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Now, Speak! [Levi]

summary: Levi has been neglected recently. As his owner, you teach him to tell you what he needs—and to tell you how good it feels when you give it to him.

wc: 3.7k

content/warnings: creampie (f!receiving), A/B/O dynamics, Levi has been neglected :(, hybrid-fucking(neko), armpit kink/licking, multiple orgasms (m!receiving), crying, restraint use, completely self indulgent, mommy kink, anal play (m!receiving), pegging kitty Levi, edging (m!receiving), praising Levi and making him beg

as always, mdni/mdnf and if you have nothing nice to say, block me or be quiet.

a/n: it's valentines day. i felt like loving on levi, okay—kitty levi at that😵‍💫. this one is very kinky, so read the warnings and proceed at your own discretion! a/b/o dynamics aren't explicitly defined, btw! GOD i am so proud of that header.

and this was actually a request from a very long time ago that i'm just now posting under a special event! I linked the ask to this post, but i hope you see, anon, and enjoy regardless of my negligence😁

Your kitty is so, so needy.

Levi has a natural proclivity towards short comments and requests, and so far in-between; he can never quite bring himself to voice just what he’s needing from you. Today, your work needed you to stay, resulting in long hours of overtime.

He was left so lonely.

“Honey, use your words. What do you need?"

Levi shudders hard in your arms, a pathetic quake of a whine leaving his throat. Plush lips, swelled from just how long he’s been at it, leave sloppy kisses up and down your throat.

You smile knowingly—it’s obvious—and bury your hand in his hair, fluffed from showering. With your other, you squeeze the base of his tail. He moans when you stroke it, his body curling further with yours.

He missed you. Against the fat of your thigh, Levi ruts just cock, grinding for a little relief.

“Kitty. Speak.”

Your palms smooth over soft muscles, working circles around his pink nipples. A sheered gasp puffs against your throat, dissolving into a shiver as you work them into pinched, pretty peaks.

Levi’s heavy cock, slippery with precum, twitches, bowing against your pelvis. He whines again, muffled against your throat in desperate attempts to hide how much he’s enjoying it. You’d indulged him by dressing down to your panties and a loose tee, but your patience is running thin.

Tutting, your hand falls on Levi’s shoulder. You give him a shove, and he goes sprawling, flat on his back on top of the neat sheets. Instinctively, his legs spread apart, and warmth licks in your bottom half at the sight of him: pale, soft-looking muscles and thick cock standing to attention between his legs. He looks only mildly debauched, for now.

His lips part to gape at you with abandon, ears flat on his head with betrayal. “Wait. Why’d you stop?”

“Who said I was?”

You climb on top and tug your panties to the side so his expression knits with bliss as you slip his cock between your folds. Silky and soft, already plenty-wet. His hips jump on their own, not even thrusting, but rutting through your heat.

“Fuck–”

You swallow a sigh. “None of that. Be a good boy,” you advise, a tone of smooth silk that leaves Levi knuckling the sheets and pulling them taut. The submissiveness in his gaze makes you throb.

“But,” he begins to protest, silenced as you slide into his lap, leaving his cock neglected. He seals his lips, aware he’s digging himself a hole, and ignores the ache; no matter how sweet it’d feel to rub his thighs together and make it go away.

You hate to punish him like this, which is why you use the softer ropes to bind his wrists. His hands curl into soft fists at the squeeze, contrasting sharply against the bold color of the knots. These, you loop securely right above his head as not to strain his arms.

He’s trapped now, at your mercy, in your care; his chest jumps with his breaths. The entire upper half of his body is left open and exposed for you to do what you like with him. Under your watchful eye, he tests the restraints, fingers floundering for yours once you’ve pulled away.

“Are they too tight?” You plant your palm between his pecs, soothing his heated skin.

“No, Mommy,” he mumbles, soft. The whine distinct in his voice betrays his easy submission—he needs you.

You hum. Making your palm into a C-shape, you slide your hand up just shy of his throat, knocking over his sharp collarbones. Levi cants his head a little as his brows furrow, wondering, hoping, if you’ll wrap your hand around his throat, your other will stroke his cock.

“Levi,” you hum, bringing him back from his head. His eyes open into slits, then widen as your hands slip away.

You force his thighs further apart instead, exposing his leaky cock and balls. Your finger slips up the heavy underside, following a bulging vein. “Look at you. So pretty, sweetie. You could get it sucked if only you’d be good for me—why don’t you beg?”

He tugs fruitlessly at the ropes, squirming. Only a touch of heat singes his cock; craving more.

“I’ll be good,” he insists, and you make a loose fist. You give him a few full, loose pumps, encouraging him to go on, “I’ll be good, I’m a good boy. I want to knot you—p-pl–”

Your brow arches as his voice dies away. That’s a start. “Oh? How do I know you mean it?"

Levi hisses when your touch leaves his cock. It twitches before your eyes as you soak your fingers in lube, and he remembers himself.

"I do,” he growls. "I mean it."

"Prove it. Tell me how good it feels," you hum, caressing Levi’s thigh and gently prodding his cheeks apart to worry your slippery finger into his hole. Your antics the day before has left him loose enough to start with two.

His head flops back at the intrusion, a soundless cry leaving when your fingertips trace his hole. You hum at the tightness, and press a kiss to the shallow of his hipbone. His walls squeeze around your fingers like a hug, but he relaxes.

He mutters, “s’good. C-Curl–” your fingers curl deep inside him, “yeah, fuck.”

With a third moving in deep, even thrusts, he starts to tremble. You’re only teasing him, carefully stroking around that sensitive bundle inside. He’s practically vibrating, but doesn’t move; he takes it like a good boy. When you praise him, he moans softly into the cleft of his bicep where his face is hidden.

The push and pull of your fingers fucks him slowly, like you’re enticing the sounds out of him by inches. He needs to be fucked faster; wants you to rip his orgasm right out of him. His cock bobs gently against his pelvis, a mess pooling below his navel.

Your long caresses take you from the thick muscle of his thigh to the length of his tail, and watch with reverence as Levi’s features contort with pleasure. His back arches into a sloppy arc, followed by the loudest moan you've heard from him tonight, coming from deep in his chest. Dark fur bristles and automatically winds itself around your arm—Levi wants you anywhere he can reach you.

"That's it,” you praise, and fuck him faster, “let me hear you. That’s a good boy.”

Small moans, one after the other, rise high in his throat. Pleased, you bury your fingers deep inside him, sure to slip over that bump, curling and swirling your fingers all around it. You cup his rose-red cockhead, and his head falls back with a shout, like it was wrenched from his throat.

“‘m close–!”

You watch him squirm as you sweep over the special spot buried in his ass, and glide your free fingers across Levi’s swollen cockhead, where it’s ridged. More creamy cum wells up, and cascades down his girth when you dip your finger in the slit.

“I can see that, honey.”

Still, he has no permission to cum, or knot you for that matter. It’s a shame to watch his expression drop as you wriggle your fingers out, his fists squeezing white around the ropes.

Levi’s lips worry together as he watches you, clenching around the new emptiness you left behind, and licks his lips. He can smell you, a little, sweet and heady from how wet you are.

You exchange your fingers in Levi’s ass for a girthy dildo. With a small, purposeful smile—knowing where his eyes are—you glide your hand down the side; it’s realistic, with ridges and fake veins that he’ll undoubtedly feel when you fuck him with it.

He glimpses the fat cockhead and sucks a gasp through his teeth. For more room he lifts his back and bends his knees, stretching his thighs apart in further attempts to please you.

“Kiss,” he mutters, impatiently watching your fingers, shiny with lube, take your time getting it ready. “Gimme kiss.”

“A kiss?” You arch one brow, pride with him singing in your chest, and kiss the shallow of his open thighs. “Is that what you want?”

He glares at first, then puffs his lips. His shoulderblades strain to lift himself up. The sight is adorable, so you indulge him by climbing up his body, braced with one hand, and kiss his lips.

That’s better. Your hand mussing his ears doesn’t hurt either, and by the time you slot yourself between his thighs again, he rolls his hips in anticipation.

“So eager,” you purr, and press the cockhead into his winking hole.

With the new intrusion his chest lifts, his blush growing deep red and stretching to the tips of his ears.

The fat cock fills him up with hardly any resistance. He moans like the sounds are being gently pulled from him with a fishing line, one of these fading into a whimper once the balls of the fake cock meet his ass. He clenches around it, feeling it spread him apart, and reels when you shallowly begin to thrust, testing his reaction.

He can’t even think to close his mouth, so there’s a small trail of drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes are pinched shut.

Little does he know—you doubt Levi has even half the mind to think—this isn’t a reward.

You’re proven right as you pluck something else from the nightstand. Where Levi was just pivoting his hips, urging for you to move the faux-cock stuffed inside him, he cuts himself off with a stifled cry at the sweet heat of your hand playing at his cock, gingerly stroking up and down.

“Fuck,” he hisses, to the lewd, wet smacks of himself getting fucked, then your hand cupping his cockhead. His hips rut up all on their own, eyes pleading with permission. There's a fire to your eyes when you pretend to think about it, then finally nod.

Sweltering heat sweeps through his cock when he's finally allowed to thrust into your shallow grip. He's burning up too much to remember it's humiliating, not while you're earnestly fucking him, too. It's too much, your hand on his cock, and at the same time sinking back onto the toy with each jerking thrusts. He feels pleasure winding him up everywhere, all over.

You allow Levi to fuck your shallow grip for a moment, then take it all away with the feeling of a ring sliding down his fat girth. His eyes fly open with surprise; already it's too tight, squeezing the base of his dick.

“Wait!” he whines, suddenly going very still in his restraints. “Mommy, please, I can’t, need t’–”

“I know, Lev'.” Your hand briefly roams over his trembling tummy. “Mommy will take care of you, jus' let me hear your pretty noises,” you murmur, soothing. Levi’s fists clench a little above his head, but he doesn't complain.

It’s difficult to smother your shiver at the sound of Levi purring—or trying to, to soothe himself—deep in his throat. You’re sure not to take your touch away for a moment as you move up his body, taking a second, smaller vibrator with you. A whimper sounds over the little rumbles.

Underneath your palm, his muscles pull firm and taut, skin warm like an oven.

“Look at how pretty you are, kitty,” you sigh, and glide your fingertip around the deep red swell of his nipple. “What am I gonna do with you?”

He shudders, eyes glossy and half-lidded, but stubbornly focuses on you. Your nipples peak through the sheer fabric of your top, and he itches to soak them with his tongue. Not only can he smell you either, but feels your sweetness, wet and soaked through your ruined panties; if only he could lick up the mess, but the plead dies on his tongue. He knows he's being punished. "Th–Thank you."

"That's my good boy."

It’s when you bow your head and take his hard nipple in your mouth does he gasp, which morphs into a cry as the vibrations of the dildo begin.

You keep one eye on your phone screen, steadily building the strength of the vibrations he feels buried inside as your tongue glides around his nipple, nibbling, then sucking it into your mouth. He squirms aimlessly, confused by how sweetly the pain bites.

You swallow the groan building in your throat, and roll your hips into the tense muscles of his belly. It relieves a little of the ache, but not nearly enough. All you've done so far is watch, not that you mind. Levi is gorgeous like this.

You let the vibrations waver about midway, enough for his searing climax to build, enough for him to feel the pulsing pressure in his balls—but giving him no relief whatsoever.

You switch on the toy in your hand.

“Fuck,” you sigh, rolling your hips into the fat head of the humming vibrator. You let it buzz over your clit, and throw your head back, moaning sweetly.

It’s good. More than that, there’s a sick twist of satisfaction to the tearful way he watches you pleasure yourself without him; he’s the one who’s supposed to please you, make you feel good.

He fights the restraints harder. With each harsh tug, the rope knotted around his wrists pull, but don't give. While his hands are barred from you, you’re being pushed further towards your end.

His mouth drops open, gasping in the stench of your sweetness. “Please,” he begs, “Let me—’m sorry, mommy, let me touch you, please–”

More of your cum slips between your folds, he can feel it smearing his belly. Your free hand roams all over his packed chest, shuddering with the way his muscles lock up and shudder.

“Are you my good boy, baby?”

“Yes, I’ll be good, so good."

That's what you want to hear. You ease your straddle over his body, trapping his swelled cockhead beneath the vibrations while you roll your hips in tandem.

His reaction is immediate. An earnest cry rings in his throat, his back arching between both sides of the buzzing. Small moans that sound like they're at the top of his throat, caught and high, echo in your buzzing mind.

“Yeah?”

Levi’s brows pinch together, his release so close, but—nothing. He remembers the ring choking his cock, and chokes on a sob. He ruts his hips, tossing his head back and forth, forces the vibrations deeper—but he's stuck.

God, you’re close, watching his expression scrunch, searching for a release. Beneath you, warm, firm muscles ripple and tense.

You sigh and brush the vibrations through your folds, allowing a little leeway for you to glide your soft palm across his heaving pecs. His nipples are so used and red; bruised purple from your mouth.

He looks so good. Your tongue glides from the swell of his chest to the shallow his underarm, kissing and lapping along the way. Levi's salty, clean musk sweeps across your tongue, and you hum. With his arms pinned back over his head, he can do nothing but shudder, heat from your tongue licking the fire below his waist.

“Levi, honey,” you sigh, between your kisses, "I'm so close," but you give him nothing else as more of your slick spills over his cockhead, pooling at the dip in his waist.

Maybe it’s the sadist in you that ignores his complaints as the vibrations thrumming inside him wind down. His voice comes airy and slurred: “Turn it on again, please. Won' be bad anymore—I'm so...”

You're knocked right over the edge. It’s with a smothered, shuddering moan that you brace yourself over his chest and tremble, clenching around absolutely nothing.

Beneath you, he watches you slack-jawed, sweat sticky in his bangs. It's all he can do. His neglected cock thrums painfully, neglected; the ring is too tight to allow even a few beads of his cum to spill.

He surrenders with a pathetic whine. His ears flatten into his messed hair, and his hands curl into tight fists above his head, turning them white. Helpless tears crowd at his lashes, and he thinks he might just fall right off the face of the earth if he can’t get his hands on you—please, now?

He pleads and spreads his thighs wider, forced purrs growing in his throat when he thinks you may leave him like this. Your heart softens at the sight.

With your vibrator set aside, back in-between his legs, you tell him how good he was for you with a reassuring hand stroking a long line up and down his trembling thigh. "Look at you, my poor, sweet baby."

“Please. Lemme come.”

His tail reflexively curls, nudging your waist with your promise that, Mommy will take care of you.

You start up the vibrations plugged inside him again, flattening your tongue and licking a long line up the center of his armpit.

Levi’s chest heaves. His cheeks heat, mortified, hips eagerly bowing against the mattress for the rubber cock. His own, thick and swelled a fine red, twitches against his pelvis with every swift thrust inside. He feels so full.

When you glide over that special bundle inside him, his back arches uselessly, muscles harshly flexing. A small, pulsing excuse for a climax ripples through him, not enough. A small mess the ring couldn’t catch dribbles down and pools there, oozing below the sharp V of his waist.

“Fuck,” you hiss, and feel your cunt flutter around nothing. He looks so pretty like this, jaw unhinged, letting loose cut moans. “Poor slut. Really gonna cum like this?”

The ropes pull again. Levi’s voice is all but reduced to a hoarse croak, breaths straining and desperate. You give his thick balls a squeeze. “C-Can’t–”

“You’re my boy. Of course you can.”

You work the cock's ridges past his used hole in deep, firm strokes, angling it to glide back and forth over that spot. His cock visibly strains, heavy and flush, but goes untouched.

Tears spill down Levi's cheeks as the pressure reaches its white-hot peak, this one catching even himself by surprise. It washes over him in pathetic waves, wrenching an agonized moan from deep in his chest. You massage and squeeze his balls through the tremors; just a few drops of cum well over his slit.

"So pent up," you hum, flicking the messy slit, heavily coating his girth. He jerks, mewling under a tumultuous sea of aimless pleasure. Just beneath where the ring chokes his swelled cock, a knot has swelled.

“Le’ me fuck you,” he gulps, his eyes glazed and almost wild. His lips are visibly chapped, and his tongue sweeps over them, leaving them almost shiny. “Need t’, ah–”

Calmly, you smooth your palm over the heat and cum that’s collected between your thighs, and free Levi’s cock of the tight ring. Immediately it twitches, on the brink, but you worm the dildo out of his ass, once again forcing his real climax to ripple away. His chest shudders with shameless sobs.

You mount his hips. You can't imagine how close he is, driven right to the edge and reduced to whimpers after two half-hearted orgasms. To reassure him, you smooth his bangs out of his face and cradle his hip.

“You need it? Take it.”

Burying Levi's slippery cockhead between your lips, you lean over and lap a few tears off his face, making him gasp. His moan is soundless, choked by a cry as your silky walls finally suck in his cock. With a lurch, you feel him already throbbing. He arches where you hover over him, leaving no space between your bodies, and practically humps your cunt, brow screwed up and mouth gaping.

“Fuck, Levi–”

You gasp, hitched and breathless as Levi’s fat knot finally pushes past your rigid entrance and into your heat, stretching you wider with a sweet sting. There’s no way you could mistake his release. His entire body goes stiff like a board, brow lifting and jaw dropping with a debauched, long moan. All of his muscles draw up tight, fluffed ears pressed down against his hair.

He's still trying to fuck you, his heavy balls smacking against your cunt with every plunge. All you can do while he floods your cunt with his cum is claw at his chest and take him.

The hot, swimming waves of his climax seem to lasts forever. A dark blush paints Levi’s cheeks, with his entire upper half picking up a tremor, the overwhelming strength of his release. He can hardly push any deeper despite how your walls shudder around his buried cock. He babbles, telling you how you feel so good, so tight, "–gonna cum again, can I–?"

“Yes. Good boy.” Heat twists your lower half. He’s already filled you up, but his pace is eager, quickly inviting you towards your own end with each pull.

He's overwhelmed by the compulsion to shoot more of his load, until not even his knot can hold it all. “Mommy, fuck–” Levi’s wrists are bloomed bright red with how he struggles, “–thank you, th-thank you, s’ hot—”

You gasp, swallowing back moans as you begin to gush around him. It can’t even spill past his knot, he plugs you up so tight. Rendered dumb, moans and whines spill past his lips, aimless, high, satisfied. More thick cum spills inside you, and he's left outright shaking like a leaf through the aftershocks.

By the time he’s finally weary and still, having shot three loads inside you, his head is buzzing. It's a challenge just to keep his eyes open anymore, not to drift to sleep. Your cunt is full, his knot plugging most of his loads inside.

Weary, you kiss his face and praise him, even if he's half-asleep. Above, you unwind the restraints, mindful of his heavy arms, which you lay beside his body; where red, angry marks form a ring around his wrists, you press small kisses.

"Oh, Levi. Did so good," you murmur, smoothing your palms over his chest and tummy. His skin is warm like an oven, damp with sweat where you caress him. You know he feels it, because his eyes flutter and his ears sluggishly twitch to attention wherever your touch goes.

“That’s my good boy,” you breathe. “Good fucking boy.”

| levi masterlist | main masterlist | Valentines Day 2022

#tw dacryphilia #cw hybrids #levi ackerman #g.scribe #aot levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman x you #subby levi #kitty levi #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #requested

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beewithknee · 2 years

Text

cries of the dying

IMPERIUM SPOILERS BELOW

y'know how david died in asher's arms? yeah. this is my take off that

t.w - blood, death, angst, no happy ending

Oh god. How did it happen?

One moment, Asher had it all, and the next…

The blood was the most vivid part. It stained his hands and crawled its way up his nose, making him gag at the putrid stench. “A… Ash” the voice winced in pain, the words choked up. This wasn’t right. David didn't say his name like that. David didn't beg. David didn't cry, and yet, there he was… doing all 3. The tears that dripped down David’s cheeks were like tiny knives, each piercing Asher’s heart and twisting deeper with each droplet. “Ash, go help the others.” Blood trickled out the side of the Alpha’s mouth and Ash shook his head. Blinking the tears back, he pushed harder on the wound. “No. I'm not leaving you. It’s you and I till the very end, remember?” He sniffled, trying to distract himself from the agonizing sight in front of him. Stuttered breaths filled David’s chest as more of his blood coated the ground around him. David’s eyelids were fluttering, body slowly as the blood loss caught up with him. Shuffling closer, Asher brought his Alpha, no, his best friend’s head into his lap, hands clutching at the gaping hole in David’s side. “Don't close your eyes David. Don't you dare. C’mon…. Please.” Asher felt the tears fall on his cheeks but couldn't bring himself to care. “A-Ash… I love you.” David whispered, groaning as the blood filled his lungs. His eyes fell shut and body went limp.

A sob broke free as Asher cradled David’s body to his chest. “I love you too buddy.” The smell was vile, the blood stained everything and all Asher could think about was the fact that he just failed his best friend. Shutting off as much of his brain as he could, the werewolf cried, thick painful sobs. His chest ached so deeply he swore that he was dying, only, he couldn't be. Because he’d just witnessed dying and that seemed a much harsher fate. “Please don’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.” He begged but the body didn’t move. A scream tore it’s way from his chest. Asher screamed and sobbed, the agony he felt was too unbearable to put into words. Closing his eyes, the sounds echoed through the forest. He couldn't let go, couldn't accept that David was gone, that he had failed him. He felt as though someone had reached down to the most painful thing he had ever experienced and carved a hole down to a whole new depth of torture and left him scrambing in the darkness, desperate for whatever shred of light he could find. Footsteps registered in his poisoned mind and he snarled. It was vicious, his teeth snapped and the growl shook the intruder's bones. The figure sat down and Asher tightened his grip on David. No one else could see him like that and no one could take him, he wouldn't let them. “Ash, we gotta go. It's over… he’s gone.” Milo. The accent was thick and when the beta, alpha, looked up he saw the red eyes and tears his friend was sporting. No words could be used at that moment. The pain he felt was too unbelievable to be put into a simple sentence. Nothing Asher could say would get someone to understand just how much he felt like he was dying. His alpha.

His packmate.

His best friend, was dead. And he could never get him back. A cry heaved through him as he inhaled the familiar, safe scent one last time.

What the fuck was he going to do now?

#redacted asmr #redacted davey #redacted asher #redacted imperium #t.w blood #t.w death #I cried writing this at 1am #fuck me omg #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #g.n reader #the imperium au broke me omfg #between vin and asher i cannot handle #I woke up and chose pain #im so sorry #not really

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cherri-cherri · 3 years

Text

× Little moments ×

-----------×-----------

Pairings - Sukuna x Dying!Reader

Synopsis - Even with you gone, Sukuna remembers all of the memories of you.

Warnings - Story contains Character Death, possible misspelled words, cursing, and triggers to those who have encountered someone dying from a diseases such as cancer.

A/N: There was a headcanon that I just thought was too juicy to not try out where Sukuna had a lover but they were unfortunately lost to an sickness. So here we go, I hope you all enjoy it.

--------------------------------------

It was always the little moments that counted when with the one you loved the most...

"Why do you not run, Woman?", a rough voice said behind her with a slight chuckle following in suit. Before the woman was the vision of death that would no doubt be burned into her mind for the rest of her life. Houses burning down into ashen shambles as the smell of burning flesh lingered in the air. Bodies littered the streets with crows hovering over the corpses for their next meal while screams and shouting could be heard from various survivors and victims caught in the destruction.

Yet as much as the sight of her village horrified her, nothing frightened the woman most than that of the sharp claws hovering over her throat, threatening to pierce into her flesh any moment now. "I said," she felt a small prick as the nail of the stranger's index finger slowly scratched the surface of her skin, "Why do you not run? Why do you not beg..?"

Her breath hitched in her throat, gasping a little but she did her best to not flinch in the man's grasp. "I-I'm doomed to die either way, dying here by your hand would mean no differently..so I am prepared to die", she said, closing her eyes as she braced herself for her untimely end. Hearing a guttural sound coming from the man, the woman was spun around to face him and her fears only grew worse.

Yes, the attack on the village could have possibly be that of bandits or a lone man causing chaos but this was no man. No..it was a monster. Four muscular arms, two faces attached to his head, a second mouth on his lower abdomen...This man was a beast, no..he was a curse. The king of curses, the terror of the land, Ryomen Sukuna.

Seeing the dread on her face, Sukuna let out a satisfied chuckle as he roughly gripped onto her chin. "You mean to tell me you don't fear death, woman?"

"No, no I fear it. I'm frightened of the thought— but I'm dying anyway. I have only a year's worse of time left before this sickness claims me, so what's the difference if it's by your hand or not.." she spoke honestly from the heart, surprising the man before her only a tad bit as she looked down to the gravel below. No one had a cure for her illness, there was no hope at all for it, even a few doctors had told her to prepare a grave in advance just in case her death came sooner than expected. It would be unfortunate but she had made peace with knowing the end was near. And so, she waited once more for whatever gruesome fate Sukuna had for her...only to hear,

"No."

"What?" She questioned, looking back up at the man who towered over her. "This will not be the day you die."

That was the first moment she had encountered the king of curses, the moment he had spared her life. Why he did, she never understood, yet after that faithful encounter, Sukuna always found her. Perhaps he visited her only out of boredom and figured today would be the day he would kill the woman, but no, he never did.

To Sukuna, Y/N was a curious case. At first, she was a mere game to him to keep him entertained for a bit or to gain a meal or two but the more he visited her, the closer he grew to the woman. She would always ask the same question whenever she saw him,

"Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama?" And she would always ask it with such a calm smile on her lips. It irritated him—no, annoyed him that she didn't fear the looming threat of death with each visit he made. What made it worse was how welcoming the girl was to him.

He came to learn things about Y/N. The first was that she was a firm believer in her worship. Even with the motor functions of her legs growing weaker and weaker by the day, the girl would try to make a daily trip to the local temple for prayer. Once, he caught her passed out on the steps to the temple and when questioning her on why she was so desperate to prey, the only answer he received was "It may seem stupid to you but I'm grateful for the life I have, even if it's so short. They've allowed air and life to see and hear and to be here with you..so paying my respects every day is just hope that maybe tomorrow, I get to see you again." And then she smiled to him. That same irritating damning smile...

It strung a place in his chest that he had not felt in a long time. A place he thought was long shriveled up and killed, yet she brought it out. He learned that she loved flowers. Coming to her home once to find her tending to her garden, looking surprised to see him only to greet him like always, cheerful dirt covered smile and all..."Welcome back, Sukuna-Sama. Is today the day?"

Eventually the garden withered away when Y/N couldn't even step through the front door. He saw how almost every day, she grew weaker and steadily weaker. Her beautiful skin slowly dulling away into a pale color, her hair once lush and fine as silk now fallen out and gone, her breaths slow and timid. But she always greeted him with that same way as always..

"Is today the day?"

"Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama"

"S-sukuna..Sama..."

He hated it. He hated that some frail woman was able to make him feel such pathetic feelings. He hated the fact that he grew attached to her and now seeing her slowly become nothing but a husk as every sun sets was growing unbearable.

There were days to where Y/N's condition grew worse, to where when Sukuna arrived to see her, she couldn't remember who he was. Her coughing fits had her spew blood onto her hands and her body ached in pain so much. She was not long for this world and he knew it...he knew it.

"Sukuna-Sama...please, please..." He was above her as she laid in her bed, his hand cover her left one as her right palm caressed his cheek gently "is today..t-the day..?"

His heart felt like it was slowly being grounded up into bits as he started into her eyes. He wanted to say no, he wanted for her to stay just a bit longer in his embrace and yet that wasn't possible. Not in her state. Lifting her hand up to his lips, Sukuna stood up from her knee as a sigh escaped his lips.

"Yes..Today is the day, Y/N."

And there was that same smile as always. Weakly stretching across her cheeks with no malice or anger, not even a single trace of regret. "Oh good...Finally...." closing her eyes, Y/N prepared herself for the end yet again but now knowing this time it would surely come. As Sukuna's nails extended a bit, preparing to end the woman, he heard her last words and froze.

"Thank you, Sukuna-Sama...thank you for these little moments..."

He sat there for God knows how long, staring at her corpse laying there peacefully on the bed with a gaping hole in her chest. Blood dribbled down Y/N's now cold and chapped lips, the warmth in her body now gone as well as the life that once flowed through the empty shell of a body. Resting below his feet was a heart, her heart, no longer pumping fresh blood through her body but instead laying motionless on the wooden floor. She was gone.

She was finally gone and yet this feeling remained. This horrible feeling in his own heart. Those memories of her were constantly playing on loop, over and over again with the same words in his mind.

'Is today the day, Sukuna-Sama'.

He screamed out her name. He yelled it for all to hear, anguish filling his soul entirely as he uttered her name. He cursed her. He screamed out her name so many times and cursed her for placing him through such hell. He cursed her..for being the woman he loved. The woman he grew to love and yet she would never know. Perhaps he truly didnt mean those words, but hoped by cursing her, Y/N would return.

That she would awaken in his arms and give him that same smile he came to love. But no, it wouldn't have been that simple. She wasn't coming back..she wasn't coming back....

A thousand years have gone by and yet those little moments echoed in his mind. As he stood before the grave of his true love in the body of his vessel, he remember those words he said to him before she gave her last breath–

'Thank you..'

"No. I should've thanked you, Y/N. Rest well..."

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[A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this. This is my first fanfic here on tumblr and well, I like it but I want more. I might make more following this concept of a lover of Sukuna, maybe even do little scenes that I wasnt able to add here in the fic.

I'm open for asks and requests of Characters from jjk like Sukuna, Gojou or Megumi to which I'll make a post about later. Feel free to Message me with any questions on it if you like or follow for an update down the line. Thank you guys and again and please like/reblog this. See you in the next fic -🍒]

#sukuna x reader #Ryomen Sukuna #Jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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teyvattherapist · 3 years

Note

Another one, set directly after the one where Sandrone finds Childe~ :)

Sandrone-- by a feat of miracle-- snuck Ajax into his Academy room and squirreled the boy away into the cramped bathroom while he snuck into the infirmary again to retrieve a first aid kit. When he returned, Ajax had stripped off his coat and scarf, leaving him in a shirt that was more holes than fabric and his bloodstained shorts. Wordlessly, Sandrone handed him an energy bar he'd swiped from the cafeteria and wetted a towel, rubbing away the dirt and grime that layered Ajax like a second skin. As the dirt washed away, the wounds were brought into stark relief. Hundreds of them, layered over each other and crisscrossing Ajax's skin like gaping mouths. Some were fully healed, nothing but thin, silvery lines. Others were an angry red and purple, bruised and swollen around the edges. All had clean cuts, suggesting an expert hand behind the blade. "Who did this?" Sandrone asked. He wasn't really expecting an honest answer, anyway. But Ajax was always one to surprise him. "The Abyss. I fell into a hole in the ground, and I was taken away to somewhere." "Was it scary?" Sandrone didn't look up from his ministrations, choosing to focus on the mangled mess that was Ajax's knees (how hard did he fall?) "It was," Ajax sighed dreamily. "But the things I saw down there... it spoke to me. The Abyss spoke to me, Sulien. It told me things that scared the everloving hell out of me, but I'm grateful to them." "Why?" Sandrone finally looked up. There were a hundred questions packed into that one word. Why are you still alright? Why are you thanking the Abyss? Why do you sound so different?

And from the bloodied fragments of Ajax's face, the eye of the Abyss stared back at him, milky and purple. Ajax smiled, a pristine tear in the mangled visage of a beast rebuilt from the ground up. "So I can protect you."

IM SCREAMING, ALMOND, THIS IS

KJFDSKJDFS??

SULIEN BEING A SNEAKY LIL SHIT IS SO TRUE, THAT'S JUST HOW HE WAS-

BUT THE SO I CAN PROTECT YOU?? SO I CAN PROTECT YOU!! OH MY GOSDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. THE ?? JFDDF YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW!! I KNOW YOU DON'T KNOW THE LOFE, BUT THAT FITS SO WELL IM SCREAMING

as promised. Part two of Desiderium under the cut.

Another nightmare, another sleepless night. This nightmare was real though, it wasn’t like his usual ones, the ones where he was bound by chains and forced to- No, he didn’t want to think about those. His mind wandered to the latest one. He had given thought to Zhongli’s words, he was longing for somebody. But who? The God had never brought it up again, so he didn’t know. It had to be Lumine right? She was pretty, sure. Strong, good with a sword, her eyes were a nice shade of gold. But something still felt off.

He needed to take a walk.. He stopped when he reached the living room, blinking at.. Lumine? Asleep on his couch? The blonde stirred and pushed herself up some, blanket falling around her shoulders. “Sandrone? Ah- your mask- I- Sorry.” She averted her eyes and Sulien realised he wasn’t wearing his mask. This was his house! Of course he wasn’t wearing his mask. He cleared his throat.

“I thought I heard voices.” Ajax commented from the hallway, hair messier than ever from sleep. “I hope it's alright I invited Lumine to stay with us while she’s in Liyue Harbour. It's closer than the inn.” Ajax explained, seeing the panicked body language only he could understand on his fellow harbinger made him feel bad that he forgot to bring it up. Paimon snored away on the armchair, clearly unbothered by it all.

Without his mask, without his gloves, his scars and face on display. He felt uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable. “I’m going for a walk.” Sulien pivoted and made a beeline for the entrance. Lumine rubbed her sleep riddled eyes, a small yawn escaping her as she looked up at Ajax who was busy staring at the archway into the entrance.

The door slammed shut.

“I’ve only known him for a month or so but,” she yawned, “I take it this is abnormal?” She sat up properly, tightening the blanket around her though. Liyue evenings could get quite cold. Ajax nodded his head in response to her question. Abnormal indeed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen such an influx of emotion. Perhaps when they were kids? That was probably it.

Sulien breathed in the fresh air, late at night, he didn’t need his mask, he didn’t need to be his rank. He could just be another nameless person in the streets, he preferred it this way. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants as he walked down the streets. Very few people were out and about so late at night, but he enjoyed watching them. A ghost of a smile on his lips as he watched lovers enjoying a late night getaway or a tired sailor returning home late.

But despite his usual late night activity that often cleared his mind, his mind began to fog once more. Trailing back to his dream, it wasn’t even that bad, especially compared to the usual ones. But being abandoned in a dream, he supposed, tied into the feelings he had been having recently. The stabbing pain in his poor heart, the squeezing of his lungs, stripping his body of blood and air.

There was no way it was about Lumine though. He didn’t feel anything when he looked at her except the pain, there was nothing underneath. He sighed, finding himself at the docks. He looked out on the dark water, lilac eyes searching the depths for answers. He furrowed his brows, all he could think of when he looked at the water, all he was reminded of.. Just one thing.

Ajax.

Sulien shook his head, no, he shouldn’t think of Ajax of all people. He couldn’t, that wasn’t allowed as far as he was aware. Well no relationship was allowed in general, he was their puppet after all, he couldn’t have any strings except to Her. But still.. This seemed somehow worse. His heart lurched at the thought and he hissed in pain, bringing his hand up to his chest, scarred fingers digging into the black fabric of his shirt.

All the books he had read, all the research he did. None of it had any answers for this. And he wondered why he felt wrong. Sulien sighed, sitting on the edge of the docks, legs dangling above the water. Ajax seemed happy with Lumine either way, right? They were much cuter together. Sulien never really belonged anyways, an outsider looking in on everybody else. He sighed, leaning back on his arms.

There were footsteps on the dock behind him and he tensed his body, ice already forming in his fingers. Then the familiar scent of cologne hit him and he watched as Ajax sat down on the docks beside him, wrapped up in Sulien’s coat of all things. Sulien’s heart hurt and he looked out at the water, it was becoming so frequent that it was more of a dull ache. Ajax deserved better than him, better than some man who couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Talk to me.” Ajax whispered, dull eyes trained on the ocean. “You’re hurting and I want to be there this time.. I wasn’t.. I wasn’t last time.” The man hesitated, pulling one knee up and rested his arm against it. Sulien wished nothing more than for the waves to take him away, drown him until there was nothing left. He could not tell the man beside him how he felt, it was wrong. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m just sick, I’ll be fine.” Sulien manipulated his voice so he sounded more hoarse, as if to hammer in the point that it was nothing more than some freak illness. “We have field work tomorrow, you should go back home and sleep. I’ll walk you back.” Sulien stood and Ajax slowly followed him. But before Sulien could head off the docks, Ajax grabbed his elbow, stopping him.

“Please talk to me when you feel ready.” Sulien merely smiled, one of the ones that Ajax knew was fake and full of lies. But the ginger accepted it in the moment.

Sulien sighed as he summoned his claymore, flipping the massive weapon in one hand. The conversation from the day before played in his head, over and over. But he had work to do now. Why did Ajax care? What did he mean when he said he wasn’t there last time? Sulien swung his weapon, the frostbitten blade slicing clean through the arm of the Ruin Guard. He didn’t expect to be smacked by the automaton’s other arm, he barely protected himself with a wall of ice.

“Sandrone, pay attention!” Ajax called, utterly confused on why his colleague was so lost in thought. Ajax ripped apart his bow, the hydro blades forming as he slashed at the ruin guard. It was a simple side mission, really. Destroy the ruin guard near the skirmisher camp. Easy peasy between the two of them. Hell even alone, just one of them probably could have done it. But it was rare they both were allowed into the field together.

Sulien froze the ruin guard and Ajax’s daggers turned back into his bow, he nocked an arrow and drew his string back. Right through the core, bullseye. “Alright that’s that!” Ajax’s bow dematerialised as the automaton fell. There was a whirring nearby and Sulien narrowed his eyes, Ajax didn’t seem to hear it. But he did.

A wall of ice protected Ajax from the incoming missiles of another automaton. Sulien barely dodged the drill of a ruin hunter. Why were there so many all of a sudden? Ajax easily flipped out of the way of the hit of the ruin guard that had attacked him, sliding back to where he had been when fighting the first one. His bow appeared in his hand and he got into position again. “Tartaglia! How many did the Skirmishers report?” Sulien questioned as blocked an attack with his claymore.

His arms shook as the hunter tried to keep cutting downwards with its long sword-like attachment. He had to yield, ducking underneath it. Ajax bent down on his perch, pointing his bow upwards he released multiple hydro arrows into the air. “They only reported one ruin guard! There was no mention of multiples, let alone a hunter.” Ajax called back as another hydro arrow appeared between his fingers.

Now underneath it the ruin hunter decided this was the time to use lasers. Sulien barely constructed the dome around himself in time, manipulating the frost in the air and creating a solid ice dome. A fourth automaton had Ajax seething, how in the hell did their subordinates miss this? When the one he had been fighting slammed its hand onto Ajax’s perch he used its arm as a bridge, bow turning into a polearm.

The ice around Sulien melted but before he could react a second ruin hunter was slamming into him, sending him flying backwards. “Sulien! Careful!” Ajax called, stabbing his polearm into the core of the ruin guard. Sulien got back up, dodging out of the way of one of the hunters. He ran for his claymore, weaving between various attacks as quickly as he could while Ajax struggled with the ruin guard.

Sulien picked his claymore back up and adjusted his grip on the weapon, he slashed at the legs of the ruin guard Ajax was battling, sending the automaton to the ground, the whirring of its body stopping. Two ruin hunters left- Sulien turned around and was faced with three. What in the world- “Something is summoning them here, Tartaglia. This is abnormal.” Sulien adjusted his grip on his blade, peering through the new crack in his mask. He’d have to fix it again.

A bright light beside him blinded him and Sulien hissed as he turned away from Ajax. He didn’t really have time to focus on the transformation as he shielded the both of them from the incoming missiles. A wall of ice reinforced with vines splintered and exploded, the shards turning into snowflakes as they fell from it. At least the wall had lasted against the missiles.

While Sulien thoroughly distracted one of the ruin hunters, Ajax focused on the other two, he brought his hand down, summoning multiple thunderbolts onto one of the ruin hunters, causing it to collapse to the ground, stunned from the electricity. His bow turned into a water spear as he dashed forward, the water from his weapon spraying the automaton, thoroughly frying it. Sulien’s claymore became encased in ice once more, and the ruin hunter he had to deal with was down for the count.

Ajax turned his attention to the last ruin hunter, turning in time to watch the missiles coming at him. He used his ability to blink, reappearing closer toSulien who was looking worse for wear quite frankly. Ajax lunged forward once more, a wheel of electrified water surrounding the ruin hunter, tightening on it. Sulien stepped forward, releasing a blast of ice that froze the machine, causing it to fall from its awkward frozen position, shattering upon contact on the ground. Ajax was beaming, still in his Abyss form but he let himself actually touch the ground rather than float and he turned towards Sulien.

Sulien's claymore dug into the stone and he used it to keep himself up. Ajax closed the distance between them, his weapon floating beside him. Sulien collapsed onto his knees, the large weapon giving out underneath his weight and clattering to the stone floor of the ruin. Funny.. This didn't hurt as much as the heart problems had been hurting.. Life was funny that way. "Hey, hey what happened?" Ajax shifted back, he was exhausted from the fight and using foul legacy. His eyes trailed down to where Sulien's hand was pressed against his side. Ajax gripped the man's hand, pulling it back. The dark green of his palm stained even darker.

"The ruin hunter hit me." Sulien's head hung low, the mask he wore finally giving out, falling to the stone floor, the crack that had started to form fully breaking through the fragile mask. Ajax wished that Sulien didn't look so void, maybe it could help him assess the extent of the wound. Ajax helped Sulien out of the coat he wore, discarding the heavy material onto the ground. The touch was electrifying to Sulien, whose heart only clenched more. So many things unsaid.. But even now, he figured, he didn't deserve the right to say them.

Ajax pulled the man's shirt up, inspecting the wound. It was bad. Really bad. Sulien didn't even flinch when the man used his hydro vision to try and get rid of some of the blood to see better. "I never wanted this." Sulien mumbled as he stared up at the sky. Yes that much was true, Sulien never wanted to be on the battlefield. He was not a warrior. At one time he wanted to be a scholar, he wanted to teach. All of that ripped away with his memories. This was the end Ajax wanted, surrounded by bodies on the battlefield. Ajax ripped the banner he wore, pressing the fabric against the wound.

"Sulien, keep your eyes open, okay? I'll get you help." Would he be strong enough to carry Sulien and his weapon all the way back to Liyue Harbour? Sulien laughed, it was bitter though and it made Ajax's heart hurt. They both had so many things left unsaid. Ajax grunted as he lifted Sulien, the man hadn't listened. Though, when did he ever listen, Ajax mused. The harbinger had to use foul legacy again, there was no way he'd be able to get from the ruins all the way back to the harbour. The warm blood on his hands made the decision for him.

The stares he got as he moved through Liyue Harbour meant nothing to him, he kept Sulien's coat over the man in question, shielding his face and wound from the general public. The claymore in his free hand as he quickly moved through the streets. There were so many things Ajax hadn't said, so many things he felt, so many things he wanted to do. He gripped the man in his arm tighter.

Ajax kicked the door open, much to the surprise of Zhongli and his guests who watched as the large abyssal creature ducked to get through the doorway. Ajax dropped the claymore in the entrance way, letting the weapon clatter to the ground. He then shifted back, all but falling to his knees, Sulien’s still body rolling from his arms. Ajax slammed his hand into the ground as he tried to push himself back up.

“Help, help him please.” But he found himself unable to get up, breathing too unsteady, his own wounds catching up with him as the adrenalin was all but gone. Zhongli dropped his teacup, moving quickly he picked up Sulien, bringing him further into the house. At least Ajax could rest now, leaning his head against the hallway wall.

“Lumine, go get Baizhu please. Paimon, could you bring me the medical kit from the kitchen?” Zhongli lowered Sulien down onto the couch, pulling the fabric away from the wound the God grimaced. Lumine nodded, stepping over Ajax to get out the door as fast as she could. Paimon also listened, despite her small frame she managed to drag the medical kit into the living room. Zhongli peeled his gloves off and rolled up his sleeves as he tried to stop the flow of blood now staining his furniture.

“He should recover if he doesn’t get an infection. But do you think it is wise to treat Fatui? One less Harbinger may be-”

“I appreciate your concern, but Sandrone is a good friend no matter his occupation. He can’t help his work. Thank you for coming. Have a good night Baizhu.” Zhongli shut the door soon after and then returned to the living room. Sulien was asleep on the couch, a thin blanket covering his lower half while his torso was wrapped in multiple bandages. Ajax, meanwhile, was sitting on the ground, holding Sulien’s hand, head resting against the couch.

“They look kinda cute.” Paimon’s whisper was absolutely not a whisper, but at least she tried as she floated between Zhongli and Lumine, a smile on her face despite the fact it was two harbingers in front of her. She couldn’t know, there was no way for her to know what the two men in front of her have been through. Both alone and together. The scars could give her a hint. But that was it, and she was too naive to get it. And so to her, they were just bloodsoaked warriors who fought in the name of something she did not understand.

To Zhongli though, he’d seen this story play out thousands of times throughout history, and all he could muster was a frown, especially as his eyes traced the scars on Sulien's bare chest. As he retraced their previous conversations, he had first thought maybe it was Lumine. But as he watched the way Ajax nearly killed himself for the man. Zhongli sighed softly. What a tragic position to be in indeed.

“I’ll bring him home. Thank you for helping.” Ajax stood slowly, wincing at the pain he felt. He was in a bad state himself. Lumine held out the tattered coat, the black and navy fabric stained in hidden crimson. Ajax took it, wrapping it around Sulien before hoisting him up with a grunt. Sulien stirred in his arms but remained asleep. “I’ll pick up his claymore tomorrow.” Ajax couldn’t carry the weapon right now.

“Be safe.”

Sulien blinked at the ceiling of his bedroom. It was light outside, but the room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. His side hurt like hell, the events of what happened melding into his fragmented memory though, and he couldn’t quite recall at the moment. He felt weight shift in the bed beside him and he tensed immediately. There were very few he’d ever let close enough to him who-

“I know you’re sleeping but..” Ajax started with a soft sigh and Sulien promptly squeezed his eyes shut and evened out his breathing as if he were sleeping. “I think I know why you’ve been sick lately.. It’s the same reason why I’m sick.” Sulien wanted to furrow his brow as he quickly grew confused but opted to continue pretending he was asleep.

“I thought spending time with Lumine would take my mind off of you but it didn’t.” So he had been doing it on purpose. “Lumine is nice and all. But she’s not you.” Sulien could feel Ajax’s warm hand against his cold one, his long slender fingers playing with the scarred skin of Sulien’s hand. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship we have if you don’t feel the same. So I tell you when you’re asleep like a coward.” Ajax sighed to himself. “This is so pathetic of me.” He mumbled.

“And then it’s my fault you’re hurt, they were my subordinates and my mission.” Ajax’s voice cracked and he didn’t even try to hide it. Though, Sulien supposed when you’re talking to somebody who is asleep, there’s nothing to hide. “All I do is fail you, what kind of friend am I? If I can’t even be a good friend, how am I supposed to be a good enough lover to tell you how I feel?” Ajax intertwined their fingers, but his touch was so hesitant. His hand was so warm, too.

“You say it all the time.. We’re just pawns in all of this.. This is one choice I have control over in this mess and yet I can’t even make it. You deserve so much more.” Ajax pulled his hand away and Sulien missed the comforting warmth. “You deserve somebody who can help heal those wounds, not.. A bloodthirsty monster like me. Whew, okay.. That helped. Good job Ajax.” Ajax mumbled to himself, a soft sigh of relief now that the weight was off of his chest.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Ajax sat up, dull eyes wide as he looked down at Sulien whose eyes were still closed. “I don’t really know how love is supposed to feel. But I think I feel it.” The man sighed, he didn’t know very much it would seem. “Could I have your hand back? I like how warm you are.” Sulien finally opened his eyes to Ajax staring at him, a range of emotions on the ginger’s face. Huh.. Had he always had that many freckles on his face? Cute.

“How much did you hear?!”

“All of it.” Ajax inhaled sharply, panic setting in. Sulien reached out, grabbing Ajax’s hand, warm. “You deserve somebody who understands the things they are feeling. And I’m not that. But I can try to learn..” Sulien cleared his throat, it hurt to speak but he couldn’t really remember the last time he had. He must have been hit pretty hard. “Te-” he hesitated, looking away from Ajax’s shocked expression and out the window. “Teach me.”

Ajax settled back down on the bed, intertwining their fingers once more. “Okay.. I’ll teach you.”

#moots #asks #Almond<3 #Tandrone #Lane's ocs #Sulien Ambros #Sandrone #p1 of Desiderium is on my main btw #this is p2

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phantomwarrior12 · 4 years

Text

A Timely Rescue

Prompt: All of y’all insisting on another chapter xD

Word Count: 2,478

Summary: Sometimes hunters are the ones who need to be rescued.

A/N: Hey folks!

It’s here at last! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Upon popular demand, here if chapter two of A Lonely World. I do apologize for the delay, y’all would not believe how crazy life has been since I released chapter one. And, since I wrote this one, I opened my dumbass to a whole ass series, so, y’all have that to look forward to! xD

So, feel free to leave a like/comment to let me know your thoughts! Without further adieu!

Enjoy!

~Phantom

A Time To Know Your Enemy (Ch. 3)

--------------

The tip of biting steel traces along your skin, a whisper of fear over flesh as you stare with unwavering defiance into midnight.

This wasn't how the hunt was supposed to go. They weren't supposed to be here. This was supposed to be a vamp nest.

Your jaw sets as the blade draws blood and your features contort into a grimace, trying to conceal the searing fire that sings through your veins with an ill-timed, "That the best you got?" You're not prepared for the blade to delve deeper. You're not prepared for the tears to slip traitorously down your cheeks and provoke taunts from your tormentors.

"What was that, little hunter?"

"You gonna cry? We should find a spell that calls for the tears of a human and see just how many different techniques can bring a hunter to tears."

Spite and fury churn in a dangerous concoction in the pit of your stomach. Somewhere, there's a twinge of indignation. Somewhere, there's a building flame that ignites along your ribs and flares along your forearms. Somewhere, there's a nagging fragment that leaves you anxious and wondering if anyone is actually coming to your rescue.

The Winchesters don't know where you are. You're not sure if your prayers are reaching Castiel and there's no chance in heaven or hell that you're going to escape your bindings with two demons circling you.

Yet, despite the hopelessness tugging at your soul, somehow you know these demons are well and truly fucked.

At first, it's a blast of brilliant light that permeates every inch of the room, forcing your eyes shut and your face towards the floor. Then it's a deafening cacophony that splits the air in a high pitched whine that has you straining against your restraints in a desperate attempt to shield your ringing ears.

Somehow, through it all, you can hear the screams of your hell-spawned tormentors. You steal a glimpse of their collapsed frames, eyes burnt out and forms limp as the light and sound fades. As silence falls, you blink slowly, trying to clear the disorientation, barely registering footsteps off to your left. Hunter's instincts kick into overdrive and you're not sure if the newest arrival is better than the former company. You summon what strength you can, feebly wrenching your wrists against biting metal before you feel two fingers press tenderly against your temple and your frame eases beneath their touch. There's a faint whisper of something cool flourishing across your skin, a steady thrum of energy you swear you recognize from somewhere - somewhere celestial.

"Cas?" It's all you can manage in a feeble whisper, swiftly silenced by a violent scream that rips through your chest when the blade is pulled unceremoniously from your shoulder. And then it's gone. Wounds mend, bruises fade and the sharp ache in every muscle ebbs but your head feels heavy and your eyes beg to be closed. When you roll your head to the side, it isn't the tan trenchcoat of your angel friend, but rather dated leather and blue jeans. Confusion emerges victorious before your eyes sag shut and consciousness caves to exhaustion.

----------------------

The next time you open your eyes, there's a soft breeze dancing through the curtains of your motel room, filtering sunlight streaming over sheets with each whisper of fresh air. The palms of your hands dig in, scrubbing at the sleepy daze over your eyes, willing it to disappear as you sit up on the ancient mattress with a series of squeaks and groans from the springs.

As your gaze shifts over the room you realize all is as you'd left it, a pristine order that suggested the previous evening's events hadn't happened. It's then that the memories come rushing back and you reach instinctively to check what should be a gaping hole in your shoulder.

"Rescued, right? Not Cas, he'd have stuck around," you murmur, swinging your feet onto the floor, fingers threading through disheveled hair, "Balthazar's still on the run...that leaves--" you lift your head, tugging the sleeve of your flannel up and stare at the patch of skin where the invisible sigil hums soothingly along frazzled nerves. Your fingers trace along the skin as your eyes squeeze shut, "Gabriel, I know what you are. I know you're there." You take an uncertain breath, a silencing anxious wave crashing over you. If the archangel is anything like his brother, he can sense it, but he doesn't come.

You wait a long moment before you summon the composure to speak, "Gabriel - I want to thank you...properly." Your eyes open and drift over the room, "Can you at least show yourself before you hit the road again? It's not every day an archangel comes to my rescue."

One. Two. Three minutes pass with utter silence, the only noticable trace of movement being the curtains.

Your shoulders sag, features falling with a dejected breath, "All right. Message received," you stand, moving over to your pack to retrieve a clean set of clothes, pausing only when you detect the unmistakable rustle of wings, "I didn't take you as the shy type, tough guy." You cast a glance over your shoulder, quirking an eyebrow.

"I like my dramatic entrances. Besides, I prefer the term cautious. Humans are unpredictable, and after Cassie let the cat out of the bag? Well, let's just say I'm not overly eager to have all of heaven on my tail any time soon by showing my mug once too often." Gabriel props himself against the bathroom doorframe.

"Then why come to my rescue?" Your head tilts as you turn, studying his blank features for any trace of the warmth they'd held the first night you'd met him, "Why the branding?"

"Is that a hint of disdain, sweetcheeks?" A cocky grin slides easily across soft lips, a mischievous glint flaring to life in alluring whiskey as they trail over your frame. You straighten up, fighting to maintain a detached expression despite the heat rising in your cheeks beneath his weighted gaze.

"Curiosity, at best. Enochian sigils seared into your skin is a little more drastic than getting a man's name tattooed on your arm after the first meeting. So, do I get to hear the story behind my new invisible ink?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Oh, I'm sure it ties in to that night at the bar, but why I earned such a rare branding is still a mystery. You brand every woman you meet?" There's a shadow of a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your arms ease into a comfortable cross in front of your chest.

"What happened to that 'proper thank you' you promised me?"

"I need some answers first." You gesture to the bed expectantly.

"Bed? I like where this is going." he flashes you a wry grin and a wink that sparks a stutter in your heartbeat.

"Don't get your hopes up, smartass." You retort as you take a seat on the mattress, determined to remain composed. Though, despite your best efforts, you're failing spectacularly. Your only saving grace is that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice.

"I'm nothing but hope, sweetcheeks," he glides onto the mattress beside you, leaving very little space between the two of you.

He knows. There's no way he couldn't and yet, you can detect nothing more than light-hearted heckling in those glimmering flecks of honey and hazel. The same warmth you'd glimpsed that night in the bar all those months ago. He's different. Granted, he's an archangel and that, no doubt, is to be expected. Still - he's different in a way you can't quite describe. In a way that's there, and yet just out of reach as he reclines on the bed, propped up on an elbow with a broad grin.

"You gonna ask your questions, sweetcheeks? Or just admire the view?"

You're flustered. You're out of your depth and this is stupid. So, you fall back. You slide further onto the bed and cross your legs, squarely facing the archangel and the grin fades to something unidentifiable. You wouldn't call it affectionate or heated but - you don't know what you'd call it as you adjust your flannel and roll your sleeves back down.

"Depends. You going to give me straight answers this time?"

"I gave you straight answers then," he tilts his head just enough to seem all the more adorable. Of course, he probably intends to it to convey his truthful intentions, but the glimmer in those honeyed hues is damned distracting.

"You did," it's a reluctant concession, "but you weren't altogether forthcoming. You left some key information out in those answers."

Gabriel's lips tug upwards into an almost condescending smirk as a golden brow arches, "You're a hunter, sweetheart. You know better than anyone that your opening line shouldn't be monster-related. And given your history with angels," the smirk falters and with it, the playfulness of his voice, "You'd have been out of that barstool in two seconds flat."

You look down at your hands, almost ashamed. He was right, you would have run, regrouped with the Winchesters. But in your experience, archangels haven't been on the side of humanity, and based solely on that fact, you'd never have let him as close as he had been that night - not by your side and certainly not in your arms.

His voice draws your gaze back to his features, "But you knew something was up. The moment I sat next to you, you tensed - like you sensed something was off about me." He props himself up a little higher, honey flecks flickering over your features as if he were trying identify that piece of your soul that separates the human from the monster-hunter, "Didn't you?"

His question is more of a statement than an inquiry and you offer a solitary nod.

"But you didn't run. That hunter alarm had to be going nuts." He slides a little closer, reaching a seated position, "You've been around my baby brother long enough to sense that--" he pauses, reaching out and his hand hovers over your knee, "spark - that faint buzz on the edge of your senses that only comes around when something divine enters the room."

A shy smile slips across your lips at the tingling sensation along your knee and you dare to meet his gaze, "Even if I hadn't, your inability to keep your grace in check gave you away."

He chuckles lightly, "You seemed drunk enough, I figured I'd test just how much. I could see the confusion in your eyes, but you...let it slide. Why?" There's intrigue building in his eyes, determination drawing his brows together into a gentle line.

"I thought I was asking the questions," you deflect, ignoring the sudden weight of his hand on your knee through the thin layer of your sweatpants - though when you'd changed from jeans to sweats, you had no idea.

"Indulge me." His head tilts and the rapid flutter of your heart forces your gaze to the dwindling space between you.

"I've - sensed that buzz in a room when an angel enters. Sam and Dean don't understand it," your fingers wind around the string attached to your pants, weaving in and out and over and under to occupy the anxious thrum through your veins, "but I can also sense their intentions. Their hatred when they're looking for a fight. Their fear just before that blade falls. Their anxiety," y/e/c locks with honey, "when they stride up to a hunter in a crowded bar and attempt to make small talk because they're just as lonely." Your voice fades to a soft murmur, "Their relief when they realize they're safe, if only for a moment, in a loud room with a complete stranger. And their warmth when the walls falter," you lean in, holding inches from the archangel's lips, "and they can be what they are."

"And what are they?"

You could swear there's a twinge of fear in his voice, as if a being of his magnitude could be terrified of the next words to come from a mortal's lips.

"They're--"

I'm on the highway to hell! Highway to hell--

Your shoulders sag, your chin dropping to your chest as you lean past him to pick up your phone, "Hold that thought."

He smiles gently, watching you stand from the bed and pace a few short steps away and answer the phone.

"Dean?"

"Y/N! Thank God!" You can hear the relief in the eldest Winchester's voice, you can only imagine what his expression is, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine--"

"We've been trying to get ahold of you for hours. When you didn't check in last night, we got worried. What happened?" It's Sam's voice you detect next as you steal a glimpse over your shoulder at Gabriel who seems enthralled with a loose thread in your sheets.

"Wasn't a vamp nest," you lean against the dresser, watching the archangel absently, "It was a trap."

"A trap? A trap set by who?"

"I wish I knew. If--" you stop yourself as Gabriel lifts his head, concern flashing in whiskey as they lock with y/e/c.

"If what? Y/N, you still there?" Another twinge of fear in Dean's voice.

"I'm here. Uh," you rub the back of your neck, "If I hadn't brought my angel blade in, I'd have been screwed. I was jumped by two demons.

"How'd you escape?" Sam pries, no doubt exchanging a concerned look with Dean.

"Lucky, I guess. Everything's kind of a blur." Your fingers find their way to your temple as you begin to pace, taking your eyes off the archangel on your bed. "All I know is we'll need to have a chat with Crowley."

"Could be Abbadon, but we'll check it out all the same."

"Sounds like a plan." You turn, gaze falling to the empty bed and your heart sinks.

"Alright. Send us your location, we're on our way to you right now."

"Will do. See you in a couple hours." You hang up, hand falling to your side in defeated resignation. You drop the phone unceremoniously onto the bed and glance around the room, taking note of the brilliant red on your nightstand. You cautiously move around the bed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips as fingers curl around the singular rose he'd left in his wake, something Enochian inscribed into the ribbon wound elegantly around the green stem. You'll need Cas to translate, but you realize you never got to ask your questions. Part of you wonders if his disappearing act was a deliberate attempt at preventing it. Though, one thing was for certain - the archangel had no concept of manners.

Would it kill him to bid a proper farewell for once?

------------------

Chapter 3

Taglists are open! Send me an ask/message to be added!

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leelee10898 · 5 years

Text

Chikara: Kanashimi (1/?)

Ellie wheeler's senior year turned out to be one she would never forget. Now in college, leaving behind the life she grew to love, she did anything but thrive.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, lemme know!!

Raiting: Mature. Series will contain, violence, death, sexual situations, and bad decisions.

Ellie quietly wandered the halls of Langston, head down, never noticed by anyone and she never spoke to anyone either. It was just her and her thoughts, her roommate flaked out the first two weeks of fall semester. Not like she ever really talked to the girl. Her day consists of getting up, going to school, homework, dinner, shower, bed. Rinse, lather, repeat, Every day for 6 months.

She tried to keep her mind busy, she never fully tuned it out. Behind all the math problems and research papers, he was always there like a cancerous tumor sucking the life out of her. she didn't hate it, it was quite the opposite really, she loved it, she needed it to get by the long days and lonely nights.

The night they finally took the brotherhood down, was one of the proudest moments she felt. They watched as Jason was hauled off in handcuffs, a tiny sliver of justice for Kaneko. She said goodbye to Toby, Ximena, even Mona, she knew they would move on from the crew. When Logan said goodbye it stung, she cared a great deal for him. He was the first guy she had ever kissed, or even had feelings for but, he wasn't Colt. From the moment they met, he drove her crazy, he annoyed her to no end and he was a complete jerk but she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

She had just finished submitting her final paper to her English teacher when she ran to her dorm room, grabbed her bags and headed to the airport. When she left for the summer program at Langston she told her dad she would see him at thanksgiving. She reluctantly left her car behind, a deal her father and her came to for breaks such as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Spring break, In the summer she would drive home. It was finally Thanksgiving and she couldn't wait. she pressed the imaginary gas pedal on the airplane floor, secretly hoping it would get her there faster.

The sound of a screaming child filled the cabin, Ellie popped her earbuds in, attempting to drown out the noise. Just a little bit longer, almost there she kept telling herself. Once they landed, she grabbed her luggage and looked for her dad. She seen him standing in the pick up area holding one of those makeshift signs that read Wheeler. "Dad, you're such a dork." She flung her arms around him. "Yeah, the coolest dork you'll ever meet." He retorted.

They got in the car and made the drive to the house, sure she couldn't wait to be home. She was looking forward to seeing Riya and Darius, having Thanksgiving dinner at her grandparents, but she had more pressing matters to attend to. They pulled into the driveway and Ellie ran into the house, flinging her luggage on the bed. She had to play it carefully, not to tip her dad off as to her plans. She came down stairs and like clockwork her dad asked if she was hungry. "Sure thing dad." She smirked, knowing after he ate he would want to take a nap.

"So. Any plans with Riya? She's home from Hartfeld this week." Dad asked as he put the dishes in the sink. "Yeah we actually made some plans to catch up. Speaking of, can I use your car to see if shes home?" Her dad reached in his pocket handing her the keys "Just be careful, I'm going to take a nap."

Ellie ran up to her room, she flung open her suitcase and changed out of her leggings and baggy t shirt into a pair of jeans and a crop top.

She ran to the car, turning the key as the engine roared to life. It wasn't her car, but it would do.

She made the drive into the city, stopping at where the sideshow was, but nothing was there. She pulled down another street and parked in front of the familiar building. Not much had been done with the burned out shell of its former self, it looked as if time stood still. It was boarded up in attempts to keep people out, she walked around the building until she found a loose board and slipped in. The inside was hardly touched, some sorting had been done, she knew Colt had come back the day he gave her the cactus. There wasn't much left of the place, some debris strewn about, some shells of cars that once sat in the bay. It was clear nobody had been here, and the realization that nobody was coming back began to set it.

She thought she needed to come here, that maybe she would find something other then the burnt remains of the place that changed her, or someone. The tears began to sting her eyes, so many memories in such a short time. Ever since they parted ways, she felt like a part of her was missing. There was a gaping hole in her heart that ached, she grasped her chest as ler legs failed her. For 6 months she kept her phone glued to her, in hopes someone would just reach out, for 6 months she prayed that someone would come for her, that she wasn't alone, and she meant something to them.

She sat alone on the floor of Kaneko's garage in a heap of ash and soot, crying her eyes out. They were gone, you're just a tourist ringing in her head. She was in fact alone, they weren't coming back for her and it was time to try and move on.

She made her way back home, covered head to toe in the black substance that stained the floors of the garage, much like the stains on her heart. After a long cry in the hot shower, Ellie pulled open her closet door and started to hang her clothes inside when she spotted something tucked away behind her prom dress. She couldn't imagine what it might be, it was larger than any of her clothes. Gripping the petal pink fabric she pulled the dress forward, giving easier access to the mystery item. Her fingers began to tremble, her nerves on edge as she ripped the clothing hanging in front of it off the hangers and tossed them to the floor reaching her goal item.

Ellie staggered backwards, item in hand. the backs of her knees hitting the mattress causing her to sit. She stared blankly at the jacket in front of her, Colts leather jacket. How did it get there? She didn't think it was there when she packed for Langston, but could she have missed it?

She held the soft leather to her face, the scent of his cologne putting her immediately at ease. This was all she had left of him, that and the few photos and texts she had saved in her phone. Ellie slipped the jacket on, it was over sized but she didn't care. She placed her hands in the pockets pulling it flush to her body as if it were his arms wrapped around her. Her fingers brushed against something and she pulled it from the pocket.

She stared down at the folded piece of paper, she recognized the stationary, it was one from her desk. Unfolding it slowly, tears began to well on her eyes in anticipation. His penmanship was far better then she anticipated but she knew better then to expect to unexpected when it came to Colt Kaneko.

Ellie,

If you are reading this that means you have found my jacket in your closet. I am risking everything coming here and sneaking in. I just needed you to have it, to have something of me with you in this cold, unforgiving world.

Im not good with words, and feelings so im going to try my best. I love you Ellie Wheeler, I probably have since the moment I laid eyes on you at the side show, only I couldn't admit it to myself then.

I know you think that I don't care but leaving you, was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I meant what I said, we will see each other again.

I watched you give your speech at graduation, It took everything I had in me not to run out there and kiss you. I am so proud of you valedictorian. And just a little while ago when you drove away for College, I just had to see you if only at a distance. Keeping you safe will always be my priority, and with the fbi breathing down my back, letting you go was the only way.

Live your life to the fullest Elle, don't cry for me im not worth your tears. Have fun in college, make friends, fall in love. You are amazing and you deserve to be happy. I hope that when our paths do cross again, you accomplished everything you set out to. I think your dad may be home so I have to run. Remember I will always Love you Ellie, even if I can't be with you.

Love, Colt.

She closed the letter, tears streaming down her face as she laid down on her bed. He was at her graduation, and when she left for Langston. She was hurting but she knew she had to move on, and now with his jacket she had a piece of him with her.

Two weeks went by in the blink of an eye, before she knew it she was back at Langston. She drug her luggage down the long hall to her dorm room, she reached for her key, opening her door she walked into a different room then when she left. The opposite side of the room, once empty was decorated in pink, pink as far as the eye could see. Ellie flung her bags onto the bed, collapsing next to them when the sound of the door opening startled her. She sat up, eyes wide staring at the person in front of her. "Hey roomie!"

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@kennaxval @hopefulmoonobject @crookedslimecreatorpasta @be-still-my-aching-heart @ao719 @speedyoperarascalparty @riseandshinelittleblossom @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @ownworldresident @cordoniaqueensworld @indiacater @blackcatkita @darley1101 @hazah

ROD

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@littlemissimaginativerhi

#choices ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices ride or die #ride or die bad boy romance #chikara rod fan fic #ellie wheeler #colt x ellie #colt x mc #colt kaneko #rod colt #logan rod #riya rod #darius rod #rod dad

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pyro-flug · 7 years

Note

hi I really like your writings and drawings and I have a really hard time talking or putting thoughts into words but I wanna say keep up the good work *2 thumbs up*. And if you don't mind (or if you haven't written them already) could I request 39 or 40 paper hat angst? (I'm sorry this is really long ask)

“We need to talk about what happened last night.”

It was two in morning, and Blackhat was leaning in the doorway of the Dr. Flug’s lab. The scientist himself was sitting at his work station, pouring out a purple solution into the flask he was heating over a bunsen burner. He nearly dropped the vial when he heard his boss speak.

The muscles in Flug’s back tensed, as he set the solution aside. He tried to swallow past the lump rising in his throat, but knowing what was coming next made his chest ache. Flug attempted to compose himself and act nonchalant as he asked,

“What do you mean, sir?” A chill passed through the room as Blackhat glided forward.

“I know you know what I’m speaking of, Doctor.” Flug’s fingers curled around the lip of the counter and he squeezed until his knuckles went white.

“I’m -I’m awful tired at this late hour, sir. I’m afraid that I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A hand slammed down next to Flug’s, and the doctor jumped out of fear. The snarl pulling at the corners of Blackhat’s mouth broke the floodgate that Flug was trying to hold closed. “Okay! I do know what you’re talking about, but I don’t see what there is to talk about!” Flug’s chest heaved for air. “There nothing you can say that I don’t already know about, so what’s the point!”

He was barely holding back tears at this point. Blackhat was staring at him blankly; his expression unchanging even as he looked away. The eldritch seemed to hesitate before clasping his arms behind his back and nodding. Then he was gone as quickly as he came; a ghostly visitor to haunt Flug’s dreams.

Once the door shut, Flug collapsed to his knees. He crawled a few feet forward, towards his desk, and curled up underneath with his knees tucked up under his chin. Chest aching, heart heavy, and his stomach twisting into knots he wanted to scream. But with the mix of emotions in his veins he just couldn’t let them out. No tears, no sobbing, no break down.

He felt empty.

His body went limp and slipped down the inside walls of the desk until he was flat on his back. The sigh he let out felt like it was taking his soul with it. The part of him that was longing, the hole opening in his the space between his ribs, wanted to turn back time or just forget last night ever happened.

Late night confessions and vulnerable hearts had led to soft kisses and a gentle embrace. Sleeping with someone holding you close, like you mattered to them, left an impression on your very core. Knowing, as you woke up to an empty bed, that you had made a mistake was gut wrenching.

The emotions flooded back in quietly, leaving wet tracks down past Flug’s ears and into his curly brown hair. He didn’t make a sound as the back of his bag became soaked with tears.

The energy drained from his body, Flug rolled on his side, and slowly dragged his arms across the floor so that he was propped up slightly. Then he pushed up weakly so that he could sit up.

Limbs shaking, eyes running dry, Flug hauled his heavy body to it’s feet. He stumbled and hit his hip against the corner of the desk. He used the pain radiating from the bruise as a distraction from his swirling thoughts.

“One foot in front of the other,” Flug mumbled to himself. Then he made his way towards the door, the hole in his chest now a gaping void of empty black. He wanted to forget, so that what he was going to try and do.

Flug was in his private quarters, a bottle of newly opened alcohol in his hands, when there was knock on the door.

He wanted to pretend he didn’t hear it. The doctor tried to ignore the insistent pounding that broke out when he didn’t answer, but it bounced around his skull and began to thud against his broken heart like a hammer. Flug dropped the bottle, and it spilled across the carpet as he pressed his palms flat against his ears to block out the noise.

“GO AWAY!” he screamed. The knocking stopped. Flug pulled in a pained breath, and let his hands drop back to his sides. His feet dragged as he shuffled to the door. Then he pressed his face to the cool wood and strained to hear whoever had been on the other side.

There was the sound of raspy breathing, and the rustle of clothing. Then a deep voice said,

“I’m sorry, Flug.”

It was like lightning had struck Flug when he was soaking wet. He froze for a few precious seconds, disbelief pulsing through his systems, then he ripped the door open and looked down the halls to find that no one was there. Without thinking, his legs were carrying him down the corridor as he was scrambling to put his frazzled mind back together.

Had he heard that right? Had he imagined that voice? Those words?

His fist slammed into a dark, wood door. When no one answered, he bashed both fists against it so hard that they stung. Again, again, again, and again until the nerves in his fingers burned with agony.

“DAMN IT, BLACKHAT!” he cried out. “IF YOU REALLY WERE SORRY YOU’D ANSWER ME!” In the still that followed Flug’s outburst, he could hear indistinct whisperings. Slowly, the doctor let himself crumple to the floor and sit with his back against the door. After a few moments, he realized he could just make out what was being said.

“-the problem is that neither of really knew what we were doing.” he heard.

“And why does that matter?” Flug responded. There was a pause.

“’Cause I came to talk to you about how we were going to treat last night, but way you acted told me you wanted to forget it ever happened. So I felt like I should apologize for my actions.” This took Flug by surprise.

“Wait… you didn’t…. You didn’t want to forget?”

“No! I…. I just don’t know to handle all these new emotions!”

“You left through…”

“Flug! I left because I was overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to wake up and have you shove me away!” Something twisted inside Flug’s abdomen.

“I…… I would never have guessed that….” There was a snort of tormented laughter.

“Neither would I have!”

“So….”

“So?” The silence stretched on forever, neither of the villains daring to break it. Then Flug sighed and thunked his head back against the wood.

“Do you want to let me in, or do you want me to leave?” he whispered. A lock unlatched, and that was his answer.

Desperate hands latched onto aching bodies like they were searching for a life line. Fingers curled into loose clothes, and pulled them tight. Tears poured out unbidden from closed eyes.

“I’m sorry,” spilled out of both of their mouths as they pressed closer. “I love you.”

It was almost three in the morning now. Blackhat and Flug lay on their sides on the former’s bed, arms and legs entangled. Flug had his head tucked under the eldritch’s chin, and was just breathing him in. The doctor had removed his bag, and so Blackhat could smell the honey almond shampoo he used.

There were words that could have been said, but remained unspoken. With the way that both parties had struggled to communicate that night, they decided it was best to let their actions speaks for themselves. Falling asleep to the soft inhale and exhale of the other was healing for both of them.

Hey I had 3 requests for 39 so I combined them all together to make this for all of you!

These are the other two asks I got if you’re one of the anons that asked for this request! Anon friend, I really really appreciate the compliments, and I’m really glad you stopped in my inbox and the long ask if just fine! I love you, and I hope you enjoy this request! Thank you!

#villainous #paperhat #dr flug #black hat #my writing #anon #ask

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