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#if there is someone out there in the void you’re free to try and convince me but idk /:
tellie-vision-art · 1 year
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Wanting more Priyaxel content but also knowing if I want it that badly I will have to make it myself bc it feels like no one actively ships it/makes content for it anymore 😭
I feel like a loser here in my corner hyped up over something no one else cares about and I’m kinda embarrassed about it 😩 like I have thoroughly convinced myself now that I am dumb for shipping it bc no one sees it like I do and people are perceiving me as weird and overdramatic about it 😔
#top ten saddest moments in history number one#sorry if you followed exclusively for Priyaxel content this might be the end of the road tbh#I still really like the ship obviously but I feel like no one cares and my hype over it is cringe to see#honestly I’m almost finished with the thing I am writing but#I might not even post it bc there’s no audience for it so what’s the point /:#and I feel like people wouldn’t like it anyway tbh that’s always what happens#maybe the world is not ready for my Axel has BPD/Autism combo headcanon#but also idk maybe I should post it and get told it sucks before I give up on it#I guess the real con here is if I don’t post it then I can’t post/finish the PMV either#but I could also post that in its unfinished state?#anyway sorry if I never post any of this stuff I really am not sure if there’s a point#if there is someone out there in the void you’re free to try and convince me but idk /:#when I started writing this thing it was a different world where Priyaxel looked like the most popular ship#and now it seems like everyone dropped it for Ax*lle 💔#see and Idek if I could just do a big text post with my thoughts on them either bc they’re so specific which was the point for writing 😭#lmao I’m the meme of that ant packing up and leaving#ok but for real if I don’t finish the PMV I WILL post the unfinished version in the tag bc that took effort#sorry this is so gloomy I just feel kinda sad and demotivated#like it was so exciting when I first watched the season and discovered a ton of people shipped it and now…#alas I can always recycle my ideas for OCs that never fails me just fails everyone around me that wanted the canon characters#but damn it I am disappointed too when I go in the TD tag and all I see is Ax*lle#I have spoken too much you get the point by now I just feel /:
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sweetbbarnes · 11 months
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Jealous
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TFATWS!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky had no idea you could get so jealous over him. He’s not complaining, though.
Warnings: nothing much, jealous!reader, mentions of reader being insecure about herself (no body descriptions except from a part where it says that reader has calloused/scarred hands), a tiny hint at reader and Bucky having sex (you have to squint)
A/N: PLS I have nothing against long pink nails that’s actually how my nails are right now
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I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY STORIES TRANSLATED, COPIED OR POSTED TO ANY OTHER SITE/APP/ACCOUNT. DO NOT STEAL MY WORK.
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You have absolutely no right to feel like this.
The almost unbearable pang in your chest grows sharper and sharper as you observe the vibrant red lipstick luring Bucky into a conversation that leaves you to wonder what could be so intriguing. Oh, I actually know what’s so intriguing, you think to yourself as your eyes dart over her too revealing outfit. Talking, talking, talking. You summon the word like a mantra, repeating it over and over again in your mind, desperately trying to convince yourself that everything is fine. They’re just talking, right? So what if her hand and her stupidly long pink nails are strategically resting on his chest? What does it matter if she’s wiggling her hips all the time to show off? Everybody does that, it means nothing!
“You okay there, kid?” Sam asks, concerned, using the old nickname even though he knows you’re a little too far from being a kid now. “You look like you want to murder someone”
You shift the gaze towards your friend, attempting a smile that could honestly be mistaken with a grimace. “Just tired.” Your reply is barely audible over the unnecessarily loud music pulsating through Sharon’s mansion. They’re just talking.
“I must say,” Zemo unfortunately started with his infuriatingly smug grin “I never took you for a jealous woman”
“Jealous?” Sam repeated the infamous word, a little confused.
“Shut up, Zemo.” You reply dryly, shooting the man a glare that would make Bucky proud, if only he was paying attention to you and not some random woman’s boobs.
“She’s jealous of the pretty lady who’s captivating her soldier’s attention.” Zemo annoyingly elucidates the situation to Sam.
You watch, tortured, as Sam’s confused expression morphs into one of understanding as he gives Zemo a knowing look. “Y/n, if you’re-”
“I am not jealous and he is not ‘my soldier’.” You snap, your words coming out a little louder than you intended. Feeling frustrated in front of the truth Zemo just shoved at your face, you storm off towards the bar and ask the bartender for a beer.
You’re trying to ignore it. You really are. But your eyes can’t seem to abandon the enchanting figure across the room. She’s tall, stunning, feminine. Her skin is probably soft, void of the calluses and scars that mark your own — you wonder if Bucky can feel the softness through his shirt where she’s touching. She walks around in a piece of cloth that leaves too little to the imagination as if she fucking owns the place. Her lipstick matches so perfectly with her skin tone that if you didn’t know better you'd think she invented the color red. Every single aspect of her mere existence seems particularly designed to piss you off - but that could just be because her taste in men is pretty similar to yours. And there stands Barnes, wearing that infuriatingly sweet smirk of his, clearly enjoying the attention.
He can flirt with pretty girls. You tell yourself, trying to see things through a logical lens. He's a single, independent, free man. He can do whatever the fuck he wants. 
That much is true. To some extent.
See, he is single, and independent, and free. The only problem is, he had been flirting with you for the past two weeks — ever since Sam called you asking for help with the flagsmashers and Barnes forced his way into the situation. Or at least, you thought he was flirting. You could’ve read too much into his actions. But then again, if you were overanalyzing it, so were Sam and Zemo, because they just won’t stop teasing you about it.
Out of the two, Sam’s teases are the worst, of course. The damn asshole knows all too well that you had been pinning over Barnes since the day you helped save him years ago, back when everything was simpler. But then Wakanda happened, followed by Thanos, the blip, and the soul-wrecking taste of losing Bucky — and everyone else — for good. Then he came back, and now here you are, still hopelessly infatuated with the same dude.
Only now things are a little bit different. Because he had been gone, and in the time he was away, you had aged five years. He no longer addresses you as "kid," and you’re pretty sure you had caught him stealing glances at you when he believed no one was looking. Glances that resemble the way a man looks at a woman. Or so you desperately hoped thought. But all those fragile beliefs are now on the verge of shattering as you watch him giving the pretty lady a look that threatens to extinguish every ounce of hope you still hold onto.
"For someone who claims she's not jealous, you sure seem to be," Sam playfully mocks, breaking the silence as he sits in the barstool next to you.
You let out a heavy sigh. "Don't start."
"Are you going over there?" Sam asks nonchalantly.
"And say what? Hey, Barnes, I know we don't have anything and I have absolutely no right to be jealous, but could you please stop flirting with pretty women when I'm around? It really fucking stings?"
"It's a start," Sam shrugs.
You scoff, grabbing another beer from the bartender.
"If you're not willing to resolve it, at least stop glaring at the woman like you want to decapitate her," Zemo, much to your annoyance, joins the conversation.
"Since when do you care?" you retort, irritated with the audacity of this man.
"I don't. Just trying to be helpful," Zemo replies casually.
"Well, you're not," you roll your eyes.
"Although,” he adds after a moment of much appreciated silence, “if you're genuinely jealous, I suggest you don’t look now."
The smartass knows exactly how to get under your skin.
Shifting your gaze to where Bucky stands allowing himself to be drawn by cheap men-hooking techniques, your mouth suddenly dries. Planted far too close for your liking, the woman seductively whispers something right next to his ear as her hand caresses his bicep.
He’s not mine, you remind yourself, desperately trying to push the jealousy that threatens to consume you.
He doesn't owe me anything, you reason, the logical side of your brain trying to establish control.
I don’t have the right to feel like this. You shove your half done bottle into Sam’s chest, who holds it with an exasperated look directed at you.
I have absolutely no right to be jealous. You scold yourself as your legs start moving of their own accord, marching towards the pair.
You're nothing to him, you repeat in your mind, determination guiding your steps. When they finally notice your presence, it’s too late. You had already positioned yourself between them, fully facing Bucky.
"Excuse me, we were in the middle of a conversation," the pretty lady interjects, her tone doesn’t hold any particular hostility but her words irritate you nonetheless. How dare she flirt with your man?!
You turn your head towards her, lifting one eyebrow in a display of unimpressed indifference, before decisively returning your attention to Bucky. Grabbing him by the collar, you pull him closer and fervently press your lips against his.
Startled by your sudden attitude, he takes a few moments to fully register what the hell is going on, but as you refuse to back down, he slowly encircles his metal arm around your waist, raising his other hand to your cheek so he can hold your face and properly kiss the woman he’s been head over heels for since he came back to his senses when Steve saved him.
As Bucky deepens the kiss, taunting your parted lips with the tip of his tongue, the world around you fades into insignificance. The pent-up emotions, the frustration, the longing, and the overwhelming uncertainty, everything melts away in the intensity of the moment. Time stands still as you grant him full access to your mouth, both your stubborn natures fighting to dominate and control the kiss.
Realizing you need oxygen to survive, you release your grip on Bucky's collar, breaking the kiss but keeping your eyes locked with his. The unspoken words and long cultivated desires building up a tension one could cut with a knife.
The soldier's piercing gaze searches for yours, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something else flickering within the depths of his ocean blue eyes. Without actually thinking about what he’s doing, his grip tightens around your waist, pulling you closer. For a brief moment, you don’t dare say a word, the gravity of the situation sinking in, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the newfound territory you had just barged your way in.
But obviously, because Bucky is Bucky and you are you, that signature smirk of his slowly starts to show itself, and you somehow know what’s about to come.
“Well, darlin’, if that’s what you do when you get all riled up, I should probably find some more ladies to flirt with.” He teases, lightly squeezing your waist.
“Don’t push it, Barnes.” You fake scold, trying to hold back a smirk of your own.
He lowers his head until his lips are right next to you ear, so close that you can feel his warm breath as he speaks, “though if I got this attitude whenever you make me jealous, dollface, I have a feeling we’d be kissing a lot more”
A delicious shiver runs down your spine as you tease.”You keep the sweet talk, Sarge, and we’re gonna end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom.”
Well, you did end up in Sharon’s spare bedroom. And the bathroom. And the kitchen. And every single room in his apartment after you went back home. But that’s a story for another time.
Bonus:
Sam scowls as he watches the pretty lady storm away from you two, reaching his back pocket to get Zemo’s twenty dollars.
“I hope you know this is the last time I make a bet with you.” Sam mumbles, displeased, sipping the beer he knows very damn well you won’t be coming back to get.
Zemo shrugs nonchalantly, tucking away the money both of them know he doesn’t really need, but holds immense satisfaction as it represents his symbolic triumph over the bet. He smirks. "I must remind you, I did mention I could be quite persuasive."
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botherkupo · 2 years
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Talk of aroace stuff reminded me of a short story I submitted to a NZ journal. Got told it was a very strong contender but alas. Not meant to be this time
Anyway I don’t have plans to do anything more with it, so enjoy
Empty Chip Packets
I remember my childhood. Bare feet running on grass, dodging the sting of prickles. Pink smears of zinc on my freckled nose. Treasured toys. Squishing hot sand between my toes. Birthday cakes and a little girl wearing a schoolbag far too big. It was an adventure of new beginnings, of finding my place in the world.
“Who’s your crush?”
My friends liked to ask that question. It was an exchange of secrets between us girls, a giggling rite of passage I was expected to follow. But I never had an answer. Maybe the butterflies that were supposed to flutter their wings in my stomach were still asleep. Maybe my heart just preferred to follow its own beat for now, because the boy who made everyone laugh in class was just a boy to me, and I felt no urge to plaster a celebrity’s face on my bedroom walls.
“Who’s your crush? Who’s your crush?”
I got tired of the question. I lied. It was Max, the boy who sat behind me. It was Legolas, that elf guy in Lord of the Rings. I lied so much that I almost convinced myself it was true. Maybe these people were my crushes. Maybe it didn’t matter if butterflies never stirred their wings for me or that no one could colour my cheeks with pink blooms of heat. Maybe someone was cute simply because everyone else thought so.
Maybe.
A boy asked me out when I was twelve. I don’t remember his name, but I know I felt nothing. Not a thing. It was just weird, like being handed an empty chip packet or a flower stem with no bulb. I said yes anyway, because that’s what you do, right? Have crushes, get boyfriends.
We kissed. His lips were a caress of wet awkwardness, lingering like a sticky tattoo. I didn’t like it. Couldn’t. Just looking at him made me feel like I was holding that empty chip packet again—useless, unwanted, but now it was worse. Now, there were bits of crumbs getting stuck in my clothes, under my skin, itching and itching and itching until I couldn’t stand it anymore.
We broke up.
“It’s just because you’re young.”
“You’ll find the right person one day.”
I clung to those words. Clung and clung and clung, even as years passed. Maybe I’d got it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t boys who could spark something in my blood. Maybe it was girls. But affection was not the same as attraction. Hugs could not satisfy when a partner wanted more. It was a lesson I didn’t want to learn, but it wedged its way through my bones, through the little gaps in my ribcage, and etched itself into my stubborn heart.
That’s when I knew. There was a void carved into my chest where no seeds could grow. No love. No desire. I was a broken thing, viewing people as if they were paintings lining a grand gallery hall—some I admired, some I cherished, but never more than that.
I was stuck following the beat of my own heart, walking a path that didn’t seem to fit anywhere.
“Hamish really likes you. You should give him a chance. Just one date.”
It frustrated me, the way people thought it could be so simple. It repulsed me that someone could like me even if we’d barely spoken. Objectifying. Violating. Their attraction was like nails digging into my flesh, because they didn’t know me. They didn’t know. They saw a pretty face and somehow that was enough.
I wanted to rip their desire to shreds, wanted to throw the scraps in their faces. It was useless. It was all useless.
I wanted to be that child again, running barefoot on the grass, dodging prickles and laughing with my friends. I wanted to squish hot sand between my toes. I wanted to be free from the ghost of the unplanted seed, from the demand to make roots grow from nothing. I wanted the pressure to stop, stop, stop.
But I couldn’t be a child again. I was trapped in a gallery of paintings, trying to find meaning in empty chip packets. I wasn’t supposed to be more comfortable on my own.
Romance is the endgame of life, the final rite of passage before death, or at least that’s what everyone seems to think. Fall in love, find your other half, have kids. It’s the happy ending found in fictional worlds and on television screens. It’s the truth shoved down our throats from birth. Lust is just the in-between, the blood-jumping itch that can only be eased by physical gratification.
There’s no room for someone like me. Not worth a story, not worth a happy ending, forever told that I’m missing out, that I’ll find this fabled One who can touch my blood with thunder and fire, and suddenly everything will be okay. I’ll be normal. I’ll be fixed.
But maybe I don’t want to be fixed. Maybe I don’t have to be.
I’ll carve my own space in this world. I’ll plant the seeds that matter to me. Love for family. Love for a friend. I’ll follow the beat of my own heart and embrace the future with open arms.
Because I was never broken. I never needed to find my other half. I am complete.
I am me.
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wenwenbittercake · 1 year
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Chapter 2: Guilty🍒
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✨(TW: Kidnapping, Suicide, mention of SA) ✨
An irritating white light woke you up from your slumber. The first thing you feel is soft. You feel like lying on multiple cushions. You lazily open your eyes, adjusting to the light, trying to get a grip of what’s going on. The last thing you remember was you walking back home. Your limbs feel heavy and your entire body feel sore like you have been throw all over the wall. You groans as you slowly get up then you felt it, your entire body is in some sort of restrain that is connected to the ceiling. The 3 walls and the floor is cover in cushions seemly to protect you. You look in front of you into the black void. You can’t make out what’s beyond the darkness but you sense that someone is definitely there. Something sinister.
“Did you have your beauty sleep?” a voice of a man emerges from the dark.
You instinctively back away from the dark, shifting back until the hit the soft cushion wall. The owner of the voice emerge from the dark and your stomach drops.
“N-Norman?”
“You remember my name. Good. There’s no need for introductions then.” His blurry white eyes stare off to the distance
You wish he could see the fear in your eyes and feel an ounce of mercy for what ever he is about to do next.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t kill her.” You try to sound strong, but your quivering voice didn’t convince him enough.
“No, you didn’t, but you could have prevented it.” His face shows no expression, but you can see annoyance and anger in his tone.
He was right, you should have just tell the truth to the judge. You should have refused that money Alice parents offered. You should have just called the cab no matter how Cindy scream or cried. You have no rights to talk right now, but you didn’t kill Evelyn.
“I-I understand, she killed her and you wanted her to pay. I get it.” You try to reason with him but all hopes are dragged down with his next words.
“You understand nothing. Only a parent knows the bond between a father and his child. Cindy, she should have gone to prison but rich girls don’t go to jail.” What he said is right. In a society like this, rich people like Cindy can do what ever they want and get away with it. You get it but why should you pay for the mess Cindy did?
“Why did I get kidnap, why not Cindy?”
“Cindy is dead.” The silence after those three words is enough to show how you feel. You can’t believe it, that’s why you didn’t see a sight of her during these past days. Did he kill her?
“She hanged herself a few days after the trail. It seems she couldn’t handle the guilt.”
This isn’t right, Cindy isn’t the type of person to kill herself. Yes, what she did was horrible, but you know Cindy. She doesn’t feel sorry enough for anything to kill herself.
“You may not be behind the steering wheel but you are as guilty as one and you know that.” You sob uncontrollably, fearing for the worst. Will he torture me for Cindy’s sins? Will death be more merciful than what’s about to come?
“You took my child, it’s only fair if you give me a new one.” Norman said as he approached you from the dark.
His face is now clearly shown under the white light. Half of his face is covered in scars. He sat in front of you, staring directly at you as if he’s looking straight into your soul.
“No, NO you can’t please. You can’t do this. I’ve never- “
“I am not a rapist; I won’t violate you.” His voice is stern but hoarse.
“I will free you to go back to your live after 9 months after you give me a child. I am a patient man, I will wait until you accept these terms. Until then, you will stay in this basement.”
He stood up and left but before he disappear from your vision he said, “You’re young, strong, you will breed well.”
You are hit with realization, fulling understanding the weight of the matter. You can’t, you won’t. You don’t want to have a child with a monster.
“Noooooo.”
You screams in the dark cellar, the cry and pleads for help dies down in to the dark. You need to get out. You Must get out.
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(Thank you so much for reading this monstrosity and yes I will post further chapters depending on how my previous works do. Make sure to drop a like if u like this post and my apologies if there's any grammar errors. Here's chapter 1🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒✨🍒
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Honestly, I don’t mean this in a rude way but I just don’t get your whole thing. Maybe you can explain? Ive been following In Defiance if the Stars and people love it, but I’m convinced you have no idea where it is going and it shows. It also just seems like instead of writing fics that give people what they want you have to go on some high horse where you try to explore and psycho-analyse every character. It’s not that serious. you know what we want and just over complicate it all. It’s so frustrating because people in this fandom seem to think you are so amazing and gush for every WAY TOO SHORT chapter or one shot. There are so many fic writers who get to the point and don’t stretch everything out with unnecessary descriptions. fic writers who are doing way better work and giving actual romance and only focusing on the main couple so no one has to slog through a side love story that isn’t a ship we care about or like. Its not hate to you but i don't get why they don't get the same response when they deserve it way more for giving people what they WANT. I keep reading your stuff because people say it’s “so great” and I just never see it. So many hours I’ll never get back. 
Um. No. I … I can’t explain. But thanks for the very confusing spiral. I’ve actually never gotten a hate message from someone in the same fandom as me so …
You know I don’t get paid for this right? Like I’m not selling anything or getting a dime out of ANY of this? None of us are. We do it because we like it and this … this is just rude to everyone?
Posting at the rate I do actually takes a lot of ongoing effort and maybe I’m the idiot for continuously doing it but like … is this for real??? You’re complaining that people like the things I send into a void for free?
I’m gonna need an aspirin and a bit of a break after this one. Thanks everyone.
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I Love You More Than My Future Spouse
A/N: this is the first fic I’ve written in a long time and the first one ever for litg so I’m kinda nervous, but excited. Inspired by “I’d Have to Think About It” by Leith Ross (I also wrote this while getting ready for work so I apologize for any mistakes)
Suresh cheated. She couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth after finding that picture of the two of them. Suresh. Her boyfriend. The man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with. In bed with another woman. She felt like her whole world came crashing down on her.
He had come into her life years before and whisked her away. He made all of her wildest dreams come true. All of her friends told her how lucky she was, and she felt it. She felt it every time she looked at him and had her heart swell up with nothing but love. She felt it in the electricity in their every touch, no matter how small or simple. She felt it when they would take off and travel or go on some adventure he’d planned for them. But now…she didn’t feel much of anything.
She sat there and tried to listen to what he was saying, but everything went in one ear and out the other. The love of her life cheated. The one she assumed was her soulmate, betrayed her.
They ended up breaking up. She moved out and back in with her former roommates from before she’d met Suresh.
Everyone told her she would move on and love again, and she knew it was true. She also knew, however, that she would never love anyone the way she loved Suresh. She could meet someone tomorrow who’s nice and sweet and helps her pick the pieces of her heart back together with care, but they would never know her the way Suresh did. She would never be truly happy. She would live the rest of her life being content with someone and the life they would build together. No matter what, they would never measure up. She was under the impression that we all get one soulmate in life, and Suresh was hers.
In the meantime, she was technically a free woman. As free as anyone could be when you’re heart is forever tethered to the one who shattered it. She could travel, see the sights she never got to with Suresh, have the most amazing dinners and memories with other people, drink to her hearts content, try her best to live in the moment. She knew that these are the things people do to try to fill the void, and maybe they can convince themselves that it works, and maybe it will for her too, but there will always be something gnawing at her, telling her she belonged somewhere else. With someone else.
She imagined what her life would look like without him. She would probably end up getting married. Fill their home with the sounds of the pitter patter of their children’s feet. Everyone around her would praise her for the life she built and say things along the lines of “isn’t this better than anything you imagined when you sobbed in your bed over some boy in your twenties?” She would smile and nod, but the joy would never fully reach her eyes at the thought of “some boy”. He could show up and ask her to run away with him. Tell her he made a mistake and has been miserable without her for all of these years. Tell her he knows he’s probably too late, but ask her if she’s willing to take a risk. And she’s not entirely too sure if she would say no. Even if it’s the right thing to do.
She told herself that he never loved her as much as she loved him. He couldn’t have. If he did, he would have never been in the bed of anyone else knowing she was home in theirs, waiting for him. They had been going through a rough patch, but no relationship is without their troubles. They could have worked harder on communicating. They could have expressed their love for each other more. But even during their hard times, she never once even thought of straying from him. She knew what they had was worth fighting for. She knew it was more precious than diamonds or rubies, or anything else the world could offer.
She thought back to the time he went to meet her mother. It was a big deal to her, for them to meet. Her father had left when she was little and it had been just the two of them most of her life. She still remembered when her mother leaned over to whisper in her ear “he’s a good one, you better keep him around”. She smiled and it filled her heart with so much love to know her mother, who’d been through so much in her life, approved of Suresh. She knew how he came off in public, but in private he was a dream come true.
She can’t imagine having that with anyone else. She can’t imagine loving anyone else with the same power and force she loved him. No one.
He could show up on her wedding day, run down the aisle and reach her. Look disheveled and distressed, confess his love for her and ask her to reconcile. And she just might do it. She just might leave the person she was to marry seconds before it became official to be with Suresh.
Everyone has their weaknesses and Suresh is hers. He always has been and he always will be. Her kryptonite. Her hearts true want and desire. What he does to her, what he makes her feel, she’s not sure could ever be replicated. She’d learn to lie in the face of those she loves and cares for most when they ask her if she’s fine and she’s moved on. But she’s not and she hasn’t. She’ll never be over him. Her soulmate.
She knows that when she moves on it will only partially be filling the Suresh shaped hole in her heart. Things will never be the same with anyone else. And she doesn’t want it to be.
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creationfathers · 19 days
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"@ misha you are so lost and I am done playing this “one soul, two body” game with you. You abuse me because you think this is some kind of joke. Jokes on YOU because you are me. How does it feel to know YOU were the one who tweeted yourself 98 times? How does it feel to know that YOU are the one typing this very sentence. I know you are not happy. You are full of shit like always. Go get another acting gig and bullshit the rest of the world. I’m done with you. “Me”. I am so sick of trying to heal for the both of us when all you do is play me like a FIDDLE."
"@ misha Why do you think I disappeared of social media? I am literally working on a TRAUMA therapist from all of it. Nobody is defending me because the MAN is egotistical and uses his fame and non- profit to fool everyone . Wake up @ misha. I will not be SILENCED."
"@ misha And you don’t know yourself… @ misha how could you? Look at you. Terrified to experience yourself . Oh “Misha” that’s your name in that body? Right? But you don’t know anything about yourself. You’re so far away from yourself it’s getting scary. It’s getting so scary….. good luck on your spiritual awakening. Good luck bypassing “me” who is actually- just you in another body with poor grammar and boobs. Good luck out there fulfilling the endless void…. I can’t do this anymore. I am leaving this journey behind. I deserve to be happy too. You don’t choose yourself. See? You don’t. Because I AM you. Remember? Did this journey show you that yet? We have no free will. I was made to love you. You were made to love me. That’s what we call UNITY consciousness which we fail to reach. Time and time again. The world shows us that we mirror and bypass. The world has not brought us together, and it never will. Because we don’t know who WE ARE. We ARE lost . Get it? No healing will help us…. No amount of retreats, or presence will help us….. we are DOOMED on this journey. And I give up trying to love you. You don’t want me. You don’t want to experience yourself…. So goodbye."
"@ misha That’s you. In another body. Running from yourself. Abusing yourself. Feeling unworthy of love…. That’s you. Experiencing BOTH sides of the coin so how does It feel? Does it feel good to be self- aware? Do you like how you feel about our connection? @ misha  #twinflames #traumahealing#sanfransico  #darknightofthesoul"
"@ misha Thanks for having zero compassion. Not ever giving me a single clear response SHOULD have been my response, “hey amber your a WORTHLESS fan and I’m too cool to have any compassion for someone like you, I’m too busy having sex with my girfriend that I’ve had for a long time and toying with you on unsolicited accounts was my way of driving you to the nobadic point of insanity.” Thanks Misha. You’re a real STAND up guy. I have little to none of myself left. I have LOST all of myself after meeting you. All of my self- confidence, my sense of worth… has gone down the drain. You have never shown any kindness towards this “connection” im almost CONVINCED THAT IM crazy because who knows what’s real? I really hope this “twinflame” thing is just a diagnosable mental instability so I can make you go away with a pill. Loving you wasn’t fun. It took away all of me. You ruined my sense of self- worth as a person. I grieved over you for YEARS not months while you are just having fun with @ rachelminersgram and casually watching me go downhill and end up in hospitals over this “non existent “ crap connection. I hope the best for you and Racheal. She is better than me, more healed, more stable, I never deserved you . I’m too damaged and quite frankly I’m never going to be worth enough…"
she's legit crazier than a shithouse rat.
At this point I'm more connected to Misha than her. I think of something or talk about something and BOOM, he tweets about it.
(not all the time, but you know what I mean)
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squirsquirrel · 1 year
Text
Consider this as I have a lack of friends of which I can’t confidently confide in with these things. Having said that, if you are one of my friends (specifically one of you might understand where I’m coming from with what I’m about to say next) then please don’t worry about me because, well, you’re going to read for yourself and I don’t really think it deserves much further explanation than what’s written plainly here. If, however, it doesn’t make sense then all the better for everyone!
The need to feel like there was a mistake at some point in my life. 
Like, surely something must’ve happened? Otherwise I feel at a loss to everything. Nothing makes complete sense and if there’s no explanation for that thing then I just make it up? It’s very likely that I’m the one who made the mistake and likely, though not as likely, that someone else had made the mistake, but what am I supposed to do? I think it’s just the such and such “reward” that comes with something being mistaken which is comfort whether that is being comforted yourself or comforting another person. Or maybe I am just that touch-starved and have been for years. Honestly I can remember the last time I was hugged but it doesn’t quite fit the hug I need (I think?). It wasn’t committed? It felt obligated and maybe that’s my stupid brain being silly but that’s what it felt like and it wasn’t nice.
The other thing I guess is having room to speak. I’m seriously lost in my head trying to figure out when everything happened and why it did. How did I end up the way I have and what influenced me mentally to choose not to speak personally ever to someone who could help me. (I felt like I needed to specifically say someone who could help me because obviously I’m speaking my mind here on this site which can either be a void or something that a few people will notice, read, then move on with their lives like they should.) There are things, many things, I wish I could share with others just to see if my thoughts matches what others think but doing so requires a lot of trust and understanding (mainly trust though) and not that I think bad of my irl friends but I don’t think they can handle that. And as stated in a previous post long before this one, family are of no help to me whatsoever.
Some things that have come out from whatever all this is:
I am an adult. I can give myself hugs. (This is more of a joke than anything. It was something I thought of today and it really struck me how true it was lol)
Life is fine provided nothing happens. (Which is a huge thing to ask for and one that won’t be promised.)
If life sucks, make a new one. (Be creative, don’t worry about what others say or do to upset you, and learn to enjoy things. Sometimes this gets really bad (for example, a quick fix for me to forget anything sad is to just laugh and if anyone asks questions, say you were thinking of something else. Practise enough and it’ll be so convincing you’ll even convince yourself! (not guaranteed to work every time, please read the terms and conditions before applying method)), so do this in moderation.)
Taking the vow of silence. Ignorance is bliss. (Taking things to heart is sometimes a terrible thing and unfortunately in my case, I’ve done just that. These two sentences are what I’ve done and will continue to do, so please, if I ever clam up or shrug things off know that one of these two are taking place. Again, nothing to worry about!)
Be who you’re meant to be. (I’m an adult and so I should be an adult and be concerned for others. Well, that goes without saying for all ages almost, but what you should be concerned about varies/gets added onto with age. Be mindful and be wary. Take care and look out for everyone.)
And that’s about it, I think. I don’t understand why we get tired after confessing to something we’ve been holding onto for a long time. You’d think with relief you’d be filled with energy, just waiting to start starting and be free of what you’ve let out. But nope! But also it’s late for me so I do need to sleep.
What I’ve said here isn’t much of a concern. I said I don’t have friends I can fully confide in (the last and actually first time I did left me uncomfortable), so here I am doing the irresponsible thing by posting on the internet. I know I said I’d end it there but it amazes me how much of a little thing can stop us from doing something beneficial. I have freedom and I have choice but because of such and such and this thing and that, I simply can’t go and do what can help me. Instead, I shall type and respond and everything will be okay. Pretending isn’t even an option anymore because there’s no pretending when you’re living it.
Sorry if this upsets anyone and usually if you think something is going to upset someone you’d stop, take a breath and delete, but I don’t want to do that. I could keep this in drafts forever but I think that would cause more harm for me than not saying anything at all. I don’t know. Sorry again and for whatever reason you chose to read this in its entirety, thank you(?) and I hope you have a happy day/night.
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yesimwriting · 3 years
Text
The Needs of Pain
A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))
The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))
Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y
I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 
Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 
--
In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 
I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 
Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 
Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 
I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 
I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 
“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 
That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 
His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 
Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 
The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 
Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 
His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  
When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 
“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 
If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 
Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 
“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 
I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  
He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 
“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 
“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 
“And someone is responsible.” 
I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 
“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 
Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 
“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 
Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 
His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 
“What are you doing?” 
Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 
“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”
 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 
“Saints.” 
His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 
The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 
I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 
“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 
He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 
“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 
Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 
He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 
Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 
Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 
“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 
“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 
My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 
He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 
There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 
Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”
--
People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:
@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  
@we-love-our-bandz 
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animatedarchives · 3 years
Text
YOUR INSECURITIES BASED ON THE HQ CHARACTERS YOU LIKE
— 𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐊𝐈
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author’s note: hELLO EVERYONE we’ve finally come to the last school in the call out series for haikyuu: inarizaki!!! this features atsumu, osamu, kita, suna and aran :D doing this for the haikyuu characters was sO fUN so i hope i can end the series well for my boys ^^ enjoy!
other schools: the call out series masterlist
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𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔
you don’t know when to stop. you’re always pushing yourself far beyond your limits, forcing yourself to do more, more, more until one day, you finally break. so why put yourself through so much pain? it’s because you need to prove that you have value. but as good as recognition from others feels, the person you’re trying to prove your worth to the most is yourself. you never think you’re enough, so you’re always doing more to compensate. ultimately, you’re just trying to convince yourself that you aren’t as pathetic as you really think you are.
𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔
you have poor coping mechanisms. when you’re stressed or upset, you either eat too much or you eat too little. you sleep all day, or you don’t sleep at all. you burst out with emotion or you completely shut yourself off from the world. you know it’s unhealthy, but you don’t know what else to do. everything feels like it’s spinning out of control and this is the only way that helps you feel sane. your false sense of security. you just need someone to pull you out of the water, to be there for you and tell you that everything will eventually be okay.
𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀
no one treasures you, and everyone takes you for granted. you’re the dependable friend, the one others can seek help from when they’re struggling. but once you’ve helped them back up on their feet again, they walk away from you, going on with their lives and leaving you out of it until the next time they need you again. it hurts. it hurts to not be appreciated. it hurts that no one is there for you like you are for them. it hurts that you’re only important to others when they need something from you.
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀
there’s a void in your heart that you don’t know how to fill. you’re pessimistic, numb, and so very tired. you’re always neck-deep in your thoughts, which keep you up late at night because they’re the loudest when you’re alone. you often daydream and imagine yourself in a separate world because reality is cruel, harsh and painful. you act like everything’s fine, but deep down, you’re barely keeping it together. no one knows how truly sad and empty you feel. you wish you could just escape, to finally be happy and free.
𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍
in a group of three, you’re always the one left out. you get the least attention, either because the other two are closer to each other or they receive more attention from others than you do. you’re always the one in the background. sometimes, you wonder if they even remember you exist. everyone has their pairs except you. you just want to have your other half, the one person who will always pay attention to you and make you feel like your existence is worth something.
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© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Casual
Ranboo x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤
“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“
Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.
Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.
I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hey! Wh-...“
“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“
My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.
“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.
“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.
I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”
                                                             *  *  *
“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“
“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.
I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.
“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.
I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“
He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“
His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.
And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”
I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“
                                                            *  *  *
“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.
I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”
He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”
I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.
“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“
I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.
Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!
Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?
Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.
“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“
As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”
Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.
“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.
See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?
Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.
Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.
A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.
 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.
I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.
Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?
When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.
And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.
Damn do I wish I ran away now...
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bored-storyteller · 3 years
Note
Hello! I remember you said you could write for Sally Face even though it's not on your list (if I dreamed of it, excuse me 🙏), since you still look like you're in the fandom... How about the #4 of the prompt list with Sally Face? If you do not write for him I apologize 😭
Hello dear Anon! Yes, Sally Face maybe is the video game I'm most fond of, I can write for him, I just don't always feel like making the requests that come to me about this game. But don't worry! Asking is always fine! Thanks for the request!
P.s. This is more fluff than angst I think, I apologize, is that there is already a lot of angst for him
73- Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader
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From the prompt list
4- “Do you know what it’s like?”
Gizmo's purr lazily fills the silence in the room, the big cat is taking his ration of free pampering perched in your boyfriend's lap.
His fingers glide absently on the white and tawny fur of the half-asleep feline, while behind his mask you catch nothing but an absent gaze directed at the void between his knees.
By now that beautiful sky-colored eye of his communicates with you without the need for words, and you see how much it seems dull and lost, so much so that it appears almost glass like the one on the right.
Sal is always so sweet and so strong. He has so much weight on his shoulders, yet you always see him accepting everyone else's too. He never complains, he doesn't fidget, and he doesn't scream, not even when he gets angry, and if he does he apologizes as if he's at fault.
You love him, you really love him. You feel it in your guts, especially now, that he is like this.
You don't really know what's troubling him, yet you see how sad he is. His shoulders are bent slightly forward, and his blue hair slips free, covering even more of his usual mask.
Even though you know you are free with him, you are terribly afraid of hurting him. You're afraid of saying something too much, something he doesn't deserve.
As you leave the book you were reading by your side, you try to remember when Sal began to wither.
You noticed it after the last outing you did with the others, but you have no idea if those thoughts that seem to be spinning in his head were already floating around before, and you curse yourself for being so inattentive towards him.
"Give me space Gizmo" you mutter with a playful pout, picking up the lazy cat to move it a little further "I want the cuddles too."
Sal just cooes as his hands remain motionless, letting you nestle your head in his lap.
Once you are comfortable in your new nest, his fingers gently touch your forehead, while you are busy trying to come to terms with the big cat who insists on trying to stay on his master's lap too, at the cost to sit on your face.
“Come on Gizmo. Let me be a little jealous every now and then. " You snort, pushing the royal furry butt away from your nose.
"Are you jealous?" Sal's question is surmounted by the meow of the fake tiger who decides to snuggle in the hollow between your shoulder and your neck.
Your eyes roll up into his gaze and for a moment you don't know how to read that question. You feel him terribly serious, and in a way, you don't know where he is going.
"Yes ... I'm jealous of you ... that is ... is it normal I think?" You know that sincerity is always the best choice with him, but you still bite your tongue, wondering if you are giving the wrong idea.
His caresses have stopped while he silently looks at you, and you don't know what he's thinking, you don't know if you've unknowingly touched a nerve or if you just added a new thought to him.
"Why?" His question comes out as a surrendered sigh "You have no reason ... I say ... it is you who can make others love you, not me."
His words take your breath away for a moment.
"What are you saying…?" You murmur, as you raise a hand to touch his turquoise locks "you know how to make yourself loved even by those who don't even know how to love ..." you whisper softly, yet you don't seem to convince him.
His sigh becomes more impressive in the rumble of his mask, and you look at him patiently, while his hands undo the hooks that block it to his face.
Few people know what lies behind that prosthesis, and it hardly ever happens that he leaves himself so spontaneously in the sight of others. It's because it's you, you know, and it flatters you, yet something so immediate still surprises you.
You believe that his face is something magical, because no matter how grotesque it is, how almost you could say that there is no face, but you love it, you loved it from the first moment you saw it. Maybe because you were already in love with him.
"You were beautiful that night." His words still confuse you, and you force yourself to accept the idea of having entered a minefield. So you were right, was it your last outing that upset him?
"Sal ..." you get up, and now even Gizmo has realized he has to leave space for you, moving to the next pillow.
He doesn't look at you, his eyes are closed, but he continues to keep himself completely exposed to you.
"I really mean it. You are always beautiful to me, but that night ... that night you felt beautiful too, didn't you? You were, you really were, and ... "his shoulders give way a little further forward, as if he were about to collapse under an invisible weight. "And if you hadn't been with me, someone would have come to you. Maybe he would have offered you a drink and then ... "
Your lips part for a few seconds, looking for something to say, but you really don't know what ground you're walking on.
"I'm not really beautiful Sal, I'm just-"
"A normal person. What else do you want?" His abrupt interruption silences you.
In a moment his eye is on you again, alarmed: “Sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean to be bad. "He whispers softly.
Sal Fisher, always so attentive to others even in his moments of despair.
"Only that ... you ... do you know what it’s like? To be like that…"
His voice just trembles, and you forget to breathe. You would like to remove all doubts and insecurities from him, but you cannot do it.
"No ... no Sal, I don't know ..."
"That's okay ..." he murmurs, trying to console the guilt of your tone "I don't know what it is like to be you either, but ... it can't be so pleasant to kiss bare teeth ... right? It must not be pleasant to feel this dead flesh against your skin, and it must not be pleasant to wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and find this monster a few inches from your face ... I just think ... I just think you should know that you can certainly find someone else ... someone else other than me. "
You have always admired him, also for all the strength he has to live with that weight - one of many - that he carries with him. Perhaps subconsciously he has always found a way to make his flaws simply characteristics, his style. With or without his ponytails, Sal was always recognizable and, in a sense, charismatic.
But you know that even if he is so strong, so resilient, the weight does not disappear.
"Sally Face ..." you murmur softly, as you move your legs to be able to sit astride his lap.
"You know ... I've always looked for many things from life." Your fingers casually play with his tufts of hair "And I swear to you I never thought I'd find what's really essential to me right here."
Your palms rest gently on his rib cage as his slowly brush your hips.
"You might find someone different from me too, Sally Face, but I don't want you to, please." You just smile "Also because ... after a nightmare you are the first thing I look for, and when I find you ..." leaning forward you are greeted by the loving arms of your boyfriend, while you take refuge in his chest, snuggling up to his heart "I do this, and I stay listening to you until I fall asleep again. When you sleep peacefully you never notice, but you always welcome me. "
Curled up there on his chest like now, you have no idea what's in Sal's eyes. All you see are a few blue locks of him falling over your cheeks, while he lets you relax under his chin.
His silence leaves you on alert, and even if you don't move, you look for any clues that might tell you something about his emotions.
A slight tremor in his chest and a restrained sob from him make your heart tremble, but his slowly calming beat just makes you snuggle closer to his body.
"I-" he starts off lightly, but then stops immediately, and when he resumes, you're sure he's changed the subject, but it doesn't matter anymore. "Am I such a heavy sleeper?" He asks, with a shivering chuckle amid the slight gasps of silent tears.
You laugh lightly as you lift yourself up to look at him. In your hands, his cheeks are rough and wet, but even as tears flow from his eyes, he doesn't look agitated or hurt.
"Well, you recover the sleep that all your nightmares take away from you."
Your fingers slide gently under his eyelids to collect his tears. You don't ask him why he cries; you know that in his chest he has a reservoir where he keeps all his emotions and, every now and then, they pretend to come out.
"Wake me up next time you have a nightmare, you're always there when I have mine."
You smile softly as you rest your forehead against him. You wouldn't change him for the world.
"For once, let me take care of you Sal."
His sigh hits your nose as he snuggles a little more against you. Calmly it seems that he can channel his emotions into a single torrent.
"Take care of me?" He murmurs against your lips “How about picking up the phone and ordering a pizza for the two of us? It would make me very, very happy. "
Your cheerful laugh fills the room, while your lips touch what remains of his: "And the ice cream?"
"And the ice cream." He confirms as he accepts your sweet kiss.
There seems to be a long night of pampering with Sal and Gizmo ahead of you, what more could you ask for?
You gently kiss his cheek one last time, before getting up in search of the device to order your dinner.
"Hey ..." before you're too far away, your hand is lovingly held by Sal's "I don't want anyone else next to me."
Your eyes dive into him for a moment, and what you find is nothing but a clear and sincere sky that takes your breath away every time it lands on you.
"Me neither. I wouldn't want anyone else even for a single day of my existence. "
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allandoflimbo · 2 years
Text
Ashens (Part 32)
Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.
Final Part of ASHENS.
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Full story here:
ASHENS MASTERLIST
"You're safe." He says, exhausted.
You pull away from him, still keeping a hand on the side of his neck as you stare down his body.
"I'm safe? You— you're alive." You say almost in disbelief, "H-how? I-"
His metal hand goes to your arm and trailing it up to your face, he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I couldn't run. I had to be careful. That's why it took me so long," simple explanation that only but tore your emotions in two. A lonely tear runs down your cheek as he continues, "being an assassin for so long finally paid off. Except for the shot to my shoulder when I was a couple hundred of feet away from the exit." He ends with a grimace on his face and your face quickly falls, eyes going to his shoulder in panic, "Bitch hurt like a motherfucker."
"They shot you?"
"It bounced off the vibranium and grazed the skin. I'm fine. Nothing a couple of hours super soldier serum can't fix." He says, smile not nearly reaching his eyes yet.
You're still in shock.
You pull him down until his forehead against yours.
The small joking moment passes fairly quickly. A cool breeze blows through.
"I thought you were gone. I thought," you swallow thickly, "I thought we lost you."
Bucky's eyes close together and he leans down and runs his lips over yours in a gentle kiss.
"I'm here, baby."
Life couldn't get any sweeter than this. Of that, you were convinced.
+ + +
Three days of revised sleep shifts and sipping water and eating trail mix. Only thing that wasn't messy, wouldn't spoil, and could you fueled for just enough time. During your shifts when you were awake you watched with heart full as Bucky and Ashens slept contently, nightmares free.
During Bucky's shifts, his face remained blank and void of emotion.
He was scared to be real right now and for the right reasons.
On the evening of the third day, you finally arrived.
You did not expect this. You had even told the nice girl Jessica, before you left, that you doubted you'd ever even be back here after the mission. You figured you'd somehow end up getting yourself killed after courageously killing your parent's killer with your own hands just like you had pictured it for years in your head, and that'd you'd do it with your nemesis Bucky by your said.
Everything couldn't be further from what really happened.
Everything literally went not according to your plan, in the best way possible.
Walking through the familiar pathway between the bushes and passed two tress, the three of you (dirty from dirt, tired, and awfully hot) finally step foot into the familiar camp.
It was a quieter day than when you had first gotten there, but everything else remained the same, including the all too familiar guy with green/blue eyes trying to set up what looks like an extra tent in the far left side of the field.
Whispers and voices add in as the people look up to finally see the three of you.
Bucky lets out a long breath and walks towards Steve's direction, guiding you and Ashens along with him.
Steve is setting up a black tarp underneath the tent when he decides to look up towards the sound of foliage breaking underneath someone's feet. His mouth opens slightly in surprise when he sees you, and then Bucky.
His shocked expression intensifies when he sees Ashens next to you, and even more when he finally stands and his gaze lands on yours and Bucky's hands interlocked.
Interesting enough, those reactions last only a few seconds, and you know that if it weren't for you analyzing his every move, you wouldn't have even really noticed it.
There's a shine in his eyes and bright smile on his face as he walks over to you.
His strong gait makes something brew inside of you that causes tears to form in your eyes and it's then that you realize you survived, and you completed the mission, and that Ashen was dead. You did it.
You and Bucky did it.
Steve stops when he's about two feet away from the both of you, and he eyes the three of you one more time.
He turns to Bucky and they share a tight hug. Bucky lets go of your hand to hug his best friend back.
You watch their silent embrace with tears and it's then that you realize how close the two really are. You've always heard about it in stories growing up and on the outside looking in, but seeing it in person, the way Bucky's eyes close tightly in a way you hadn't really seen before, and Steve releasing what could only sound like a breath of relief, you realized how important it really was to them to be here right now.
Steve pulls away and he gives Bucky a pat on the shoulder followed by a squeeze.
"Not that I didn't think you'd make it, I have the upmost trust in you - probably more than anyone else on this planet, but —" Steve takes a deep breath and looks at you and down at Ashens before continuing, "I'm really glad you did it, Buck."
Bucky nods shyly and then looks at you.
You both share a long and intense look.
"We did it." He says quietly, searching your eyes for something that you weren't sure of. Steve's eyes narrow curiously between the both of you, noticing a change. Bucky reaches down for your hand again and then looks at Steve, "I know we're back early. There was some things that changed the timing; some things that came up. I can explain them to you and everyone in the main tent," your brows furrow as you realize he doesn't want you in on this.
"What? Bucky, what about me?"
His eyes go to you and his look is soft and not domineering. You backpack began to weigh even more on your shoulders.
"You have to get some rest." He says gently.
"Yeah, and so do you."
He looks at you sympathetically.
"Fine, but at least have some more water first, and we need to get you cleaned. I need to take care of you, too."
Steve's head goes back and forth at the interesting conversation between the both of you.
"I'm not thirsty right now and I can do that later." You retaliate.
"Baby —" Steve's perks a hilariously comical brow at Bucky's word choice and his mouth opens again.
"Hold on." Steve cuts through, a hand raised up to chest level. Both you and Bucky look at Steve and you watch his serious face analyzing Bucky's face.
"What?" Bucky asks genuinely concerned.
"Clearly I missed out on a lot." His jaw goes tight for a second and he smiles. He contemplates his words carefully, "Bucky, she'll be okay for a few more minutes while you both brief us. You can follow me, we actually just finished going over something so they should still be all there, but first," his eyes go to Ashens and back to you. This is the first time you find yourself scared under Cap's gaze. Was he disappointed? Being critical? You don't know even know. He looks away from you and kneels down in front of Ashens, "Hi." He greets him gently.
Ashens looks like he's seen a ghost and doesn't respond.
Steve looks at you with a raised brow.
"He's a captain America fan. He's shy." You say. Steve looks at Bucky and then back to Ashens.
"Alright, kid. I can do shy," he gives him a big smile, "right now I'm just going to take you to another tent and you'll be fine ,okay? It's just so us grown ups can discuss some things real quick, and then they'll come and get you. Okay?" Ashens nods and takes Steve's extended hand, "Great, come on."
You let out a loud sigh as they both walk away, not that far from either of you, and then into a smaller tent.
You watch as Bucky closes his eyes tightly again and he takes a deep breath. Your eyes narrow and you bring a hand to his warm-to-the-touch neck, making him fully face you.
"You okay?" You ask quietly.
He nods quietly.
"'M fine." He mumbles.
"Hey, we made it, okay?" You say, bringing him in closer so his forehead is on yours, "the hard part is over," he continues to keep his eyes closed, "look at me," he finally opens his eyes and he looks at you in a way that has you wanting to kiss him again. So you do. "We made it." You say against his lips.
Bucky opens his lips and he only gets a squeak out before a commotion comes up from behind him.
"They're here? Why didn't you tell us sooner, she needs to know-"
"They literally just got here two seconds ago, Jess."
"—and what do you mean they're acting different—"
Jessica's words are cut short as she eyes yours and Bucky's current position with the upmost curiosity, surprise, and definite amusement.
You and Bucky pull away from each other bashfully, knowing fully well everyone deserved an explanation for everything.
Jess smiles as she runs up to you and hugs you.
"I'm so glad you're okay."
"We are too." You respond. She smiles and looks between the both of you.
She reaches down and takes your hand.
"Follow me. There's something you should see."
+ + +
You weren't sure what to expect as your walked down the back side of the camp towards the river where you and Bucky had your first fight. You weren't sure what to expect when you saw the group of young people sitting next to a dingy table with screws and wires thrown on it, but seeing Will alive and breathing certainly was not one of them.
You're barely down the short hill when you coldly rip your hand out of Bucky's hands. You speed walk to Will, his side still turned to you. You don't know what Bucky's reaction to you leaving him behind was, but he would know why you reacted that way once he realized who this was. To be honest, that was the very last thing on your mind.
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Will was alive.
You feel the hot tears finally leak out onto your cheeks, shocking you. You didn't even realize you were crying so profusely.
You see the moment he sees you and he has no time to respond before you've already got your arms around his neck, sobbing into his chest.
He's still too stunned to saying anything, and his hand goes to the back of your head. He says your name softly and you sniff harshly into his shirt before pulling away. Wiping your nose on your sleeve, you look down at his at abdomen. You take your right hand and place it on his chest where you feel a very real and very sturdy heart beat.
"You're alive." You say.
He gives you the sweetest smile and grabs your hand, holding it against him.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"But— I—" you stutter shaking your head, "You died in my arms. I mourned you. I — I didn't feel a heart beat. I don't—" before he can explain you have him in your arms again, "Holy shit, Will." He laughs into your hair, leaving a small kiss on your head.
"Hey," the feminine voice behind you says. You let go of Will and turn to see Jessica and Will finally reach you. Jessica is smiling and Bucky looks like he's two seconds away from ripping Will's head off, "Look who's back."
"I don't underhand, how did you get here? How?" You ask in total confusion over everything.
He was dead. Or he had been.
"Nick went back to look for him after you described your trail and what had happened. Nick gets bored sometimes, apocalypse and everything now, so he likes to explore incidents." Jess starts.
"He found me with a weak pulse, but very much still alive. Brought me here and they helped me. They said I was lucky it was only a minor evisceration."  Will continues.
Guilt hits you like a ton of bricks.
"I left you there alive and hurt. Vulnerable and alone." You say with huge guilt in your tone.
"You didn't know, Y/N." Will responds.
"I should've." You say strongly.
"There's a chance that even if you knew and you continued to help walk him for miles it might've made it worst. We had a team of help. If it would've been just you it was a lost cause anyway."
"You basically saved my life leaving me there." Will says with a slight joke to his tone.
"How long was this ago?" You ask.
"I got here about five and a half months ago." He answers.
You run a hand through your hair.
Five and a half months.
Will looks at you for an extra second and then at Bucky who hasn't look amused, happy, or said even a word the entire time yet. Will doesn't know what to say, having seen you two holding hands just moments before. He felt awkward, not knowing how he should converse between the two of you.
"I'm guessing the mission went well?" Will asks.
"Sorry, shit," you turn to Bucky, putting a hand on his arm, "Bucky this is Will."
Bucky raises a brow this time, everything clicking, and looks at Will.
"Oh, hey," he looks him up and down and extends his vibranium arm for Will to shake, "Nice to meet you, finally."
Will tilts his head and looks at you with a small smile.
"Finally?"
Bucky continues shaking his hand, "Oh yea, she's told me a lot about you. You're the best friend."
Will smiles again at that and Bucky finally lets go of his hand.
Bucky  sharply turns to look at you, "You should come back and catch up with him after we're doing with our briefing." Bucky says sincerely, knowing how much your friendship with Will meant to you. He'll never forget the first time you told him about Will, minutes before you rode him for the first time.
"Oh that's right. We have to do this thing, and then I promise, I'll come back and we can talk more." You say.
Will looks between you and Bucky and nod.
"I understand. You two do what you need to do." You nod and take a deep breath.
Then, the reveal happens too quickly for everyone. You're taking Bucky's metal hand in yours, Will and Jessica both looking at it, and then you're saying "ow" and you limp forward and then Bucky's asking you if you're okay, vibranium hand going to your belly. "You okay? Is it the baby?"
Jessica's eyes widen and Will's mouth is agape as he stares down at Bucky's hand on your stomach.
You shake your head quickly.
"No," a small smile breaks over your face, "no, it wasn't that, I just accidentally stepped into a small ditch and it catapulted my weight down a bit." You chuckle.
Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist and helps you stand up taller. He places a soft kiss at the top of your head.
"Wait, you're pregnant?" Jessica asks suddenly.
You turn around slightly to look back at her, already have walked a bit away.
"Sorry, we were going to tell everyone later. Yeah." Your eyes catches Wills'. He's still a bit stunned, looking between Bucky, Bucky's hand, and you.
"Are you two together?" She asks, "like dating?"
Bucky gives Jessica a smile and it's the first time she's ever seen him do that before. It stuns her for just a moment until she finds it bittersweet.
"Yes, we're dating." He says simply.
"That's amazing. I'm so happy for you two."
"Thank you." "Thanks." You both say.
"Look, we really gotta go brief them now but I swear, as soon as I'm done, I'll have her back in time for the both of you, okay?" Bucky says playfully.
Both Will and Jessica gives you both a smile, Will's eyes lingering on yours for an extra second longer.
"We have a lot to catch up on." You tell him with a wink.
"Yeah. Yeah, we do." Will says with a small smile.
+ + +
"Bucky, the main tent is that way. Bucky, what are you—"
You're both passing tents you hadn't seen before and some fire torches that's been set up along the path for visualization.
"Shh, just in here real quick before we go." He says, pulling you into another tent you hadn't been in before.
You notice the larger cot on the far side and a solar powered lamp turned on next to it. On the far side of the table you see a large table with black boxes on it and some others up against the sides.
"What is this?" You ask with a sweet tone your voice that makes his heart swell.
It felt intimate in here.
"My room."
You raise a brow and give him a playful smile as you watch him sit on his bed.
You walk up to him as he watches you like he's stuck in a trance.
"Bucky." You say softly and with a small smirk, place both your hands on his shoulders. He gives you a dark look before removing your hand off the shoulder that belongs to the flesh hand. You're about to retaliate when he brings you near him with a nudge on your hip with his metal hand. This makes the edges of your lips perk up. "Are you trying to seduce me?"
He gives you a small smile.
"Are you seducible?" He whispers back.
You let out a chuckle.
"I shouldn't have let you watched that movie."
He continues to stare up at you as you both quiet down and his eyes are intense on you. The tone in the room shifts again to something a little more serious.
"Get down on your knees." You wonder where this is going and you sink down to your knees, obliging, "right down in front of me." He adds quietly, widening his legs a bit for your form to fit with him. You do as he asks of you, placing each hand on his knees to help you move easily in between his legs. He sees yours eyes go to his zipper for just a second and he puts his hand on your cheek, "not for that," your eyes meet and he scoots up until he's practically looking down at you, "I want to talk. Just us. Like this." he notices your slight fear in your eyes at his choice of words, "don't worry, I'm not breaking up with you sweetheart. I'll never do that," he leans his foreheads against yours, "ever." His thumb trails over your bottom lip, "tell me you're pregnant again. It'll be different this time."
You know exactly what he means. You scoot forward and place both your hands on either side of his neck. You take a deep breath.
"I'm pregnant."
He closes his eyes and hits the side of his nose against yours.
"When did you find out?" He asks quietly.
"Only a few days ago. I wanted to find the right time. When," your nose hits his again, "when we were saying goodbye I didn't think I'd get another chance," Bucky whimpers slightly, "I didn't think you were going to make it. I know it was selfish of me to risk mine and the baby's life like that. I shouldn't have run. I'm sorry." Bucky sniffs quietly remembering those exact moments.
A few long seconds pass by.
"I'm glad you told me when you did," he opens his eyes and stares down at you, "You know me more than anyone else in this world. You know —" you feel a heavy tug on your hair and realize it's his running his metal hand through it, "you know how ready I was to give up," his voice cracks, "How much I didn't care if I lived or died. I have issues and we both know that, we both know I need help with issues that are none of my fault. You showed me that and taught me that. The more I fell in love with you, the move I loved you, and the more I wanted to keep loving you and stay with you. The more I realized I did have something to live for. I had good in my life again, because of your beautiful and kind soul. I once asked you to give me something to live for. You remember that don't you, baby?" You nod, "I do now. I have us. I have our life that I want for us. I want — fuck —I want," he almost sounds angry now as he pulls slightly away but still where his face can touch yours if he turned his head just a little, "I want to live," he says through clenched teeth and tears, "I want to live. I don't want to die. And you telling me we made a little baby," he looks down at you so intensely now. There is more water pooling in his eyes, and for the first time, you notice the lack of color in his face, "oh that, knowing I made love to you and we made that baby together, just made me want to be here forever. No matter how scary it was. So when I saw that wall, I ran and I fucking ran like I never ran before. I ran for us. I lived for us, and you can be damn sure I'll be the best that I can be for both us and our kid. I'll do whatever it is that I need to do to not leave you alone in this world. I'll do whatever it is that I need to make sure our little family is happy and safe, and I will not let anything get in the way of that. Do you hear me? You are safe with me. I will protect you, I will be strong for you even when I'm not, I will love you both, and I will live my life for you both. Because I want to."
You're stunned by his beautiful speech of acceptance and love.
You nod quickly, because that's all you can do.
Your nose hits his as you lean up at a quick and awkward angle to kiss him.
The kiss is deep and harsh; raw emotions pouring into it. His lips continue to move over yours and your tongues dance deliciously. You can feel your body getting ready for more when he pulls away from you.
You're about to ask him what's wrong when you follow his gaze over your shoulder, turning your head.
Steve is standing there, looking away from the both of you, looking embarrassed and guilty.
You clearly your throat awkwardly, starting to stand on wobbly legs.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in on your privacy. I needed to speak to Bucky, I just came in and I didn't know—"
Bucky swallows hard.
"It's ok," he says. Bucky gives your hand a squeeze, "go ahead to the guys without me, I'll meet you in a bit."
You give him a short nod and you give a still blushing give Steve a small smile, walking around him and out the tent.
Once you're gone, Steve turns and gives Bucky a smile.
"She's good for you. I told her to make friends with you but I didn't expect you to fall in love," Bucky gives him a short lived smile before he pales quickly, "and a baby? Buck, that's —"
"Did she leave yet?" Bucky cuts him off quickly, tugging at his coat.
Steve stops, watching Bucky in confusion as he pulls off his coat and his protection scarf.
"What-?"
"Did she leave yet!" Bucky practically screams.
Steve quickly looks outside and then sees you're in fact gone.
"Yes, she's gone."
Bucky's brows furrow in pain and he's breathing harshly and it's then that Steve realizes Bucky had been putting up a facade in front of you to look strong. He was not okay.
This man did not look like the same man from three minutes ago.
"The guy, the ring leader, he tried to kill her. He aimed a bow at her and it had spikes and it was filled with the virus. I grabbed it before it could hurt her, but I'm right handed. I'm fucking right handed. I'm so fucking stupid. It was instinct." he's rambling at this point, "I didn't want her to know. I've been keeping it away from her as best as I can and I know it was reckless of me and with the kid, putting their lives at risk, but I had to make sure they were safe. I had to make sure they got here."
He finally has the cotton layers removed, minus his shirt, before goes for the last one.
A black scarf wrapped around his hand.
Steve's heart drops as he watched the veins in his best friend's arms, which should normally be blue and purple, turning black and the ugliest shade of green he'd ever seen.
+ + +
STORY WILL CONTINUE IN "ASHENS: SAVING OUR DESTINY"
STARTS IN NEXT PART -- >
ASHENS: SAVING OUR DESTINY
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Now we have Will, there's still Daisy who's alive and knows Bucky has her son, they don't know why Ashens' blood helps make a cure yet, and now Bucky needs help. Sure, he's got Ashen's blood, but is it that simple?
+
A/N : So I considered making a second book to continue the loose ends but I decided to do something different. This second part will be very different than the first for several reasons. Reason I decided to not make it second book on here was because it won't be as long as the first part, if we can even consider it a "part" since it will be significantly shorter. Didn't want to make you guys think the story will still take forever to finish, which isn't the case. It's coming to an end. There's just things still left to cover and tie up that would've made the first part way too long. And you know me, I don't bring characters in for no reason.
I think once you start reading it you'll also see why I decided to make it a part 2 and not just continue it as one, aside from the length factor. I think you'll enjoy it. ;) I will remove this note once first upload of part 2 is up. It will continue here. So not a new book. Hope this makes sense! I'm also working on a playlist for Part 2 if any are interested. I'll probably upload it along with the first playlist on the playlist chapter but after this part's title. Bare with me with uploads! Life is crazy right now. But I didn't forget you guys.
Much love! Limbo
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moemammon · 3 years
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Alright so my request is angsty-ish. Mc is engaged to someone else when they move for the exchange program and stays faithful during their entire stay, so maybe hcs on how the brothers react to a taken MC who (if they even try to advance) actively avoids romantic situations with them, and maybe a little bonus of them reuniting with their lover smittened.
I tried to request this before but all my asks get eaten so I just wanted to make sure it got through
"What Do You Mean You're Already Taken?!" (Feat the Demon Bros and GN!MC)
(Hell yeah angst time heheHEH >:))
Lucifer
Can you even imagine how Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, reacted when his obvious advances toward you were always awkwardly brushed off? No matter what he tried, no matter how perfectly romantic the situation, he could never coax you into accepting his affections.
And he soon found out why, when you finally admitted that you were taken by another.
He can't remember the last time he's felt pain like this. He'd finally found someone he could be... vulnerable with. Someone he could open himself up to, who wouldn't see him in a different light as a result.
But to know that no matter what, he'll never be able to have you? It's a worse punishment than he could've imagined himself. He can't do anything but accept it, and you'll soon find that his advances come to a complete vault.
He's a little colder to you, but that's only because he's trying to relearn how to feel about your presence. He asks that you give him some time alone, for a few days. He'll be busy in his office in the time being.
Mammon
God, he's crushed. Mammon... was always aiming to be your first everything. Guess someone beat him to the punch before he could do anything to stop it. It takes everything in him not to accuse you of pulling his leg.
But you can't be serious... right? You're saying that no matter what he does or how strongly he feels, he can never have you? He won't get to hold you against him? He'll never be able to kiss you? To pull you under his sheets so you can sleep your worries away? Never be able to tell you just how much he loves you, more than any material possession in this entire world...?
But... why couldn't you just choose him..?
Mammon doesn't get it. He feels like he's always getting the short end of the bargain no matter what he tries. He knew the stakes were high when he started pining for you. You're... YOU! Perfect, amazing, lovable you... who will never be his.
These days he's barely home. You guys are still 'friends', but sometimes you can't tell if he's teasing you or actually being mean. He can't even stand being around you for too long, because his damned heart starts pounding until it hurts. He'd rather gamble the nights away than to have to deal with that.
Levi
Of course you're taken... it's not like he could've expected otherwise. Someone as great as you wouldn't look good standing with a gross otaku...
Jokes aside, Levi's heart has just shattered into a million pieces. You were his one! The one he dreamed about! The one he wanted to be around, despite his crippling social anxiety!
You got him... No, you REALLY got him. He didn't have to put up any walls when he was with you. He knew you liked him for who he was, and that you weren't secretly making fun of him when he wasn't around.
And... you two actually enjoyed one another's company! You shared so many laughs, so many days together, and just when he thought he'd gathered the courage to ask you to be his, you told him that you were taken.
He'll get over it. He's used to being disappointed, after all. Just don't mind him while he spends the next two weeks holed up in his room. If you need something, do you might just writing a note and slipping it under his door? He can't bear to look at his phone, since it's full of pictures of you.
Satan
Satan didn't mean to cause an outburst like that. He never meant to scare you. But when he realized that all this time spent falling deeper, and hopelessly in love with you, was all for naught? He didn't know how to react.
So many new, strange feelings rushed into him at once, until it all exploded in a fit of rage. Was it really anger? Or was it sorrow so strong that it could've been mistaken as such? He couldn't tell, because he's never felt this way before.
His room had been completely destroyed, many precious books lost to the unstoppable force that was his angry release. And when it subsided he was left feeling empty and lost... scared, even.
Would you think differently of him now? Would he think differently of YOU now? Could this... odd, sick, twisted relationship of yours be mended..? He didn't even know if he had the strength to attempt it.
So he isolates himself from you, spending a great deal of time repairing the damage done to his room. And when that's been finished, he's reading like his life depends on it. In the world of books, he can forget about real life entirely. Is it silly for him to imagine that maybe, some day, everything will work out like in a lighthearted fairytale?
Asmo
So you have a partner? Polygamy is fine too! Or so he thought, until you emphasized that you were loyal to your one and only partner. Meaning.. Asmo wasn't invited to the party.
Now, the Avatar of Lust wasn't exactly one who knew rejection. Sure he got a few 'no's here and there, but those little flings meant nothing and had no weight on his heart.
But you? You... were everything he didn't know he needed. Asmo knew he was beautiful and alluring, but you knew there was more to him than that. And you sought to bring those parts of him out into the light! He could only dream of showing his true self to you and you alone.
Asmodeus felt so secure with you, like the mask he'd been wearing for millennia could finally come off. With you, he could just be himself, and he could never tell you just how much that really meant to him. But now his heart aches with a pain he's never felt before, and it hurts so much that he can't help but cry.
His devilgram followers have been seeing him a LOT more lately. So has all of the devildom, really. He's never home anymore, choosing to fill the void with temporary lovers instead. It isn't enough though, and it only makes the pain worse. But in the end, what more can he do? He doesn't understand what love is without you.
Beel
Beel loved you. More than he could understand. More than he could've known.
When the feeling first blossomed within him, he thought it was hunger. Instead, it was a burning desire for you and only you, twisting in his core and setting his heart on fire.
Beel didn't understand it, but he knew that when you were with him, he could breathe a little easier. He could forget about the gnawing hunter that clouded his thoughts. For once, he actually felt free of his sin.
And then, you told him about your significant ofter, and he’d never felt so hungry in his life. The pain was so strong he thought he might collapse from weakness right then and there. It hurt... he hated it...
To everyone's shock, Beel has begun losing his appetite more frequently, most often after catching a glimpse of you. That familiar pain would sprout within him again and make him grimace, and he could no longer find the desire to eat. Maybe he'd just take his meals to his room from now on..?
Belphie
Right... of course. A human like you would be partnered with a human. It was natural that you'd have relationships before your life in the devildom. Anyone would've known that. So... why the hell did it sting so much?
Belphie couldn't sleep. Every moment he closed his eyes, visions of your sweet smile, your wonderful laugh, the way your nose wrinkled when you ate something gross... all of it haunted him. He couldn't get you out of his head no matter what he tried.
And it was so much worse now that he knew you were taken. He wondered if this was a punishment for killing you, like the universe's way of judging him for his misdeeds, and the ages of hatred he held in his heart for humans. Why would fate allow him to be happily partnered to one?
Try as he might, this was one worry he couldn't sleep away. He could never get comfortable. He couldn't close his eyes without thinking about you. He didn't want this. He hated this feeling of self loathing and regret. Belphagor wanted you, more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Maybe... he could convince you to love him? Show you that his love was so, SO much more than what anyone else could offer? He’d remind you of all the times you two shared together. You're not scared, right? Good. That's the last thing he’d want, because he loves you.
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Whumper 4, caretaker 5 caretaker (doesn't know it's blood)
Is that ok?
Whumper 4: “Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?” / Caretaker 5: “Let me help you.”
Yeah, of course that's ok :) I'm guessing that the parenthesis was supposed to go before the 'caretaker' and they don't know about the blood? well, I hope that's it because that's what I wrote haha, but if it wasn't, please feel free to send me another ask <3
Also, some content warnings because this one ended up a little intense: implied noncon (didn't mean to write it like that but the vibes are there so), noncon drugging, a very creepy and intimate whumper... there's comfort at the end though!
-
Whumpee should’ve known there was something weird about Whumper. No one could smile that big and talk that kindly without wanting something in return. They just never thought it’d be this.
“Come on, now. I don’t have the whole night. What’s your choice?”
All Whumpee does is close their eyes and shake their head, too overwhelmed to force any words out of their quivering lips.
“Whumpee, it’s not a hard one,” Whumper huffs, and they can hear the annoyance in their voice but they can’t convince themself to say the words. “Do you need me to repeat it to you?”
They don’t, the sound of Whumper’s offer still echoes inside their head, loud and clear.
But Whumper takes their silence as agreement.
“Here’s your choice: you can take these pills and be the entertainment of my party tonight, or I can go snatch someone else to do it. You’ll only stay if you agree, and if you don’t, I’ll let you walk away and never see me again. It’d be a shame though, because everything is ready for you. I’ve been watching you, and oh Whumpee, you are just so… perfect. But, in case you say no, I can always go after someone else. Say… Caretaker? I’m told they are a friend of yours.”
Their heart pounds in their ears, so loud Whumpee is almost surprised Whumper can’t hear it too.
“I can go get them if you want me to. Can’t promise they’ll come out in one piece after my guests finish playing, though. Not like I can promise you. You are far too precious to be permanently damaged, you I can promise to keep somewhat safe. Caretaker on the other hand, not so much. Who knows what those troglodytes could do to them if I give them a free pass?”
Whumper’s laugh fills the basement Whumpee woke up in only minutes ago, bouncing off the walls and making Whumpee’s skin crawl. How could they trust the mysterious stranger who offered them a ride? Why hadn’t they been more careful? Now here they are, locked in a basement with someone twice their size and no hope of escape. If only they’d been more careful–
“Well?” Whumper says, drawing Whumpee’s attention back to those narrowed eyes, glinting with cruelty.
“W-what will you do to me?” Whumpee whispers through the thick layer of fear enveloping their world. “If, if I say yes… what then?”
Their smile is almost as horrid as their laughter. Whumpee shrinks against the wall, pulling their knees closer to their chest. “If you say yes my love, the pills will start working in a few minutes. I will give you a nice new outfit while the drugs do their job and then when you are barely able to walk, I’ll help you up the stairs. Everyone will be so happy to see you, Whumpee.” Their eyes burn, but no tears fall when Whumper scoots closer and touches their hair, gentle fingers brushing back sweaty locks. “And then we will have fun. You’ll barely remember it afterward, but I will remember it forever. You might be left with some sore spots but all temporary. Well, almost all temporary, won’t promise one or two marks for you to remember me later. Maybe a few scratches, some of my friends are remarkably fond of knives. But the point here is that you’ll make anything we want you to, and that’s the real fun.”
“And if I say no?”
“If you say no, I’ll go after your friend. Kidnap them, just like I did you. And when they awake, they won’t be given the choice I’m giving you since it wasn’t them I really wanted. I’ll take them upstairs, and we’ll make them hurt. Scream. Cry. Maybe I’ll record it and send it all to you so you know what fate you chose for them. Now, what's your choice, Whumpee? Tell me.”
As they speak terrible word after terrible word, Whumper’s fingers continue to play with Whumpee’s hair. Twisting and brushing and caressing. Always so soft, so awfully soft in comparison to the nightmares they spit into Whumpee’s brain.
“Let's see what's more important to you. Your dignity, or their safety?”
A tear finally escapes, only to be brushed away by Whumper’s touch.
“But don’t worry. If you make the right choice, It won’t be all pain, baby. It’ll be about those big scared eyes and that delightful little quiver on your lip. About how gorgeous you will look when you’re barely able to walk, and how you will cling when you can’t think straight. And I’ll be there the whole time. I’ll take care of you.”
Whumper is right.
In the end, it isn’t a hard choice.
Whumpee closes their eyes and nods at the same time a soft, broken “okay,” slips out of their lips. It doesn’t feel like the lock of a door they were expecting. It feels like taking a step into the void, and knowing there’ll be thorns waiting for them when they fall.
Still, it’s with Caretaker’s smile in their head that they force themself to swallow when two round pills touch their lips. They don’t open their eyes until a bottle of water is held for them to drink from. It is only when there is no more chance for them to break and plead to be let go, even if they want to, desperately, that they let their eyes flutter open.
Whumper is waiting for them with a wide smile when they do.
“Let us begin then.”
And so they do.
Whumper brushes Whumpee’s hair and gently applies makeup to their face. When they ask Whumpee to undress and give them new clothes, they don’t hesitate to obey, and only when Whumper is closing their zipper for them do they realize how faint they feel.
When they are placed in front of a mirror, Whumpee looks at the shiny clothes but forgets what they looked like as soon as they are led away. By the time the door is opened and music first hits their ears, they are leaning against Whumper to keep standing.
They try to climb the stairs. Narrowing their eyes to concentrate, they raise their foot, but the world is filled with blurred colors and too-quick movement, and the only reason they don’t fall is Whumper’s fast hands holding them up.
Whumpee is almost grateful when Whumper chuckles and whispers against their hair. “Easy there, baby. Let me help you.”
They rest their head against Whumper’s heart when they are picked up bridal style, and stay that way until the lighting changes and voices fill the air.
They are placed on the floor, and with Whumper’s help, manage to keep standing, even though the floor refuses to stand still under their feet.
And then there are hands on their hands, squeezing and hurting, and Whumpee tries, they try so hard, but instead of the firm no they want to say, only a moaned “n-hng, I, I, d-don, wha-what’s hap-happe–,” comes out.
And then the world slips away, and though their body still moves, they are barely there anymore to see it.
-
When Caretaker’s doorbell rings, they don’t hesitate to jump out of bed and run to the door. They’ve been sending Whumpee messages all night without response, and concern rings louder than sleep. Only when they open the door and see the sunrise do they realize how early it already is.
And then their gaze slides to the figure leaning against their doorframe, head bowed and shoulders slumped, and their heart misses a beat.
“Whumpee?” Caretaker calls, reaching out their hand.
But before they can touch sparkly clothes they’ve never seen their friend wearing before, Whumpee cowers away. Caretaker retreats, but their heart races even faster.
“Whumpee, what’s wrong? Where were you, did something happen?”
Whumpee looks up, and Caretaker doesn’t need an answer to know what happened. Wide pupils, half-lidded eyes, smudged makeup and parted lips tell them all they need to know.
“Oh, Whumpee.”
There are stains all over their clothes, too. Is it spilled alcohol? Is it vomit?
“Oh, Whumpee,” Caretaker sighs again, taking a slow step in their direction, feeling a sad, involuntary frown settling on their forehead. “What did you do?”
Whumpee follows their steps with their eyes but keeps still. It is only when Caretaker comes close enough for touch and extends their hand that they wince and shrink into themself again.
“Honey, I can see you’re not okay,” Caretaker says as calmly as they can. “Let me help you.”
Another step, and this time all Whumpee does is close their eyes and let out a low whimper. Caretaker sighs again as they help Whumpee wrap their arm around their shoulders and lead them inside.
Whumpee is almost a dead weight in Caretaker’s arms as they help them get into the bathroom, to seat on the toilet and lean back against the wall.
“Can you tell me what happened?” Caretaker asks, crouched down in front of Whumpee.
“I, I, I don– don’t, W-Whum-per. They, they, they did... something.”
“Who’s Whumper, love?”
But all Whumpee does is shake their head no as tears stream down their cheeks.
“Okay, you can tell me later. Can you at least tell me what did you use?”
The look Whumpee gives Caretaker is so utterly lost, that they nearly start crying as well.
“Don’t… kn-know. Pills?”
“How about a shower, and then we talk more, huh?” Caretaker tries, nodding encouragingly. Whumpee swallows, but doesn’t nod along with them. Instead, their eyes dart around the bathroom, searching for nothing.
With a reassuring squeeze on their knee, Caretaker gets into the shower and turns on the faucet. As the water warms up, they take one look at Whumpee’s slumped form and walk over to the mirror.
Clutching the cold porcelain of the sink, Caretaker looks up at their own image in the mirror – tired and disappointed, but also patient. Worried.
“You can do this,” they mouth to themself, “Whumpee needs your help.”
With one last sigh, they turn their head to Whumpee and take a step in their direction. And then a step back, when something grabs their attention at their peripheral vision.
Caretaker stares at their image in the mirror again and feels their heart stop when they see their sleeve stained red. The sleeve where their friend’s arm had just touched.
It isn't alcohol or puke on Whumpee’s clothes.
It is blood.
“Whumpee,” they call, dropping to their knees in front of them. Whumpee jumps and meets Caretaker’s stare with wide, scared eyes. “You are bleeding. Are you hurt? I need you to tell me where you are hurt, Whumpee.”
But all they do is breathe faster and faster, pure helplessness on their face.
“If you can’t tell me, I need to find the source of blood on my own. I’m taking your shirt off, okay?”
Caretaker doesn’t wait for an answer, and Whumpee doesn’t give them one.
They don’t fight Caretaker’s hands when they pull the shirt over their head, even when a pained hiss leaves their lips.
Caretaker holds their breath when they see Whumpee’s bared skin.
Bruises color their entire torso, as well as long crisscrossing welts. Their arms are covered in small, rounded marks that look dreadfully like cigarette burns. Cuts, deep and superficial litter everything, some already closed, some still weeping blood. There’s barely any smooth skin left.
“What happened to you?” Caretaker breathes, searching for answers in Whumpee’s terrified eyes. “Who did this?”
All the answer they get is a soft sob and a cold forehead hitting their shoulder as Whumpee falls forward and nuzzles into their neck.
Caretaker hugs them back, careful not to touch or press on sore skin, feeling their stomach churn when their fingers bump into more cuts along their back.
“I’m here now,” Caretaker whispers against their hair, tears of their own rolling down their cheeks, “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again, Whumpee. You are safe. You are safe.”
They stay like that until the bathroom is foggy from the warm water falling from the shower and Whumpee’s shoulders stop shaking, but when Caretaker helps them undress and oh-so-carefully cleans the wounds, there’s only drowsiness and chemicals behind the fear in their eyes.
They have no idea what they'll do once Whumpee comes to. Or what they'll do to whoever Whumper is if they get the chance.
-
Prompts from this list. Still taking them but I can't promise how fast I'll write it haha
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ptergwen · 3 years
Note
Peter Parker x Avenger Reader/ the reader gets stabbed on a mission and hides it from everyone. But Peter is suspicious and try’s to check. Can it end with angst please?/ if you don’t feel like it then never mind, don’t worry!!! ❤️❤️❤️
you want it to END with angst? well shit this one is gonna hurt.. literally
warnings: mentions of blood and death
“nice job, gang,” tony announces after you all pile on to the jet. “no one’s injured, no one’s dying. most importantly, i have no paperwork to sign.” he pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead. he’s sitting next to steve, who’s in the pilot’s seat. you tense up in your own. “what did i say about teamwork?” steve flashes tony one of his oh so charming smiles. “it’s all we’ve got,” sam answers, biting back a smirk.
“i don’t know about the no injuries thing, mr. stark,” peter murmurs, making your heart beat faster than it already was. has he figured it out already? “what’s that, kid?” tony wonders. he looks at him over his shoulder. “think i got a few cuts back there,” peter replies with a sheepish smile. natasha lets out a sigh. “you’re so brave.” “thanks for sharing your story,” sam adds on.
forcing out a laugh, you scoot the tiniest bit away from peter. he’s still joking around with the team. you’re trying to get out of his embrace, which is a first. his arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulders. too tightly because he’s pressing into your stab wound. it is keeping you from bleeding out, though.
you were the only one to actually get injured during the mission, but you didn’t say anything. you’d be ruining the otherwise successful night, which the team doesn’t get many of. the last person you want to find out is peter. it’s a hard secret not to share when your blood is literally on his hands.
“y/n, you’ve been awfully quiet. cat got your tongue?” tony observes with an eyebrow quirked. “thank god. let it stay that way.” bucky shoots you a wink. sam elbows his side. now that peter thinks about it, you haven’t said a word since the jet took off. “yeah, that’s a little... odd. you okay, baby?” he quietly asks, pulling you back into his side. “i... i’m just...” you wince when he squeezes you.
“i don’t have anything to say, i guess.” you’re giving peter a pained smile. “what’d i say about excuses?” steve chimes in, a knowing tone to his voice. “don’t make them,” natasha finishes for him. “what’s really bothering you, y/n?” “we’re here to listen, whatever it is.” steve glances over at you before putting his eyes back on the sky. “no, really! it’s nothing,” you insist, peter rubbing up and down your arm.
you can feel the blood starting to soak through your suit. he’ll be feeling it any second, too.
“i’m gonna go to the bathroom. tell me what i miss,” you say to everyone. you’re quick getting to your feet. “i’ll go with you,” peter instantly decides. “you can’t!” you put a hand on his chest, effectively holding him back. “it’s... period stuff. that’s what’s bothering me, guys.” “there it is,” sam chuckles. “i can see that,” bucky agrees. natasha rolls her eyes at both of them.
“you know i don’t care about any of that,” peter scoffs and laces your fingers together. “can’t scare me off so easy.” if you weren’t lying and bleeding in other places, that would have been sweet. “it’s fine, pete. just stay here, okay?” you bite your lip as a wave of pain shoots through you. tony takes note of that. “ok. call me if you need anything?” peter raises both eyebrows for emphasis. “i will. alright, um... bye.”
with that, you scurry off to the bathroom. you stumble on the way there and grab on to your shoulder. that doesn’t go unnoticed by the team.
“i don’t think she’s fine,” bucky concludes after a minute. natasha laughs in disbelief. “of course she’s not! her uterus is-“ “not that!” he squeezes his eyes shut at the image she almost painted. “he’s right, kid was acting pretty weird. weirder than usual.” sam shares a look with tony. “go check on her, parker,” tony gently requests, steve frowning. peter exhales a breath he’s been holding. “yeah, i’m on it.”
you free your right arm from your suit as soon as you get to the bathroom. it’s where the wound is, and it’s really bad. blood is dripping down from your shoulder to your arm, sticking to the rest of the suit. it gets in fly away pieces of hair when you look for the source. your eyes flood with tears, lip once again between your teeth. your heart is beating so fast that if you don’t die from this, it’ll be from cardiac arrest.
you’re attempting to clean up your wound with water and toilet paper, muffled whimpers escaping you. you have no idea what you’re supposed to do, but it’s definitely not this. it stings so bad every time you touch it. silent tears fall down your face while you continue taking care of yourself the best you can.
a sudden knock at the door makes you jump. “y/n?” peter speaks sternly, like he knows what’s going on in there. he doesn’t. he’s just worried about you. “y/n, it’s me. can i come in?” “what? no!” you yell, still holding the crumbling toilet paper to your wound. “i need... i- i really need some privacy. please.” your voice becomes a sob at the end. peter only grows more concerned.
“baby, what’s wrong? it’s gotta be more than your-“ a loud thud coming from the bathroom cuts him off. “what was that?” he’s already reaching for the doorknob. “nothing. i...” you don’t even try to lie this time. you can’t. “i’m coming in.” peter warns you, throwing the door open without another protest. his whole world collapses at what he sees.
curled up in a ball on the floor is you, with your suit half off and blood everywhere. you’re shivering, crying, desperately clutching at your shoulder. you were just sitting right next to him, in his arms. how could he not have realized?
“oh my god,” peter breathes, getting on to his knees in front of you. “when- when did you... what happened? how long have you been-“ he can barely form one sentence. he’s in so much shock, and so fucking scared. “during the mission,” you respond in a sniffle. “someone had a- a knife or something. they stabbed me.”
peter presses both his hands to your open wound, frantically searching for your eyes. “fuck...” his voice cracks. “why didn’t you tell me, y/n?” he’s whispering, moving closer to you, face inches from yours. “because you...” before you can finish, your eyes start rolling back. “no, no, no!” peter takes one hand off your shoulder and brings it to your chin.
“stay with me, y/n. you can’t... you can’t go yet. don’t do this,” he cries out, his own face now coated in tears. his fingers grabbing at your chin force you to look at him. “it hurts so bad, peter,” you whimper. your eyes are void of color when they finally meet his. “i know, baby. i know.” peter blinks hard, his hand moving to cup your cheek.
“i didn’t want you to worry,” you start, peter caressing your skin softly. he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. “or add to the list of people you lost. seems like i’m doing it right now, though.” a sad smile crosses your features. “no... don’t say that.” he furiously shakes his head, thumb smoothing over your cheek.
“you’re gonna be fine, y/n. i’ll get mr. stark, and- and he’ll know what to do,” peter tries to convince you both. you’re not buying it. “what if it’s too late?” you croak. “it’s not. we’re gonna be okay, okay?” he leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds. “i’ll get him now. be right back, y/n/n.”
peter’s hands leave you slowly. he replaces his one on your shoulder with your own. “you’re not going anywhere,” he assures you once more, you giving him a stiff nod. he’s rushing back to inform the team of your condition just like that. your eyes fight to stay open again. you let them close, the pain too much to handle.
“i’ll always be with you.”
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