#holds them gently while shaking violently with too many feelings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imsimpin04 · 2 years

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How Twisted Wonderland characters would react if you died and they were the ones that found your body (while you're dating)

tw: death, implied character suicide, self-deprecation

1. Heartslabyul

1) Riddle Rosehearts

has an absolute mental breakdown, doesn't register what's happening after that moment

holds you while muttering to himself how you're going to be okay, over and over again

starts to sob quietly, his head buried in your neck, completely blocking out everything, except the feeling of your body in his hands

"I followed all the rules, so why...why did this happen?"

2) Ace Trappola

is confused for a second, why are you lying over there, plus you're so...still

first gently shakes you, when you don't react he starts shaking you more violently, and starts yelling at you to open your eyes

Trey and Cater have to pull him away from your body, all the while he's still tearing his throat out for you, only this time with tears streaming down his face

"Wake up! Wake up, damn you!"

3) Deuce Spade

he lies down next to you and, probably, doesn't even realize it for a good five minutes

only when you've never made even the smallest movement he realizes that something...might be wrong

sits up and softly touches your face, slowly starting to realize, as tears make their way to his eyes

"Hey...hey, say something..."

4) Trey Clover

he was looking all over for you, he just remembered that he wanted to share with you some very important and good news

finally finds you after a while, to see you asleep? Doesn't really want to wake you, but his gut feeling is screaming that something's off

when he realizes you aren't breathing he takes in a deep shaky breath, as his vision starts to blur...

"Damn it...if only I got here sooner"

5) Cater Diamond

comes up to you with a smile, and is about to kiss you, when he sees that you're a bit...pale and asks if you're okay

when you don't respond he touches your cheek only for your head to fall limply to the other side

at that moment he looked as pale as you, as he shakes you gently, attempting to wake you up, as fresh tears fell from his eyes and onto your face

"No, no, no, no, don't leave me...please...."

2. Savanaclaw

1) Leona Kingscholar

as he approaches you, he immediately knows that something's wrong, and despite himself, he breaks out into a slow run towards you

as he bends down, he realizes that what's wrong is the fact that he can't hear a heartbeat coming from you

his nails dug into his palms, as he tried not to scream, and after a shaky breath, he released them only to pull your body closer and kiss the side of your head, as a stray tear fell down his face, and more soon followed

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...I failed you"

2) Jack Howl

sees you sprawled out in the grass, as he nears you he notices one very important fact, you're not breathing

at first he tries giving you first aid, but as minutes pass and you don't start breathing he gets more and more desperate

until, finally, Ruggie pulls him away, making him sit down on the grass next to you, he covers his face with his hands as tears threaten to overflow

"I should have been here...I should have done something"

3) Ruggie Bucchi

one touch of your cold body had him thinking of the worst, he's seen this happen so many times

everything was so so blurry, everything was too hazy, so he closed his eyes hopping it was all a bad dream even though he knew it wasn't

firmly holding your body in his arms, he leaned his forehead against yours, as he rocked himself back and forth

"It's okay, it's okay...I got you now"

3. Octavinelle

1) Azul Ashengrotto

he realized what had happened way sooner than he'd like, but only if he didn't, only if he could go back in time when you were still with him

he kissed your cold hands then leaned down to place two kisses on your unmoving eyes

he held your hand, pressing it against his face as new tears just kept on coming, hoping to forget for even just a second

"Won't you come back to me?"

2) Jade Leech

at first jade seemed...composed, but as he neared your body, slowly that composure started to crumble, as his face became a grimace, holding back tears

when he reached your body he couldn't stop his knees from giving in, and collapsing next to you as his shoulders shook from the silent crying

he bent over your dead body, sobbing into your chest, his hands balled into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms, as a way to stop him from crying out

"Damn this world that took you from me"

3) Floyd Leech

he thought it was a prank at first, so he...he didn't really think it was a prank, he just didn't want to believe it

he started shaking your body back and forth with a pained smile, yelling that he knew it was a prank, that you should give it up now, his voice so strained that it started to break

Jade ended up pulling him away, which led to Floyd, for the first time in his life, punching his brother, after that he broke down like a child, crawling back to your cold body in search of some comfort

"Cruel! Your pranks are too cruel! Give them up already!"

4. Scarabia

1) Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim has never really been the one to hide his emotions, he just never knew how, because of that, emotions often hit him harder than others

so when he saw your dead body it was like he just overloaded, and turned completely blank, as his eyes looked soulless, as if he was nothing more than a doll

only once he came in contact with your body did he start to cry, crying like a man possessed

"You can't just leave like this!...Please don't leave like this"

2) Jamil Viper

he knelt down next to your body, putting a hand over your eyes trying to stay calm

but 2 seconds of contact with your body and he's already slammed his fist on the ground so many times it was bleeding, and probably even broken

his body is half bent over yours, a hand over your eyes, the other hand is on his mouth stopping him from screaming at the top of his lungs, only sobbing quietly

"Why...why did this happen?"

5. Pomefiore

1) Vil Schoenheit

this was the first time Vil forgot to keep up appearance, as he jogged with a look of disbelief on his face

he stood frozen in front of your body for a second, like his mind couldn't register what he was seeing

after it finally sank in, he covered his mouth with both of his hands, as tears started streaming down, for some reason he felt sick to his stomach, he just couldn't accept the fact that you were gone

"This is just a nightmare...a nightmare that will go away when I wake up"

2) Epel Felmier

stares blankly at you, doesn't register what's happening, until Rook gently tries to move him away from you, at which point he just barrels past him

he touches you slowly with shaking hands, when he finally acknowledges you're dead, he starts cursing with tears in his eyes

feels so fucking angry and confused that he doesn't know what to do with himself

"Damn it, damn it! Curse the reason this happened to you!"

3) Rook Hunt

Rook's a hunter, so you can say he was used to death, but then why did it feel like this? It never felt like this...

he scoops you up into his arms, gently caressing your hair, whispering words of comfort, with a quiet sniffle here and there

but slowly, slowly his mind gets more and more carried away until he can find no more words to say, only crying his heart out for the one he's lost

"Why did you leave before me to the Eternal hunting grounds?"

6. Ignihyde

1) Idia Shroud

you promised, you promised you wouldn't leave him, so then why... why are you gone now?

why is he here, begging you to come back, don't you hear him? Why aren't you coming back?

he cries and cries so much, holding you, until the line snaps and he decide that he can't be without you after all

"I'll bring you back...you're going to be fine, because I'm going to bring you back"

2) Ortho Shroud (platonic)

he was so confused when he felt a liquid going down his face, his hand touched to spot as he looked at the little bit of water on the tip of his fingers

was he...crying? If he were to be honest he didn't think he was capable of feeling anything for anyone other than his brother, but here he was crying for you

but it seems he had realized it a little bit too late, as you were already gone, and the only thing he could do was curl up next to your cold body and cry

"Why was I so stupid not to realize it?"

7. Diasomnia

1) Malleus Draconia

the child of man was fragile, he was perfectly aware of that, so why did he get so careless with your protection, especially when you were so dear to him

why was he here, with your now lifeless body in his hands, wondering what the hell led to this

why was it so hard to stop the tears, and why was even a small thought of your smile, that once brought him so much joy, now so painful

"I swear, I will burn down this world that took you so soon"

2) Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia has been around for a long time, he has seen many people come and go, but to him you were different

you were someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, even though he couldn't grow old, he decided you were going to be the one he died with

but that was supposed to be years in the future, so why...why was your cold, soulless body in front of him? But at the end of the day it didn't matter, he made his decision long ago

"Don't worry my love, I shall join you soon"

3) Silver

a knight, that's what he was supposed to be, a knight that protected others...what a joke

he couldn't even protect the person closest to him, he didn't even know what happened, did he sleep through it? Was he just not aware?

in the end it didn't matter, you were still gone, and he was still here, kissing your cold hands and crying his heart for the one he lost too soon

"I'm sorry, I'm such a failure, I'm so sorry"

3) Sebek Zigvolt

he approached you with full intent to yell at you for just lying around like that, even Silver knew that you couldn't sleep anywhere

he was just about to start yelling when he noticed you were pale...too pale, stating to be a little worried that you didn't maybe pass out, he found himself in complete shock, when his hand touched your cheek, that you were, in fact, ice cold

he was yelling for help immediately, but the moment Lilia looked at him sadly, he knew, he knew but choose to ignore him, yelling for someone to help again, but accepting it soon after and only quietly pulling your body closer, as tears started to form

"I should've done something, I should've protected you"

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crystalsnow95z · 1 year

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Time for another request. Namjoon was spared from my last food poisoning story but he isn't safe this time and it hits him hard.

Warning: vom!t that's all. Let's get into the story. Feel free to make any suggestions

"Can we stop to get something to eat before the interview? I'm starving hyung.." Taehyung looks at Namjoon with big puppy dog eyes. "I haven't gotten to eat today.."

Namjoon checks the time. "We only got an hour before the interview, are you sure you can't wait?"

"I can wait.." Taehyung says with a pout.

"We can stop somewhere on the way, can't we, Namjoonie-hyung? He won't be able to focus if he's hungry and my stomach is growling, too." Jimin suggests gently.

"Alright, we can stop somewhere, but we have to make it quick. There's a burger place nearby. I'll ask staff if they could get us some." Namjoon gives in to his younger brothers.

"You hardly ate, are you feeling okay?" Jin asks taking the last bite of his burger.

"I'm fine, I'm just not really hungry." Namjoon states. "I ate a lot last night, I'll be fine."

"We're leaving in five minutes." A staff member says knocking on the door.

"Okay!" Namjoon calls to them. "Lunch time is over, it's time to clean up." He orders the others, helping them clean up.

Taehyung shoves a few more fries in his mouth while Namjoon tries to put it away. "You're going to gain weight if you keep eating like that."

"Hobi-hyung, he's picking on me..." Taehyung playfully whines with a fake cry going to the closest big brother, making J-hope giggle, hugging Taehyung close.

"He's been working hard, he'll be okay." J-hope kisses Taehyung on the top of the head lovingly. "Let's get going."

"Namjoon..she asked you a question.." Yoongi gently nudges Namjoon with his elbow whispering.

Namjoon couldn't focus on the interview, his stomach screaming in pain. (Maybe i should've eaten with the others...) He tried to discreetly rub his stomach to try to ease the pain.

"Namjoon-ah.." Yoongi speaks a little louder, Namjoon looks at Yoongi who gestures at the interviewer holding the mic to him.

Namjoon quickly looks at the woman standing in front of him, bowing deeply. "{I'm sorry, but could you repeat the question..}"

"{I asked how many countries you are visiting for on your tour. I know there are three different cities you are visiting in the US.}" The woman repeats.

"{We are going to five other countries after we leave the US..}" Namjoon answers.

"{We are going to Brazil next, then Germany.}" Yoongi draws the attention away from Namjoon.

He feels someone grab his hand, looking down to see Taehyungs slender fingers wrap around.

"Hyung you're shaking.." Taehyung whispers. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be okay. Focus on the reporter...we don't want to be rude.." Namjoon gives his hand a squeeze leaning a bit against him.

J-hope glares at their translator, motioning for them to translate. Jin moves in front of him, blocking him from the reporters view to stop her from asking him anymore questions.

The interview went smoothly thanks to the members handling the situation. Namjoon cheered loudly when the members cheered, even though he wasn't concentrating on the conversation. (I have to keep smiling.. I don't want to worry, army..)

J-hope tucks his arm in the crook of Namjoons elbow, the group moving quickly to get him away from all the camera flashes.

Namjoon finally lets his smile drop when they enter the waiting room. His voice comes out small only being heard by J-hope."I think I'm going to throw up.." As soon as he spoke, a wet burp escaped him. Namjoon covers his mouth, trying to hold in the bile thar rose up his throat. Jin helps him into a chair, "Jungukk get the wastebin."

Jungkook quickly looks for a waste bin, bringing it to Namjoon. "Here, hyung."

Namjoon holds it close to his chest, his dinner from last night coming back up again. It comes out in violent heaves, leaving him feeling weak and dizzy. Anytime he tried to gasp to get air, his stomach stopped him, adding more mostly digested food into the bin. The acid tang burned his throat, making him cough.

"Poor Joon.. he's really sick.." Jin keeps his hands firmly on Namjoon's shoulders to keep him from falling forward, feeling him trembling. "He can't perform tonight.."

"We will have to have someone cover his parts or-"

"No..no I can do it.. it's just two songs.." Namjoon interrupts J-hope, shakily sitting up, trying to catch his breath.

"Namjoonie, are you sure? You shouldn't push yourself." J-hope looks at him with worried eyes.

"Yes, I'm feeling better now.. I can do it.." Namjoon places the trash bin on the floor.

Jimin hands Namjoon a tissue box. "I don't think you should perform. You don't look like you're feeling better.."

"I can do it.." Namjoon tried so sound more confident than he felt, trying his best to wipe the sweat and vomit from his face. (My right side hurts every time I breathe.. I need to get my breathing under control..)

"I'll trust you.. but try to take it easy when you perform. You should sit and perform instead of dancing."J-hope says, rubbing his back.

"I'm okay. Really." Namjoon insisted. "It's probably just because I didn't eat today.. I'll eat right after the performance.." (I don't want to disappoint army..)

J-hope hugs him from behind. "You're so stubborn. If you really think you can do it I won't stop you, but I'll At least get them to put a chair on stage just in case, but if you throw up again before we go on I'm pulling you from the performance. I'm serious."

The boys quickly got their makeup touched up before going into the audience to watch the others perform. Namjoon puts on a face mask to try to hide his face, and Taehyung takes a hat from his bag putting it on him.

"They'll have to style my hair again.."

"I'll apologize to them. I just don't want the camera to focus on you.." Taehyung takes Namjoon by the hand putting him in the middle of him and Jin.

They didn't get to sit for long before the group was called on stage to accept an award announcing them as the winner. Yoongi puts a hand on his shoulder as they walk. They give the award to Namjoon and try to pass him the mic, but J-hope reaches for it instead.

"AAMMMIII..." He yells into the mic, drawing the attention to himself. Jin and Jungkook stand to block Namjoon from view, and Yoongi speaks next, trying to mimic the speech Namjoon was reciting to himself in the car.

Namjoon leans his chin on Jin, a wave of vertigo blurring his vision. Jungkook takes Namjoon's hand, leading him off the stage. Namjoon nearly tripped going down the steps, Jin steadying him."It's okay if you can't perform. You don't have to do this. You can hardly handle the steps.."

"I just tripped. I'm okay." Namjoon tells him. (If I keep repeating myself, maybe it'll come true..)

They win three more awards before the performance, the members playing keep away with their leader any time they tried to make him speak. Their performance was next and they went into the green room to get their in ears and mics.

(We're doing the beginning of save me..then switching to I'm fine...) Namjoon let out a dry chuckle at the irony of the situation.

"What's so funny?" Jungkook asks.

"The songs we choose.." Namjoon answers.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit this one out?" J-hope asks again, his voice thick with worry not finding the situation humorous. "It's okay to rest if you have to. Army doesn't want us pushing too hard. If we explain.."

Namjoon shakes his head. "I can do it." (At least.. I hope I can..) His stomach felt a little better, but the medicine the staff gave him was not doing much to help with the nauseous feeling that washed over him as soon as he went under the hot stage lights.

His body moved on instinct, running to his position and getting in sync with the other members. The sound of Army chanting their names gave him strength, but he the jumping made the pain in his stomach return with a vengeance. When he layed down for Jimin's verse he was afraid he wouldn't be able to get back up again, but he forced himself back up, fear washing over him when he remembered he was going to be center for his rap verse.

The members couldn't stop looking in his direction, and when his rap part came he came a second too late, having to do it off beat.

He stopped to try to get back on track, and when he did he heard thousands of voices singing his part with him. Army had joined in with him. Their voices gave him the adrenalin he needed, coming back strong to finish his part.

(I can do this.. we're halfway through.. I just need to hold out a little longer..)He couldn't jump as high as the other members, getting off sync because his feet hit the ground too early. (Sh*t..i can't do this...)Namjoon couldn't help but wrap a hand around his sour stomach when another painful cramp hit, the stress getting to him. (It's J-hope's verse now...) He was glad to stop moving a moment, but when it was his turn to jerk back up he stumbled into J-hope.

J-hope steadied him, helping him back into position, continuing the choreography. Namjoon tries to do the same, but he couldn't focus. His body remembered the steps for him.

"Let me lift V instead." He hears Yoongi whisper, gently nudging him to go into his position.

It took a moment to process what he was saying before it clicked. (Yoongi already had to lift Taehyung once..) it was too late to make any more changes, Yoongi already in position to lift Taehyung.

The two rappers struggled to switch back to the original positions, almost colliding into each other.(Now Yoongi made a mistake because of me. I can't mess up anymore..) Namjoon pushed through the last thirty seconds of the song, feeling his body swaying at the end. He tried to close his eyes to wait for the dizziness to pass, but his knees buckled. Jin quickly grabbed him by the shoulders. J-hope and Jin help him off the stage, moving quickly to get him away from the crowd, going into the green room. "I'm sorry..I did so bad..." Namjoon felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. "I'm gonna throw up..."

Taehyung quickly grabs the waste bin, putting it in front of Namjoon. "You did great for being so sick."

"You did the best you could. I can't believe you actually made it through the whole performance.." J-hope rubs his back as he gets sick. Namjoon had nothing left his his stomach, only acid coming up, making him gag more at the awful taste.

"Don't worry about it. All you can do is give it everything you got. You did that and more." Jin tries to comfort Namjoon, rubbing his tensed shoulders.

"I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have performed.. I should've listened." Namjoon sobbed, burying his face in his hands, then quickly looking up again. "Yoongi-yah.. are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine. Just focus on yourself." Yoongi tried to sound strong, but pain laced his voice, rubbing his shoulder.

"That was quick thinking Yoongi-hyung. I feel stupid for not realizing that would be an issue. I should've done it instead." J-hope praises Yoongi, causing him to blush lightly.

"I was the closest one that could do it so I just followed my instinct. I didn't want him or Taehyung getting hurt." Yoongi dismisses the praise.

"Thanks, Yoongi-hyung.." Namjoon says softly.

Jungkook wipes Namjoon's tears, handing him a water bottle. "Please don't cry hyung. You're going to make me cry.."

Namjoon looks up at the mankae, his eyes already shining with unshed tears. "I'm sorry. I'm fine now.."

"Let's get you home." Jin helps Namjoon get the mic pack and inears off. "I'll make you some jook. You need to eat something."

"I don't think I can eat.." Namjoon responds honestly, taking a small sip of water to try to get rid of the taste in his mouth.

"You have to try at least a little for me. Please at least try.. Okay?" Jin begs

"hyung..." Namjoon's stomach churns at just the thought of food, causing him to gag more bile coming up, cursing under his breath. His eyes water as his stomach tightens, painfully vomiting.

Jin looks around at the others, everyone getting ready to help Namjoon get home, forming a circle like the body guards.

Fans flash photos of the boys while they get to the car, screaming for the boys to try to get their attention. Namjoon struggles just to keep walking forward, the adrenalin that kept him going gone. The six boys form a bubble around him, blocking him from view, them waving wildly and flashing hearts. The body guards are extra protective as well, making sure no one steps a single foot over the ropes.

Jin keeps one hand discreetly around Namjoon's waist to be sure he doesn't fall, and yoongi keeps hold of Namjoon's clammy hand, holding it tight.

"Love you army!" J-hope and Taehyung yell cheerfully over the crowd, bowing and making hearts as Jin and Yoongi help Namjoon into the car, moving him by the window.

"Thank you, army. Love you!" Jungkook joins in making a heart over his head.

The seven boys make it in the car safely, Taehyung and Jungkook waving out the window before rolling it up again.

"It's finally over." Namjoon sighs in relief, leaning his head on Jin.

"You're really warm, Joon.." Jin sucks in air through his teeth, running a hand across Namjoon's forehead into his hair. "You're still sweating, too."

"I'll take a bath when we get back. I don't think I could stand long enough for a shower.." Namjoon closes his eyes tightly, the movement of the car being too much for his stomach to handle. "Please.. stop the car.."

When the driver tries to switch lanes to pull over, the bile already rose up his throat, all color leaving his face.

"It can't wait. Roll down the window!" J-hope orders, Jin rolling down the window and helping Namjoon move to stick his head out. Namjoon gets sick all over the car door, body trembling violently.

"We need to get him to a hospital.. he's going to need an IV at this rate.." Jin says sounding panicked, rubbing Namjoon's back. "Please, take us to a hospital.." He asks the driver.

When they arrive at the hospital Namjoon couldn't walk, needing to sit in a wheelchair as he waits, a nurse gives him a pink bin in case he had to get sick again, and to Namjoon's horror, his stomach tightened, causing him to heave, more sick coming out.

"{Please. No flim. No photo. No post.}" Jin pleads with the people around them in English, taking off his jacket to cover up Namjoon from view.

Security had to usher people away but that didn't stop them from trying to get as much footage as they could before being pushed away.

The hospital is quick to get them in a private room. Jin helps Namjoon onto the bed then helping him undress to put on the gown. The nurse knocks on the door, Jin peeking through the crack before letting her in.

"{Hello I'm Miss. Maple, I'm going to be your nurse today, do you understand?}" She speaks slowly.

"{I'm fluent in English..}" Namjoon explains to her, voice shaking.

Jin held Namjoon's hand as he spoke with the nurse, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles. "It's okay if you need to cry." He whispers. "She'll understand."

Namjoon shakes his head, elbowing Jin softly, not letting his emotions out until she leaves the room to get an IV bag.

"It's going to be everywhere.." Namjoon whimpers, hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

"No it won't. I'll make sure of it even if I have to report every video myself." Jin tells him. "The company will handle it. The other members are already on it too. We will get this taken care of. You just focus on getting better." Jin wipes the tears from Namjoon's face, pulling a small pack of tissues from his bag. "You got snot all over your face." Jin tuts, cleaning up his nose. "It's not that big of a deal. Everyone gets sick."

"I'm sorry Hyung.." Namjoon sniffles, trying to stop.

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Just try to rest some while we wait for the nurse. You look exhausted." Jin gives him a soft kiss on the forehead.

Namjoon went back to the hotel after two IV bags, the doctor confirming it's just food poisoning. Namjoon felt safer at the hotel where the other members were not wanting to spend a night alone in the hospital.

To his surprise when Jin lead him back to his room to rest for the night, the other five members were in his room.

"Namjoonie-hyung!" Jungkook was the first to go greet him, hugging him lightly. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A little..what are you doing in here..?" Namjoon asks

"I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep until I saw you in person, and the others felt the same." Taehyung answers, taking his turn to hug onto Namjoon.

"I want to show you something!" J-hope says, pulling up something on his laptop. When Namjoon went over to see what he was talking about he saw it was Twitter. He was trending all over Twitter, but he didn't see a single clip of him getting sick. Twitter was flooded with get well messages and praise.

"All the platforms are like this. The company put out a warning about filming our private moments, but it looks like Army has your back, too. If the clips are out there, they are getting reported so fast I haven't seen them." J-hope gets up, hugging Namjoon. "You have no reason to worry. Everyone understands."

Relief washes over Namjoon, sighing in relief.

"Now that you're feeling better mentally, let's work on physically. You need to rest, but first, could you at least eat this banana or some applesauce? Just something small so you have something in your stomach..?" Jimin asks with worry plastered on his face. "I read it's good for when you've been throwing up."

"Alright.. I'll try, but after you guys need to get to bed. You look dead on your feet." Namjoon peels the banana open, taking a bite to appease the young vocalist.

Namjoon lays in bed, regretting his decision to please Jimin, but he wasn't worried about being sick anymore.

(They all handled the situation so well.. I'm so proud to be a part of this team, and army.. They were quick to defend me..)

Namjoon rushes to go throw up again, just barely having the strength to sit up. As he throws up the mush that was once a banana, another wave of dizziness makes it hard to stay sitting up.

When starts falling, he feels an arm stop him. "I got you.." J-hope coos. "It's okay.."

"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to wake you.."Namjoon apologizes.

J-hope tuts his tongue at him. "Stop being sorry. I'd much rather you wake me up than you suffer alone.. I love you Namjoon. I don't mind losing sleep to take care of you. If any of us were worried about you waking us up we would've just went to our hotel rooms. Let's get you back to bed, okay. Hyung could you help?"

Namjoon looks up to see who he's talking to, Jin leaning down to help him up. He leads him back to his bed that the three youngest members took over, Taehyung holding out his arms to Namjoon.

Namjoon wasn't usually the cuddly type, but with how awful he was feeling he felt needy for human contact, feeling comforted by the warmth of his old roommate's body and his steady heart beat as he lays on his chest.

"Don't get used to this Tae.." Namjoon says with a yawn.

"I won't.. I love you Namjoonie-hyung..I hope you get better soon..." Taehyung rubs Namjoon's stomach, whispering softly.

Namjoon falls asleep quickly after murmuring a soft, 'I love you..' Back to him, finally falling into the deep sleep he desperately needed.

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eluxcastar · 2 years

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Urd as a yandere (remake)

── ୨୧：urd geales x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: many people have left urd over the years, all with the single common thread that he was unable to stop them whether through his weakness or simply circumstance, time, motive. why allow them the opportunity at all?

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, yandere, implied kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, themes of abuse, suicide ideation, stockholm syndrome, descriptions of violence, implied dubcon, urd is in no universe all there, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 2.9k

aaa the trap of remastering my old posts. I rather liked the idea behind this one so I thought it would be the perfect candidate for a rewrite.

this entire thing is basically that one edited sound of mary on a cross like "you scare me" but you have been fed urd nation (*￣︶￣)

original

you think by now you would have memorised the sound of his footsteps, and for the most part you can tell when he's near. You always know. He has a very strict rule on this room, you've overheard it several times from the whispered just outside. He has forbidden all entry under any circumstances, and nobody dares stand against him.

you used to claw at the door, at the gap where the light of the hall cracks though, look around the room for any sign of something you could use to try to pry the door open by chipping away at the deadbolt. When that didn't appear to have any affect you turned to the keyhole, which didn't want to budge either. You're caught in what he views as an escape attempt, as the door handle clicks with the sound of the lock, and you scurry back just too little too late.

he yanks you harshly up from the floor by your arm, which feels like it's under so much pressure he'll break it—he's furious and you can tell. It's like taking a bullet to see someone you used to love so helplessly grow so utterly bitter, so hateful towards you. To throw you at the bed he keeps you confined in and has already stained red with your blood. You used to be built up by him, and now he begins the process of breaking you down. Every piece of your sanity is tested over and over and over again until you shy away in fear like a little child, only to be touched by the hand of the monster that keeps you.

while your sanity is being tested, you suspect that his is far gone. No sane person can pull you so gently back to thinking you are safe, whispering and shushing you until your heartbeat evens out as much as your adrenaline rush will allow, only to have the sound of your heartbeat replaced by a sickening crack as he breaks the metacarpal bone of one your fingers cleanly in half at the body.

you can't help how violently you flinch as he takes the hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing it gently, though not gently enough as you make a noise half like a cry but reminiscent of a scream. "You're only on your first strike, so the pain is all over now." the whisper of those words is far from reassuring.

the shaking of your whole body is uncontrollable, so racked with a feeling you can't even describe anymore that keeping your hand steady while he tends to your little broken bone so pathetic it will take several weeks to heal. You sit in his lap, he makes you. You have to let him hold your hand, and wrap your finger up securely where it will heal in due time. You can't help shifting uncomfortably, even when he makes a remark about how he's so glad you're letting him help.

it makes you feel so sick to your stomach you deny his attempts to feed you later that evening, turning your head away in an act of stark defiance. You won't allow him anymore gratitude out of his own disturbed actions.

you realise quickly why specifically he broke the finger he did—the ring finger on your dominant hand—all tracks would need to be performed in some way involving that finger even minimally. It hurts when you move it, it hurts when you eat because of the pressure applied to it even by a spoon, it hurts when you try to pick up your little instrument again and place it back where you found it, utterly defeated.

it hurts you to curl back into your ball, lost and falling apart, and you begin to wonder if escape is possible. How could you and your frail and ailing little body ever make it last a confrontation with a monster, able to hear your every move and know your very whereabouts with only his senses. You don't even know how you got to this point, rocking yourself to the tune of an old nursery rhyme you used to hear a lot wishing for your innocent back, the ignorance and bliss that you lost, the freedom—you are a little bird in a cage, a wolf sleeping just outside.

in order for you to be what he envisions you have to lose your vision of you, stripped of everything in your life that brought you joy in order to be the source of someone else's sick perversion of happiness.

you incur a second wrath is after a stint of good behaviour, a direct result of having no chance of getting away when one of your fingers is broken. Still, he rewards you with things he much consider privileges, allowing you to leave your room under his careful supervision for what started as a mere hour, but you have since managed to extend that time to something more like 'whenever he remembers to take you back'. He doesn't watch the clock.

you made the mistake of opening a window while he had stepped out of the room, feeling it was getting stuffy and you would like a small moment of nothing clean fresh air filling your lungs and refreshing your body after you had spent so long inside. He didn't snap so quickly, but the jolt of being yanked away from the barely open window you were making no attempt to get out of startled you to your core, another rush of adrenaline so strong it made your spine tingle.

you try, oh you try so desperately but you are still a little bird in the arms of your greatest predators. Thrashing doesn't help, and yet you thrash until he holds you so tightly against him you physically can't move anymore. "No, no! I didn't-- I wasn't trying to get out! I swear I just wanted fresh air! I was--" he only covers your mouth in response.

he sighs, something you can't quite read, but then he eases the grip he has on you. "Are you so unhappy with me you would kill yourself to escape?"

you realise in that very moment you would have to say things you can't even stand to think, things you never want to think. "No, no. No I'm very…" you hold back the grimace you want to show, "…happy." You touch a hand up to his face, stroking his cheek with his thumb in your singular act of a sick affection. For the first time, you manage to keep him from punishing you.

you think if you have to stare at one more wall or ceiling blank with nothing but wood panels or old wallpaper you'll start to lose your mind, and so you begin to make yourself comfortable by the window inch by inch until he allows it with a growing trust in you thanks to the routine you've come to figure out over the past days, a way to keep yourself safe.

wait patiently in the morning when he comes to see you before work. Then, beg to come with him while you hold onto whatever part of him is closest with your good hand, even if that would be his coat. He lets you go with him if he's not going out, and these days he's starting to ask you, and only brushes you off if you can't. When you show interest in spending time with him he doesn't punish you for the circumstances outside of your control.

if you can't get out, go back to sleep and wait until he returns. He'll usually be angry due to the pent up frustration he has a bad habit of building from keeping all his emotions in, even as the people around him become insufferable. He may come to your door, but it's not uncommon that he goes straight back to work. If he's at your door, talk to him gently like you always used to.

on good days, you can get out, so you follow behind him like an obedient dog until you get there. If you need to you've discovered he's quite easily distracted by a quick kiss on the cheek. All of these things of course awaken every ounce of disgust you have in you, something that still etches away at your sanity, still dwindling and dwindling. You haven't by any means come to term with the fact you're stuck here, and that there's no way to escape him even if you really were to squirm your way through the window and jump. A part of you wonders what he'd do though; is he so obsessed with you that he'd nurse you back to health? Or maybe he'd just turn you into a Vampire so you'd be tied to him for eternity. Suffice it to say you don't have much in the way of intentions of jumping out of the window, so you resign yourself to sit quietly and watch.

he doesn't bother you there, not unless he wants to see how your broken fingers are healing, counting one then two and then a third on your other hand, finally you see a fourth. Was that how many times you'd been held down? When you try to think back to it, only the memories of the first time come back to you, and yet you can see right in front of your face the four dark bruises across both of your hands to prove it did happen. It doesn't hurt as much to feel him place a kiss on one of your fingers, just as he had after the first time he broke one, as if trying in vain to nurse you back to health with perhaps what he viewed as a true love's kiss, a little fairytale fantasy plot that wouldn't be coming true to please him.

you let him believe it, that you don't care anymore how much he puts his hands all over you, that you're grateful for him taking small amounts of time from his day as he lets his affections grow bolder. You try not to let your discomfort show every time he oversteps. You just…kill every emotion that isn't shallow happiness, and it comes from a place of relief that even as you lay in his bed the most violated you've ever felt by his fangs, he's not hurting you physically.

you think you might break down any day now, cry and scream for human contact, for affection that doesn't make you taste bile in the back of your throat, for freedom and a chance to do something without having to ask your own captor for it like you're his doting lover. You shouldn't have thought about that while he was home, not where he would hear you on the one day you had decided you were going to deny his advances and say you were too tired from a restless night. To your surprise, his first instinct was to tuck you back into bed and kiss your forehead, not to lash out at you.

it couldn't have been more than an hour before you lost any semblance of composure you had carefully gathered and we're moulding yourself to embody, to become everything he wanted of you just to protect yourself. You're beginning to realise careful planning and emotional control can't shake your emotions completely, and you've bottled them so tightly inside they all come gushing out at once as you sob into your pillow in a singular moment of utter defeat, the beginning of your bitter end.

that was the first time you allowed him your body without too much of a fight, and the first time he wouldn't give in to your initial defiance as he coaxed you back to comfort and lulled you into a sense of overwhelming safety and protection.

a piece of you may have died in that room that day, never to return again.

you body is…bruised, but not broken. You begin to see the remnants of care in him, how gentle he was, the fact he's given you so much leniency for a kidnapper— you quickly shake it away to remind yourself to hate this man for everything he's done to you, the mental torment you have to go through in order to justify the things he does to you. You can barely bring yourself to get out of bed, even if you stopped fighting him and gave in you can't shake the feeling of guilt, like you were enjoying the fact that you just got to feel like you weren't being held captive for a little while. Somehow you got yourself into thinking about it like a fun and innocent tryst, something that embodied the way you used to be when you snuck around together and just laughed at all the things you did.

you used to be young and innocent, filled to the brim with all your ignorance and bliss to the way he thought of you, that he could've been fantasising the way you would be as his lover, and eventually all of the things he would do to you once he had you one way or the other. It's all gone, everything is gone. The people in your life and the rest of the world moved one without you, you have been stripped away of everything you ever held dear, then stripped of the very things that made your self. He has finally taken everything from you, and it was all replaced with nothing but him.

his lies, his habits, his schedule, his routine, his preferences, his wants and his needs and his fantasies are all burned into your brain like a scar you'll never be able to get rid of, only cover up and hide from the world, always knowing it's there. Everything you ever loved is disappearing day by day, and you can't remember or even imagine your life before, what it would be like to finally curl up in your own bed, relish in the smell of your own home and in the things that used to be yours, keepsakes and memories that belong to that house all covered in dust by now.

you will never feel loved by another human again, and even if you manage to escape him, you are far too broken to be loved. You can't picture a peaceful life in your mind where you're not constantly afraid, where you are finally experiencing love in its purest form, but the more you try to fantasise such a life the one you're living currently nestled itself in the back of your mind, and it makes you wonder the more you think about it—about love. What he's doing…could that be love in its purest form like you think you want? You think about the purest form of love, his attention is all on you, his claims of never being able to love another, a man you thought you respected reduced to a quivering pile of anxieties about you leaving him, so his unadulterated love makes him capture you. Being the object of affections you so desperately crave is exactly what you receive, gentle and loving, and only when you have acted to squander his love have you felt the wrath of it.

if you want a love so pure, you have someone devoting their everything to you right outside that door, because for as much as he has entangled you in his world, he is completely captured in yours…yes, this is the pure love you want in this world. The love of a man who fights even you just for one more chance to prove he can love you, the love of someone who chases and never stops. People always say you have to make some sacrifices in love, and compromise on things.

you take the pillow you had come to find comfort in, and after days you finally come out of hiding. The hallway you step into dark with only the faint light from under one of the doors to guide you to where you want to go, to the room you had become acquainted with a few times before. This room where he waits for you in the times he would've spent with you, sensing you needed space.

it's like a dream to hear the door open, and to look up to see you close the door behind you, pillow under your arm as you make your way over and place it down on the other side of the bed before you crawl in, snug under the comfort of his sheets. His whole house smells like him, but his bed unimaginably so, or perhaps that's just him on the other side of it as he rolls over to take you in his arms and let you find a comfortable spot. It feels surreal to be here like this, feeling the warmth of love just like you wanted, from the person you had denied it from due to your own stubborn conscience.

you feel a little silly, but hearing him whisper that he always knew you'd come back when you were ready before he kisses your forehead and wishes you pleasant dreams eases that feeling into comfort, and in the wake of your breakdown you feel safe again.

#✦ — scenarios.#mm tasty remake #served hot and fresh #sorry 💀#owari no seraph manga #owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #sote #urd #urd geales #urd x reader #urd geales x reader #owari no seraph x reader #seraph of the end x reader

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cepheusgalaxy · 8 days

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Gwilym pressed himself into the corner of his cell, tucking his limbs into his body as close as he could. His bony knees pressed into his chin. His thin arms were squished behind him. His wings were held down with the band around his chest anyway, but the exposed parts flattened completely against his back.

He might have accepted what Yorath was going to do to him and prepared himself for it, but that didn’t mean he would make it easy.

Still a fighter. Yorath had muttered that last time. Gwilym held those words close and took them for his own.

Still a fighter.

“Do you know why I hurt you, Gwilym?” asked Yorath.

“Because I tried to kill you twice and blew up three rooms and you like it when I scream and you especially like it if you can make me beg,” said Gwilym, his voice quiet and raspy from disuse and dehydration. He had learned to speak despite the discomfort it caused him.

He had learned a lot of uncomfortable things.

“Do you know why I enjoy hurting you specifically?”

Gwilym shook his head. Because he healed fast?

Anything to keep him talking and delay the pain.

“Because through hurting you I hurt Eirlys,” said Yorath. “You burn. Far away, safe at home, Fen screams. Eirlys is powerless to do anything about it. You, as a person, are insignificant. You don’t matter. I’d have killed you within days if not for your connection to Eirlys. Your Fen wouldn’t have been allowed to go home if he were anyone else’s son or were you not soul-bonded. Your crimes merit execution, but I let you live for this.”

“Why Eirlys?”

Keep him talking.

Yorath rested the flat of his knife- not iron this time, thank Brân- against Gwilym’s cheek. “If someone caused the death of your child, wouldn’t you do anything you could to make that person responsible hurt?”

He sliced down.

Gwilym didn’t scream. He never screamed at the first cut. Yorath knew this.

Every time, they played the game of finding out at what point Gwilym would scream this time, at what point his survival mechanism of going limp and hiding inside himself would kick in, if and when he would start begging, at what point he would stop begging to preserve his little remaining strength and give up completely, at what point he would pass out from the pain and the constant use of his magic. The game of finding out how many times his body could be destroyed and he would still come back from it.

It was a game for Yorath, at least. For Gwilym, it was a repetition of the most traumatic things to ever happen to him, an exercise in self-control, a discovery of what exactly his magic could do and what his body and mind could take. A discovery of at what point he would try- fail- to kill himself this time.

He hated his magic. He hated how it kept him alive. He hated how it healed him so fast, over and over, and gave Yorath more opportunity and time to inflict pain.

He wanted to die. He wanted it to end.

The second cut came. Precise, measured, planned, removing skin from his face while preserving the wasting-away muscle beneath it. “Right now, Fen will feel his face stinging. He’ll know what’s coming next. He’ll know or guess that you’re being skinned again. He’ll cry and scream and curse his inability to do anything to save you. Eirlys will hold him and think of me and know what I’m doing to you and why.”

Gwilym still didn’t scream, but he was breathing fast now, too fast, his chained hands shaking violently behind him.

He pushed his face into his knees, slicing himself on the knife against his cheek as he moved. The small, bleeding, skinless portion stung when it touched his grimy pants.

It was already healing over.

This would be the second time his skin would have to completely regenerate. The second time Yorath skinned him alive.

Maybe it meant the iron would come out. He grabbed for even the smaller bit of hope now, things like maybe he’ll forget or maybe it will only be blunt.

Yorath twisted his hand in Gwilym’s hair and pulled his head up, horribly and deceptively gently. “Hiding already? We’ve barely gotten started.”

A broken sob came from Gwilym’s chest.

Yorath sat down in front of him, crossing his legs, a cruel grin on his face. He spread out his tools between them.

[Image description: A reaction image. It shows a drawing of an emoji-like guy beating their fists on the table and banging their head to it too, excitedly. /end ID.]

omg.....................hes crying...............

#tw sui ideation #whump #others writing #aromanticsky #im exploding with joy rn #you send angel asks??#you send angel 12 asks???#HEARTS for mutual!! hearts for mutual for a thousand years!!#my fav webtoon also updated (it almost never does)#and i found a series to read and a free library site in the very day i organized my reading list #^^#i just imagine fen atm #this is SO *good*#like this might suck ass lmao #ask to tag #omg that last line-------#and also “A broken sob came from Gwilym’s chest.”#this #everything

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brayscharitycase · 6 months

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Petra Venj slowed as the sight of two bodies caught her attention; and not Eliksni bodies, but Guardians. Both were familiar, though one much more so.

Cayde-Six, the Hunter Vanguard, laid dead on the floor. One limp hand was still cradling the other Guardian’s head, holding it in the darkness to the still chest.

Corinth didn’t look up as she approached, not even as she kneeled down next to him. He didn’t want to leave. If he left it would be admitting it was over, that Cayde was dead. That this wasn’t a nightmare.

Petra gently removed the dead hand from the young Guardian’s neck, laying it respectfully on the corpses’ chest. She looks for the familiar white and black gun, to place in the still hands, and she growls when she finds nothing. “He took the gun too.” Is all she says, feeling misery welling up in her chest, like water threatening to overtake a dam. No, she had to be strong. At least for a little while longer; there would be time to mourn later.

Corinth hadn’t moved an inch, his head still pressed to the gap between chin and chest, as if listening desperately for the hint of a spark, or a hiss of electricity through wires; praying for something to mask the horrible silence. Cayde was never silent, never. He couldn’t be now.

He couldn’t.

The young Hunter’s shoulders shake violently, a little eruption threatening total destruction.

She wished he hadn’t been here for this. Cayde had been insistent on the kid joining them, to give him some ‘real world experience’ and ‘get him out of the Tower’. And while she’d agreed, hell two Guardians were always better than one, she now felt a gut wrenching sense of guilt rising up from her stomach. If she’d just have said no..

Carefully, Petra unclips the cape dangling from her shoulders, gently wrapping it around those heaving shoulders. “It’s not your fault,” is all she can say for a moment, as the Exo throws himself into her arms, sparking tears running down his face; mask long since casted off. “Look at me, it’s not your fault, okay? You did better than I did. You did amazing. It’s not your fault.”

Her hands grasp the child-Exo’s shoulders, firmly pushing him away, to look her in the eye. “It’s not your fault, Corinth. It’s Uldren Sov’s fault. Don’t ever forget that.”

Her words were firm, but she lets the young Hunter fall against her again, patting his back. She could feel tears pricking at her own eye, and she blinks furiously to push them back.

“Let’s get you out of here. I’ll come back with some Corsairs to get..” her words break as she looks back at the body.

The Queen’s Wrath had seen many bodies in her time, and while all of them had been awful to see, there were only a few that hit as hard as seeing Cayde’s; of seeing the death of someone she had admired so much.

She stands slowly, offering Corinth her hands to steady himself, but he didn’t get up, unable to force his legs to move, to carry his heavy weight.

“I can’t.” He sobs, spark-tears threatening to ignite the remnants of ether clinging to his faceplates. “I can’t, Petra. I can’t leave him.”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry.” She leans down, using her cape around his shoulders to wipe away the staining ether. “But we need to get out of here.”

The kid suddenly stood bolt upright, looking past the body, towards the shattered wall that Cayde had been flung through.

He runs then, as fast as his leadened legs could stumble him forward, through the gap, frantically looking for something on the ground.

“Corinth? What are- we need to go! Before the wall collapses!”

Corinth didn’t pay Petra’s words any heed, searching incessantly. Finally, he stoops down, picking several pieces from the ground. He steps out from the rubble, walking solemnly to Petra with the shattered remains of Sundance; Cayde’s faithful Ghost.

“Okay.” He murmurs, numbly. “Let’s go.”

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bowuigifire · 11 months

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BURN FOR YOU 🔥💚

SUMMARY: Luigi found himself in a strange alien world, alone and terrified. But perhaps this place isn't so bad?

CHAPTER 6:

A chill passed through Luigi's body, his blue eyes looking from side to side, searching for something. Someone. He is surrounded by darkness and silence, a bad feeling in his gut. "Mario," he called, "per favore, where are you?" His voice echoed.

He had been walking for what seems hours, still searching for his brother. A strange strong breeze that appeared out of nowhere crashed against his body, making him shudder violently. He doesn't know where he is. Where's Mario? He wants to go home. But where is home?

Trembling, he wrapped his arms around his own body in an attempt to warm himself. "Please, someone, help. Aiuto!" White smoke came from his blue lips, weak, broken. He kept calling, walking aimlessly, but eventually his legs stopped working and he collapsed painfully against the black floor. He's alone, now, as he always feared he would be. Despite that, he called for help one last time with all the strength left in his body.

Wakeup!

"Luigi! Greenie, wake up!" A hand was shaking him, big and warm. The plumber opened his eyes with difficulty, relieved at seeing who it was.

"King Bowser..." was whispered weakly, throat aching. A sob escaped from Luigi’s lips, then, and instinctively he took hold of the paw still in his shoulder in search of comfort and safety. Nightmares weren't anything new to Luigi, his brother always there to reassure him. Mario isn't here now.

"Its okay." The large turtle hushed him. "You're okay. You're safe." He kept reassuring the human while gently stroking his back. "That's it, let it all out." After ten minutes or so, Luigi let go of the koopa, ashamed of having lost control in front of the King. Of anyone, if he had to be honest. Bowser moved to sit next to the human, thankful that all the guest's beds were big enough to fit his much larger size.

"You were screaming. Do you want to talk about it?" Bowser spoke in such a soft voice that it took the green plumber some time to understand it came from him. It didn't help that the nightmare kept repeating in his mind in a loop. He shook his head, too afraid to even mention it out loud. "That's okay. We can just stay in silence until you fall asleep again." Luigi shook his head, opening his mouth to say... He didn't know what, but Bowser beat him to it. "What about some music? Are you up to it?"

This time, Luigi tilted his head up, their eyes meeting. There was curiosity, gratitude and confusion shining on the blue ones. Slowly, he nodded.

"It's decided, then." The koopa stoop up and took the plumber gently into his hands, mindful with his claws. Luigi let out a weak scream at being picked up so suddenly but didn't complain. "Oh. And don't mention this to Kamek. I'm not supposed to be here, ya know?" He teased, causing a chuckle to escape from the human, which caused a smile to form on Bowser.

They were in another huge room, up some stairs that led to a large black piano on a floating platform. The King didn't wait a second to go up and sit down, placing Luigi next to him, red eyes looking at the keys in front of him as he mentally selected a song for the human's enjoyment. Although there were many options, in the end he decided on a quiet one, the moonlight illuminating them as inspiration. Claire DeLune.

And so he began with a few notes, slow but savoring each one of them. One after another, the melody started to relax Luigi, who watched fascinated as the great Koopa's fingers moved gracefully across the keys. He must have practiced a lot, the man thought to himself. The sound around them seems to tell a story. A poem, perhaps. A story from long ago. Sad and beautiful. How could something as simple as this convey so much? Delicate yet deep, full of meaning to couldn't quite understand, just feel. Looking at Bowser, the King had his eyes closed, his bushy brows knitted in concentration. Beautiful, indeed, thought the plumber in awe, his mind already forgetting his nightmare.

They stayed like time for some more songs when Luigi fell asleep against the giant koopa's side. Looking down, Bowser peered down at the human's peaceful features, a familiar sensation filling him. It always calmed him to see his children happy and safe, and now this strange human too. His inner dragon purred in contentment.

In a low voice, the King called Kamek. The Magikoopa appeared unsurprised to notice Luigi sleeping lying against the King.

"I need for you to take him back to his room." Kamek nodded silently making Luigi float to his side when he heard his King call him again. "Any news about his brother?"

The older koopa hesitated to answer but eventually did. "I'm afraid so, sire. He was located in the Mushroom Kingdom, as we predicted. However, Mario - that's his name, - and Princess Peach were... training. I believe they are getting ready for a battle, sire."

"We already knew it would happen." Deflected the other. "Make sure our own troops are ready also." Was all the King said, his attention back to the piano. The music started to sound renewed, ignoring Kamek's questioning gaze. The older koopa shook his head, disappearing with Luigi back to the guest room, Peach not mentioned even once.

Alone with his thoughts yet again, Bowser change the current tune back to Claire DeLune picturing images of Peach smiling sweetly, blue eyes twinkling up at him. Soon they changed to Luigi’s face, the shocking image disrupting the piece in the sudden wrong note that sounded loudly around the room, followed by silence.

"I'm in trouble."

#fireopal-tash #bowuigi #king bowser #luigi mario #bowuigi fanfiction #fanfic #writing #kamek #burn for you

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aerynwrites · 2 years

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Pretend

Jayvik (Divorce Era)

A/N: had this idea while lying in bed - had to get it out lol. Hope y’all enjoy this angsty drabble.

Word count: 681

Warnings: divorce era Jayvik | hurt/no comfort, angst | Jayce regrets his choices | but there’s nothing he can do | civil conversation b/w machine herald!Viktor and Jayce.

The steady sound of water meeting the rocks several stories below is the loudest thing around Jayce. It’s what he wanted, really.

Quiet.

At least as quiet as you can get between Piltover and Zaun. Despite the sun having set hours ago, fading golden light giving way to cool darkness…life is still moving.

Yet his life feels like it’s at a stand still.

This place is familiar. The smooth stone archway holds too many memories to count - good and bad alike.

He tries to focus on the good - even as the all too familiar footsteps approach from behind.

After all these years, even after all the changes he went through - they both went though…he can still tell it’s him. He doesn’t even have to look to his right to know it’s him.

The Machine Herald. His old partner. His old lover. Viktor.

Jayce doesn’t say anything as the man from his past settles on the ledge beside him, a few feet of distance separating them still. It seems like distance is the only thing they share now.

Most people would call him foolish for leaving his hammer cast aside behind him, the hex crystal removed to lay in his palm instead. The faint blue light rises from between his fingers, and he can’t even find it in him to be awed by the magic anymore.

After all, magic has been his undoing.

“What are you doing here, Viktor?”

The name feels foreign on his tongue, but the syllables roll past his lips flawlessly despite not being used in years. Not since he sent him away.

The name must catch its owner off guard as well, the metal man flinching slightly. Part of Jayce wishes he’d take the mask off, just this once.

As if he hears his thoughts, Viktor does just that, the faint metal clicking the only indication that he moves at all.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

The shudder that runs through Jayce is violent, his shoulders shaking visibly as the accented voice he didn’t realize he’d missed so much meets his ears. Unfiltered, not modulated or muffled my metal.

It’s really him.

Finally, Jayce cautions a glance at the man he’s been running from all these years. Finally, looks his greatest mistake in the eyes. Golden eyes that pierce through him.

“I’m…I’m tired, V.” The words come out broken and soft, the old nickname slipping past his lips unintentionally.

But this time Viktor doesn’t flinch. He just watches as the Defender of Tomorrow sags in on himself and he is suddenly cast back decades - to the day he met the man before him.

“Tired of what, Jayce?”

His name, spoken so gently with no trace of the malice he deserves, breaks him. The tears come in a silent torrent and, despite yearning for it, Viktor offers no comfort - just studies him with those piercing eyes.

“Everything.” The word is spoken through tears, and Jayce can’t find it in him to stop. “The council, Hextech, the arcane, being the face of Piltover, fighting you.” He takes a deep breath. “Most of all I’m tired of…of regretting the worst decision I made in my entire life.”

His eyes meet Viktors then, and he can tell when understanding seeps into the other man’s bones.

Neither of them speak for a long time. Jayce’s confession hangs heavy in the air for what feels like hours as the both look over the skyline until Viktor finally speaks.

“I’m tired too.” He finally admits, shrugging his shoulder slightly, the claw above him twitching with the movement. “But you should not dwell on the past, or tire yourself with…regret.” Viktor sighs, twisting the staff in his lap.

“What’s done is done.”

His words are final, leaving no room for response or argument - no room for Jayce to try and fix things like he so desperately wants too.

Instead Jayce turns his eyes back towards the night sky, the light from the city drowning out the stars.

Tomorrow they’ll be enemies again. But for tonight…

Maybe just for tonight, Jayce can pretend they’re not.

#arcane #arcane jayce x arcane viktor #jayce x Viktor #Jayvik #arcane jayce #arcane Viktor

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the-ragingenby · 1 year

Text

Cross-post:

Dear Fellow Traveler

Chapter 3

TW: MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT (nothing graphic)

“Alright, Morgan. Spill it.” Prentiss pulled out a chair and sat next to Morgan, a playful smirk on her face. “You’ve been giggling at your phone like a teenager for ages now. Who’s the lucky person to have your attention?”

“First of all, I do not giggle.” Morgan muttered. “And second, it’s nothing, Prentiss. Just a friend of mine.” At that, Prentiss raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“A friend, huh? Is that who’s always got your head in the clouds?” Prentiss teased. “Because that sounds like more than a friend to me.” Morgan sighed, deciding to ignore the fact that she might be right.

“Come on, Prentiss.” Morgan said. “You know I don’t chase people for this long.” Prentiss’s smile only grew wider.

“So you are talking to someone! I knew it! Give me all the details.” Prentiss leaned in, teasingly curious. Morgan rolled his eyes at her.

“There’s nothing to say, Prentiss. We haven’t even met in person.” And I don’t even know what he looks like.

“Then it sounds like you need to change that.” Prentiss nudged him gently. “If you ever need advice-”

“You’re probably the last person I’d go seeking love advice from. If I ever needed it, which I don’t.” Morgan retorted, though it was more playful than anything else. “And besides, I don’t really plan to do anything. I just like talking to him, that’s all.” Prentiss stared at him for a long moment, then conceded with a shrug.

“Alright, alright.” Prentiss relented, leaning away. “But seriously, if you’re feeling conflicted, I think you should go for it. Whoever he is, he obviously makes you happy. And that’s good enough for me.” With a smile, she flicked Morgan’s shoulder before sidling back to the others.

“Wheels up in ten.” Hotch announced, suddenly appearing from his office. “We’ll be debriefed on the plane. We’re heading to Richmond.” Morgan rushed to his office to grab his go-bag, while the rest of the team skittered around, gathering their things.

They eventually met up again in front of the elevator. “Did you know that Morgan’s got a boyfriend?” Prentiss whisper-shouted to JJ as they waited. JJ gasped, whipping around to stare at him.

“You’re kidding.” She snickered. “No wonder you’ve been so chipper lately.”

“Alright, stop that. And don’t get your hopes up. He’s not my boyfriend or anything.” Morgan huffed, moving to hold the elevator door open as it arrived.

“Really? That’s too bad. You need one. Maybe then you’ll simmer down a little, mister hotshot.” JJ teased, slipping inside with Prentiss trailing behind her.

By the time they reached the jet, the others were already there. Rossi, who had taken a few days off, had finally returned and was waiting for them on the jet. Hotch was settled in his usual spot, flipping through a few files he had brought with him.

As they took off, Garcia called in to give the rundown of the case. “So, we have a few serial killings at Virginia U. All the victims were girls and were strangled to death, with chains. Though they were never left at the crime scene.”

“Do we know if these chains are a specific make? Maybe they can only be specially bought.” Morgan offered, scrolling through the photos Garcia had sent to their tablets.

“No, these are chains you can buy at any hardware store, according to the marking left. Nothing special about them. Trust me, I already looked.” Garcia sighed, shaking her head. “Anyway, we have had four victims in as many days, which is why we were called in so urgently.”

“The university has a history of students becoming violent criminals, but it's been almost a decade since the last one.” JJ added thoughtfully. “Maybe it's someone who was recently released deciding to come and wreak havoc on the school? Revenge kills?”

“But that was over a decade ago. I doubt they’d want to take their anger out on kids they wouldn’t know.” Rossi offered. “But then again, it's hard to rationalize the actions of a psychopathic killer.”

“Any signs of sexual assault?” Hotch asked. Garcia sighed and nodded.

“More like all the signs.” Garcia said, typing away at her computer. She froze suddenly, a deep frown on her face. “And they’ve just found another victim. I’ve forwarded the photos to your tablets.”

“JJ, you and Rossi will go to the medical examiner. Prentiss, you and Morgan will go straight to the latest crime scene. And I’ll get us set up at the local police department.” Hotch decided. With assignments delegated, the rest of the short plane ride was in relative silence, with the occasional theory being brought up.

“He left the chain this time.” Morgan noted, kneeling down to take a closer look at the young woman's body. “And Garcia was right about the chains being accessible. They’re really nothing special.”

“The victim’s name was Emma Garrison. She was reported missing less than 24 hours ago.” Prentiss explained, glancing around the crime scene. “Our unsub did what he planned quickly, and didn’t hold her long, if at all.”

“I would think it would be difficult to keep someone subdued privately on such a populated campus. And no one saw anything at all?” Morgan asked.

“No witnesses have come forward so far.” Prentiss replied, sliding on her gloves as she knelt beside Morgan. She prodded at the body a bit, before letting out a sigh. “There are signs of sexual assault.”

“And clear defensive wounds. Might’ve gotten her with a blitz attack.” Morgan stated. “We need to get into contact with anyone on and off campus that knows her personally. That might help us get closer to the unsub.”

After their analysis of the latest crime scene, Morgan and Prentiss made their way to the local police department. Hotch had already set them up in a conference room, with pictures of the victims taped up in chronological order. “Morgan, Prentiss, this is Detective Noah Walsh. He’s the one heading up the investigation.” Hotch introduced.

Noah gingerly shook their hands, then bowed his head. “Sorry to call you guys here on such short notice. Normally, we’d have more information for you, thanks to our consultant, but he’s stuck at the university. The place is on lockdown until we can find a suspect.”

“Is he like a student there or something?” Morgan asked absently, instead taking in the timeline Hotch had created.

“Well, yeah. But he’s a real bright kid. I’ve been keeping him filled in, so he may call if he has any ideas.” Noah explained. Prentiss nodded.

“We’ll need all the help we can get.” She added dully.

“How is the university handling things?” Hotch questioned. Noah shifted nervously.

“Well, they’ve imposed a curfew.” He said.

“And?”

“That’s it.” Noah raised his hands defensively when Morgan whirled around suddenly, stunned at the seeming lack of concern or care for their students. “There’s been issues at that school for years. Most of the recent incidents have been kept under wraps by the higher ups. But the press caught wind of this too fast for the school to cover it up.”

Hotch frowned. Before he could say more, JJ and Rossi appeared in the doorway. “The press is outside waiting for a statement. We barely made it in here without being tackled.” Rossi huffed, dropping the medical examiner’s reports on the table.

“We’ll hold off on a statement until we can nail down the profile. If we say the wrong thing, we may end up pushing the unsub to strike faster than he already is.” Hotch decided after a moment. “Anything with the medical examiner?”

“The latest victim died the same way as the others. Strangled with a chain and sexually assaulted both post and ante-mortem. This time the chain was left at the scene. There were traces of DNA, and they’re working on identifying it as we speak.” JJ explained. Hotch nodded slowly.

“The strangulation suggests that the unsub has a personal vendetta against these women. But using the chain means he doesn’t want to get his hands too dirty. Yet he still has the strength to subdue these women and kill them quickly.” Rossi added bluntly.

“I bet the university is still trying to cover for this student. They may have some idea as to who our unsub is.” Hotch decided after a while. “I’ll go speak with them. JJ, Rossi, head to the school and interview a few students. I had Garcia compile a list of people who may be of some interest to our investigation. It should be sent to your phones. Prentiss, stay with Morgan and continue to work on victimology. We’ll have to hope that this consultant gives us a call. For now, he’s one of our only leads.”

With that, Prentiss and Morgan were left with Detective Noah, who flipped through the medical examiner’s reports as though new information would jump out at him from the pages. After a while of theorizing in silence, the conference room’s phone began to ring.

Morgan leaned over to read the number, expecting Garcia with more info. Instead, it was a number he didn’t recognize. Or maybe he did, but he couldn’t recall from where. Detective Noah peered over his shoulder, noticing Morgan’s confusion, and slumped a little in relief. “That’s our consultant, Dr. Spencer Reid.” That’s not…my Spencer, is it? Surely not. Right? Without a moment’s hesitation, Detective Noah answered and put the phone on speaker to allow the agents to hear.

“Good afternoon, Detective. Sorry I haven’t called sooner. I had to confirm some things before I presented my findings.” The voice on the other end apologized, letting out an airy laugh. “Your unsub belongs to a makeshift fraternity called Alpha. They basically believe women to be scum, for lack of a better word, and feel it's their place to take care of them. Some of their members even refer to them as dogs, hence the chains. They remind me of chains one may use to shackle a dog to their doghouse.”

“Ew. Men.” Prentiss huffed. “Uh, no offense, Morgan.” Morgan could hardly hear her. Spencer was stuck at a university with a murderer, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“...Derek? Is that you?” Spencer asked carefully, his voice adorably hopeful. Despite his anxieties, just hearing Spencer’s voice made him feel a lot better.

“Yeah, Spence. It’s me.” Morgan smiled, ignoring Prentiss’ shocked gasp.

Spencer nervously cleared his throat, remembering why he had called in the first place. “Right. Um. The dean has been trying to hide this group’s existence from students, but it’s impossible to hide everything from nosy students. They disbanded less than a week ago, which lines up with the first victim. So your unsub is most likely in that group. I’ve just sent a list of all the members to Derek.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Reid. You have no idea how grateful we always are for your help.” Detective Noah sighed, relieved. “Be sure to stay safe.”

“I will. And it’s my pleasure.” Spencer replied, ending the call. Before Prentiss could turn on Morgan to interrogate him, he called Garcia, asking her to check out the alibis for the students on Spencer’s list.

After a bit of digging, Garcia found that only one of the former members of the Alpha fraternity did not have a solid alibi, that being Blake Gaines. “Hotch, it looks like Blake Gaines may be our unsub. He resides in Jayden Morse Hall. I had Garcia send his photo to your phones. We’ll be there in fifteen.” Prentiss relayed as she rushed out of the conference room, Morgan right on her heels.

“I can get us there in seven.” Morgan growled determinedly, fishing his keys out of his pocket and hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Try not to kill us, Morgan.” Prentiss sighed, ending the call. Morgan let out a gruff laugh.

“Like I’d ever let that happen.” Morgan sped down the road, sirens wailing as he went. He braked hard as he came to the police perimeter, quickly shutting off the car and hopping out to rush onto campus.

The pair made their way around the perimeter of the residence hall, eyes carefully trained on the exits and entrances, ensuring that there was no way for Blake to escape. There was a sudden commotion and the rear exit door swung open. Blake was scrambling away, with JJ hot on his trail.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Prentiss and Morgan rush to cut him off, trapping him between the three agents. Realizing he had no means of escape, Blake huffed and slowly raised his hands, allowing JJ to cuff him with minimal insults flung their way. “That was easier than I expected.” Morgan said as JJ marched Blake away.

“Maybe a little too easy.” Prentiss frowned. “With all due respect, he seems like an idiot. I’m not sure how he went on for so long without being caught.” Morgan shrugged, but he had to admit she had a point. Something was amiss.

Morgan hesitated a little as they headed back to the car. Spencer was here, somewhere. And it would be so good to see him. As much as he hated to admit it, he really, really wanted to just hold onto Spencer and give him the attention and love he deserves–

Morgan shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. He really needed to focus. Dealing with his personal life and feelings comes later, his job comes first.

Back at the police station, Morgan stood beside Hotch who was intently watching the interrogation. “So you have no idea how these women ended up dead? Somehow, I find that hard to believe.” Rossi scoffed, tapping at a picture directly in front of Blake. “From what we heard around campus, she was your girlfriend. You two had broken up only a few weeks ago, and you were taking it less than well.”

“Shut the hell up! You don’t know what you’re doing, old man.” Blake snapped back, glaring at Rossi. “I don’t have to say shit. Once the dean catches wind that I’m in here, you’ll all be sorry!” Unfazed by his outburst, Rossi leaned back in his chair.

“You know, we found some DNA at the crime scene. In fact, it was on the victim herself. I bet if we had a sample of yours, we’d find a match.” He offered Blake a tight smile. “Listen, kid. The easiest way to clear your name and get you out of here is to consent to a DNA test. That’s all you’ve gotta do.” Blake tensed, eyes growing wide at Rossi’s words.

“I want my phone call.” Blake huffed, crossing his arms. “I don’t have to talk to you people.” Rossi simply shrugged, standing from the chair and leaving the room.

As Rossi, Hotch, and Morgan were coming up with a new strategy, a well-dressed man barged into the station, pushing past all the officers trying to stop him. “Agent Hotchner!” He yelled, pointing an accusing finger at the agent. “I demand that you release my son this instant! He has done nothing wrong and there’s no proof that any of these killings had to do with him.”

“Ah, Mr. Gaines. I’ve been expecting you.” Hotch straightened up and met his gaze evenly. “We have probable cause to keep Blake here due to DNA we found on the most recent victim. Should he agree to a DNA test, it would expedite the process.”

“Then, I’m here as the dean of Virginia University, trying to free one of my students who is being wrongfully held.” Mr. Gaines faltered a little. “He doesn’t have to consent to a test if he doesn’t want to. His testimony should be more than sufficient.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.” Hotch apologized flatly. “You don’t have the authority to demand the release of a suspect. And Blake is a person of interest.”

“Then I’m calling our lawyer.” Mr. Gaines snarled, glaring harshly at Hotch. “My boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Hotch watched him stalk away, then turned to Morgan. “Call Garcia and see if she has anything new on Blake. If we can’t find anything concrete, we’ll have to let him go.”

“Hey, baby girl. Please tell me you’ve got something new on Blake.” Morgan asked, heading into the conference room and placing his phone on the table, so everyone could hear.

“Of course I do! Your lack of faith in me is hurtful.” Garcia huffed. “The kid’s got a sealed record. So of course I got nosy and unsealed it. Turns out, he has like twenty different charges against him for sexual assault against both men and women, but they were dropped every time due to witnesses retracting their statements.”

“And I’ll bet the dean has everything to do with it.” Morgan sighed, shaking his head.

“He’ll be back soon. I’ll see if I can get through to him. Maybe we’ll be able to get that DNA test after all.” Rossi offered. “I mean, Mr. Gaines wouldn’t be rejecting the one thing that could prove Blake innocent once and for all if he didn’t worry that Blake was actually guilty.”

“Alright, that’s probably best.” Hotch decided. “He won’t want to talk to me, since he sees me as responsible for his son being in custody.”

The team waited around for Mr. Gaines to return, surprisingly with no lawyer at his side like they expected. “I’m giving you people one more chance to let my son go without causing any more issues.”

“Mr. Gaines, hello again. A pleasure to see you.” Rossi greeted warmly, taking the man’s hand and pulling him aside. “I just need to exchange a few words with you, if you don’t mind.” Without another word, Rossi pulled him to the far side of the conference room, just out of earshot of the other agents.

Though Morgan couldn’t hear what they were saying, he watched Mr. Gaines’ body language shift as Rossi continued to talk. After a few minutes, they return to the group. “I consent to a DNA test for my son. I…want these women to get the justice they deserve.”

Hotch nodded and went to order the test, while JJ escorted Mr. Gaines out of the room. “What’d you say to him to get him to cave?” Prentiss asked curiously.

“Ah, well. I have my ways.” Rossi smiled as he shrugged. Morgan couldn’t help but laugh while Prentiss rolled her eyes.

After a few hours, JJ returned with Mr. Gaines, who looked like he had seen a ghost. “The test came back positive. Blake confessed to everything after he talked to Mr. Gaines.”

“I betrayed him.” Mr. Gaines murmured. “I should have protected him. And have been a better father.”

“Thank you for your help, Mr. Gaines.” Hotch nodded to him. Mr. Gaines didn’t reply, slumping his shoulders as he turned away. “We’ll need to contact the families of the victims, then we’re done here.”

Morgan helped make a few phone calls, consoling the mourning families. They were grateful, however, for the closure the team was able to provide.

“Shouldn’t you go visit Spencer while we’re still here?” Prentiss asked, spinning lazily in a chair in the conference room. Though the team was technically done with their investigation, they still needed to wait on the jet to be ready.

“I want to. I really do. But I want us to meet under better circumstances.” Morgan admitted. “After helping catch a murderer, I don’t think he’d be in the mood anyway. And I don’t know where he is or what he’s up to.” Prentiss sighed.

“Those are poor excuses. That’s what your phone is for, dummy.” Prentiss swiveled and stared at him. “But whatever. At least give him a call. Check in on him.”

“I will.” Morgan promised.

“The jet’s ready, so let’s get going.” Rossi called, poking his head into the conference room.

“Sweet. This place was getting a little too dreary for my taste. Can’t wait to take a good nap.” Prentiss stretched animatedly and nudged Morgan. “And if I catch wind from Garcia that you didn’t talk to you-know-who…”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, I get it.” Morgan laughed, playfully lifting his arms to appease her as he stood. “You’re really starting to sound like Garcia.”

“Well, good. Then you’ll listen to me.” Prentiss stuck out her tongue at him, which only caused him to laugh harder.

The flight back was short, but not fast enough for Morgan’s taste. As much as he played off wanting to call Spencer, he really wanted to hear his voice again. I miss him. God, I just wanna hold him, so badly.

“You going out with us tonight, Morgan?” JJ asked as they arrived back at the office. “We’re finally back at a reasonable hour. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

“Sorry, guys. I think I’ll pass today.” Morgan replied, quickly gathering his things and attempting to slink away.

“Morgan not wanting to go out? Something’s wrong with him.” JJ blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Is it your boyfriend? Or, sorry, almost boyfriend.”

“Did you know that he’s the consultant for Richmond PD? Morgan got a little flustered when he called in.” Prentiss teased, meeting Morgan’s glare with a wide smile.

“Oh!” JJ smirked. “Well, please. Don’t let us stop you from your romantic pursuits. Have a good night, Morgan!”

“Yeah. Bye, guys.” Morgan sighed and headed to the elevator with a shake of his head.

“We still love you, y’know! We’re just teasing!” Prentiss called after him.

“Totally holding it against you if you find someone!” Morgan replied, letting the elevator doors close before Prentiss could retort.

Morgan drove a little faster than he intended to, but he needed to get home. He needed to hear his pretty boy again. He had hardly stepped through the door when he pulled out his phone and dialed the number he now made a point to commit to memory. It only rang once before there was an answer. “Derek?”

“Hey, pretty boy.” Morgan sighed, settling on his couch.

“I heard you guys caught your unsub. I guess my info helped?” Spencer asked.

“More than you know. We wouldn’t have been able to narrow down our list of suspects that quickly without it.” Morgan replied.

“That’s good. Are you home now? It’s a bit earlier than usual.” Spencer wondered.

“Yeah. And it’s thanks to you. We probably would have been stuck over there for another day or two without you.” Morgan let out a light laugh. “Are you okay though? I know it must have been tough. And you were stuck on campus the whole time.”

Spencer didn’t reply right away, instead letting out a soft breath. “If I’m being honest, I was terrified.” He whispered, voice shaky. “Even when I called Detective Noah to give him information, I was trying really hard to stay composed. When I found out you were there, it made me feel a lot better. Like nothing could touch me, so long as I knew you were near.”

“Spence…”

“Sorry, corny. I know.” Spencer chuckled. “But I’m home now. So everything’s fine. The campus will be closed for the next few days, so I’ll have some free time on my hands.”

“That’s good. You deserve a break.” Morgan barely managed to stop himself from asking about Spencer’s plans. As much as he wanted to meet him, Morgan wondered if it was really the right time. Then again, there’s no time like the present. But, I don’t want to bother him either. God, why is this so hard?

“Spencer, who are you talking to now?” A gruff voice asked from the other line. Morgan frowned, trying to recall where he had heard it before.

“Sorry, I have to go. But we’ll talk later, okay? Take care of yourself, and rest well.” Spencer rushed out, hanging up before Morgan had a chance to reply.

That was more than suspicious to him, but he decided to let it go for now. After all, Morgan didn’t want to push Spencer too much, in case he doesn’t want to talk about it.

Patience, Morgan. Patience.

#criminal minds #derek morgan #fanfic #fanfiction #spencer reid #ao3 author #romance #moreid

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a-crumb-of-whump · 2 years

Note

Alrighty! Also how are you? Hope your good! Make sure to have some water!

Anyways

I’d like to give Carlos, Ollie and Coco a bath.

For Ollie he can have coco but i dont think coco can swim (unless i forgot? I dunno) so I’ll fill the sink and I’ll help both of them get the water temperature just right, and for coco i’ll let it hold on to my fingers while it bathes, and if they would like i’ll put on a blindfold so i cant see anything they wouldn’t want me to see. And i’ll make sure coco is in view of Ollie too by either crouching or standing off to the side.

For Carlos i’ll tell him to give his honest opinion, help him get the temperate right and then i’ll ask him if he wants me in the bathroom, if he says no i’ll respect his decision and wait for him to finish, if he says yes i’ll help him with anything he’d need help with.

Once all three of them are done i’ll grab blankets, pets, plushies and snacks and let them watch whatever they like. If they’d like something i’ll give it to them! - 🧸

Ollie is visibly uncomfortable, but Coco assures him that all will be okay. The two get in together after testing to make sure the temperature is right, Coco a little bigger than usual, and they curl up together with Coco's wings wrapped around Its body for comfort.

The fairy is okay with you staying, but Ollie promptly shakes his head when you offer. He also shakes his head profusely when you offer to mend his plushies, saying he'll do it himself someday. He does not want them to be touched by anyone other than himself.

He feels so stressed that he ends up gently washing Coco's wings/body as a way of calming down; massaging his fingers up and down Its feathers and gently cleaning all the grime out from under them. It lets him do so, nuzzling Its face into his shoulder. It feels nice.

----

Carlos is scared, though he doesn't want to admit it, but does not tell you that. Instead, he lets you help him undress and fix the water until it's lukewarm before shakily climbing inside, hands clinging to the side of the tub so hard they start to tremble.

He starts to relax as soon as he realises you're not out to hurt him. Instead, gentle fingers trail through his hair and down his back, massaging his body for the first time in years. He even shuts his eyes for a little while, enjoying the touches that don't hurt.

He's a little disappointed when it is time to get out, though he does not realise that's what that feeling is.

Coco sits between Carlos and Ollie, cuddling Tilly, the stuffed animal it gave to Ollie many years ago, close to Its chest while Ollie cuddles Pascal. Carlos gets a cup of blood to sip from, which he does so gratefully. They all sit and watch a movie together, Coco holding Ollie's hand in one of Its own while it holds Carlos' hand in the other. Carlos finds all this non-violent touching to be very odd, but accepts it. He likes Coco.

#oc coco #oc ollie #oc carlos #🧸 anon

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shaisuki · 8 months

Text

— OUT OF CONTROL

ENTRY #008 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. GOJO SATORU + OVERSTIMULATION

— refers to a state where an individual experiences an excessive or overwhelming level of sexual arousal, stimulation, or sensation.

• pairing: gojo satoru x chubby reader

• content warnings: dubcon,overstimulation, multiple orgasms

proceed with caution. never approach the man who's looking the combination of dark and crazy.

perhaps you were still unfamiliar with gojo.

he could be quite unpredictable. that's an understatement. he surprises you in many ways and standing in front of him. there is like another version of himself you have yet to unravel.

his blindfold hangs into his neck, the blues in his eyes shimmering more than ever while it stares at you. he seems conflicted like there is a hidden turmoil deep inside him.

“satoru?” you asked unsure, your voice wavering a bit. unsure of how you will approach him. he stayed silent. heavy footsteps echoing in the room as it draws closer to you and it was too late before you could react. he swiftly pounces into you. pushing you into the soft duvet of your bed.

putting his legs in the side of your torso. your wrists pinned above your head with only a hand and the other holds the pudge in your stomach.

“did something happen?” he remains silent. it's unlike for hm to be this quiet. stressed? a bad day at work? you don't know.. he's vocal with his problems being discussed to you. your heart quickens it's beat. unused to the placidity of his behavior he was displaying. one thing you knew about him? he is never quiet.

you take in to the sight of his features above you. his white hair swaying gently, framing his face. his pink full lips — perfect shaped nose and those eyes — the universe encased in those eyes of him. there is no trace of flaw on them. gojo satoru is perfect.

slender fingers danced at the top of your blouse. his attention on them. you felt cornered. trapped — from his lack of response. then his eyes met yours.

“i missed you.” he mutters and then the buttons of your blouse went flying — followed by the sound of clothes being ripped.

“n-no more...” you stammer out. your eyes closing and fluttering open as you feel another tingling sensation erupts in your system. your cunt clenching around his lenght but he didn't stop from the onslaught of his cock pounding to your pussy.

“it's fine baby. you can take more.” he assures, groaning at the sensation of your walls that is wrapped around him. his hands gripping like a vice to your wide hips. hypnotized by the movements of you body swaying in rhythm to his ministrations. he didn't stop. engrossed by your tight pussy clasping around him. he's unstoppable.

a hue of flushed pink dusted in his pale skin, sweat beads to his forehead from the exertion of his hips violently snapping into yours with no regards of your pleas. his breath coming in pants. huffing and panting. rapidly flowing in his mouth. he's frenzied. it's rare for him to get so worked up. you've never seen him like this before. a man possessed. occupied by your warmth and the feeling of your skin against his.

one after another and then another. you lost count of how many time he made you cum. tears springing down in your eyes. your body jitters and spasms. begging for you to stop but with his strength. it's impossible.

“'toru, can't do it anymore.” your voice broken from too much moaning and the whimpers you managed to croak out. your nails digging crescent shaped denting to his skin as you grabbed his arm.

he shakes his head — ears deaf to your please as you whine and beg for him to stop. emptying another load deep inside you. it continued for awhile. you were in the brink of passing out from a another bliss bubbling in your stomach. letting out a silent scream as your orgasm washes over you.

your breathing labored — you tried to call for his name again. “s—satoru...” your voice barely audible.m

when your hold to him loosen and the same time he shoots his hot, sticky cum inside you — breaks him in his stupor. chest heaving, slow pants can be heard as he peppers kisses to your cheeks.

“are you okay, pretty?.” he murmurs, his lips grazing to your skin. he's not yet to pull out. “yeah. what's gotten into you, 'toru?” you asked.

“nothing.” he replies, pressing a kiss to your lips and then another and another. turning into a full blown deepening of the kiss. you can taste yourself in his mouth from earlier session of him making you cum from his mouth and to his fingers.

soft pecks of lips are bestowed to each other. your fingers running through his soft, white hair.

“you're still inside me, 'toru?” you murmured in his lips, his breath fanning into yours and then the corners of his mouth curls upward and your breath hitched.

“one more.”

#ʚ•ɞ. shai writes #shaisuki's kinktober2023 #kinktober 2023 #chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #plus size reader #gojo x chubby reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x chubby reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut

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casualmelody · 1 year

Text

Genocide of the Jiaoren

CW: Genocide, death, gore (medium), corpse mutilation, heavy subject material ...Dead Dove Do Not Eat on this one. I’m not entirely certain I tagged everything, so warning this is very heavy subject material

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All was chaos and screams of fear and agony. The dragon armies had launched a surprise attack upon the Zhēnzhū Capital, and now thousands of men, women, and children were swimming in a massive school trying to flee the danger. One noble was swimming as hard as their body would allow, in the midst of the said school. Blood littered the water as harpoons suddenly shot down from above, pulling innocent souls to their final resting place in a torrent of agony. Orphans cried for parents, lovers called for one another in the cacophony of chaos. As the noble tried to fight the crushing weight of bodies, they spotted a familiar sapphire tailfin.

“MOTHER! FATHER! WAIT! I’M HERE!” With all of their might they shoved violently with their elbows against the bodies crushing against them. They reached out a hand, their fingers nearly grasping the sapphire tailfin…

All of a sudden a gigantic weight slammed down upon them, a scream ripping from their throat as something collided with the back of their head. They were falling…they could feel their body being violently bumped and jostled by the fleeing civilians as the water rushed by them. They felt as if their ribs would break and impale their lungs…but all of a sudden the crushing force was gone. They had fallen out the bottom of the panicked school of Jiaoren. Before their eyes closed, the noble thought they could see two familiar sets of eyes peering down. The shorter of the two turned to her husband, shaking her head. Without a backward glance, they turned to swim with the school.

All became dark. Hours later, through a haze, the only royal child of Hong opened their eyes slowly. Something was wrong, something had happened…they rolled over and came face-to-face with a dead Jiaoren, their body being feasted upon by the bottom-feeders of the sea. They opened their mouth to scream, but found no sound coming out. They tried to move their limbs, but found their arms were too heavy. Even drawing a small amount of breath took great effort. Closing their eyes, the royal steeled themselves, trying to probe their battered body’s nerves to assess the damage. Several bones felt broken, not to mention the back of their head felt….and then suddenly their eyes snapped open again. The red that should be leaking from the corpse before them…why was it blue? Why was everything so blurred? Something had happened, and something bad. They fought the urge to give way to panic, forcing themselves to try to push themselves up to no avail. They were simply too weak…

Suddenly, the monarch felt something begin wrapping itself around their body. To anyone else this would have been cause for panic, but as the battered Jiaoren felt themselves being lifted, they could have cried with relief. The squid was massive, about 40 feet long, its dull colors a welcome sight. As gently as it could, the squid began swimming while carrying the wounded victim. As it did so, the monarch could only look down at the thousands of corpses of their people being devoured by the sea’s carrion eaters. Tears went down their face as they saw how many little bodies were scattered amongst the carnage and how many faces they recognized. Friends, teachers, comrades in arms….all gone in what felt like a matter of seconds.

It was unknown to the Jiaoren how much time passed when at last the Zhēnzhū Capital came into sight. They were carried to the familiar Zhùfú Shēngtiān Palace, the Palace of Blessed Ascension, where a shoal of smaller squids were swimming about. The giant squid lowered the Jiaoren into their hold, where the squids quickly moved them into the palace’s bedroom. Once laid upon the bed, the monarch felt their eyes slip closed once more.

Hours more later, two aurulent eyes opened, their slit pupils adjusting to the minimal light of the room. This time sitting up was a tad more bearable, but they felt their body scream in protest as several wounds were strained. Looking down, the Jiaoren saw the light was coming from a congealment of cuttlefish gently making their way around the bed. At the movement, they turned to look up at the 7’0” monarch. In a hoarse voice, they spoke, “You must know what happened to everyone but…what has happened to me?” One of the cuttlefish swam up to gently boop against their head, where the monarch felt some rather sloppily wrapped bandages. At the kindness, tears filled those yellow eyes. “Dear ones… even now you are the only ones to care for me. Do not fret, I will recover.” With a simple flick, their long eel’s tail turned to the legs of a human. They swung their legs over the edge of the bed and woozily stood. Taking a deep breath, they commanded the currents to gently guide them forth, making them float through the lavish halls. Memories came back to them: the corpses, the screams, the pain… Why? Why was all of this done? The Jiaoren had begun discussions of peace with the dragon kings! A cease-fire had been set in place!

As the back of their head throbbed, a more painful memory came to the Jiaoren. Those four eyes staring coldly, judging them, and finding their existence not worth saving. More tears fell down their face, intermingling with the ocean. As they reached the palace’s Imperial Physician’s workroom, they tried to shove such thoughts from their mind as they began trying to re-patch themselves up. Try as they might, though, each bump, bruise, and break brought to mind the scattered bodies on the ocean floor. With each drop of blood wiped clean, they thought of the sharks tearing into flesh, of the screaming, of the cries of fear as pandemonium tore the world apart.

It was a difficult task, mending themselves. Something was wrong with their eyes….objects that seemed close were surprisingly far, and at times when they went to grasp something their hand would meet the edge of a table instead. This made stitching up wounds a very excruciating, nasty business, but they were a General. They could stand pain. Once they were done, they allowed the currents to guide them once more, this time to the Cǎihóng Palace in the center of the capital. They floated through the sacred halls towards the throne. They paused before it, staring at where their father once sat. Those heartless eyes, the shake of the head…

The ocean began vibrating around the monarch. “They looked back. They saw me, yet they did not think to rescue me. It was a dire situation, but could they not have fallen back? Could they not have swam to the bottom to at least try to resuscitate me? Did they even CARE?!” They felt something burst from them, sending ripples throughout the water. Turning, the monarch would see that the little sea friends kept to the open doorway of the palace. Temporarily, they forced down their anger. In a more controlled voice, they said, “My ire is not directed at you. Please, come forth.” They held out a hand. After a few moments, the cuttlefish and squids approach and swim around them, gently bumping against them, being sure to avoid the wounds. The Jiaoren gently petted them, smiling gently.

“Of course, changes will have to be made.” They stared back at the throne. “I am sure none would mind if I were to take up the dear old man’s throne, and in that spirit…” The monarch suddenly sweeps their hand, the surrounding waves throwing the throne against the wall and wrecking it. “Much better.”

They then stood where the throne once was and turned, facing the large, empty hall where ministers and militants alike once stood. Those days would nevermore come to pass, but a part of the monarch wondered if that were not for the better as they recalled their life behind these walls. Perhaps a change in management was exactly what was needed. Taking several deep breaths, they closed their eyes and began to shut out their five senses. Once done, they followed the iridescent thread of their soul to the well of power awaiting their command. They called upon the power, pulling it forth as their arms raised. When they were thrown forward, a massive golden bubble closed around the capital. The once tortuous home would now become the monarch’s hidden sanctuary where none would find or harm her, be they mortal, infernal, or celestial. With the bubble set in place, the royal opened their eyes and began to work.

It took several days and several pauses for rest, but soon new paintings lined the halls….portraits depicting the monarch in battle, their trident covered in the gore of their enemies. In all of them, the face was scratched out. The old robes they’d worn had been removed and destroyed, now the monarch wore an elegant dress of a pearl’s rainbow iridescence. The center of the dress held an ornament with a simple peony in its center. The flower also decorated the sleeves and collar of the outfit, a darker light purple than the fabric. Their waist-length hair had been taken down from its topknot, allowing the curls to flow in the current as they walked. Instead of the single pitiful golden hairpin, many now decorated her hair, gemstones of varying size and rarity dangling from their ends. A new throne had been placed in the throne room, and upon it they now sat, in one hand gripping their new staff of office: a double-sided trident made of pure diamond. Filling the empty space were several creatures of the midnight zone, all staring with their grotesque countenances upon the monarch before them.

“You, my dear companions of the deep, know me. You know the contents of my character. I ask that you place trust in said character as I lead you into this new age from the ashes of our falling kingdom. From now on, all will know me by my true title: The Rainbow Crown Princess, new master of Cǎihóng Palace and supreme ruler of the Jiaoren. By my honor as your ruler, I shall provide succor and protection against any who raise a weapon to you. The dragons might have the blessing of Heaven, but you all witness how the seas themselves bend to my very will! The Unfathomables themselves place their blessings upon me, and should any proof be needed any who doubt me need only look upon my eyes! Here, within these walls, I will ensure that not even the most microscopic organism meets such a twisted fate!” Slowly, the princess stands, trident glowing in both of her hands. In a voice magnified by power she proclaims, “THUS I HAVE COMMANDED, SO MOTE IT BE!” There was a clap as loud as thunder. To any outside observers, the bubble around the capital would shimmer before disappearing, as if it had never been there at all. In the bosom of the deepest seas now rested the fallen kingdom. Thus it would be for over a millennia, with stories of the Jiaoren being reduced to myth, the massacre disappearing into the sands of time. A relic of those ancient days remained in those waters, biding her time and awaiting the moment to once more bring the mortals to their knees and force them to witness the full might of the seas.

#lmk #lmk oc #xingshen #lmk oc backstory #genocide of the jiaoren #genocide #gore #death #corpse mutilation #dead dove do not eat

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mkfluffluv · 2 years

Text

Comfort

STEVEN GRANT X GN READER , SLIGHT MARC SPECTOR AND JAKE LOCKLEY X READER

prompt : you decide to use the spare key to steven's apartment and find that he isn't home. when he does come home though, steven is in a terrible mood and wants all the love you can possibly give.

for the sake of this not being awkward, marc and layla signed the divorce papers. this takes place after the events of moon knight and they know of jake's existence. also english is not my first language so please excuse the mistakes. leave me requests !!!

like and reblogs appreciated !!!

warnings : none. this is literally just pure tooth-rotting fluff and steven being a big lovable baby.

word count : 1,119

masterlist

You close the door behind you, the lack of your boyfriend anywhere in the apartment making you frown. The plan was to come over to spend some time with Steven since your place felt too empty but you were utterly disappointed when you find that he wasn't even home yet.

Swear to god if Donna had put the poor man in inventory again, you are personally going to go over there and claw her face off. Which you'd offered to do so many times before but Steven always assures you that he's got it handled. Every day you pray he'll change his mind just so you get to slap that annoying face of hers.

You push the violent thoughts away as you make your way over to his desk where a clutter of books on ancient Egypt history lay on top. Shaking your head at Steven's usual untidiness, you gather a bunch of them and start to clean up for him. You're sure he'd appreciate the help.

It starts with just the desk, and then his bed, and his shelves, and after a while, you've pretty much started to clean up the whole place. Gosh, you knew Steven could be a mess at times but the place was in such disarray, that it took you around an hour for the apartment to even be moderately clean.

In the middle of picking up clothes strewn about the floor, you hear the clicking of the door being opened then closed, and lo and behold, there stands your sweet Steven looking tired as ever.

It only takes a few small steps till you're standing face to face with him. You place a hand gently to his face, Steven immediately leaning into your touch. You resist the urge to coo at his endearing behavior and give a soft peck to his slightly pouting lips. "What's happened, love?" The nickname falls out of your mouth with no hesitation.

Steven doesn't respond. Instead, he opens his arms and you naturally fall into them, letting the man hold you against his body tightly with your own arms wrapping around his waist. "Just missed you." He mumbles into your hair. This time, you let the small coo come out. Can't help it, he's just too adorable.

After a while of just holding each other and your hands drawing comforting circles around his back, Steven eventually pulls away and looks at you with tired eyes. "Do you have work tomorrow?" You shake your head. "Can you stay, then?" He asks timidly. A smile makes its way up your face. A shy Steven is a 10 times more adorable Steven.

You give him a kiss on the cheek, "Go get changed," A kiss on the forehead, "then we'll head straight to bed." And finally a kiss to his lips. "Does that sound good?" Steven nods, the frown on his face gone, replaced by a weary smile.

He hesitates for a second, still wanting to stay by your side so your warmth doesn't leave him until Jake in the mirror tells him to "get a move on, so we can cuddle and sleep." Steven grumbles and drags his feet towards the closet, then the bathroom to get changed.

You change into your own pajamas that you keep in his closet for days like these and head towards the bed. You fluff up the pillows, ready the blankets, and try to make the cheap mattress look and feel as comfortable as possible.

Steven walks out of the bathroom in a plain white shirt and sweatpants. You sit on the edge of the bed and pat the space beside you, urging him to come and sit down as well.

He does so but then lays his head across your lap instead of just sitting beside you. He grabs one of your hands and places it on his head where you immediately start playing with his hair. This is pretty much the usual routine for you both whenever you stay over so it comes naturally to you.

It's silent for a while, no conversation is had between you two as you gently rub at Steven's head, massaging his scalp and letting the sweet man relax on your lap. Eventually, though, curiosity just got the best of you.

"Why'd you come home so late?" You ask him. Steven scoffs and turns his head towards you, his hands crossed in front of his chest.

"Someone," He pointedly glares in front of him. At the mirror where Marc or Jake is probably standing there guiltily, then turns away. "Decided to interrupt me at work. Donna didn't like that, thought I was going mental and I got put in inventory." And the violent thoughts are back again. You wish you could poke her eyes out or something. You voice these thoughts to him.

"Steven?" He hums in response. "My offer to claw her face off still stands." Your statement gets a bright laugh out of him.

Eventually, after talking about his awful day for about 30 minutes, Steven's eyes start to get droopy and his yawns start to interrupt his story more often than not.

You lay down on the bed, taking Steven with you. He's visibly startled by your sudden strength but gets comfortable quickly. He loops his arms around your middle and pulls you closer to him.

Steven snuggles closer into your chest, and visibly relaxes as you run your fingers through his hair again. A small smile makes its way up your face at the adorableness that is Steven Grant cuddled up close to you. You continue to play with his curls until Steven's breathing eventually slows and he falls into a deep sleep.

Which lasts for about 5 minutes when the arm around you suddenly tightens its hold on your waist. When he looks up, you are greeted by tired but confused eyes. Gone was the innocence and pureness that laid in those eyes, now replaced by a more stern and less relaxed gaze.

"Go back to sleep, Marc." You say, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head. "You all need some rest." Marc doesn't argue, the sudden fatigue and stress confused him but he eventually gives in to exhaustion and falls back asleep.

At first, you expected Jake to come out this time, maybe wanting a small kiss to the head as well but after half an hour of waiting, the only movement coming from him was only the soft rise and fall of his broad chest. You decide to give him another kiss anyway, just in case. Holding your love closer to you and nuzzling into his hair, you finally let yourself drift off to sleep as well.

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

this was... weird.

the house was completely quiet, for the first time in what felt like weeks and osamu felt very out of place.

despite being so far removed from everyone besides his girlfriend, he enjoyed the noisiness and bustle that came from all the other members.

osamu never had been a fan of the quiet.

all it did was remind him that he was alone — that he was the lesser twin, the one always left behind, the one that would remain alone while his brother basked in the limelight.

but now, that wasn’t the case! osamu had meiko and he used to have daichi and iwaizumi but ever since iwa was fired and daichi disappeared off the face of the planet, he was down two friends. that was okay! his was doing what he loved with the woman he loved and that was all that mattered.

a loud clang followed by a quiet curse shook osamu from his thoughts. he gently placed the knife he was using to prep his vegetables down before following the noise to the pantry where he found... you.

you were sitting on the floor of the pantry wearing hello kitty patterned pajama pants, fuzzy socks, and a hoodie with your hand in a bag of chips and a pan sat by your foot. belatedly, osamu recognized that you must’ve knocked over the pan after falling while trying to grab your snack.

you were cute, with your sleep mussed hair and confused expression, he briefly thought but he swiftly squashed that line of reasoning down.

he was in a happy, committed relationship and he didn’t need you to change that like you changed everything else in his life. after all, you were the reason atsumu hated him now and never spoke to him anymore. you were the reason he had to avoid going home for fear of his grandmother asking what atsumu was up to because he had no idea. you were the reason he and his twin drifted apart. it was all you.

before osamu knew it, that moment of endearment had passed and was instead replaced by anger.

“what the hell are ya doin’ here?” osamu scoffed coldly, staring down at you with fire in his eyes. you sighed and stood before skirting past him and walking out into the kitchen.

“i live here asshole,” you muttered, searching for your phone in order to go back to hiding in your room until the boys got back. you wanted to avoid conflict as much as possible but unfortunately, osamu had different plans.

he slid out in front of you, keeping you from leaving the kitchen and effectively trapping you in the encounter. “ya know that’s not what i meant. what were ya doing spying on me? gonna report back to yer little harem?”

you felt your face curl up in confusion which osamu apparently wasn’t a fan of, judging by the deepening of his sneer. “i have no idea what you’re talking about osamu, now let me go.” you attempted to push past him but he was too tall, too large, too strong and you were forced further back behind the island.

“no, i know ya tell em things about me. what were ya gonna make up this time, hm? what were ya gonna say to tsumu to make him hate me even more?” he spoke down on you, his words filling with more and more venom, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t keep yourself from cowering in front of him, your eyes filling with tears.

“osamu, please let me go, i don’t know what’s happening and i don’t know what to tell you to make you leave me alone,” your voice came out as a whimper, despite your best efforts and osamu faltered.

he’d never seen you like this, not once in your whole time living in the house, not even when most of the members were against you. you never showed weakness — you had a quiet strength most of the time and when you really got mad, as evidenced by your fight with meiko, you got violent.

but this? this was nothing like you. you were practically curling in on yourself, your arms wrapped around your chest protectively as if you were afraid he would... hit you.

oh god, oh god, osamu thought as he took a step back. what the fuck was he doing? he’d just been yelling at you, cornering you and not giving you room for escape, even though your body was clearly begging for it. you viewed him as a legitimate threat to your safety and that thought chilled him to the bone.

“yn, i—“ osamu was interrupted by the door slamming open, revealing everyone returning from the mall with atsumu at the head of the group.

“tsumu!” you choked out before pushing past a now distracted osamu and running right into his twin’s arms. he wrapped them protectively around you while whispering reassurances to you before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

the two of you held a quiet conversation that no one else could hear but osamu could guess the contents when atsumu glared up at him, looking absolutely furious.

sakusa, kuroo, and kenma gently took you into their arms, allowing you to cry quietly while atsumu stomped over to osamu before jamming his finger into his twin’s chest.

“what the hell did ya do to her, samu?” he growled, shoving osamu’s back into the island behind him. osamu allowed him to, too in shock and ashamed to protest, much less fight back.

that didn’t stop atsumu from pressing, asking question after question, none of which osamu could answer. “answer me! open yer fuckin mouth asshole and answer me!”

“atsumu, i-i’m sorry, i-“

“baby!”

a force barreled into his chest, thin arms wrapping around his waist and shoving her face in between his pecs. “it’s okay baby, i’m here,” meiko whispered in between kisses to his collarbone, her presence doing little to soothe him as his eyes darted around the room.

atsumu still looked as angry as ever but he kept his mouth shut as meiko rubbed more of her makeup on osamu’s black t shirt in her attempts to comfort him. you were staring him down as well with tear tracks staining your cheeks as sakusa rubbed circles into your back and kenma wrapped his arms around your waist. sugawara, bokuto, and kuroo were standing at your sides, eyeing him with contempt while oikawa and akaashi were deep in conversation with yachi who seemed to be stressed out of her mind.

osamu searched further and his eyes landed on daichi standing the furthest away, his eyes fixed on where meiko lied in osamu’s arms, his face full of hurt and... disdain? anger? disgust?

it was confusing so osamu quickly averted his eyes, instead choosing to focus on the woman in his arms who was now whimpering and shaking in her 4 inch heels. hesitantly, he lifted his arms to hold her closer before bending his head to breathe her in, his eyes fluttering shut at her unique smell of hairspray, brown sugar perfume, and chinese food.

“osamu,” sugawara spoke up after a moment of silence, “there’s something i need to tell you. we saw meiko ki-“

“babe? what’s going on?” a new voice rang out from the still open doorway, meiko clearly recognizing it as her head darted up to watch as the group moved from the door to reveal...

“...suna?”

℗ poker face

disruption

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - AHAHAHHAAH >:3 i was wayyy too excited for this chapter muahahha also so many of y’all guessed suna right but i couldn’t answer cs i rlly wanted it to be a surprise!!!! soooo if u guessed it right, feel like a baddie :) KSJ m so so excited to see y’all’s reactions so don’t forget to feed me ;)))))

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

The Bitch is Back

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (OTP)

Words: ~2.8k

Summary: You run into Ransom’s cunt of an ex again and it goes about as well as expected.

Warnings: explicit language, Ransom looking like a whole snack, fluff, that blonde bitch, Linda being a cunt, extremely abusive language and allusions to past emotional abuse, more angst than I had intended, my undying love for these two idiots, too many feelings

A/N: I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her, I hate her! Sorry everyone, the angst took over this one and what I had intended to be another fun romp a la Girl Fight turned into a pit of emotion that I couldn’t dig myself out of. I’m gonna go cry.

“Baby, you know we can just go home, right?” Ransom gave you a tired but indulgent smile when he looked at you, tucking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back so he could look into your eyes while you swallowed thickly.

“No, I’m not gonna give your mother the satisfaction of seeing me duck out of this thing.” You got that stubborn set to your jaw that told him to quit trying to take care of you, because proving to his bitch mother you could actually make it through one of these stupid events without causing some kind of scene was more important than your comfort right now.

You felt bile rise in your throat and swallowed it again. This was fucking ridiculous, you weren’t even on a boat, just the dock. But you still felt like you were going to vomit at any second, watching the motion of the boats rocking on the water making your gut lurch. It almost made you wonder if Linda knew about your stomach’s aversion to being on water when she had insisted on the two of you attending their fucking sailing club’s final regatta.

“Here we go, one scopolamine patch.” You could’ve kissed Anne when she handed it to you, grateful that Ben’s boat was moored in this marina so you didn’t have to spend the rest of this stupid thing constantly swallowing your own vomit. “Why didn’t you bring your own?”

“She said she’d be fine if she didn’t actually go on the boats.” Ransom ignored the glare you shot him when he talked to Anne over your head, rubbing your arm softly when he pulled you closer to him.

“Did I tell you how much I hate that you two get along?” You frowned when Ransom pressed his lips to your hair, slapping the patch on your neck and sighing when you felt your stomach start to settle.

Anne just laughed at you, shaking her head as she sipped on her cocktail and leaned against Ben. The fact that this guy actually treated you like you deserved did a lot to endear him to her, even if he was an asshole sometimes.

You had been worried at first about introducing Anne to Ransom’s idiot friends, no matter how much they had grown on you. But your friend could hold her own, her no nonsense attitude endearing her to the girls as she chewed out Logan for some dumbass comment while Dylan and Chaz just chuckled that now there were two of you.

This was one of the few things that you actually felt out of your element with, since you could not give a single fuck about sailing with your stupid seasickness. But you could tell Ran was enjoying himself, and every fucking time he got near the water he looked so fucking windswept and dreamy so it was well worth the nausea. That was all gone now though, the scopolamine making you feel just the tiniest bit drowsy and pleasantly warm while Ran pulled you tight against his chest as he whistled for his team’s boat between nuzzling himself into your hair with pleased little hums. Even Linda giving you some vicious side eye couldn’t break you out of your good mood, the warmth of Ransom wrapped around you like a balm for your typical nervous energy. Then you heard Jess mutter an “oh shit” and the sound of a bratty, whiny voice broke right through your pleasant haze and made your spine stiffen.

“Rannie?” That fucking blonde bitch would show up to something like this, just to ruin your day. “I thought that was you. Oh, still with your tramp, I see.”

“Sloane.” His grip around you grew almost painfully tight, growling into your neck as he did his best to take deep breaths. “Don’t you have some puppies to skin, or something?”

You grabbed his hand and wound your fingers through his as you felt him tense up, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist in an attempt to help him calm down. It had been your sincere hope that after you beat the shit out of this cunt you would never have to see her again, but when had you ever been that lucky?

“Aww, Rannie, thought you couldn’t talk without this bitch’s permission.” She looked mildly uncomfortable when you shifted your gaze to her, your eyes narrowing in a warning that she chose to ignore. “Been missing you a whole lot, baby, when’re you gonna stop slumming around?”

“What the fuck do you want, Sloane?” You were chanting over and over in your head that you were not going to fight this cunt, catching Anne starting to square up from the corner of your eye and giving her a small shake of the head to get her to stand down.

“I’m not talking to you, slut.” She must’ve been drunk, you had definitely taught her her lesson last time. “Just because you can give this bastard a good, sloppy fuck doesn’t mean you get to keep him. You don’t know what he really needs, and he’s too fucking stupid to tell you. God, you’re only sticking with him because he’s such a good fuck, right? That’s like, his only redeeming quality, except for the money. And you and your low class pussy don’t even know what to do with such a fine piece of eye candy.”

“Ok, you need to leave, Sloane.” Ransom may have been full of the anxiety he always felt around his ex, but the way your whole body was wound tight like a spring let him know you were ready to get violent. So he pressed a brief, soothing kiss to your hair and moved to guide this drunk bitch away from another beating.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, god, you really are a fucking moron.” Sloane jerked away from him when he tried to guide her away from your group, turning and sneering derisively at him. “Fuck’s sake, Linda was right, she really should have aborted you so we wouldn’t have to deal with your stupid bull shit.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” You reached your arm out to grip Ransom’s shoulder on instinct when he recoiled like he had been slapped, pulling him towards you protectively as you stared disbelieving at the people around you. “What the fuck did she just say?”

Sloane was just grinning at you wickedly as she sipped on her drink, like she had never and would never do anything wrong in her life. You almost forgot your promise you’d made to not get yourself kicked out of this event, but then Ran was clutching at your waist and making a choked sound and you turned back to him with concern.

There was no one to hold back Anne though, and she hadn’t made any promises about being on her best behavior. So she handed Ben her purse and punched that bitch right in the jaw.

You just gave a grateful look to your best friend before she bitch slapped that twat, security already starting to rush towards the fight as you guided Ransom towards the parking lot while he tried to regulate his breathing.

“Baby? Hey, Ran, look at me.” You’d never seen him look so completely lost, his eyes glistening with pent up emotion when you finally got him to look at you and you felt your heart break. “Oh honey, can you make it to the car?” He just nodded at you as another strangled sob escaped his throat and every fiber of your being ached to give him some form of comfort. “Ok, gimme the keys.”

He handed them to you and you wound your arm around him to guide him towards the beemer, letting him lean heavily on your shoulder and murmuring soft, soothing noises to him as you tried to think of something you could do for him. You knew that bitch was an abusive piece of work but Ran had been so hesitant to talk about it and you didn’t want to push him about it before he was ready, but if the way he reacted to her barb was any indication of how she treated him you might end up killing that bitch.

Ransom’s breathing seemed even more ragged by the time you reached the beemer, barely giving you a chance to shove the front seat down so the two of you could climb into the back and you could instruct him to stretch out over your lap. Your own throat was starting to get tight when he let out a wretched sob, the fingers of one hand running through his hair while the other smoothed over his chest as you watched his face closely.

“Baby, I need you to breathe for me, ok?” You were trying your best to keep your voice low and even, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to mirror your actions until he was pressing his face to your stomach with a piteous whine once his breathing had regulated slightly. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, Ran, just keep breathing.”

He sighed deeply when you continued murmuring soft words of praise to him, his fingers curling over yours on his chest as he looked up at you and felt the softness of your gaze spread like warmth through his body.

“I’m sorry.” He moaned when you pulled gently on his hair, his voice raspy with the tears he’d managed to swallow.

“No, baby.” You curled over him and brushed your lips over his forehead, trying not to cry when he wrapped his arms around your neck and let out another shaky breath. “You don’t apologize, ever, you hear me?”

“I thought I was over this shit.” He buried his face in your neck and breathed deep, your warm scent washing over him and finally making him relax. “I don’t want to put this on you.”

“Listen to me, Ransom.” You pulled back a little so you could gaze into his eyes, resting your forehead against his and maneuvering until you were laying next to him across the backseat. “I don’t know if you really think I’m just with you for the sex or what, but when I say I love you, I fucking mean it. I love all of you, so much, and that means that you can put all of it on me, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fuck, I love you, too.” He whined when you pressed your lips to his gently, drinking you in and pulling you to him as tight as possible when you let him deepen the kiss. “Need you so much.”

“I know, Ransom, I’m here.” You moved your lips up to his cheeks when he finally let his tears start to fall, kissing each one that stained his cheeks as you splayed your body over his while he held you. “My sweet boy, it’s ok. Let go for me, baby.”

He buried his face in your shoulder and did as you asked. It wasn’t loud or dramatic, but you could feel the warm wetness of his tears against the bare flesh of your neck while his chest heaved against yours. You cooed soft words of encouragement into his hair as he wept, letting a few of your own tears fall as you felt the tension slowly seep from his body.

Neither of you were sure how long you laid there tangled with each other, but eventually Ransom felt the last of the pain drain out of him until he was sinking against the seat with exhaustion. Having you there with him was like a balm for his soul, the way your eyes moved to search his once you felt him let out a deep sigh making his lips quirk in a small smile. His eyes were brilliantly blue from the tears he had shed, but you could see a glimmer of something hopeful there, and that made you relax. You sighed when he framed your face with his hands and pulled your lips back to his, the kiss chaste but full of emotion that he was too exhausted to vocalize at the moment.

“You ready to go home?” You pressed your hand over his heart when you leaned back a little, glad to feel that it had slowed down to a normal rhythm as he nodded for you. “Ok, you just stay back here and rest, alright? When we get home I’m gonna draw us a nice bath and we’ll just spend the rest of the day vegging.”

“That sounds good.” He watched you climb back into the front seat with a deep breath, squeezing your hand when you let it linger on his chest before letting you pull it away with reluctance.

You peeked at him through the rear view mirror before pulling out, relieved when you watched his eyes drift closed as he sagged into the seat and let his exhaustion take over. It almost hurt you how much you loved that man, and if you ever saw that cunt who hurt him again, there was a good chance you were going to jail for him.

Ransom was still dozing by the time you pulled up to the house, but he roused quickly when he felt you shake him awake. He let you help him out of the car and smiled warmly at you when you brought your hand up to cup his jaw, humming contentedly when you let him bury his face in your hair as you guided him into the house.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek once you were inside and instructed him to go to the en suite while you got some wine, watching him closely as he headed up the stairs before moving to grab a good bottle from the rack. There was a buzzing from your purse and you pulled out your phone, texting Anne that everything was ok and no, you didn’t need her to smash that bitch’s windows in. She was detailing all the ways she was going to fuck that cunt up and making you chuckle when suddenly the last caller ID you expected flashed across your screen.

“Can I help you with something, Linda?” You poured the Syrah into a decanter and moved to grab a couple of glasses, curious why exactly she was calling you.

“Y/N…” she sounded massively uncomfortable but you could not bring yourself to give a single fuck. “I just… I heard what Sloane said and I wanted to make sure Ransom was alright. He wasn’t answering my calls though.”

“Good for him.” You chewed on your lip as you considered what you wanted to say to her. “Was she lying?”

“What?”

“Did you tell your own child you should have aborted him? Or was that abusive cunt you kept forcing down your son’s throat being a lying bitch?”

“I never… I didn’t tell him.” She still sounded like she thought she was in the right, and you might have spit in her face if she was in front of you.

“Oh, but you said it, didn’t you?” You sneered and downed the glass of wine you’d poured when you saw her number pop up. She didn’t deny it, and you quickly moved to pour yourself another glass. “You’re a fucking piece of work, Linda.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” You could practically hear her spine straightening over the phone and you rolled your eyes at her. “You don’t know what it was like trying to raise him. Stubborn and spoiled and…”

“Goodbye, Linda. Don’t fucking call either of us again.” You hung up before she could continue, tossing your phone across the counter and draining your glass before grabbing the decanter and glasses before heading upstairs.

“Hey, baby.” He was already soaking when you walked into the steam filled en suite, his head leaning back against the edge of the drop in tub and giving you a lazy grin. “You have trouble picking a wine?”

“No.” You set the decanter and glasses on the tray at the tub’s edge and pinned your hair off your neck before getting undressed and sliding into the water with him. “I had to talk to your mother.”

“Oh, you had to?” He pulled you against his chest and sighed when you tucked your face into his neck.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure she didn’t disturb us for the rest of the weekend.” You took a deep breath when he started trailing his fingers over your spine, the warmth of the water seeping through your body and helping you relax as you sank into him. “You wanna talk about what happened?”

“Later.” His arms wound tightly around you, nuzzling into your hair and breathing in the scent of you that always made him feel like he was home. “Just wanna hold you for now.”

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