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mayajadewrites · 4 months

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Levi Ackerman x Reader: Moth to a Flame

synopsis: Levi Ackerman - Captain of the Scout Regiment. He's broody, quiet, and clean. You're a scout, skilled in combat and has killed numerous titans. You dated Captain Levi briefly, in secret, in a whirlwind romance. Late nights and secrets are what kept your "relationship" afloat. Due to Levi's ideals, he decided to end things with you, but now you're moved on. But Levi hasn't.

authors note: this takes place in the AOT universe, and it will reference SOME of the events from the anime, so be aware if you're not caught up. i won't be following the timeline of the manga/anime.

characters: levi ackerman, erwin smith, erin jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlot, jean kirstein, sasha braus, connie springer, hange zoe, + more.

content warnings: some chapters will be nsfw. i will put a warning before each chapter if it contains 18+ content.

ao3

C H A P T E R O N E – A U T U M N

The air was cold and crisp as it flowed through your window to the room you shared with Mikasa and Sasha. Summer is over and autumn has kissed the leafs on the trees.

Your body twitched as the air touched your skin. You made a mental note to start sleeping with a sweatshirt on. Sasha's snores filled the room while Mikasa slept silently.

You grab your watch from your nightstand and look at the time. 5:45 AM. You like to go on runs before breakfast to get your heart rate up and get some vitamin D before you had to attend training for your next mission.

After putting a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, you're out the door. The girls won't be up for another hour, so you didn't want to disturb them.

As you walk down the hallway, you put your hair in a ponytail, looking at your feet as you walk.

Then your body collided with another.

"Sorry." You say before you even look up at who's in front of you.

Captain Levi Ackerman.

"Sorry, Captain." You correct yourself, standing up straight.

"Where are you off to?" Levi brushed off his shirt, freshly pressed of course.

"I'm going on a run before breakfast."

Levi nodded in response, pushing past you towards Erwin's office. You sighed when you felt it was safe to, ignoring the pending thoughts in your head.

Levi Ackerman broke your heart, and you just super-glued the pieces back together.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Breakfast was usually the same in the scouts. Eggs, bread, and sometimes bacon. Everyone sits in what we call the "mess hall" and eats breakfast together before we put our bodies through the ultimate torture which is training to fight titans.

You find your usual table – Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Jean, Sasha, and Connie.

"Good morning!" Sasha said as she stuffed her face with eggs. "I heard you leave this morning, how was your run?"

"I'm surprised you could hear me over your snoring." You chuckle, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "It was good. The sun felt good this morning, I'm so glad its finally autumn."

"You go on runs every morning?" Jean asked, patting his mouth with his napkin.

"Yeah, I like to prepare myself for training for the day."

You didn't want to say that Levi gave you the idea to go on runs every morning. He goes on runs earlier than you, thank God, because you'd rather not have to see him more than you already do.

"I might have to start doing that. I feel like I run really slow." Eren nodded to himself. I knew Mikasa was now going to also be going on runs in the morning with Eren. They are inseparable.

"That's awesome." Jean smiled as he said your name. He's always been sweet and funny, especially with Connie. They make you laugh every day, even on your worst days.

You feel the hair on the back of your neck stick up, a wave of goosebumps to follow. Your ears honed in on the sound of his boots against the floor.

You hated that Levi had this affect on you.

He was talking to Hange about her latest Titan experiment, which he sounded less than thrilled about. You made a conscious effort not to look at him.

"Morning Captain!" Armin said with a smile. He's always so joyful in the morning, which is something you envy.

"Good morning brats." Levi nodded in approval, his eyes glazing over yours for a split second.

A memory of you waking up next to him flashed in your mind, a time when you accidentally fell asleep after spending the night talking, kissing, and obviously... other activities.

"You good?" Jean's voice was like a pin to your thoughts, popping them instantly. "You looked like you're spacing out."

"Yeah, I was just thinking about how good a cup off coffee would be right now. I'm gonna go get some." You get up from your seat, shaking off the feeling of your memory.

"I've never felt like this." Levi kissed your ear, his voice low in your ear. His hand snaked up your body to your face, taking your chin roughly in his hands and pulling it towards his face. "You're one of a kind."

Life without Levi has been tough, but you have gotten over the gash of heartbreak he left. Seeing him every day for training and missions has gotten easier, and thankfully he doesn't want to see you any more than you do him.

Or so you think.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

let me know what you guys think so far!

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thedwarventradesman · 20 days

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Hollow — Tech x GN!Reader Batcher

Description: Tech x GN!Reader Batcher, established relationship; POV is 1st person so there's no use of gendered pronouns (: Warnings: Angst, major character death, grief, very vague allusion to suicidal thoughts and self-destructive tendencies Word Count: 916

A/N: This is the first time I've really written any fandom content since high school. Or at least, with the intention of letting others read it. Tried to balance the mix of recounting the past while also shifting to how reader/oc is in the present which can be tricky so I hope it reads well.

Image Credit: @ilcuoreardendo-fic

Everything happened so fast.

It was like any other mission gone bad — shots from grounded enemies, shots from the sky, and having to problem-solve on the fly amidst the chaos. Then… it was very different.

There was a violent shake as the rail cars were hit and then I was looking down at my husband hanging far below the car. Momentarily, all sound became an indistinguishable noise, garbled voices of distress mixed with ringing and roaring in my ears, as you struggled to climb up to the car.

As I moved to help you, the car creaked and, snapping back to reality, I heard you shout up, “Whoa! Don't! Any shift in weight could send both of these cars over. You must sever the connection hinge. Now!” Wrecker and I immediately exclaimed our rejection of that idea. I could feel my panic rising, my desperation increasing. There must be something. There HAS to be something. Anything to fix this mess and save you.

Your next words, spoken so calmly and matter-of-fact, slammed into me. “There is no time, cyare. Plan 99.” “Don’t. You. Dare, Tech.” My voice cracked on your name. Gently, desperately, I repeated my words, punctuating them with “please”. Your eyes locked with mine — soft, sad, and full of love. “I love you, cyar’ika, but when have we ever followed orders?”

When you shot the connection and began to fall, a deafening scream ripped out of me. “NO!” My body automatically lunged for the side with my hand outstretched before Wrecker grabbed me and held me firmly. Thrashing to escape his grasp as the car began to move, I screamed, “TECH! No! No no no! Go back!”

As the car got further and further away, the shock of the situation overtook me — numb, unseeing, unmoving with that same mix of indistinguishable sounds in my ears. My body went into a survival autopilot – moving as prompted but I wasn’t there – and the team had to help drag me back to the Marauder through the attacks.

Once aboard the Marauder, standing in the middle of our quarters, my knees gave out as I crumbled. Ripping off my helmet and goggles, my agonized sobs finally broke free and echoed through the ship. So full of grief, my body shaking, I leaned forward on my hands for support, fingers digging into the metal floor. One hand reached up, taking my chained wedding ring from underneath my undershirt and I clutched it so hard a mark was left in my hand.

At some point, I had stopped crying and left my body. I didn’t even know the ship stopped. Feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder, the only acknowledgment of awareness I could give was a hoarse, emotionless mumble, “You should have let me go with him.”

From there, I don’t truly remember much of anything. There’s a blur of being dragged to my feet and out of the ship, and of having wet hair and clean clothes while AZ checked me over with no memory of cleaning up or changing. I’m ashamed to say that I don’t even truly remember Omega being taken. All I truly remember from the past month and a half is waves of soul-crushing pain surrounded by numbness as I attempted to lose myself in my work. I keep crying and feeling flashes of disbelief and anger. I’ve lost my appetite… and my desire for self-preservation. All this while moving on autopilot to complete my tasks and finish the mission. Find and save Omega. That is all that matters right now.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Echo are concerned for me, often pushing food on me and otherwise fussing. Up until now, there were eyes on me almost all the time, it felt like, and I hated it, but I understood why they hovered. Echo left a couple of weeks after the events to rejoin Rex, but I still hear him comm Hunter every so often to check in on me and find out how the search for Omega is going.

The days are often easier than the nights since I’ve taken on most of Tech’s tasks alongside my own. Hunter and Wrecker have tried to take some of them, wishing to lighten my load, but I adamantly refuse. I need them. I need the memory of helping with and hearing about them from him by doing them. They’ve let the situation be, but still intervene to make me sleep.

That’s when it gets unbearable.

The emptiness beside me screams, his scent got fainter with each passing day until it disappeared, remembering the quiet moments we shared in this space, and hearing his final words on a loop in the silence. Once the exhaustion finally takes me… I often watch Tech fall and wake with tears streaming down my face or stinging eyes and a heavy heart. Some nights, I think Hunter has been slipping me medicine in my food ‘cause those are the only nights I get any decent sleep.

Despite all this, I have, believe it or not, been getting better. Slowly, I began to reengage with the boys and be open with them. They stopped having to watch me as close or force me to take care of myself. Now, it’s reminders and intervention as necessary along with occasional check-ins when I seem particularly off one day. I’m still far from okay and I won’t ever be the same but, thanks to our brothers, I become a little less hollow each day.

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

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Hey I saw you are taking requests, so I wanted to ask how task force 141 would deal with a female or gn reader whos just a crazy psychopath, and is always covered in blood after a mission, but has a soft spot for the team. Love ur writings btw 🚬💋

Nah low key love this character, may have to use them again. I like writing dark stuff. Kept it GN but again please tell me if something needs changing. It’s short cause I had to reign myself in from turning this smutty lmao I have a problem.

Don’t fear the Reaper, a popular saying about the inevitability of death. However, you were feared amongst many. You’d been within 141 for a while now and earnt your call sign ‘Reaper’, due to your extremely violent tendencies. There was nothing you loved more than watching the life drain from a persons eyes. The warmth of their blood on your skin. In fact you revelled in it.

On base those who didn’t know you gave you a wide berth. They felt uneasy. And honestly? You loved it. You loved making people feel uneasy, on edge. You kept to yourself mostly, preferring to observe and listen to your surroundings.

In the field you were first one in, last one out. Much to your Lieutenants annoyance. ‘Gonna get yourself killed’ he’d make a point of saying. Every time. ‘Can’t kill what’s already dead Lt’ you’d reply offering a wink. He knew you were damn good at your job, a fine solider. The best he’d ever worked with. ‘That you admitting you’d miss me?’ You teased. ‘Maybe’ he said duly. Smiling, you push him playfully ‘I knew there was a heart in there. I’d miss you too.’

After one particular messy mission, which went tits up, of course, you finally managed to get back to exfil. Jumping onto the helicopter you were covered in blood, dark drips of crimson covered your face, your hair slicked back with blood. ‘Creepin Jesus Reaper. You takin baths in their blood now?’ Soap asked, you two were close, but he was low key scared of you. Though he’d never admit that. Ruffling his hair you smiled down at him ‘killin’s messy work Johnny. I ain as clean as you.’

Sitting in the helo you lit a cigarette, the orange glow of the lighter illuminated your blood stained face. ‘Giving Ghost a run for his money lookin like that’ Gaz laughed. Smiling you inhaled the cigarette, the nicotine filling your lungs. Nothing like a cigarette after a mission, well, apart from driving a knife into tender flesh that is. ‘Nothing like some friendly competition’ Ghost chuckled. ‘Nah sir, I think I’m winning this one. Sure they’re scared when they see you, but they never see me. People are more scared of what they can’t see, fear of the unknown yanno? I am the unknown.’

He rolled his eyes. ‘They got you there Lt’ Gaz snorted. You loved your team, the banter, the camaraderie, you were close knit, could answer each others questions with only a look. They were your boys.

Price was always happy when you returned ‘so, dodged death again then I see?’ It was a running joke between you all, you rarely showed emotion, often jokes you heart was colder than Ghosts. But Price cared about you and you cherished that. They had tried to rein you in the first few months you were with them, but to no avail.

It’s like something switched inside you, from a calm and reserved person, to … well, a rabid animal. You were quicker than lightening with your knives, more often than not choosing your blades over guns. Blades were more personal, you could look them in the eye as their life faded. You thrived off the power you felt from this. The first time they saw you in action they had to consciously try to remember the mission.

‘Fuckin hell, remind me never to get on your bad side’ Soap had said. You cupped his face ‘as if I could ever hurt you Johnny. My little Scottish flapjack.’ He smiled at the pet name. ‘You’re my boys, I’d do anything to protect you.’

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod mw22 #john soap mactavish #gaz garrick #captain john price #captain price #request #ghost

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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May I ask for Dr. Edward Richtofen(Primis) with prompt 4,26, and 41?

Richtofen my beloved....

My prompt list was used for this!

Surprise, surprise, I felt out of ideas so I decided to base this off my Self-Aware! Richtofen with Player! Darling where Darling left the game, but Richtofen can't accept that.

So sorry this took so long/isn't what you wanted :(

Yandere! Primis Richtofen Prompts 4, 26, 41

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Self-harm, Obsession, Reality warping, Self-Aware game character, Implied past intimacy, Mind Break on Yandere's part, Possessive behavior, Blood, Forced kissing, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

He was going insane.... He had met a being from another realm, fell in love, then lost them all in a few weeks. Richtofen had lost you, even after all you did together.

It all started with a little feeling, he knew something was there. Then you came crashing into his world. With that, you also managed to worm your way into his heart once the suspicion died down.

He was obsessive about you. He knows he has a mission to do, yet he keeps remembering how you felt. He remembers the kiss and what followed after....

Then once you found a way to leave you jumped at it. He was stunned when you gave him one last hug, one he didn't want to let go of, and started towards the opened portal. He felt... desperation.

"Take me with you!"

He remembers crying out to you.

"I can't live without you!"

You kept saying you couldn't live here with him. That you cared for him... yet had to go home. You had different realms.

His love was unnatural.

He still... felt you sometimes. Still guiding him like a guardian angel. It hurt him so much that he can't feel your warmth fully.

With the ore affecting his brain and the fact he met you, he became destructive to mostly himself.... His team had noticed blood dripping down his arm. In an attempt to heal him, they realize what he's done.

"What the HELL, Richtofen?"

On his arm, once the blood was wiped clean, was letters scratched into his skin. Letters of your name. His deity... his player.

"I don't ever want to forget them. They will be my only love. I need to see them again."

To see you again was his motivation. He already had the ability to go to other realms. Surely, with research and practice, he could see yours.

He bets your realm is beautiful. He bets it's peaceful without the undead breathing down your neck. He's just... excited to be with you again.

Richtofen was only a game character to you. A ball of code only meant to exist in a game. It turns out he may be more than that.

He felt his mind rotting while he obsessively focused on more and more research. He's told over and over to forget about it. He can't.

Not when he knows you're out there.

By this time, you had moved on from Call of Duty Black Ops 3. The fact he can't feel your presence only stresses him more. He presses on... looking for a breakthrough.

Then there's a blinding light... a portal...

And a Richtofen on his hands and knees in front of your PC/TV.

Confusion fills the air, the man looking around the room with caution. There's a familiar scream that makes him turn his head. Only to see you in the doorway, realizing the consequences of your actions.

"Beloved-"

"No...."

"You need to go back-"

"I've been trying to see you again! I managed to find you!"

The bloodied man in front of you steps closer, laughing to himself.

"Go back...? Now why would I go back?"

Your gaze flicks to his scarred arm. Your name is read on it, making your eyes widen. Richtofen smiles when he sees what you're seeing.

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

He grips your shoulders, you swore he could hear your heart beat. Any chance this could be a dream is snuffed out when he leans in to kiss your lips softly. The feeling of facial hair tickling your skin is too familiar... too real.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

Richtofen preaches, eyes fixated only on yours.

"Does this now show how we're fated? I'd travel across time and space to find you. I said I wanted to come with you... after months, I've done it."

He strokes your cheek like you're a scared animal. Richtofen then slowly guides you to the nearest seat and sits by you, not once letting you go. It's as if he's scared to lose you again.

"I'm not going anywhere now... so, dear, may you show me how your realm works?"

His question is soft, as if he's not covered in blood. As if he's not strapped with an arsenal.... As if he's not from a VIDEO GAME-

Shuttering, you manage to form a response.

"S-Shower... then we'll talk-"

The idea of him coming here was not too out of this world. You went to a video game. How could he not come to your world?

The issue was getting him back... if you could.

Until you could find that out, you needed to disguise him. Richtofen looked like he was straight out of WWII. It would look weird nowadays, obviously.

Still trying to get your bearings, you convince Richtofen to give you his sizes and give him a modern set of clothes from a store. He didn't seem to mind. It was the start of his new life with you.

One with way less danger and undead.

It felt so weird to you. Awkward, even... based on what you two did within his world. After that, he was convinced you two were soulmates bound to one another.

You'd feel his arms around you tightly. You even catch him kissing you, wishing for something similar to what you did before. Before you thought of the consequence it would have to do such a thing with a video game character....

Something so simple comes with a price.

"Look! We're bonding, just the two of us!"

Richtofen cheers to you, smiling like a child. He'd be so excited just to sit beside you or gaze at your very modern TV. It was as though he went to the future.

He did way more than just that.

Each kiss and hug felt strange. It was all very real, hell the modern clothes make him look like he's from around here. But you know his origins.

Not only that... but he's under the impression you're his and he's yours. He thinks your dating. As a result... it gets hard to explain to others.

He's from a fictional universe yet somehow in yours.

Your shock had ended after you were thrown into his.

He's possessive, glaring at anyone else around you. You hear him mumble he hates the attention you're getting. His new ideal life is to be alone, with you, in your home. A house spouse, if you will.

If anyone comments on your "boyfriend's" similarities to Richtofen from COD, you are quick to try and excuse it.

It's just a funny coincidence! You harshly nudge Richtofen when he tries to say he is who they think he is. Then you're dragging him off, saying you'll talk to them later!

Your situation becomes increasingly hard to manage. Far as you know, you're the only one who has this problem. The fact he's obsessive, trailing the name on his arm affectionately, scares you more.

How do you solve this?

In response to your distant mind, he tries to soothe you. You need to stop worrying. He just wishes to adore you like he did before.

You used to think the company is okay. Yet fear sinks back in rather quickly. You know you have to fix this.

You just have no idea where to start...

Or if you even can.

"Dear... you still love me like you used to, right?"

#yandere call of duty zombies #yandere cod zombies #yandere self aware au #yandere primis richtofen

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ishouldbedoinghw · 3 months

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You Can't Erase Me

One Piece Fanfic, Part 5

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: discussion of trauma, general angst, Shanks,

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My world stayed confined to that room at first, Hongo bringing me food and examining me daily. The medicine he gave me kept the pain in my back down to a dull twinge, and he changed the bandage occasionally, cleaning it as he did so. He kept silent at first, then over time, as we continued our little daily ritual, he talked more and more. It was mostly complaining about Shanks or other members of the crew, or muttering about how each of the treatments he gave me worked. He seemed nervous to mention he and the crew were all pirates, but as I wasn't sure I knew what a pirate was, I couldn't find a reason to care. I enjoyed listening to him chat, and tried picturing each of the crew members when he spoke of them.

I didn't reply often, choosing instead to listen in silence. It wasn't that I wasn't curious, I simply didn't want to irritate him.

True to his word, Shanks returned to the room every now and then, mostly cracking jokes, bugging Hongo, and occasionally asking me questions. He was certainly more talkative than the grumpy doctor, and seemed to be on a personal mission to make me laugh. He hadn't managed it yet, but he never faltered with the corny jokes, often more stupid than funny.

I grew comfortable in my new routine; I'd wake up from a deep, dreamless sleep to Hongo waiting with a plate of food, ready to check me over. I'd eat my fill and listen to him "bitchin'," as Shanks called it, about whatever crew member had already irked him that morning. When it wasn't Shanks, it was Yasopp or Lucky Roux. Hongo often complained about them being too loud or too messy, but I couldn't help but wish I could hear the life he described outside the door.

The one question I'd dared to ask was in regards to my hearing, to which Hongo replied as gently as he could that he really didn't know if there was anything he could do to help.

Under his watchful eye, I slowly started moving around more, feeding myself with ease, and even walking around, though I couldn't hold myself up for long periods of time. Often, when he was gone, I would creep up to the door and strain to listen. Occasionally, I'd catch some muffled conversation or laughter, or heavy footsteps. I quickly learned how to discern Hongo's or Shanks's gaits, and would quickly retreat to bed if I heard them approach - Hongo didn't exactly like it when I roamed around without him.

What I wanted to hear the most, however, was the sea. The only clue I had that I was even on a ship was occasional rocking or the creaking of wood.

I wasn't sure how, but I knew that the sea was salty, and I could recall some feeling of wind blowing my hair and the smell of salt and fish. As I felt the short, prickly hairs on my head, I wondered if the memory was real, or some fantasy I'd made up on my own.

With each passing day, I had more and more questions about who I was, and where I really came from. There had to have been a before the cage that I just couldn't recall - but what was it?

Was my hair long once? Did I have a family? How old was I? What was my name? Why did I like sea king meat better than squid? Had I always preferred one over the other? Why had I been in that cage? When had I been put there?

The muddle of questions in my head was always confusing. It felt a bit stupid to wonder about things like my hair when I couldn't even remember how old I was, or if I had parents. I constantly stared at the wall across from my bed, trying to picture myself with parents or siblings, seeing which combination of the two made the most sense.

I had to have parents, the picture in my head always had a mom and a dad. I would've sworn up and down I had a brother, it didn't feel right to not imagine one. Sisters were the one thing I couldn't grasp at all- or maybe I was wrong about all of it, maybe I never had a family and my life had always been the cage, maybe I hadn't come from any place of love, like I pictured a real family to be. Had I ever been given a hug? Had my mother ever kissed me goodnight? Had I ever played with other children? Did I ever have friends? It made me sick to my stomach to think the only person that had ever touched me was that man- no, Hongo and Shanks touched me.

Touched me because they had to? Or did they really want to?

I groaned, leaning my head back and pinching the bridge of my nose.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

One, two, three, four.

Four, seven; seven, four.

What did these damn numbers mean? Why couldn't I get them out of my head? Were they important?

Counting to them was soothing, at the very least. The itch that they meant something wouldn't go away, but I found comfort in repeating them regardless.

The door slammed open, making me jump.

"Hey, girlie." It was Hongo, and he seemed a bit more cheerful than usual. "Ship's empty, and you reek. Since you can move around, I figured you'd like to wash up."

"I'm leaving this room? Going out the door?" I blurted before I could stop myself.

Hongo seemed to grimace a bit. "I guess I'd go stir crazy looking at the same four walls, huh? Sorry, girlie, I should've known you wouldn't like being all cooped up like this."

He seemed lost in thought as he held out his arm for me. I gripped his forearm tightly, and for a moment I was surprised to feel nothing but thick muscle under the doctor's skin. It would make sense, I reasoned, that he would be ridiculously strong - he was a pirate.

But how did I know pirates were strong?

I held my breath as he opened the door and we stepped out into the hallway. The sight was - a bit anticlimactic, but it didn't do much to quell my excitement.

The ship wasn't rocking too badly today, I noted, and the lack of a crew made me wonder if we were docked somewhere.

That's a stupid thought, where would the crew even go if we weren't docked.

I flushed in silent embarrassment. Hongo didn't notice, only looking down at me if I stumbled.

The bathroom wasn't anything extravagant, but I was giddy to see it anyway. It sported the same wooden walls of my room, with a row of showers along one side. A white tub stood alone against the opposite wall, and a row of sinks I wasn't sure I could even reach stretched directly opposite the doorway.

"I cleaned it best I could for you," Hongo said as he led me to the tub. "To be honest, I'm not sure how many of the crew members even bathe regularly, so it doesn't get too dirty anyways."

He left me leaning on the side of the tub as he strode quickly over to one of the sinks, retrieving a fluffy towel and a couple of bottles.

He looked a bit sheepish as he set everything down on the tub's rim.

"I got these for you - didn't think you'd want to use our shit."

"Thank you."

He looked a little surprised to hear me so eager, but seemed pleased nonetheless.

"Let me take your bandaging off, I can replace it when you're done."

My fingers were fidgety as I held the back of my shirt up for him, eager to get out of my grimy clothes. He worked quickly, balling up the bandaging in his fist. when he was done.

"I'll leave you to it - yell if you need anything." and he was out the door.

It seemed a little silly to be excited over something like a bath, but as I turned the knobs attached to the faucet, I found it hard to contain my excitement. As the tub filled with warm, steaming water, I shakily undressed myself, tossing the ratty shirt and shorts to the ground. For some reason, it struck me as odd to not be wearing anything underneath, but I shook the feeling away as I lowered myself oh-so-carefully into the water.

It was a tad too hot, but I groaned in pleasure at the sensation anyway. I soaked up the warmth and relaxed my limbs completely, sinking down and submerging my body in the water. I stayed like that for a while before grabbing one of the bottles Hongo had left.

Strawberry scented shampoo. For sun-damaged hair.

I let out a small giggle. I had hardly any hair, but I couldn't help but lather it over my scalp anyway, reveling in the feeling. The other bottle was also strawberry-scented, and I studied every inch of skin I could see as I scrubbed my body.

The bruising around my hips was a dull yellow-green now, and any scratches I'd gotten were barely visible. I had a dark birthmark on my right calf, and I counted seven or so dark dots over my torso and legs. My feet were calloused, and the skin around my neck felt rougher than it should be.

The thing that drew in my attention the most, however, was the odd pattern of white scars that stretched over the top of my right thigh. For some odd reason, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd seen these marks before, and as I pressed and pinched on the skin, I tried to see what shapes they seemed to make.

Over a dozen little scars, three separate groups of them. As I leaned in closely, stretching the skin to make the color clearer, I choked.

They were letters.

J. I could make out a capital J. I tried to convince myself I was seeing things and making a big deal out of nothing, but the more I looked at the little scratches, the more prominent the letter became. It had to be J.

The next little group was so obvious I could've slapped myself. E.

J. E. H? The last few scratches were messier, two vertical, parallel lines with a large, perpendicular slash through them.

What did they stand for? Were they initials? Something else?

No- H didn't seem right. I felt it in my bones that H wasn't right. I pressed my lips together, studying the marks.

My blood went cold. TT. It was TT. J E T T.

J E T T. JETT. It had to be. What was JETT? What did it mean? Was it an initial, as I'd thought before?

JETT. Jett-

I screamed. I screamed until there was no air left in my lungs, and my throat ached. I clamored out of the tub, trembling and grabbing the towel, wrapping it around myself before I crumbled to the floor.

"HONG-" I didn't even have to finish before Shanks burst through the door, chest heaving. My head went fuzzy as I met his gaze, and my eyes grew heavy. I felt forced to the floor, about to lose consciousness- and then nothing. The feeling simply left, and I struggled to push myself upward again.

"Spooky! Look at me, are you hurt? What's wrong-"

"Nothing," I rasped, struggling to form words. "Shanks, I-" I tried to swallow, but my throat seemed to stick to itself.

"Shit, I overdid it, I'm so sorry," Shanks knelt next to me, holding me upright and scanning me over.

I steadied my breathing, then gripped the arm holding me.

"I know my name," I choked out finally, "My name is Jett."

Shanks visibly relaxed, settling on the floor a bit. Not even a full minute had passed when he started laughing. Full on witch-like cackling, as if I'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

He didn't speak when he finally stopped, he just withdrew his hand from me to shrug off his coat and sling it around me. I had barely registered that he only had one arm when he pulled me toward him, crushing me into his chest.

I didn't understand why I started sobbing. I was so unbelievably happy, but I couldn't stop hot tears form pouring down my already-soaked face.

Shanks leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the top of my head, squeezing me tighter.

"Nice to meet ya, Jett."

#one piece #mihawk #red haired shanks #slow burn #straw hat pirates #mihawk x reader

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yurunivo · 2 months

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A/n: this took all my brain cells to make cus I had a concept but didn't know how to make it. (This was a wattpad request)

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⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

⋘ 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡... ⋙

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

Warnings:knife play, fingering, oc x character, fem!character, degradation, anything but sex, mafia au, ayato x oc!

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Walking through the halls of the Kamisato clan waiting for your boss to give you orders was not something that Furoko Utetsu really wanted, but it was boss's orders. Her tall, slender legs walked around the place until reaching the precised door. A small knock was given before a small, "come in" was heard. She opened the door, muttering a small excuse me before sitting down on the flooring. The tension was tight, the atmosphere claustrophobic. Her boss, Kamisato Ayato, hummed before searching a few documents and giving her a mission. She looked at the document given to her, eyes scrutinizing the piece of paper before hastily putting it into her pocket. She gave a small bow before leaving the room and the estate quickly, running along for the task.

Leaving the estate with the mission in hand, the girl called for her chauffeur, to which the vehicle came along instantly. She went inside, telling the instructions before driving to the destination. Once it was reached, the girl went out, giving her assistant a small wave before going into the building, clenching her gun in hand and a pocket knife in another

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The girl looked at the massacre she made and then at the blood in her suit and hands. She took out her phone, taking a picture of the scene before dialing a phone number

Boss

Image.Jpg.242

I've done the job

Seen at 9:42 p.m

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Wearing her mask to cover her face, she walked through an Alley way to avoid being seen. After getting to the estate using the excruciatingly long way, the girl finally reached it. Walking through the garden to the boss's room, she passed through Ayaka, to which she bowed at the younger sibling. Entering the room hastily, she looked at the man straight in the eye, pupils narrowing into slits. She took the paper out, ready to do the long paper work but she heard her boss say a phrase.

"C'mere, I won't repeat myself."

Sighing, she put the documents neatly onto the table, going to the man with a curious gaze. He pat his thigh, silently asking the girl to sit down, to which she did hesitantly. Putting her body weight down, she had a really bad feeling about this.

"Spread your legs."

Okay now she really had a bad feeling about this, so she kept her legs shut, squishing them as tightly as she could. A small 'tch' was heard before she felt a hand on her waist and then taking her pocket knife. He placed the knife between her thighs, forcing her legs apart and causing a cut on her clothes. His thumb pressed against her entrance as he lifted her chin with the knife, eyes never leaving here.

"I saw that picture you know? You've made a grave mistake, didn't even clean up the scene and not even washed your clothes. This really put our organization in danger doesn't it?" He said with mock sympathy and condensation. The girl muttered a few curses before giving a hiss of pain and pleasure. The cause of that was the knife grazing her chin and a very sensually placed finger on her clothed clit.

"So choose your punishment, you either get edged and edged again and again and not be able to cum, or I make you cum so much that the pretty head of yours can't think of anything else but my name in big letters." He hummed. Furoko didn't want any of this, but for some reason she couldn't stop giving him that hazy gaze, asking for more practically. Was she lying to herself?..

But before she could answer, it was already given by the man in front of her.

"It's the latter isn't it?" He said dully before his fingers easily ripped the mesh of fabric, giving him a peak of the girl's panties. He smirked as he rubbed a finger over her hole, before ripping the panties with his dull fingers. The tips of his fingers met her soaking cunt, teasingly hovering over it before he put them in, making Furoko gasp out in pleasure. He slowly moved them in and out, letting her get used to him and letting her slick coat his fingers. But all those sweet things never last long as he suddenly thrusted, making the girl moan. He pushed his fingers at an abnormal pace, making her feel a knot on her stomach faster than she's supposed to. He felt a warmth on his fingers as she let out a sigh of relief, before yelping as he picked up the pace again. He was going undeniably fast, a bit too much for Furoko as she clenched around his fingers again, his fingers getting wetter from her slick. He smirked at how disheveled she already looked before picking up the pace again. She told him to stop, whining when he wouldn't listen. He just kept going without a care of what she says.

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

That's how long he was going for, his skillful fingers not even getting tired.

Furoko was absolutely exhausted. Her face was ruined and debauched. And when she felt another knot in her stomach she couldn't take it anymore. Coming down from her high for the sixth time, she passed out on his shoulder. Her pocket knife falling dangerously close to her puffy clit as Ayato smirked.

"That will teach her how to behave. " he smirked to himself.

Story owned by me, no reposts nor translations allowed.

Requests are open!

#reader insert #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #genshin ayato #ayato smut #smut #genshin x oc #oc

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emerald-notes · 2 years

Text

We Are Only Seven - Chapter 3

Fandom: BTS Characters: OT7 (Devil!Namjoon, Demigod!Seokjin, Wizard!Yoongi, Angel!Hoseok, Werewolf!Taehyung, Gumiho!Jimin, Vampire!Jungkook) For a visual representation check these >>> VMinKook & NamJinSope Warning: Slight swearing, spying, mention of death, guilt, implication of battle. Word Count: 1.5k Words

Summary: In a world ruled by humans, the other worldly, non-humans are in hiding. But how long will it last this way?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 [Complete]

“Hmm…” Hoseok said thoughtfully, “So, you want me to help you bring the OHA down. Is that right?”

“Yes!” Yoongi said, wishing desperately that this angel was not as stupid and useless as it appeared to be.

“What’s in here for me?” he asked.

“Huh?” Yoongi was shocked. He had never gave it a thought that the angel might ask for a reward in return. “Well, why would you ask for anything anyway? You are literally bringing down a system that is hunting your kind and many others for 5 years.”

“Oh, I see…” Hoseok turned to Namjoon, “What do you think? Should I abandon my duty to do this guy’s job here?”

“I think, working with this guy will take you closer to your own mission.” Namjoon answered.

Yoongi interrupted, “Actually my name’s Min Yoongi. I would very much appreciate it if you call me by that name.”

“Seriously?” this time, Seokjin sounded annoyed with Yoongi, “Namjoon literally said Hoseok is here on earth for a mission and what you’re worried about is what they are calling you?”

“I accept.” Hoseok said.

“Really?” Yoongi asked hopefully, “You’re going to do this?”

“Yes!”

“Even if there’s too much danger involved?”

“Yes!” Hoseok nodded, looking quite happy for someone joining a suicide mission.

“I think,” Namjoon said, “my work here is done. Good luck to you guys, on your way to bring down the most influential and powerful organization on earth.”

“I don’t think I’m feeling very confident at his words of encouragement. Does anyone else feel like me?” Seokjin looked around.

Hoseok raised his hand while Yoongi said to Namjoon, “No, stay!”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, “excuse me?”

“Please,” Yoongi pleaded, “Trust me, I have a plan. The more we are in number, the more it is likely to succeed.”

“Yeah, Namjoon-ah.” Hoseok stood up and suddenly started to talk with an authority. “I think friends should stand together at times like this.”

“I didn’t know an angel could be a friend with the devil.” Seokjin mocked.

“Well, it can happen, you see.” Hoseok replied, “Don’t you know, having mutual enemies make people friends? So, we’re all basically friends here.”

“We are?” Seokjin asked in a rather surprised tone.

Hoseok reassured, “We are!”

Jimin and Taehyung took Jungkook to the little hut they called their home. It was out of town, in the middle of the woods. Jungkook noticed that though the hut was not very big, it was very neat and clean, looking like a pleasant place for a family. He remembered how messy his mansion got after all of his servants were being caught by the OHA.

“So, this is a little home I had built for myself.” Jimin announced, looking very proud about it, “I’ve been living here all alone until Taehyung joined me.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung said, a smile never leaving his face, “There’s only two beds. The two of you can take one each. I am happy to squeeze in with any one of you.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook said, “But I don’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Taehyung was taken aback, “I almost forgot that you’re a vampire. Don’t be offended, little friend. I sometimes forget that I’m a werewolf too.”

“Don’t go around calling him ‘little’, Tae.” Jimin said, “He’s been alive for over a century, I believe.”

“Really?” Taehyung asked, “How old are you exactly?”

“Umm…” Jungkook thought for a while, “I don’t know for sure. I can remember being living, umm… being an undead since the 17th century.”

“Don’t you remember your life as a human?” Jimin asked.

Jungkook shook his head. He didn’t remember what his true identity was, who his parents were, how he was as a boy. He didn’t remember what it felt like to be a human with hunger and fatigue. All he remembered was his everlasting thirst for blood.

Jimin kept silent. He felt sorry for Jungkook, who didn’t have any friends or family and who had been surviving all alone for a long time. Jimin knew the feeling of loneliness all too well. That’s why, he had made a promise to himself to keep Taehyung safe. Now, he felt the same responsibility towards Jungkook as well.

“Whatever, it is.” Taehyung broke the silence, “Since, you’re the last one to join the pack, you’re our little one from now on.”

Jungkook tilted his head in affirmation. He didn’t mind being taken care of as a little one.

“Aww…” Taehyung pouted, “Isn’t he so cute?” which made Jimin laugh.

OHA had been keeping a watch at the hut of the new formed trio. It wouldn’t be very clever to attack them right away. The guards and the wizards were waiting for the right time.

Catching a nine tailed fox was not too easy. Because they were swift in their movements and can keep up with a long fight. They can manipulate the weather to go against their enemies. The only thing worse than fighting a Gumiho was fighting a Gumiho along with a vampire and a werewolf.

It was an order from Kim Joon-Hwi, himself. There was no option of losing the Gumiho. It had to be caught. Even if it caused them the lives of the other two species. Because, the Gumiho was the real target.

So, the enemies were patient. They were waiting…

Yoongi had bought all of them to his place to stay. He needed time to explain his plan. But that was not the real reason for this invitation. Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to trust them just yet. They had agreed to join him on a suicide mission so easily, which made Yoongi suspicious. But he didn’t know that each of them had a good reason to have done it.

“Your place is a so small,” Seokjin commented, “that it’s making me claustrophobic.”

“As if you’ve gotten a better place.” Yoongi muttered. It wasn’t easy for beings like them to stay at a nice place among nice people without being noticed. In fact, it was more dangerous than staying out in the street. Because nobody really cared about homeless people.

“You’re right!” Seokjin said, hearing his remark, “Earth has some really shitty places. I miss home.”

“Where is it?” Hoseok asked enthusiastically.

“At the mount Olympus, of course.” He said with pride, “Mother would keep me at the best place possible. After all, I’m her only child.”

“How are you so sure about that?” Yoongi muttered under his breath again.

“What was that?” Seokjin asked, with a frown clearly visible on his forehead.

“I asked, what are you doing here on earth then? Especially at this time?” Yoongi asked, “Doesn’t Aphrodite know how dangerous the earth was for her only son?”

“That’s none of your business.” Seokjin went straight to the only bedroom available. But Yoongi didn’t complain. He was really satisfied to have pissed Seokjin off.

Namjoon looked around the whole apartment, if it could be called one, to make sure there weren’t anyone spying them from outside a window or something. He also looked around at stuffs Yoongi used to practice wizardry. Judging by those and all the old books lying around, Namjoon believed Yoongi had been practicing them since he was very young.

“Don’t worry about me.” Hoseok said to Yoongi, “I’m used to sleeping on the floor since I came to the earth. At least, I’m glad I don’t have to hide my wings here. So that I can be curled up inside them while I sleep.”

Hoseok was smiling. Yoongi’s heart suddenly felt heavy. He thought how innocent the angel was that he could stay positive even at times like this. Hoseok reminded him of someone he used to know. Someone who had called him his friend. Someone who was now dead and for this, Yoongi was to blame.

Taehyung woke up from a sudden loud noise, “Jiminie!” he called out loud.

“It’s okay!” Jimin confirmed, “It’s just a plate.”

Jungkook immediately started to apologize, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

Jimin cut him out, “You need to stop apologizing for every minor inconvenience.”

Taehyung stood up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.” Jimin said, “We’re out of meat. We need to go to the supermarket.”

“Maybe the woods would be better.” Taehyung suggested, “We need to find something for Jungkook as well.”

“It’s alright!” Jungkook assured them, “I can go without blood for a week without any hassle.”

All of a sudden, there was a gunshot nearby. This time, they were all alert at once. “Did you hear that?” Taehyung asked.

“Boys,” Jimin commanded, “stay inside. I’ll go check.” Another gunshot.

“I’m coming with you.” Taehyung said while Jungkook nodded.

Before Jimin could say anything, the noises started to grow as if there was a battle going on outside. The trio waited inside, trying to figure out just what was going on.

“I can smell Humans.” Jungkook sat down on a chair, his voice shaking, “They had followed me here. They are going to take me away.”

Jimin went to stand beside him, carefully caressing his head, “Don’t worry, dear. They can’t harm you. Not on my watch!”

Eventually everything was quiet again. Still they didn’t dare to move just then. After what seemed like hours of waiting in fear of something might going wrong, their front door sprang open, causing them to jump in fright. The four strangers stood outside.

“So tell me,” The one wearing a cloak with a hood on stepped inside, “which one of you is the Gumiho?”

My Masterlist

Tag List: @bts-ruu,

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asavt · 3 years

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hhhhh

#asa says #went down the cheese thief tag and I remembered why I started to draw them again #I have the feeling some of the people I know might still remember that person when looking at the character #and...it's not a nice feeling I had it for a little while after it happened too #so... I gave myself the mission to clean the character's name #or something like that #like... they were one of my faves and tbh? I had never felt so bad over somethig like this before #never felt the need to do something over fictional characters #my father would laught at me for sure #but #that character helped me find out stuff about myself #let's put as an ''they stole my heart I stole their gender''#so #yeah #I'm happy to know there's people outthere who like the art I make #and the way I draw them #it makes me happy #thank you all #dearly #went down the tag in my blog**

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sixeyesgojo · 3 years

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I’ll Be Your Enemy

Summary: Gojo Satoru is willing to do anything for you. As long as it helps you heal from what haunted your night.

Pairing: Gojo x Reader

Word count: 2,019

Content warning: implied but unspecified mental illness, mentions of self-harm (scratching), mentions of character death

A/N: Kind of stumbled upon this masterpiece of a song and I thought it would be ideal for some Gojo HURT. This entire thing takes place after the Cursed Womb Arc, so to say: after Yuji dies.

Song: Be Your Enemy by Taemin ft. Wendy

PREQUEL HERE: Pictures of You

Quickly, quickly. The key was inserted into the keyhole and turned. The door lock clicked faintly, signaling that the door has been unlocked. Satoru made sure to open and close the door softly as he entered the familiar apartment. Putting the spare key into his pocket, he slid out of his shoes. Usually he would have made some big noise to ‘announce his arrival’ but not this time. He left his shoes neatly at the genkan of the residence and slipped into the white slippers that always stood by the wooden door, an extra pair just for him.

23 minutes ago. “Hello?” Satoru had picked up the phone. “Gojo-san! Finally the call went through. I’m glad I am able to reach you now,” the voice on the other end said. “Yo, Ijichi, what’s up?” Satoru greeted. He had been sent to a pretty rural area of Japan to get rid of some pesky curses and the cell phone reception was poor in that place, so it wasn’t surprising that calls didn’t go through at times. In addition to that, some curses that manifested had an electrical ability, which impaired the cell towers at place even more. Almost as if planned. “Gojo-san, I think you need to come back as fast as you can,” the man with glasses on the other end of the line stated calmly. “Why?” was the only thing the white-haired sorcerer said in response. Somehow, he had a strange feeling in his gut. The tone in Ijichi’s voice didn’t do anything to calm this odd feeling either.

“It’s L/N-san. Something horrible happened and I don’t think she is taking it well. I did my best to calm her but I’m at wits’ end too…” Ichiji explained vaguely. Satoru was experiencing a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time - his stomach churned, it felt like his guts were wrenching inside him - at the mention of your name. “Ijichi,” he said in a relatively calm voice. He was lucky his voice wasn’t betraying him by showing what he truly felt in that moment. Satoru’s feet were set in rapid motion. “Stay calm. I need you to explain to me what exactly happened.”

Gojo Satoru might be many things. A tease, a teacher (supposedly), a cruel man, a strong sorcerer, a crazy coach, a walking menace to some, protective, an inspiration to a handful, a venti-sized manchild, idiotic, a sweets maniac, a lifelong student to Yaga, playful, a pillar of the Jujutsu world… but most importantly, he was a caring person. This goes without saying for his students and especially his loved ones. What Ijichi just said on the phone had left his heart stinging in his chest. He was in the kitchen, leaving the bag he brought with him on the table.

“Alright. I will tell you what happened, Gojo-san.” “I am listening.” “I am not sure if you are aware that this happened,” the suit-clad man began, “but one of the missions that was originally assigned to you - a case of utmost priority of a cursed womb - was suddenly taken off of your pile and reassigned…” Satoru’s eyes narrowed underneath the black fabric. The beginning already left a bad taste in his mouth; missions assigned to him were usually first grade or even special grade and he knew all too well that there were nowhere enough first grade, let alone special grade, sorcerers around. So who had it been assigned to? “...to your three first-year students,” Ijichi finished with a sigh. The sickening hotness of rage filled Satoru’s whole body. Already having realized the scenario that must have taken place, he still asked for confirmation, “What grade?” “...Special grade. One casualty.” The picture that you had taken of him, his first years and yourself (so carefully hung up on your wall at home) flashed in front of his inner eye. He clenched his teeth so hard as he wordlessly hung up; it hurt. It hurt so badly.

Such an atrocious inhumane act coated in malice. He was going to kill these dirty-playing bastards. However, that would have to wait until later. Much later. Satoru couldn’t leave you to your own devices, not in this state. The scenario he concluded for himself earlier replayed in his mind several times as he made his way through your completely dark apartment. His heart stung with each beat. It was almost as if someone drove a blade through his chest repeatedly.

When he stood in front of the closed door of your bedroom, he heard soft sobs coming from inside. Should he knock to let you know someone came? He wasn’t sure what to do. He gave the door two soft knocks and entered the room. It was your hunched form on the bed, no doubt. Satoru could not see your face with the way your back was facing him. Slowly he made his way to your bed and crouched down to face you. Your face was swollen and tear-stained, a sight he didn’t see often. His large hand rested on your shoulder and gently rubbed it, a silent question hung in the air.

Finally, you looked at him with your swollen eyes. Almost instantly, your sobs got louder and you reached out for the tall sorcerer. “S-Satoru…” you hiccuped in-between sobs. “Yeah. I’m here, I’m here,” he reassured you and stroked the wet hair out of your puffy face as you threw yourself around him, relentlessly crying into his broad shoulders. The white-haired man enclosed his arms around you but it wasn’t to hug you for comfort.

He scooped your delicate frame up and wrapped a warm blanket around you before leaning your body against the headboard of the bed. He sat next to you on the bed and guided your head onto his shoulders. Your violent sobbing stopped but tears were still flowing freely.

If there was someone who understood the agony, bitterness and distress someone in this line of work had to face, it was Gojo Satoru. The path of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was painted black and red by trials and tribulations. This was why Satoru was so hell-bent on resetting the world he called his obligation. “If you feel exhausted, just lean on me for a second,” his calm voice sounded through the room. There was no answer from you. Even if there was silence, your feelings reached his heart and he spoke again. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently. Let it go with me. It’ll be easier to shake this burden off and share it, he thought. Of course, he would never dare force you. You nuzzled into his shoulder, as if to get even closer physically.

Ultimately, the woman sucked in a breath and with a shaky voice and recounted everything in her point of view. “I-I.. was on a mission when I… got a call from Ijichi. ‘Something wasn’t right’, he said and… t-told me about the cursed womb. As soon as I heard… that they sent y-your students there, I rushed to the location but…”, you hiccuped, “...I was too late… Y-Yuji, he-” You sobbed hysterically into his shoulder. Satoru turned to you to wipe away the tears and snot with a tissue. “Shhh, I’m here, I’m here”, he reassured once again, “I’ll fix it somehow.” It was just as he thought: those damned higher ups.

“H-How? This is not… something… you can f-fix, Satoru… not even you,” you continued bawling into his shoulders. I’ll kill all the higher ups, he thought to himself. “I don’t know but I’ll be damned if I can’t do something to change this detestable, loathsome and bloody world we live in,” his voice seethed with anger but it quickly died down as he re-focused on the main topic at hand, “there has to be something I can do, I’ll even drag out Sukuna myself if I have to.” “Please, Satoru…” Your whisper was faint and weak, “I… saw Yuji’s corpse... on the ground... I just want to see him one last time…”

Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer undoubtedly put a heavy strain on your mental wellbeing; nobody was spared from it, not even the great Gojo Satoru. Unfortunately, you were one of the people who were much more affected by incidents like these. He realized how badly it hurt your heart, he knew how much all the students meant to you and he knew just how much more fragile you were than you let on in front of other people. Where there is light, there must be shadow. It wasn’t like he was left unscathed by it either but right now, his utmost priority was you.

“Right,” the male sorcerer murmured more to himself. He still had to check something. “I want you to show me your arms, please.” If this had been a command, it had to be the gentlest one you had ever heard. Maybe it was the fact that there was a hint of pain infused in the way he spoke to you just now that made you show your arms so willingly, or maybe it was the fact that he always sounded so earnest when he took care of you like this. He genuinely cared; it was something you shouldn’t be surprised about, considering how long the two of you have known and cared for each other, but it never ceased to leave you in awe. You held out your arms for him to see.

As carefully as possible, the man examined your arms, his touch ghosting over your skin. It was a good thing he came prepared. The angry red lines, dry blood and broken skin on both of your forearms seemed to scream at him: you hurt yourself again. Without a doubt, he felt guilty. “I’ll be right back,” he announced as he slipped away from the bed after fixing your position and stroking your hair tenderly. A few moments later, your tall friend was back with a few medical supplies. Sitting back on the bed, he started to clean and treat your injuries. Besides a few hiccups and whimpers from your side, silence befell the room.

“Don’t you want to curse and insult me?” His eyes were still fixed on bandaging your arms. “No,” was all you said in response, fearing that your voice would give in. “You should though. After all, it was technically my fault...” Even though you were hurting, you knew Satoru was hurting all the same deep down in his heart, seeing that his precious students were the victims in this case. Satoru really treasured disciples. You took a few deep breaths before you replied, “Please don’t ever blame yourself for this… I know you wouldn’t have… let this shit happen. I know how much you adore them.”

“If it makes you feel better... if it can help you heal, I’ll take it. Any words are fine. I can deal with all the painful words…” Strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you to his chest. It was rare but his voice… unmistakably cracked for a second. A shaky chuckle left your lungs, “Please Satoru,” you wrapped your arms around him as well and nuzzled into his shirt again, “I could never treat you like that. You are everything to me but an enemy. Have always been.”

“I’ll be anything you need. I’ll even be your enemy if you ask me to… so please tell me, so that it doesn’t hurt you anymore…” he said shakily. The blindfolded man had masked his pain up until now, for your sake. It was your time to comfort him. Giving him shelter, like he had done for you. He had already experienced far too much hurt.

“Satoru, all I’ll ever need you to be in my life… is the important and comforting presence you have always been. Don’t change. If things are too much, too overwhelming and you become tired, you can lean on me too. I will never leave you.”

There was nothing left to say, no need. It was enough for both of you to be in each other’s comforting presence.

Taglist: @gojos-mochi @megumifushi @bleueluna

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #angst #gojo satoru angst #song fic #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #tw: death #tw: mentions of death #tw: mental illness #tw: self harm #taemin #inspired by taemin #shinee #ibye series

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chazukekani · 3 years

Text

SPOILER ALERT

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today.

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

The story continues on 27th Feb

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya

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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

Mistakes

Word Count: 1,713

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Reader, OC Characters

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, Derek being an asshole, TW: drugs, overdose, death

A/N: this will have mulitple parts, either 2 or 3, so nothing too long lol

Masterlist

“I don’t care! Keep looking!” Derek paced around the loft, while Stiles and Scott sat on the couch, bounding their legs nervously. Allison, Lydia, and Isaac were out with Argent, all looking for you.

“People don’t just disappear,” Stiles shook his head.

“Yeah, no shit,” Derek replied.

“Okay, just think. What did she do all day? Did she go anywhere o-or something? Has anyone seen her all day?” Scott asked.

“She was with you guys last. Her phone’s right here,” Derek held up your phone, before exhaling harshly.

“Maybe it’s time to tell your dad, Stiles. He can help us,” Scott suggested.

“Maybe I should, yeah,” Stiles got out his phone, before hearing the loft doors open.

The three of them froze, looking at the door cautiously as you stood in front of them.

“What’s going on?” you frowned slightly.

“What’s going… What’s going on!?! Everyone has been looking for you for the whole day! Where the hell were you?” Derek yelled at you.

“I was on a hunt, I-I forgot my phone, I meant to text you-” you started.

“Stiles, Scott, get out. Now,” Derek clenched his jaw as he kept his glare on you.

The two boys nervously stumbled out of the loft, not wanting to leave you alone with Derek.

“Did you not think it was important to let someone know where you were?’ his voice was calm, but the anger was still evident in his face.

You hated when he would act like this. Ignore you for 40 percent of the time, yell at you for 60. You had grown tired of it.

“I forgot,” your voice was low.

“We wasted the entire day looking for you,” he crossed his arms.

“And I never told you to look for me. If you’re just gonna get mad at me, then I’d like to go now,” you replied.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that? If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be in the pack. You’re less important than Stiles,” you always felt hurt by his words, yet never showed any emotions.

“Yeah, I’m unbelievably useless, as you keep reminding me,” you sighed.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just…” you cut him off, before running your fingers through your hair.

“Why I can’t just listen? Why I can’t just stop being useless? I’m a fucking mistake and you keep reminding me every single second you get. Don’t you think I know by now? If I could change, I would. You refuse to give me the bite and so does Scott. I’d leave Beacon Hills if I could, leave instead of forcing you all to live with the burden of knowing me,” you were already exhausted from your day, and Derek pushing your buttons didn’t help one bit.

“I never said that,” he started.

“You don’t have to. I see the way you look at me, I see the way you all look at me. I have nothing more to say to you, Derek, so if you don’t mind, I’m going home,” he stayed silent while you walked out of the loft. You felt a tear fall down your face before wiping it away, heading back home.

---

“Mom, I’m home,” you placed your bags aside as you pulled off your jacket.

You walked up the stairs, kissing your younger brother’s forehead.

“How’s Mom?” you asked him.

“She said she was feeling better but I don’t believe her,” he replied.

“Thanks for being a strong kid and looking after her while I was gone,” you gave him a small smile before patting his back.

“Go eat your dinner, I’m gonna go check up on Mom,” you said, before making your way up to her room.

“Mom?” she was sitting up in her bed, holding a cigarette in her hand.

“Mom! You can’t have those!” you yanked it out of her hand, throwing it aside.

“Why not? I feel fine,” you could see dark bags under her eyes, while her skin was visibly paler than earlier that day.

“Did you take something?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” she shook her head.

“I’m talking about drugs, Mom! Did you take any drugs?!” you yelled.

“That’s none of your business,” she crossed her arms.

“Except it is. Do you not remember what happened last week?” you scoffed.

“Last week was a mistake, it’s different now,” you shook your head, remembering her near overdose.

“No, it’s not. You need to get clean, Mom. For yourself, for Sam. Are you forgetting who found your body in the bathroom?” you ran your fingers through your hair as you sighed, thinking of your brother

“Sam should have left with his father,” your mom scoffed.

You felt chills go down your spine, at the mention of your dad.

“Well, Dad’s gone, and he’s an asshole. Mom, please. I need you to start taking care of yourself. I already dropped out of college and I can barely keep us afloat,” you begged her.

“You only started college a month ago,” your mom frowned.

“Yeah, I know. But our family is more important. When we’re stable, I’ll start college again. But in order to do that, you need to promise me, no more drugs,” you said.

Your mom nodded her head before you wrapped your arms around her. You could hear her snoring within a few minutes while you chuckled softly, slowly putting her back in bed before flipping off her lights.

You frowned, feeling your neck and arm bugging you from the hunt, before you rubbed your eyes, yawning.

“(Y/N/N)... I need some help with my homework,” you heard your brother’s voice as you held in a groan.

“Sure, kiddo, Come on,” you led him to your room, before closing the door, making sure not to awake your mother.

---

“Scott, you’re joking,” you exclaimed.

“We called partners like 20 minutes ago! You weren’t here and no one picked Derek,” Scott groaned.

“Yeah, and for good reason. I don’t understand why I can’t be by myself,” you shook your head.

“Because it’s dangerous,” Scott said.

“It’s a vampire!” you exclaimed.

“Exactly!” Scott replied.

You squeezed your fists before exhaling sharply.

“Fine, where’s the douche-bag?” you sighed before Derek walked to you, rolling his eyes.

“Well, let’s go then.”

---

You rolled your eyes, visibly bored as you and Derek sat in silence. The two of you sat in the car, waiting for any suspicious activity while you watched people walk in and out of the restaurant.

You turned on the radio, before Derek pushed your hand away, turning it off. You glared at him, before taking out your phone.

“Get off your phone,” he said.

“I’m bored,” you replied.

“And we’re on a stakeout mission. Get off your phone,” he said.

You turned it off, before hearing it ring. He glared at you, while you gave him a look, checking your texts.

You felt your chest aching as unbuckled your seatbelt.

“I have to go,” you said quickly.

“What? Why? (Y/N), you can’t leave me-” he started.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” you could feel tears rushing from your eyes as you pushed out of the car before he grabbed your wrist.

You pulled away from him, running off into the night.

---

Your brother sat in a chair at the hospital, bouncing his leg nervously.

“Sam,” his head shot up as you called his name.

He ran to your arms, burying his head into your chest.

“I-It wasn’t… It wasn’t an accident this time,” he cried out.

“What happened?” you bent down to his level, putting your hands on his shoulder.

“W-We were watching… We were watching a movie, a-and then she got up, a-and… she didn't come back,” your brother stumbled with his words, holding in his cries.

“Shh, it’s okay. It's okay,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly, before shutting your eyes tightly.

She was getting better, it has been a week since your conversation with her, and she was trying so hard.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you heard the doctor as he walked towards you.

“I’m so sorry…” their words drifted off as you bit your lip, tears rushing down your face as you held onto your brother tightly, holding in your cries as you shut your eyes tightly.

She was gone. She died.

---

You held onto your brother as the two of you made your way back to your house, biting back a sob.

“H-Here… I need you to… How about you go to y-your room?” you said.

He nodded before walking upstairs. Your body began to visibly shake, while you cried, holding in your sobs so he wouldn't hear you.

You leaned against the table, breathing shakily as more and more tears escaped from your eyes.

You heard loud knocking, banging at the front door as you wiped your face, before opening it.

You were met with Derek’s angered face as he gripped your arms tightly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“No! Shut up! The vamp killed three people before I could do anything! Do you have any idea how big of a mistake you made?! Why did you leave?! What was so important that it couldn't wait till later?!” he yelled.

“I’m sorry,” you started.

“You little…What is wrong with you?!” he yelled.

You pushed him away from you, as you clenched your jaw. He only walked closer to you, before you swing your fist, punching him in the jaw, only angering him more.

His eyes glew red as he pushed you against the wall. You could see his claws coming out of his hand, digging into your arm.

“Derek…” your voice broke.

“(Y/N)?!” you heard Sam crying loudly, standing by the stairs.

Derek’s class retracted, his face softening.

“Who the hell is that?” Derek asked.

“Get the hell away from me! You want me out so bad?! You got your fucking wish! Leave!” you screamed at him.

You punched him back, kicking him out of your house before locking the door behind you.

You fell to the ground, sobs erupting from you while Sam ran to you, burying his head in your lap.

“I-It’s gonna be okay,” you cried softly, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf text #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf angst #Derek #derek hale #derek hale text #Derek Hale Angst #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale x you #derek hale x reader angst #derek hale x platonic!reader #scott mccall #scott mccall imagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

Would you be up for writing a SMUT fiction with the one & only, Marcus Moreno? Where Y/N is like 5 years younger then Marcus, but they fall in love anyway. Y/N meets his daughter and they have dinner together, but then she has a sleepover at a friends house and then Marcus and Y/N fuck? 😂 Idk, something like that.

I love Marcus so much, okay? I am weak for this man! Enjoy - this does have spice, the sweetest of spice - 18+ only!

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader; warnings: smut

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Marcus was a man of many things - conviction, steadfast in his ways, kind, selfless, funny, handsome - the list went on and on. But among the many things, he was also incredulous at the fact that someone like you could be smitten with him.

But here you were - his lover, his friend, his partner. So many brilliant things all wrapped into one. He'd been hesitant to approach you, considering himself to be too dorky, too lame, and too old. He was only a few years older, nothing much, but it had never seemed to bother you. As soon as he'd met you and felt that familiar warmth wash over him, he'd felt like an old fool.

More times than you could count had you caught him staring at you with that silly, goofy smile on his face. But he was never going to make a move, no, nope, definitely not. That would have been a sin, practically blasphemous and he would never entertain the notion and he was nervous just thinking about it and -

You had casually strolled him up after a mission, giving him a smile before sitting down next to him and cutting to the chase.

"Do you want to go out with me?" Marcus nearly spit out his coffee as you sat there and watched him a soft smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Once he calmed down and quit coughing, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get his bearings.

"Do I...what?" he pushed up his glasses - surely he couldn't have heard you correctly.

"Do you, Marcus Moreno," you pointed at him with a bemused expression, "want to go out with me? And I'll make this super clear, do you want to go out with me on a date, with romantic intentions? I'd like to take you to dinner sometime."

"Me?" he bumbled as a tinge of pink flushed into his cheeks.

"Of course you," you laughed lightly at him and he visibly relaxed at the warm sound, "unless there's another Marcus Moreno around I should know about?"

"I...no..no. Only me."

"I hope not," you insisted as you reached over and straightened his glasses, "because I'm quite fond of this one. You don't have to of course...please tell me if I'm overstepping boundaries since you are technically the boss. And perhaps I flatter myself with thinking you might feel the same."

"I'd love to," he nodded as he relaxed and grinned back around you, "I...ugh...yeah. I'll really like that."

"Great," you beamed at him, making him melt all over again, "its a date."

»»————-　♡　————-««

That had been a few months ago, and some days he still couldn't believe his luck. Then again, neither could you - how you had gotten on lucky as to call Marcus your own you would never know.

Marcus had been nervous about stepping back into the dating field, well you, you were the first and only, but you'd made it so easy. There was never any awkwardness or worry or fear...it all just fell into sweet, blissful place.

The thing he has been most nervous about though was Missy. Her approval meant everything, she was his world after all. But he also wanted you to like her because you were also becoming an increasingly big part of his world.

But his worries had been for naught because you fell in love with the young girl when you'd met her and vice versa. Now the two of you were thick as thieves, often ganging up on him. Not that he minded of course; his heart hadn't felt so full and happy in a long time and that was everything to him.

"Honey?" you put your hand on his shoulder before giving it a gentle squeeze. Marcus had been halfway through stirring a pot of pasta, homemade that afternoon by yourself and Missy, but had completely zoned out. As soon as he felt your gentle touch he seemed to snap back into reality, a small smile crossing his features. You gently tapped the side of his before he leaned in and kissed you, "What's going on up there, Moreno?"

"Nothing," he turned back to the pot and gave it a final stir before putting the lid back on. He reached for you, his hands easily finding purchase on your hips as he tugged your towards him. You made a small sound of surprise before snaking your arms around his neck and carding a hand through his dark locks, "just thinking about how much I love you."

Love. That's what this was. He knew that now, hell, he'd known for some time, but he'd been nervous to admit to it. He never thought he'd be saying those words again, at least not to anyone besides Missy or his mother.

And it had terrified him. It had scared him to death - the idea of loving another again. At first he didn't know how to respond, how to react or what to do. It was overwhelming and all consuming, and yet...it made him happy. So happy. And it was apparent to everyone around him - how filled with life he was again, how the light never faded from his eyes, how his smile was bigger than ever. That's when he knew exactly what it was.

Of course, Marcus being Marcus, was so concerned with when and how to tell that he blurted it out during the middle of sex. It was right when you were both on the precipice of your climaxes, and he couldn't help himself as he nuzzled his face into your shoulder.

It had been slightly unexpected, sure, but you just kissed him and repeated the words back to him sweetly - reverently. You knew too that this wasn't like anything you'd experienced before...this was everything.

"I love you too, Marcus," you whispered as you trailed a few fingers along jaw, touching the patchy stubble that you loved so much, "I-"

"The kitchen is a communal place," Missy groaned at the two of you as he came down the stairs, her backpack and sleepover gear in tow, "I'd appreciate if we kept it that way."

"Very funny," Marcus pulled back from you with a wink as you went over and helped Missy with her stuff, "I'm the adult I make the rules!"

"Whatever Dad," she sassed him as you just laughed, "see you tomorrow. Love you!"

"Love you too kiddo," Marcus offered her a wave as you carried her bag to the door for her.

"Have fun with your friends," you leaned down and gave her a tight hug. She responded in kind before taking her things in hand, "don't get into too much trouble, yeah? And if you need anything, we'll be right here."

"We won't," she insisted with a sly little grin that you couldn't quite believe, "have fun too! See you tomorrow. I love you!"

And just as quick as a flash she was bolting out the door and down the street to her friend's house. It took you a moment to recover as you realized what she had said. You walked back to the kitchen with a grin on your face and your heart feeling like it was going to overflow at any moment.

"What?" Marcus asked as you walked in a daze.

"Missy," your voice was soft as you leaned against the counter, "she said she loved me...its the first time she's said it."

"And why wouldn't she?" he too felt an overwhelming rush of emotion as he realized just how much this meant to him, "you're pretty amazing after all."

"I love her too, so much...I just...I want her to know I love you and her and I want to be a part of your lives but I would ever try to replace her mom," you explained as he nodded in understanding. Marcus moved to stand in front of you, his hands finding either side of your face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "how did I get so lucky to find the two of you? I love you both more than you will ever know."

"And so we do," he promised as he leaned in and properly kissed you, "I love you."

Without thinking, you hopped onto the counter and wrapped your legs around his waist before wrapping your arms around his neck. His large, warm hands slowly worked their way from your waist to up and under your shirt, as he skimmed your soft skin.

Your soft kisses quickly turned into hungry, needy ones as you pulled off his glasses and tossed them aside. Marcus went from your lips to your jaw before working his way down your neck, biting and sucking at the delicate skin.

"Marcus," you almost moaned his name as you pressed yourself against the hardness you could already feel in his jeans, "this is a communal space. Keep it clean."

"Don't want to," he huffed with laughter as his hand moved to the button of your jeans and he quickly undid the fly. He lifted you up briefly as he pulled down your jeans and underwear as you reached for his jeans to repeat the process.

Your mouths almost never parted, except for the soft giggles that flowed as you felt more like naughty schoolchildren that could be caught at any second, rather than grown adults.

"Marcus - the food," you suddenly remembered. He shook his head as you paused for a moment.

"Its all off," he promised while cupping your breasts in his hands, earning a delighted moan from you, "it can all wait. Dessert first."

"Then take me," you tugged down just jeans and boxers, pushing them down as he wasted no time in lining himself up at your entrance and slowly pushing in. When he bottomed out, you both groaned in between kisses as he gave you a moment to adjust.

Then there was no rush, and he started to move languidly, setting a gentle pace as he kept on kissing you. It was sweet, sex with Marcus was always something you thoroughly enjoyed, especially times like this. It was so intimate, so loving, it was everything and all consuming at once.

"'m not gonna last," he whispered as he left a trail of fiery kisses along your jaw. You nodded in agreement as you held him close, trying to memorize every touch, every feel.

"'s okay, honey," you promised as you guided him back to your lips, "come with me, please. I love you Marcus, I love you so much."

That was all it took to get him to reach his peak as your walls hugged him and you both came with small moans. Marcus held you tightly as you tried to catch your breath and he stayed buried inside you, peppering you in the most saccharine of kisses, "I love you too. More than you will ever know."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x fem!reader #wcbh #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #we can be heroes

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grey-water-colors · 3 years

Text

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

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

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

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

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

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

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

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

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

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

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

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

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fic #mcu #x reader #x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #reader insert #mcu imagine #marvel universe #the avengers

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bots-and-cons · 3 years

Note

If this is too dark, or if you aren't in the headspace to respond, please feel free to ignore this. I've been feeling a little sad lately, and I was wondering if I could get Bumblebee, Optimus, and Starscream's reaction to their human conjunx with recent self harm scars? If you don't want to answer, that is completely fine, you can absolutely delete this!! I hope you're doing well, sending you my thoughts and love!!

I did some scenarios, and it isn't too dark. Selfharm is something I struggle with as well, even though I haven't hurt myself in a while now, but the urges happen pretty often. I feel like Screamer is pretty OOC, but that’s just how I felt about him at the time of writing this so deal with it. I didn’t feel like writing Bee this time, but I have this post about him on the same topic. Also if you search “selfharm” on my blog you can find stuff on that subject with other characters too

~Starscream~

“What the scrap are these?” Starscream shrieked, which brought you out of your slumber.

“What the hell Star? Why are you yelling in the middle of the night?” you groaned in your half asleep state.

You looked up at him and saw him pointing at your wrist. Your sleeve had hiked up your arm and exposed the fairly recent cuts that were scattered all over it.

“Fuck” you sighed. “You know what they are”

“Yes, but why do they look so fresh? I thought you had stopped with this”

“Because I didn’t stop, okay? I couldn’t, I can’t, I don’t know how…”

“By Primus you infuriate me sometimes” Starscream muttered.

“Well screw you too” you said, turned your back to him and pulled your covers over your head.

Starscream could see you starting to tremble and he could hear you trying to keep your voice down so he couldn’t hear you cry, but he heard you anyway.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that” he sighed and grabbed your covers carefully with two digits, pulling them back down to your shoulders. He also turned you back to face him.

“We-Well how the hell did you mean it then?” you cried.

“I just meant that I don’t like seeing you hurt. That infuriates me, seeing you in so much pain that you end up hurting yourself. Why wouldn’t you just contact me?”

“Because what the hell am I supposed to say to you? “Love of my life, I feel like I can’t cope and hurt myself again, come get me, giant robot boyfriend whose existence is supposed to be a secret”? You can’t help me with this, no matter how much you want to” you said shakily.

“Maybe not, but for Primus’ sake you could at least let me try” he groaned.

“What if I don’t want you to? What if I just want you to live your life and be happy without me?”

“There is one major flaw in that logic”

“And what’s that?” you asked, with a tad of mockery in your voice.

“I can’t be happy without you” Starscream said.

That sentence, those words, broke the dam. You threw yourself at his hand and cried until you fell back to sleep. Starscream watched you pretty much the whole night and kept rubbing your back with two of his digits. If it was up to him, he would never let you go.

~Optimus Prime~

You were sitting on the sofa at the base and watching Optimus while he worked on the computer. Everyone else was on a mission and Ratchet was recharging for the first time in forever, so the two of you got a little bit of time to yourselves.

Your thigh was itching like crazy, but you were sure that if you gave in to the temptation of scratching it, Optimus would notice something was wrong. He was perceptive like that and he knew the signs of when you had hurt yourself.

From the corner of his optic, Optimus could see you on the couch. You seemed to be struggling with something, since you looked quite antsy.

“Are you alright my love?” he asked and turned to you, stopping whatever it was that he was doing on the computer.

“I’m good, why are you asking?” you smiled nervously.

“You seem like something is bothering you”

“It’s just… I don’t want to disappoint you”

“Just tell me what is going on, please”

“I… I hurt myself again last evening and…” your voice faded to silence at the end.

Optimus just looked at you. You knew he wouldn’t get mad at you over this, but you still felt like you had let him down somehow.

“I am aware it is a bit late to ask, but do you require medical attention?”

“No, no, the wounds are really superficial and I cleaned them afterwards, so I should be fine… I know it’s a dumb thing to do, but sometimes I don’t know what else to do when I have a bad moment”

“I’m worried about you (Name), I know you do not mean to end your life, but I worry that one day you are going to take it too fat, even if it is by accident, and just knowing you feel the need to hurt yourself because you are in such a bad place mentally, pains me” Optimus said and offered his servo to you. You stepped onto his hand and he lifted you closer to his face. “I do not mean to guilt you about the matter, but I still hope you know that” he added.

“I know you don’t mean anything bad by it, but even so, I gotta admit, it stings a bit” you said and looked down.

Optimus had always appreciated your honesty and that was not about to change now. He just didn’t really know what to say to you after that. You finally broke the silence and said: “I would like to ask you something”

“What would you like to know?”

“Why do you even put up with me? You have your duties as a Prime and I feel like I’m just adding to your burden, by… being me. I don’t understand why you would want someone like me as your conjunx”

“My love…” Optimus sighed and the look in his optics saddened.

“I’m sorry, forget I asked” you said and shook your head.

“There is nothing to “put up with” as you put it. I love you, all of you, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind about that” he smiled gently and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

You could feel the tears starting to roll down your cheeks, but for the first time in forever, they were happy tears. You knew Optimus would always be honest with you, and even though there was that little voice in the back of your head, telling you that you weren’t worthy of him, in that moment, that voice could go to hell. He loved you and you knew he always would, no matter what, because you were worth it.

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #decepticons #autobots #starscream #optimus prime #transformers angst #tfp scenarios #reader insert #transformers x reader #tfp x reader #selfharm tw #selfharm

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labyrinthof-fan-fiction · 3 years

Text

We Were Happy

Sam Wilson X Reader

Summary: Sam’s ex-fiancee is a member of the Falcon/Winter Soldier duo, fighting alongside them. It’s all good, until the events of TFATWS Episode 4. (this summary sucks, but my brain is so wiped from writing this)

A/N: This one is not for the faint of heart. I was listening to Taylor’s “We Were Happy” on my drive home today, and for some reason my brain immediately just went to Sam, I really can’t tell you why. I don’t own TFATWS, its characters, or “We Were Happy”

Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore, Death, Violence, Funeral Scene, Swearing.

Word Count: 2,665

Sam was shaking, Karli had threatened Sarah and the boys. He wasn’t thinking straight. “She overstepped.”

“Sam, you can’t take her on alone.” You said, pulling on your combat jacket.

“I agree,” Bucky said, as you both chased him down the stairs and onto the street.

Violence begins after page break.

You knew you were walking into a fight, but you hadn’t expected John Walker and Lamar Hoskins to show up. You should have known they were tailing you. They always were. All hell broke loose, then you heard Lamar’s body hit the column next to you. You glanced down and knew he was gone. John ran and checked his pulse, but you knew he wasn’t going to find anything, then you saw his eyes turn black. You had seen that look before, “John, don’t.” You started, the Flag Smashers in the room shifted uneasily, then they started to run.

John snarled and chased one out the window. For a fleeting moment you glanced back at Sam, he was shaking his head. You closed your eyes and ran headfirst out of the window, your wings caught the breeze and you landed on your feet, chasing after the man clad in red, white, and blue.

He tripped the man he was following and threw him into the fountain, the shield raised above his head. You picked up your speed and slammed into the Flag Smasher, pushing him out of the way and putting yourself directly under the shield. A scream fell from your lips as the first blow landed on your chest. Your head fell to the side and you saw people gathering as John continued to deal blows to your body, cellphones filming.

“John.” You managed to say, but you looked up and saw the unhinged look in his eyes and you knew, this was your last fight. You glanced over and saw Sam run up with Bucky next to him, Bucky grabbed onto Sam’s shoulder. Tears fell from your eyes as you saw the panic rising in Sam’s eyes, you focused on him, just Sam. Maybe just staring into his eyes would be enough to save you.

Sam was frozen in place as he watched John deal the final blow to your chest, horror washed over him. Bucky’s grip on Sam loosened and he ran to your body on the steps. “No, no no,” He chanted as he fell to his knees at your side. He tried to not see the blood that was pooling under you, tried not to think about how bad it truly was.

“Sam.” You murmured weakly, reaching your hand for his. He clasped yours tightly.

“You stay with me, you hear me dammit? You’re not going anywhere.” He said through a clenched jaw, tears were falling down his face. His eyes traveled down to the wound from the shield and he saw the engagement ring hanging from your neck. He pressed his spare hand against the wound, trying to stop the blood.

“Couldn’t get rid of it.” You said before a cough shook your body.

“Baby, please.” He whispered, “Please hold on, we’ll get you to a hospital, they’ll save you.”

Your eyes closed as another cough ripped from your lips. “Sam,” You murmured. “I love you.”

His other hand moved through your hair to cradle your face. “I love you too, baby, so much. Hold on. Please, hold on.” He chanted, but he heard your breath growing weaker. He gently placed his forehead against yours, “Please, God, not this.”

Your eyes met his as you felt the rattle in your chest grow stronger. “Goodbye, Sam.” He watched as a small smile came across your lips and your eyes closed, he felt your hand grow slack in his.

“No, no, no!” He shouted through his tears as he pulled you close to him, resting your head against his chest as your final breath left your body. He could see the cellphones all pointed at him, he couldn’t take it. He cradled your body against his chest and found himself eye to eye with John as he stood.

“Sam….” John started, Sam’s eyes fell on your blood on the shield, he refused to meet the man’s eyes.

Sam gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, he knew that this was not the time to say what he truly thought of the other man. Not here, not now. He expanded his wings and took off with your body, not saying a word to John.

Sarah helped him with planning the funeral, honestly she did most of the work. Choosing flowers, the casket, making arrangements with the church. He found himself on the dock, standing next to the family boat. He stared out on the water, remembering when you both had been children and played on the docks while your parents worked. He could hear your laughter. He was broken from his stupor by Sarah coming up next to him.

“Are you going to carry her?” She asked gently.

Sam met her eyes, “I…” He had spent the past few days trying not to think about your funeral. “Yes.”

Sarah placed her hand on his back, rubbing a circle, comforting him like she had when they were kids. She looked down and saw the engagement ring he was twirling in his fingers. “She held onto that for so long. She was convinced that you were coming back.”

Sam chuckled, “Then I came back and fucked everything up.”

Sarah sighed, “I don’t think you fucked it all up, you both had the past few weeks together.”

Sam looked over the water, “There’s so much I wish I had said. I wish I had done.” The sun started to sink beneath the horizon. “And now, I’m not sure where I go from here.”

“You don’t have to have a plan right now. No one expects you to have everything together, after what you just went through.”

Sam scoffed and stared out watching the sun fade beneath the tide, wishing that you were next to him. John had murdered you, in broad daylight, with the shield that Steve had chosen him for. And Sam rejected it, gave it to America, and America gave it to the man who ended your life. He knew the reasons he gave it up, at the time, they had been the right reasons. But now, all he wanted was to go back in time and force himself to keep it, let it rust in a corner of a barn for all he cared. If he would have kept his nose out of any of the Avengers business, you would still be here.

Tears were streaming down Sam’s face as he carried your casket to your final resting place. He had remained silent through the entire funeral, Bucky at his side. Bucky had given him space and he was grateful, but now he was grateful for his support. Sam watched as they lowered your casket in the ground, Taps began to call through the cemetery, the shots of the salute felt like they ripped through his heart. He remained silent as they finished, then a man walked up to him with a folded flag.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He saluted, then placed the flag in Sam’s arms. Sam’s eyes fell on the small triangle that was meant to honor your memory, your service, then a sob broke through his lips. He felt his knees buckle and Bucky grabbed his elbow to hold him steady. The cemetery cleared and he was left with the flag cradled in his arms. Bucky removed his arm from his elbow and Sam’s legs gave out. Sam’s heart felt heavy as he sobbed at the pile of dirt that covered you, Bucky stood vigil with him until the sky turned to night and the stars sparkled against the black. Bucky accompanied him back to the house. Sam paused on the street, remembering the night he had proposed to you, right before you both had been sent to you assignments. The porch lights had illuminated the two of you, he put his hand in his pocket and thumbed at the ring. The two of you had been so happy in that moment, carefree kids, for just one moment.

A week later, Sam was alone in your apartment, he took in the sight of the kitchen, almost expecting you to step into it and chide him for standing there and doing nothing. He moved around the table and found an envelope with his name scrawled in your handwriting. It seemed so out of place in your kitchen, he thumbed at the edge, debating if he wanted to read it. What could you say? Did you know this mission would be your last? He sighed and opened the envelope, seeing multiple pages inside.

Sam,

If you’re reading this, I’ve gone and done something stupid. I don’t know if you’ll be the one to find it or if someone will pass it along to you. Maybe it will end up on a landfill somewhere, unopened and left to rot into the Earth. Either way, I’m going to assume you are reading this.

I’m sure you’re wondering, why a letter? We have technology, there is such thing as video recordings. Well, after the snap, I went to therapy. Yes, I know, hell froze over. But losing you, I dug myself into a hole and Sarah pulled me out, then left me on a therapist’s doorstep.

As a way to cope with loss she recommended that I write letters, to you, about you, put everything in writing. And I did, this won’t be the first one I wrote. I doubt you will find them, maybe you’ll be the one cleaning my apartment and you will find them. When I got the call to join you and Bucky I was surprised. Things between us hadn’t been the same since the blip, you barreled headfirst into work as an Avenger. Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you for becoming an Avenger? Baby, I am so proud of you. God, you’re amazing. I’m babbling, I know, but I’m probably dead, so let me get the last word in.

Remember when we were younger and we’d sit by the dock, watching the sunset over the boats. We hatched that scheme to buy back Dad’s farm, you’d have equal parts in the fishing business with Sarah, and we’d live out the rest of our days there. We were happy, weren’t we? I mean, on some level we had to be, I was going to marry you. You wanted to marry me. Then life got in the way.

I still wear the ring, on a chain around my neck, but it’s still on me. During the blip people told me not to hang onto it, he’s gone, find someone else and move on. But I couldn’t let go of you, not even when a crazy purple alien ripped you from existence. Because loving you was the happiest time of my life, I know you might not believe me, with how we left things that one night.

I don’t know how I’m going to die, I guess no one does, maybe you do, don’t the Avengers have the ability to time travel now? Ideally, I’m 99 and I’m sitting on Dad’s old porch, in the rocking chair next to you, watching that sun set behind the boats. We’d have lived a full life, had some kids, grandkids, kept the Wilson legacy alive. I’d like to think my last breath was taken, holding your hand the minute the sky changed to night. But I know, in our line of work, that’s not what happened. Don’t blame yourself, I expect that I knew what the consequences of my actions would be. I probably bet too much on luck. But that’s life, it’s a give and take, and eventually we all get the take end of the stick. Don’t turn to vengeance, I know you’re an Avenger, but don’t take that so literally. You are one of the best people on this planet, revenge would not be a good look on you, or Redwing.

The last thing I need you to know is that I never stopped loving you, I don’t think I will even in the afterlife, if there is such a thing, I’ll be waiting. I know I said harsh things that night, we both did, but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. I assume that I will end up in at least what is heaven, although thinking back to some of the things we did as kids, maybe not. But let’s say that I get to the pearly gates, know that I’ll be watching you, making sure you don’t meet me too early. Maybe I’ll see you in the clouds, but let’s not pull an Icarus, I don’t know if I’ll be able to save your ass. Do you think I could get my own pair of permanent wings?

One last thing, I know I’m longwinded, but c’mon, I’m dead, these are my last words. Remember when the circus came to town and we snuck in? Something I don’t think I ever told you is, that was the first day I realized I loved you. You wrapped your arms around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. I don’t know what that kiss meant to you, but that kiss, when we were stupid teens, ruined me for anyone else. I wish I could have apologized to you, made amends. We both needed a break, to find ourselves, to remember who we were. The world changed so much after all those people snapping their fingers. Maybe if I was braver I have said these things to you before you read this, if not, I’m sorry. Sam Wilson, I love you and have always loved you. Even though we’ve been on hold, I always knew that we would make our way back.

I don’t want you to think that you have to hold a candle for me until the end of times. Find someone who cares about you, who loves you so much. Maybe move into Dad’s farm, and make a home with them. I probably haven’t told you yet, but I bought that old farm a year ago. It’s not in the best of shape, it needs some love. The deed is enclosed with this letter, along with my will. If you don’t want it, sell it, give it to Sarah and the boys, hell torch the place. But it’s yours, just like my heart.

Love you, forever and always.

Sam’s tears fell onto the pages, he moved them away and wiped his tears away. He’d be lying if he said that he moved on from you. You both had decided when he returned that taking a break would be a good plan, he was going to be focused on missions and you were trying to help others rebuild their lives. Then he asked you to help him with missions, with Bucky. It had almost felt like nothing had changed. It was great, until John got involved, until John killed you. His fingers tightened on the pages, wrinkling the edges. He sat down at your table, reading over the pages, looking at the deed in his hands. He had set the will on the table, keeping his eyes from it. The top corner that he could see had his name scrawled across it.

He glanced around the kitchen, and looked back at the letter, I’m so proud of you. “We were happy, baby. We were so happy.” He folded the letter, deed, and will and put them in the pocket of his jacket. He zipped the jacket and exited the building, Bucky was waiting outside, he raised his eyebrow at Sam. Sam simply tilted his head and the pair fell into step next to each other, walking the streets of your old town, intent on their next mission.

#sam wilson x reader #Sam Wilson Imagine #tfatws imagine #tfatws episode 4 spoilers #i don't know if i needed to tag that #oh well #violence #murder #blood #death #read the warnings #falcon imagine #i really don't know why my brain wanted to do this to Sam #need something fluffy for him now #god i'm so sorry #sam x reader #sam imagine #we were happy

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homesteadchronicles · 3 years

Text

Original Writing Excerpt: “To Me”

Hello, my homies! I have an unexpected piece of writing to share with you all today, one not related to my known WIPs. Instead, this comes from the world I detailed here, one I’ve now been given permission to flesh out into a full-fledged story.

You don’t need to know the world in order to read, but I’ve provided the necessary context below in order to dive on in!

CHARACTERS:

Ero “Del’Gris” Idess: An intergalactic music idol in service to her agent, Kiladian Wellthane, who enlists her help in exposing his enemies’ corruption. Yoselle of the Starsea (”Ghost”): Ero’s bodyguard and long-time employee of Kiladian Wellthane whose unspoken feelings for Ero grieve him.

CONTEXT:

Ero and Yoselle have been dispatched by Kiladian to the Polaris Nightclub in order to secure information on the corrupt CEO of a pharmaceutical empire. When Ero botches her mission, she seeks comfort from a source both she and her target know can only lead to complications.

THE EXCERPT:

You are a specter: ethereal, immaterial, insignificant. She is a spotlight: illuminating, enticing, unyielding. These two halves cannot hold one another. These pieces fit different puzzles. But she needs something to elucidate and you did not hallucinate her invitation to centerstage. Still you skirt around the sidelines, flirting with shadows, fearful of exposure. She stands, a beacon in the clubhouse, awaiting your answer.

You refuse to reply.

Polaris, you convince yourself, requires better surveillance than the shoddy bodyguards provide it. Expensive liquor, lavish decor, and a distinct lack of security – the omen of emergencies. It was everything you loathed and Ero loved.

She didn’t seem to mind now, not that she ever had before. Why would she? She has you. Needs you. Wants you, a part of you thinks, hopes, refutes. Ero plays her role without shame. Flattery reserved a permanent space in her mouth and her lips make use of their eternal inhabitant to elicit information even when her hips were in motion.

Your place lies elsewhere. Astride. Afar. Procurer and protector both had their parts to play. Separately.

Then why does she keep staring at me?

It is your fifth circuit around the dance floor when you notice her attraction attention. Her gaze ought to be on your target, on Gentarou Hongou, on the mastermind of a corrupt pharmaceutical company. Her hand would bat his chest as her lashes bat her cheeks and he would indulge her as everyone always did. Their mission depended on his entanglement. Did she expect to seduce him with a half-given gaze?

Either Ero or Gentarou comes to the same conclusion, as she discreetly excuses herself to evacuate the floor and he does not even bother watching as she goes. You give chase, coming to a heel behind her as she reaches the dancing’s edge. Stress tugs her brows together. She has disappointed her target. Disappointed herself. Worse, you realize, she has disappointed Kiladian.

“You’re off your game,” you note. A comment and a question intermingle therein, indiscernible.

Ero maneuvers through the crowd with angered grace. Each foot falls just shy of stepping on another’s toes, the click of her heels on the metal beneath like a tongue snapping against bared teeth. “Hongou’s harder than I thought,” she mumbles, “and not in the way I need him to be.”

The bar comes quickly into focus as you follow her. It’s going to be a long night.

Ero glides into the shaky comfort of a barstool. Before you can intercept, she has the bartender concocting something with a name you won’t remember for a price you cannot fathom. Ero’s erratic when inebriated and adamant when infuriated – not a winning combo for their cause.

She beckons you over with a caress of the empty seat beside her and you stiffen. Your place is beneath behind her. But, for a moment, weariness cracks her mask and the lonely soul inside creeps out. “Ghost,” she drawls. Her fingers walk up your chestplate, eyes unblinking in unspoken expectation, and you will indulge her as you always have. “To me.”

The seat is filled before you can stop yourself.

Two drinks slide along the countertop and stop in front of them, one a glittering gray encrusted with crystal and the other a dusty yellow clouded by rising mist. Ero cradles the latter before acknowledging the former. “Oops. Looks like I ordered one too many.” Her tone holds no remorse, only mischief. She nudges the glass towards you. “Guess someone ought to keep me sober.”

You can’t deny that. Deny her. You drink.

Each sip is a burning kiss to your lips, searing all the way down until the sweetness kicks in thereafter. It’s easier to forget the sting when the aftertaste settles in. You swallow again. Again. Again, until you learn to love the flames, too.

Ero only toys with her order. It’s not her usual selection, not her Nightfire. The glass in front of her holds Del’Gris’ favorite - all flash and fruitiness - but no bite. Which means she believes the show must go on. Which means Del’Gris gets an encore.

You need to navigate this delicately. “Hongou gave you the slip?”

“He may as well have. Kiladian’s information was off – Hongou’s not involved.”

“You’re sure?”

Ero dips her head as if to nod before it droops in defeat. “Honestly? I don’t know. Making heads or tails of the man is more complicated than making eyes at him.” She retrieves the cherry inside her drink and rips it clean off the stem. “I’m not myself tonight.”

“That’s not true.” The words slip out before you can subdue them. An unfortunate error, but Ero appraises you with wide-eyed surprise and you wonder whether it was a blessing in disguise. “You were not Del’Gris tonight, true. Del’Gris holds every man captive in her grasp. But you were Ero tonight – and any glimpse behind the curtain is enough to fluster a lesser man like Hongou.”

Ero twists your words around in her mind like the stem she knots in her mouth. When she pulls the stem free, her answer spills out too. “You know me too well.”

Not as much as I’d like, you think. Still not enough to keep you safe. It is an unbidden - but honest - admission. Not one Ero would adhere to half-plastered and wholly penitent. You settle for “well enough to know when you’re not well.”

She scoffs into her cup, a bitter laugh against sweet liquor. “Can’t get any worse”. Ero raises her hand and requests another round of liquid courage: Nighfire on the rocks. It’s a slow burn, she told you once, reeking of booze and other bodies, just the way I like it.

You hadn’t liked it. Hadn’t liked the way her hair ensnared your shoulders, encircling you in her scent as you scraped her offstage. Hadn’t liked the lingering kindling of body heat. Hadn’t liked how much you dreamt of her touch afterwards.

The bartender brings her his poison and she tips it back in one go. Tipsy, but standing, Ero advances towards the dance floor. “Well, if our mission’s botched, must as well bust a move.” Half-lidded eyes hone in on you. “Don’t make me do it alone.”

There’s a plea beneath that tease, but the implications complicate your reaction. To stay would be wise. To go would be wine, a gradual inebriation, a delight today and a mistake tomorrow. A slow burn.

Noticing your hesitance, knowing your heart’s a mess, she approaches. “I’m not the only one unwell,” Ero whispers. Her tender denouncement strangles your judgment. “But we both have to choose health.”

She steps away. The crowd begins to swallow her, enclosing on all sides. Ero extends her hand to you. “Ghost,” she calls out. Her fingers curl inwards, a gambler clutching their stake. “To me.”

Your hand finds hers before you can stop yourself.

Polaris’ patrons shove you deeper into the throng of hedonism. Writhing bodies surround you on all sides, ushering you and Ero closer, closer, closer along to the beat of a song. You can’t make it out – not over the beat of your heart.

But Ero can. She leans into you, giggles sending shockwaves against your skin, and it’s then you realize: the woman on the soundtrack is Del’Gris, but the one in your arms is Ero.

In my arms. The thought locks into place before you can register that your arms are, in fact, around her. Mechanically? Yes. Uncomfortably? Undoubtedly. Neither of you seem to mind, if the way she slides her hands around your neck and nuzzles into its crook is any evidence.

Then again, you always were the problem. After all, what right have you to hold her after haunting her for so long?

“You’re overthinking it,” Ero says. You’re not the only one who knows the other too well. “Maybe I ought to take the lead.”

You both laugh at that, at yourselves, at everything that your twisted lives have led to because if you don’t laugh, you might both break. Then again, at least you’d crumble into one another.

Ero only leans back and leads on. Your hands keep her feet aloft, her back aligned. This imperfect rhythm, this imbalancing act, leaves you both in synchronized breathlessness.

Neon lights illuminate your mingling skin in a patchwork of discordant colors. They rise to wreath Ero in a heathen’s halo: green envy, violet ire, scarlet lust. The crowd around exalts her alias - “Del’Gris! Del’Gris! Del’Gris” - but Ero has only ever worshipped you.

Always the star, you muse, and I am but the planet trapped in orbit.

“They’re calling for their queen,” you tease.

“They’re calling for Del’Gris,” she clarifies, “but I believe someone requested Ero.”

“You must have heard a ghost.”

Whatever impish inclinations Ero might otherwise maintain were exorcised in an instant. Seriousness seats itself in place of playfulness, mouth thin and eyes taut. Her hand rises to graze his cheek. “Ghost you may be to everyone else, but you’re always Yoselle to me.”

You have been brutalized by mobsters, held for ransom by hitmen, and crushed by an atmospheric crucible more times than you can count, but nothing has ever taken hold of your heart half as hard as that. “I never mind playing the specter if it means shadowing you.” And it’s true. You would spend the rest of your days in obscurity if it meant skirting around her radiance.

But Ero has never been one to settle for second best.

“Oh, is that so?” That ruinous mischief reclaims her lilting smile as she presses herself inward, upward. “In that case,” she whispers and her breath is a phantom promise against your lips. “Ghost, to me.”

Your mouth finds hers before you can stop yourself.

#writing excerpt #original writing #my writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writer things #writing things #original wip #writer #writers #write #wip #my wip #project: falcrux #also yes #there is a blatant nonary games/zero escape reference in here #iykyk

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