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arminsumi · 6 months

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「 🔴 RECORDING 」

found footage of satoru's student years... recorded on the camcorder that he carried around everywhere.

warnings : heavy angst, fluff, implied death, not proofread

[ the first footage is one minute long. there's two blue eyes widening comedically on the screen. the resolution is low and the audio is tinny. ]

"Ooo it works... well hellooooooo there... i'm... GOJO!! SATORU!! and this is... suguuuuruu getooooo... oh look at that walk, you're such a model."

[ the camera is on suguru, who's walking with bad posture. he doesn't like the camera. ]

[ he has his old hairstyle; this was recorded before his hair was long enough to be in the bun style. he hides his face from the camera. ]

"... aw, he's a model that doesn't like cameras. anyways... this is the beautiful... STUNNING... hot... talented... playing-hard-to-get... (haha kidding)... y/n~"

[ the camera pans to you. you can hear the flirty tone in satoru's voice. ]

"... we are currently walking through the gates of hell..."

[ the camera pans to the school. the resolution clears for a second to show a blue sky with slowly drifting clouds. ]

"okay. we have arrived in hell; look there's satan himself—"

[ the camera pans to yaga. ]

[ the footage ends with yaga confiscating satoru's camera and scolding him. ]

[ a video starts off shaky. the camera is dropped on the train floor and suguru sighs. ]

"satoru...... did you just break it after having it for one day?"

[ satoru picks it up and gives a toothy smile to the screen. ]

"nah. she's all good. not even a scratch. ooh... suguru we look so hot. and look how hot y/n is... she's so scandalous — sittin' next to me on the train. this proximity's got me sweatin', baby... kidding kidding... don't gimme that look!"

[ suguru gives the middle finger to the camera and satoru's iconic laugh sounds beautiful even through the crap audio quality. ]

[ there's a 3 minute video that's half-corrupted of a party happening in your apartment... of just you, satoru, suguru and shoko. lykke li's "i follow rivers" is playing loudly, satoru is screaming the lyrics in broken english and suguru is recording you and him dancing like maniacs. shoko is offering her cigarette to the camera and blowing smoke into the lens. ]

[ there's a 25 second clip of satoru aggressively kissing you until you laugh. ]

[ there is a photo of satoru crouching to pet a cat. he's holding an umbrella. ]

[ there is corrupted footage of laughter and a flicker of the video shows a tiny pot on a stove with ramen cooking in it. ]

[ there's a photo of you, satoru, suguru and shoko. you and satoru are looking at each other like lovebirds. suguru is giving the finger to the camera. shoko is laughing with her eyes closed. ]

[ a long video of satoru waking up in a hotel bed. he looks like he just woke up. he blinks at the camera, bleary-eyed and cute with puffy lips and messy hair. ]

"goodmornin'."

[ his morning rasp is strong. ]

"i'm awake... but miss sleepy head and mister sleepy head are not, as you can see..."

[ he zooms in on your face. you're laid at his right, and suguru is laid at his left. ]

"here's the sleeping angel... and here's the sleeping dragon... anyways... WAKEY WAKEYYYYYYYYY!!! IT'S A BRIGHT NEW DAY!!!"

[ suguru's wakeful groan sounds groggy and disturbed by satoru's loud, piercing wake-up call. you scrunch your face as you wake up, seemingly out of a dream. ]

"satoru... what the hell is the matter with you..."

[ it's an ultra close-up shot of your nose as you mumble this. ]

"i was lonely being awake by myself, gosh. you're so mean!"

[ he experiences a voice crack. suguru gives a sleepy, murderous look at his best friend. ]

"satoru... i swear i'm gonna throw that camera into traffic one day."

[ suguru's mumbling into his pillow too softly to be taken seriously. ]

"wanna say that to the camera?"

[ suguru looks grouchy. ]

"i'll kill you."

"WOW... buddy, this is evidence if you ever do kill me... the police will find this footage... 'n put your FLAT ass in jail. aw... y/n fell back asleep look look... aw she's so fucking precious."

[ suguru and satoru admire you for a bit. there rest of the footage is corrupted. ]

[ footage of a breakfast in the same hotel. sunny side eggs are zoomed-in on. and there's only eggs. ]

"we're too broke to buy bacon, isn't that cool?"

[ satoru gets a nice view up his nose as he tilts the camera to himself. then he turns the camera to you, who's sleepily eating this miserable breakfast. ]

"... so we just have eggs to eat... heyyyy hot babe..."

[ satoru flirts with you and you roll your eyes in response, smiling and chewing on your egg, fork in one hand. ]

"wanna hear a joke?"

"mhm."

"if you ever broke up with me, what would you call me?"

"an idiot?"

"your eggs."

[ you groan and stop eating because his pun was so awful, but you've got a big smile on your face and satoru is laughing heartily. ]

[ the video ends with you and satoru leaning in for a big kiss and a sleepy suguru walking into the room, itching his tummy under his shirt. ]

[ there's a clip of you, satoru, suguru and shoko yelling happy new year and watching fireworks explode into blazing, brilliant colors. suguru winks at the camera as you hold it and you giggle flirtatiously back. there's clearly tension between you two that neither satoru nor shoko acknowledge in the moment, because the fireworks distract them. ]

[ there's footage of you, satoru and suguru kissing. it ends with satoru kissing the camera as a joke. ]

[ most of the footage is corrupted after this. in the next video, satoru seems a bit older. ]

[ there's footage of a solo satoru, who's been enlightened and and burdened with being the strongest. he's on a mission alone, keeping the camcorder on as he exorcises a curse. he trots over to the camera. he seems less enthusiastic compared to the other videos. ]

"aaand that's what the strongest looks like while he's at work."

[ satoru looks smug and goofy, but something is off. his features look worn and tired. ]

[ there is already that slightly disingenuous liveliness showing in his demeanor just in this small video; the version of satoru that his students would know as just normal gojo sensei. ]

[ his smile falters as he rambles about y/n and suguru. ]

"i'm gonna give y/n a big kiss when i get home. miss you, angel. haha... why am i talking to a camera all by myself... that's so sad. i'm gonna film myself gettin' that kiss at home, just to prove i'm not some lonely idiot. i have a hot fiancé..."

[ one of the last photos taken on this camera is dated; august 2009. it's of you and satoru sharing a big kiss... neither of you knew it at the time, but it was your last kiss. ]

[ the next piece of footage is from 2018. it's a 28 year old gojo, his features show his maturity and the weathering of all the years he's endured living without you and suguru.]

"i found this camera while cleaning up. if i look 'n sound funny it's 'cuz i've been crying haha......"

"...... i miss you two..... haha... i can't shove the camera in your faces like i used to, now can i?"

[ he awkwardly smiles at the camera but then his face trembles and contorts into an ugly-cry as if he just remembered every single memory of his youth. ]

[ the footage ends with a broken, barely audible "fuck..." falling from the teacher's lips as he starts to cry and drops the camera to the floor. the rest is corrupted footage... just heaving sobs of the man who has no more memories to record with suguru and y/n. ]

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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comatosebunny09 · 6 months

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fever dream | astarion a.

genre(s): fluff, angst

warning(s): language, self-indulgent, sick!reader, astarion’s a little ooc

now playing: the night does not belong to god - sleep token

notes: very self-indulgent because i’m sick and needed some comfort and @nanaoise08squad inspired me to finish this. thank you for reading, lovelies! ❤️❤️❤️

Somehow, the sun shines brighter today. Glaringly so.

You hold a hand to your temple to shield your eyes from its brilliance. Your armor feels heavier, too. Like boulders stacked on your shoulders and chest, making it harder to breathe. You force out a groan that’s gritty like ash. Trudge down the steps leading outside the inn to join your companions, your limbs weighted and achy.

“I hate to point out the obvious, darling.” Astarion grimaces with his hands curled to his chest in revulsion. He ducks away from the sight of you. Winces as you take a labored step forward, your balance thrown to the hells.

“But you look like utter shit.”

You scoff, phlegm making itself known in your throat.

What a way to be greeted by the love of your life.

“You sure are a flatterer, aren’t you, Astarion?”

You’re sure to drag out the vowels of his name—or perhaps your words are a little slurred due to whatever ailment took hold of you today. Nevertheless, you jab a finger between his ribs, your face twisting into something haughty.

You wonder if it was worth the exertion as your vision and body sway along with the trees, and your head pounds something menacing whilst a wave of vertigo hurtles into you.

“Shit!”

Astarion catches you when you pitch forward, your legs unable to grasp the rhythm of walking. And there are suddenly two of him. Two little ‘starions calling your name, fretting over you, shaking you to keep you amongst the conscious.

You feel like lead. Feel yourself sinking below the surface, unable to return.

Your lids shutter as if weighed down by sandbags. The muddled shouts of your friends trickle in, each tinged with varying degrees of concern. You register hands all over you, patting and pulling. Register a strained voice yelling stop, and the frantic touching ceases.

Before you fully succumb to the darkness, there is the sensation of you being lifted up, followed by the earthy scent of bergamot flooding your senses, and it furls around your heart.

Then, there is nothing.

Something savory draws you from the inkiness of your sleep. It curls around your mind, luring you into consciousness.

You caution a sound, your throat rubbed raw from disuse. You slowly open your eyes, and the bleariness gradually morphs into discernible shapes and colors. Somehow, this place feels familiar.

You’re back in your rented room. Nestled in the plushness of a mattress with too many pillows and sheets soft as linen. You will yourself onto your elbows, wincing at the stiffness of your neck. The pain is manageable. Better than it was before, you note, leisurely ingesting your surroundings.

A lone candle flickers on the nightstand, swathing the room in its bronze glow. Moonlight seeps through the curtains lining the window across. The faint symphony of crickets accompanies the murmur of the inn’s other patrons and the groans of the floorboards beyond your doorway.

Bloody hell.

How long have you been out?

On cue, the doorknob rattles, and a slither of light leaks in. The swell of noise outside commands your attention. You stiffen, fingers instinctively twitching for a weapon. But your bones settle as a thatch of white creeps into your vision from the threshold.

“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Astarion breathes. He toes the door shut, a steaming bowl of deliciousness cupped in his palms. Takes a few steps forward, rounded eyes flashing amber beneath the candlelight.

You recognize that aroma. The hearty scent which roused you from your sleep. Your stomach gnarls with life as Astarion nears the bed, donning that smug little mask.

“Hungry, are we?”

You nod enthusiastically, garnering a chuckle from the room’s other occupant. Suddenly self-conscious of how eager you are whilst he hands you the bowl, his fingers slinking away from yours as if he’s touched simmering coals.

“Courtesy of Gale,” Astarion supplies. “I can’t guarantee how good it tastes considering—well, you know. Undead and all that.”

His smile is tight-lipped. Guarded as he settles himself on a stool beside you, his spine straight and his ankles crossed. He helps you sit up against the headboard despite the unease permeating the air. Quickly retracts his hands to press them against the wood of his seat between his thighs, surveying your room.

You take some time to study him. Note that his eyebags seem more prominent than usual. Darker. Hair’s a little tussled, skin a bit paler. His shirt sits rumpled around his shoulders, the fastenings of it done all wrong. Worst of all, he has not looked at you for longer than a few beats. Like you’re made of glass and will shatter if he stares for too long.

A pang shoots through you, searing hot like lightning.

He was worried.

Worst of all, he was worried about you.

You’re no longer hungry, your stomach twisting as you gaze down at the stew bleeding warmth into your palms. You set it on the nightstand with a decisive clunk, quietly receding into yourself. Silently relenting to the smog of self-loathing draping itself across your shoulders.

“You scared me half to death, you know,” says Astarion, parting the tangled sea of your thoughts. As if he senses you berating yourself. It’s a soft drawl. An attempt at scolding you, but there’s weariness nestled in the undercurrents of it. “That’s saying a lot, considering I’ve already one foot in the grave.”

You peer up at him like a meager child. He watches you from his peripheral with crossed arms, his nose turned up, feigning disappointment. You see through the cracks of his façade, and your lips twitch with the threat of a smile.

He can be incredibly adorable when trying to shroud his feelings.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your tone barely above a whisper.

Astarion releases a resigned sigh. And the weight of the world seems to pour from his shoulders as he angles himself towards you, reaching for one of your hands.

His expression softens, and he squeezes, his palm frigid yet reassuring. For the first time since he entered, he truly looks at you. Gaze swims through your features as if to commit every detail, every imperfection, to memory. As if he could lose you at any second.

“No need to apologize, my love. I was just…concerned, is all. I suppose we all were when you went down.”

The recollection makes your face blossom with heat. Poor little darling, taken out by a nasty cold. Causing hysteria among your friends, deterring your journey.

Astarion thumbs your cheek, smiling something genuine at the pout on your lips.

Your tongue burns with the ache of a question, and you shrink, not wholly prepared for the answer.

“How long was I out for?”

“Nearly two days.”

You blanch, evoking another guttural laugh from Astarion.

“Shadowheart did her best to heal you. There was only so much her magic could mend. So, we’ve been playing the waiting game while you caught up on your beauty sleep. Not like you need much more of it.”

You snort at Astarion’s cheekiness.

Leave it to your little star to find every opportunity to flatter you.

He examines your joined hands thoughtfully, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“It’s been centuries since I’ve dealt with mortal illnesses. Honestly, I couldn’t begin to fathom how to comfort you. Other than gracing you with my presence, of course.”

It’s refreshing to see his humor is still intact despite his beloved pulling a Snow White.

For a while, you sit like this. Basking in the moment’s serenity, holding hands. Grinning and laughing like two enamored fools when your gazes interlock. You can tell that Astarion’s lightyears away, however. At war with himself, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, reprimanding himself for not being your proverbial knight in shining armor.

Absently, you scoot over. Relinquish your love’s hand—much to his chagrin—to pat the space beside you. You affix him with a look that’s all too serious as you say, “For starters, you could try holding me.”

Astarion stares at you with rounded eyes. Mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, forming around words that he can’t quite conjure.

“Oh. A-Alright,” he finally musters. Dumbfounded, Astarion stands, maneuvering to sit beside you on the bed. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Never does, unused to being so vulgar, so unabashed with his feelings.

Though, for you, you know he would rearrange the stars in the sky if he could.

So you help him, tugging him closer and falling into the circle of his arms. You nestle against his chest with a pleased hum vibrating your throat. Tangle your legs together, ignoring the surprised sound that leaves him.

He’s a lovely contrast to your still-enflamed skin. Fits like a puzzle piece against you, soft and lithe. He relaxes gradually, tucking you ever closer against him as if you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke if he lets go. He pets through your hair before anchoring his chin to the crown of your head, surrendering a satisfied sigh.

“Well, I supposed this isn’t so bad, now is it?” Astarion husks, stroking soothing circles into the notches of your spine.

You nod offhandedly, your lids lowering, and your body feeling at ease.

Suddenly, your ailment seems more bearable as you sink below the depths of slumber, an unguarded smile cresting over your lips.

The shadows of your conjoined bodies dance along the walls as the candlelight dwindles, and you both surrender to the tranquility of the night.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fluff #tw: language #tw: angst #tw: self loathing #tw: sickness #sick!tav #sick!reader #astarion comfort #bg3 #bg3 astarion

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ecoamerica · 15 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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intotheelliwoods · 1 year

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I just want everyone to know that they asked for this, and I cried twice making it

This is part 1! Part 2 can be found here~

Context, along with more comics can be found on my blog!

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atsumulogy · 1 year

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“atsumu, when i die —”

“no, stop, don’t say that. ‘ya aren’t going to die.” he interrupted you before you could even finish, his gaze burning.

“of course i won’t, i’m immortal!” you joked. and to this, he flashed a small smile.

“but, hypothetically, if i do die, i want you to make my coffin look cute. maybe LED lights? yeah, and —” you were cut off with your rambling by a kiss to your lips. the two of you savoring the fleeting moment, gripping onto his shirt as you felt yourself weaken from his touch.

“yes, angel, i’ll do that okay? now stop yappin’ about ‘ya dying. ‘ya aren’t goin’ to die. i — i won’t even let ‘ya.” he said with so much determination that you couldn’t help but believe him.

your eyes feel heavy. “‘tsumu?”

“hm?” he looks at you, shimmering eyes.

“i’m tired, i wanna go to sleep.”

“oh — okay, sure — i, i love ‘ya, goodnight. let’s talk again tomorrow, m’kay?” he asked, the hope in his voice felt quite cruel to even exist.

“of course, i love you.”

the beeping from the monitor went to a deafening halt. atsumu felt like he was suffocating, the air in his lungs evaporating. you — the air that filled his lungs, the air he breathes, ceased. the shimmer in his eyes turned into tears.

you two never really did get to properly talk again tomorrow, or the day after that, or ever again.

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merakiui · 2 months

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time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

#meraki mumbles #tw: death #tw: angst #floyb... T^T

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millenialfanfictionaddiction · 1 year

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Comparing you to their Ex girlfriend

Kiyoomi Sakusa x Fem! reader; Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader

Warnings: toxic behavior, swearing, Sakusa and Atsumu being big ole jerks, mention of ex’s, angst to comfort

AN: because I enjoy pain : D

Sakusa

Dating life had been pretty dull before you met MSBY’s famed spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa. It had taken awhile to get to know him. He was a guarded and rather brass individual, not talking much to anyone outside his small circle. However after weeks of trying and being rejected, you finally were able to break thought his defensive walls. He had finally given you a chance.

Now, almost a year later, you and Kiyoomi had a well established routine. It had taken a while to figure out each other quirks, but soon you were able to function as one unit, living your lives both independently and cohesively.

However, one thing you struggled continuously to get use to was Kiyoomi’s high standards of cleanliness. No matter how hard you tried, you never were able to keep up. You knew it was a big reason why Kiyoomi and you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship, why you hadn’t yet moved in together. It was often a topic of discussion and many times arguments. Your disagreement’s were never fully settled as you both always managed to run out of steam, knowing this was an issue that wouldn’t be quickly resolved.

You tried you hardest, watching his routine and replicating it as best as you could but it was still never enough for him. Despite all this, you loved and adored Kiyoomi and wanted nothing more than the spend the rest of your life with him.

One night, you were sitting on his couch while you watched a movie. He had been at practice all day and you had just gotten off of work. You spent most of you time at his place, knowing perfectly well that he preferred it. While it was inconvenient at times, you kept clothes and the essentials at his place to make mornings and weekends a little easier.

“They are redoing carpeting in the hallway this week,” Kiyoomi spoke as you looked at him. You knew he had been hoping management would upgrade for a while now so you were thrilled.

“I’m glad! I know you’ve wanted this for a while. You always complain about the stains and stuff so it’s good that they are finally taking notice,” you said as he hummed in agreement.

“Yeah but I’ll have to stay in a hotel for a few days because I won’t be able to have access to my apartment so that kind of sucks.”

You didn’t see this as an inconvenience but rather as an opportunity. You had been waiting to show Kiyoomi how you’ve improved your cleaning skills and you were certain that they were beyond up to his standards.

“You know, you could just stay with me?” You spoke as Kiyoomi looked at you, smiling and then chuckling. Confused, your brows furrowed as you waited for him to speak.

“No offense sweetie but I’ve seen your cleaning skills and I think I’ll take my chances at a hotel,” he laughed. You sat up, looking at him as he stared.

“Omi I’ve been working my butt off to keep my place clean. I do everything you asked and I’ve been keeping in mind the things you taught me,” you said as Kiyoomis face fell. He could tell you were serious.

“YN it’s ok. Cleaning isn’t everyone’s strong suit and it’s obviously not yours,” he replied as you stood up, offended by his words.

“I’m trying my hardest Kiyoomi! I come home, exhausted everyday and I clean. Then, instead of relaxing, I drive over here and spend my nights with you because I know you are more comfortable in your own environment!” You shout as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes m, standing up and walking past you.

“YN you are making a huge deal of this again, we’ve been over this!” He spoke going into the kitchen and plgrabbing his cleaning supplies. You knew he cleaned when he was stress, it wasn’t like his normal routine.

“Omi I’m not trying to-”

“YN just shut up ok?! Just shut up! It’s always something with you! This is always a fight and I’m sick of it! If you were half as good as Becca was at cleaning we’d already be living together!” He growled as you froze, you mouth falling slack as you body went cold. How could he? How could he bring her up? Of everything he could have said, how could he have stooped so low.

You straightened you back, tears filling your eyes as you heart began to crumble, “I’ll never be good enough for you will I Kiyoomi?” Turning on your heels, you grabbed your purse and shoes, walking out the front door.

Leaning on the counter, his anger began to grow, not at you but at himself. He couldn’t believe she had come to his mind, someone he hadn’t thought about in years. Becca had been his high school sweetheart, and he thought she was it. Unfortunately, schedules clashed and his life as a pro-volleyball superstar skyrocketed. He found less and less time for her and she had grown sick of it. Before he knew it, he had come home to an empty apartment, he spare key on the counter with a note that simply rid, “I fell out of love with you.” That was the last Tim he had seen or heard from her again. He figured she’d moved on, found someone who was worthy of her time.

The breakup had broken him in more ways than he carried to admit. He became more reclusive, pulling away from friends and family. He got in the habit of being alone, functioning without someone at his side. That all changed when he met you. You were gorgeous, funny and so outgoing. He immediately found himself attracted to you but he was scared, scare of his heart being broken again, scared he would lose something so precious.

You continued to peruse him, despite his desperate attempts to keep you away. He wanted to be with you, wanted to move on but his fear of being left alone was paralyzing. Finally, he relented and went on a date with you. Soon one turned into two and then three and then six. Your relationship happened effortlessly and he enjoyed every minute of it. He knew he loved you, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he was afraid to make that next step so he kept you at bay with his ridiculous cleaning demands. He knew they were outrageous and over the top but they protected him, they protected his heart.

He stood there, once again in silence as his breathe began to hitch. He had done it again, he had driven the person he lived away. His arms fell to his side as he reached for his phone. He pulled up your contact information and hit the dial button.

The phone rang and rang as you ignored it. You knew Kiyoomi was calling but you couldn’t bare speaking to him, you curled up in your freshly made bed as your tears overwhelmed you. The pain of her name imprinted on your brain as you sobbed.

Kiyoomi had told you about Becca, he had told you why she had left. You knew he was guarded and you were determined to do whatever you could to fix it. You hated how broken he was, how he felt he couldn’t trust anyone. It was a big reason as to why you worked your hardest to live up to his standards, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would let his guard down.

“You’re such an idiot Yn,” you cried as you covered your head up and sobbed deeply.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Atsumu answered as Kiyoomi stood in his kitchen, taking his hand down his face. He had messed up and in a bad way.

“I really fucked update with Yn Sumu. She left and I don’t think she’s coming back,” he murmured into the phone.

“What happened? Did she finally have enough of your bullshit demands?” Atsumu laughed as Kiyoomi sighed.

“We got into a fight because she wanted to me stay with her while my apartment was getting some work done. I thought she was joking but she wasn’t and I kind of threw Becca in her face.”

“You did what??? You asshole!” Atsumu shouted as Kiyoomi pulled the phone away from his ear, “I mean come on dude, YN has been dealing with your bullshit for almost a year now! She does everything you ask of her and all she wants is for you to see that. I think she’s more than shown you she can handle your ridiculous standards dude. Plus she’s probably the most patient woman I’ve ever seen. I mean, literally dealing with you is just as bad as emo Bokuto!”

Kiyoomi didn’t answer because he knew what Atsumu was saying was true. He knew his standards were high and that in a lot of ways, they were just a guard.

“You know she loves you right? She’s not going anywhere Omi. She chased you down for months and she’s stood by you for almost a year, she’s not leaving dude,” Atsumu spoke softly as a tear rolled down kiyoomi’s cheek.

“I think I need to talk to her,” he responded as he heard Atsumu mutter an “mmhmm” before hanging up. He grabbed his keys, locking up before making his way to your apartment.

You groaned as the knocking on your door became obsessive. You had absolutely no intention on answering the door in the state you were in but the person had continued to knock for well over 20 minutes.

With mascara running down your cheeks and you hair in disarray, you made your way to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.

You saw Kiyooni on the other side, looking visibly upset. Unlocking the door, you swung it open as the smell of cleaning products wafted, hitting his nose smack in the face.

“What do you want?” You growled as Kiyoomi stood there taking you in. You looked like you had been crying, no doubt because of him and his actions. Your face was flush and your hair a complete disaster. Still, you looked absolutely breathtaking to him.

“Can-can I come in?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his head as you turned and headed towards the living room.

“Take your shoes off at least,” you said as Kiyoomi looked around. Your apartment was immaculately kept, everything clean and in its place. Dare he say, it may have even been cleaner than his own place.

Having slipped his shoes off, he headed to the couch. You had sat in the arm chair, indicating you didn’t want to be close to him. He couldn’t really blame you for that.

“I can to apologize Yn. I’m really sorry for everything I said, for how hard I’ve been on you. Honestly, I don’t have an excuse at this point. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. I’ve set my standards and walls so high that I was sure you’d never reach them and every time you did, it kind of freaked me out. I was scared of losing you like I lost her. I was scared of how much I loved you and how much I came to need you in my life. I know you don’t have to forgive me and I don’t expect you too but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how much I really do love you.”

Tears fell as you listened to him speak. You knew he was guarded but this was a whole new level. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes met his, “I love you Kiyoomi and all I’ve ever tried to do was show you that. I know how important volleyball is to you and what happened with your ex but I’m not her. I’m not going to to fall out of love with you because your passionate about volleyball.”

Kiyoomi watched you as tears fell, he knew you were being sincere and that you cared for him. He stood up, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, “YN, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said those things and pushed you away. I’m sorry I ever gave you a chance or agreed to come stay with you. I shouldn’t have compared you to her. There is nothing to compare Yn, I love you so so much more than I ever loved her and I hope you can find it in your heart o forgive me.”

You smiled softly as you hand went to rest on his cheek, whiling a stray tear as it flowed down, “I forgive you Kiyoomi and I love you so much.”

Atsumu

Your relationship with Atsumu was an interesting one. When you first met him, you thought he was rather arrogant and annoying, not usually someone you’d date. However the more you got to know him, the more he grew on you, leading to your now 6 month long relationship. Sure it had its ups and downs but you were so in love with the un-toned blonde setter.

Atsumu and you both had extreme personalities, which was a double edged sword in your relationship. You both were extremely passionate and loving towards each other but when you fought, oh boy was it a show.

You didn’t fight a lot, usually only when things got serious or you got annoyed with his normal stupidity. You both had separate lives, somehow managing to cohesively combine them to fit each other.

Both being workaholics, you struggled sometimes to find time for each other. Atsumu was at the gym for long hours and you were at your office for equally as long but you always made weekly dates and kept your relationship fresh.

This week, it was your turn to plan your weekly date. Unfortunately for you, you’d been not only extremely run down at work but your period had just started and you weren’t feeling the best. You decided that it would be ok to keep it low key for one week since you usually always went all out. You’d order take out and watch a movie, it was simple but you knew the point of date was to spend time with your man.

When Sumu came home, he noticed you in your pajama’s chilling on the couch as you smiled at him. He looked at you, confused as to why you weren’t ready to go out. “Uh babe, we have date night tonight remember?” He said, removing his shoes and setting his bag down. He had been busy at the gym, exhausted from all the extra work he had been putting in. He was looking forward to going out, enjoying the town and spending time with his girl.

“I thought we could switch things up once! I was going to order take out and figured we could rent a movie,” you smiled as his face fell. You looked at him as he stared at you, wondering why his expression had all of a sudden turned sour

“Babe we always go out. I was looking forward to not being at home,” he complained as you stood up, walking over to him. You could tell he was growing agitated but maybe if you explained then he’d be ok.

“Sumu, I’m dead tired and my period came today-”

“Ok so take a midol or something! We can still go out Yn. You aren’t the only one on this relationship you know!?” he shouted as you reeled. What the actual fuck?

“Sumu what the hell?!? I planned a nice night in because I don’t feel well and you tell me to just take some pills and get over it?”

“It honestly sounds like you were just being lazy Yn. It’s not like it takes that much effort to make reservations or put a little makeup on. I mean you do it everyday for your coworkers so you should be able to do it for your boyfriend!” He shouted as you began growing angry.

“Well I’m fucking sorry for having a uterus Sumu! Heaven forbid I ever fucking inconvenience you with my bleeding and exhaustion but oh wait, I forgot, I’m not perfect like you!” You screamed back as he glared.

“You know, Layla never bothered me with shit like this Yn, she knew exactly what I wanted and she never argued with me!” He spat as you stared at him, mouth agape.

How fucking dare he bring her up? Layla, his perfect ex girlfriend who was a model and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He knew bringing up her was a low blow and he didn’t even care.

“Well then, why don’t you go back to Layla then if I’m such an inconvenience,” you murmured, standing your ground.

“Maybe I will!” He shouted, grabbing his gym bag, slipping his shoes on and walking out the front door.

It took a moment, just a minute to sink in before your whole world came crashing down. Your hands flew to your mouth as you began to shake, tears threatening to spill as you quickly turned and headed to the bedroom.

You cried as you grabbed your overnight bag and began throwing clothes in it. You couldn’t believe he had said that. How could he possibly stoop so low. Of all the people, why did it have to be her? Your chest stung as you leave with the bare minimum, throwing your purse over your shoulder and grabbing your keys as you frantically made your way to the front door.

You had to get out of here, you couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not surrounded by pictures of the two of you and definitely not as the afterburn of her name hit you. The thought of him seeking her out to comfort him chipped away at your heart, you couldn’t stomach the thought of Atsumu being with her again.

You turned, looking around one last time before leaving. The tears fell, gathering on your clothes and shoes. The heartbreak you were feeling immeasurable.

Groaning, Atsumu sat in his car thinking about the fight over and over again. He was pissed, fuming actually but surprising, it wasn’t at you. He only had himself to be angry at. He knew he overreacted, knew you didn’t deserve the shouting match he started.

He sighed, getting out of his car and knocking on his brothers door. Osamu answered, giving his twin a weird look.

“I thought tonight was date night?”

“YN and I had a fight,” he spoke as Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Of course you did,” he responded moving out of the way, “what happened in paradise now?”

“Well it was suppose to be date night and instead of planning a date, she decided it would be ok for us to just have takeout and watch a movie,” Atsumu reiterated as Samu stared at him.

“Ok and what’s wrong with that?”

“I wanted to go out but she said she wasn’t feeling good, her period or something. So I suggested she take midol-”

“Bro you didn’t?” Samu spoke, eyes widening as Atsumu stared at him.

“I mean, I guess it was kind of rude but dude I want to go out, I want to do stuff!”

“Ok but maybe Yn wasn’t feeling good. Date nights aren’t about going out, it’s about spending time together,” Samu replied.

“Yeah I guess so,” Atsumu said, thinking back to the conversation, “fuck I said something else too. Something kind of mean.”

Osamu looked at him as Atsumu raked his hands through his hair, “what did you say?”

“Fuck- I fuck! I compared her to Layla,” Sumu said, collapsing on his brothers couch.

“You compared Yn, sweet Yn, to that cunt? Dude she was such a fucking bitch and she cheated on you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Osamu shouted as Atsumu sat down, hands going straight to his hair.

“I know I know man! Fuck I was just so upset about not going out and I- I guess I overreacted.”

“You think? God Sumu you are so stupid! YN is literally the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you realize how fucking annoying you are to deal with? How much YN puts up with? Do you remember when you found out Layla was cheating? God you were the literal worst! Sakusa, heck even Meian, couldn’t handle you!” Atsumu’s hands went down to his knees as he contemplated everything he had been through.

Atsumu had been single for almost a year when he had first laid eyes on you. After Layla had cheated, he had stuck to mostly one night stands. While they weren’t in short supply, he missed the connection of having someone to care for and love.

The first time he saw you was at a bar, dressed in a skin tight outfit he couldn’t remove from his mind. His plans for you started out like all his other plans but immediately changed when you flatly turned him down. He’ll never forget the look you gave him and the giggle followed by the words, “not in your lifetime big guy.” Those words, the look you gave him were definitely what first attracted him to you and after chasing you for months, he finally wore you down enough for a date.

He was utterly broken after his ex had left, crushed by the weight of feeling not good enough. He didn’t want that to ever happen again which is why he kept all potential flings at a distance m, never bringing them to his apartment and never bothering to learn their names, but when you came into his life, that all changed. He learned that he could love again and that not all women were like Layla.

Atsumu stood up, walking to Osamu’s door and exiting. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to grovel at your feet, beg for forgiveness and pray that you’d find it in your amazing heart to forgive him.

Arriving at your shared apartment, he ran upstairs grabbing the door handle and pushing it, only it was locked. His eyes widened as he again pushed on the knob. Why was the door locked? Did you not expect him to come home tonight? The words hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Well then maybe you should go back to Layla!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Shit shit!” He whispered as he quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, pushing in as fast as he could. The apartment was dark and quiet, something he wasn’t use to.

“YN!! YN!! Baby where are you?!”

He searched the entire apartment, frantically looking for any sign of you. He stopped, his breathe hitching as his mind wandered to the worst.

“No no! Please tell me she didn’t!?” He yelled, running to the closet in your bedroom and throwing it open. The blood drained from his face and his eyes began to water as he slowly backed up. Your suitcase was gone, some of your clothes also.

Scrambling quickly, he ran to his phone on the counter and quickly found your number. “Come on baby, pick up!” He whispered.

“Hello?” You answered, somber in tone and sounding like you had been crying.

“Baby? Oh thank god! Where are you? I came home and you were gone, I was so worried!” He sighed, feeling a little relieved that you actually answered his call.

“Why don’t you go back to Layla? I’m sure she can console you!” You spat as Atsumu whinced. Ok, he deserved that, he definitely deserved that.

“Baby, listen I just want to talk ok? I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry Yn. I know I overreacted and I know my words don’t makeup for what I said but I love you Yn. You are the one I want, the one who helped me to trust again. Please Yn, baby come home,” Atsumu sobbed as you sighed.

“I’m sorry Sumu but I’m not going to come home tonight or for a while. What you said was so hurtful and low. You didn’t think of anyone but yourself Sumu. I told you I wasn’t feeling well, that I was exhausted and you told me to take some medicine and suck it up! Then on top of that, you threw her fucking name in my face! You don’t know how fucking much that shattered me Sumu,” you cried, sucking in a breath as Atsumu listened. He knew he fucked up but this was by far the worst he’d ever messed up.

“Princess please, I know- I know I’m a fucking asshole and I should have never ever brought her up, I was mad and I let me anger get the better of me. Just please, please can we talk about this?” He pleaded into the phone, tears running down his cheeks.

“I’ll talk to you later Sumu,” you sighed, hanging up as Atsumu collapsed to his knees, his body shaking as he tried to process everything. You were gone, really gone.

The next morning, your phone rang as you sighed, bracing for another phone call from Atsumu. You picked up the phone, looking at the caller id as your brows furrowed.

“Hello?” You said as Osamu’s voice filled the receiver.

“Hey Yn, uh I’m really sorry to bother you but Sakusa just called me, Atsumu didn’t show up for practice today. I can’t leave the restaurant right now or I’d go check on him but I was wondering if you were with him?”

You breathe stopped, your mind functioning of auto pilot as you raced from your hotel room to your car.

“YN is everything ok?” Osamu said sounding more panicked.

“I- I left Samu! I left him alone! Oh god, Samu I was so hurt by what he said! I got a hotel room and he called me last night. He told me how sorry he was and I told him I needed time! Oh my god what if something happened to him!”

You were sobbing as your tires squealed, your foot hitting the floor as you peeled out of the hotel parking lot. The tears rolled down your face as you heart sped up, your brain automatically going to the worst possible scenario.

“YN calm down ok? I’m sure he’s fine! Please don’t do anything irrational right now,” Sumu spoke, trying to calm you.

You couldn’t answer as you speed to your apartment, parking and throwing open the car door. You left Osamu shouting into your phone as you as you quickly raced to the door.

Ramming into your front door, you threw it open and we’re greeted with Atsumu standing there, staring at you.

“YN what the hell? Are you ok?” he said as you through your body into his, bracing as you sobbed into his chest.

“Osamu called me and said that you didn’t show up to practice! I thought about our conversation last night and oh god Sumu!” You cried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close and rubbing your back.

“Baby, hey it’s ok. I’m ok? I texted Meian and told him I needed a day off. I just couldn’t get you off my mind and the thought of even trying to push you out just hurt,” he said, hugging you tight as his eyes began to well with tears.

“Baby I’m so so fucking sorry! I can’t believe I was so selfish. I know I don’t deserve you but YN, I love you more than anything. You are it for me, the only thing I ever want.”

You pulled back, eyes softening as you quickly placed a kiss on Atsumu’s lips, “Sumu what you said was mean and hurtful and you are the biggest jerk ever but I love you so much and the thought of losing you well, it crushed me more than anything.”

“I promise Yn, I’ll be better for you,” he smiled, leaning down and taking your lips once again.

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oh-katsuki · 3 months

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i love putting characters through hurt and im thinking right now about the "one that got away" trope, particularly in the context of the katy perry song....

katsuki sitting alone in his kitchen. it's well lit, beautiful really. everything a successful pro-hero could ever hope to have, but he can't help but think about the person he'd originally intended to share it with.

all those years ago on his shitty couch in his shitty apartment, you tucked under his arm with a glass of shitty chardonnay that sloshes every time you laugh with your belly. fantasizing about having the type of open living room that would let you see into the kitchen. about an archway with crown-molding, peering into a warmly lit kitchen. no more renting. talking with you about the type of furniture you'd fill the space with. warm dark wood, an antique dining table, bookshelves and not needing to worry about just how much space they take up.

he can't help but think about how he'd decorated it the way you'd talked about. it was unconsciously done, of course and he only really notices it on late nights like these. when he's alone with a cup of steaming tea and takes a moment to remember where he is. katsuki can't help but feel that you'd like the way he decorated his house. like somehow, on some level, he'd done it for you.

of course, that was years ago. 10 maybe? yeah, 10 sounds right. it may be longer, but if it is, katsuki doesn't really want to think about it. just more wasted time.

he tries to be positive about it, about his good standing in life. fame, wealth, power even. he tries to be grateful for the blessings, for the job he loves, the home he finds beautiful, the friends who pulled him out when you left. katsuki tries to move on, to continue forward. but nights like these make the wound fresh. they cut him open a little bit.

it could have been really good, he thinks. if he'd been a little smarter or a little wiser. if he'd ponied up his courage to... be more. pride's a bitch though and it really only leaves you when what matters most already has. but it could have been good. this house could have been good. you could have sat with him, worried about him. he could have taken care of you.

there have been other people. katsuki has tried, he really has. but he's still a bit too stubborn. it only gets worse with age. everyone has a little bit of you in them. something that reminds him of the way things could have been. snippets of someone too far away to reach. yeah, they all have a little bit of you, but they're not you. that's where katuski thinks he's gone wrong.

he has people that never really leave him. that's just who he is. you're one of them, he supposes. in another life, you wouldn't be the one that got away. he'd look in the mirror at his premature gray hairs and instead of being alone, you'd come up next to him and tell him that you've always liked a silver fox. yeah, that sounds about right, like something you would say.

you're probably married now. katsuki can't really bring himself to check, doesn't really want to. no point in mulling it over, he thinks. his tea's getting cold.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #sorry about this #idk what came over me... don't shoot the messenger bro this came from god #i have a happy ending formulating in my brain though #running into each other later in life #mid to late 40s i wanna say #in the station or something #reconnecting.. catching up.... yeah #tw: angst #tw: breakups

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satoshy12 · 3 months

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Dc x DP

in the Danny, as Damian, had twin idea.

Most make that he was sent away to protect him from the League or Ra.

Did you not all think the protection was from Damian? and not Ra or similar. Like, I could see Damian before Robin tried to kill Danny to be true Heir or similar.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp #dc #dc comics #dp + dc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcau #batman #Damian Wayne #Ra's al Ghul #damian al ghul #doesn't this make not more sense??#Damian wants to be only heir #I could see Talia killing of other children Bruce had around the World too #Wanting to be only mother of the child of Bruce #TW: angst

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 10 months

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Danny, tired of being the absolute last priority in his friends and families lives, runs away after a major fight with one of them which causes him to realize all his living relationships are toxic.

Danny lands in a new world and decides to get a new parent or parents. How? Not through the foster system of course but through admittedly more sinister means. He picked someone he liked and altered the memories of them and thier loved ones to convince them that this kid was always thier son and created false legal paperwork and school records along with implanting memories into his new classmates. He even went so far let the person give him a new name so it would be more believable and it would be one less connection to his past.

The only problem is one (1) Jason Todd, who is appearently immune to his mind tricks. Jason only managed to get Tim to see the truth by pointing out Danny isnt mentioned anywhere in the batcomputer and things start falling apart from there.

Danny just wants someone to love him :(

#dpxdc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #tim drake #jason todd #i was thinking Dick would be th e father Danny chose #danny doesnt know about them being bats #red robin #red hood #dp #dc #angst #tw: angst #sorry

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pileofmush · 7 months

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the sun still rises ☼

pairing ➸ monkey d. luffy x fem!reader

synopsis ➸ luffy catches something in the water. it's a girl, to his dismay. not a fish.

details ➸ tags: pt. i, angst, introspection // cw: very much a vent fic, near-death experience, struggles with mental health, i gave reader a name bc i can, an attempt at prose // wc: 1.4k // series m.list

Water crashes against a rocky shore. It whispers; it sings. Rising and rolling, the water recedes; it warns.

A thud. Feeble knees collapse into wet sand. Salt lingers on your tongue, though you’ve scrubbed your mouth three times now. You choke on the grains still lodged in your throat. Blink the sand out of your eyes.

Alive. You’re alive, you think to yourself. Your cruddy boat is gone, washed away somewhere. But you remain—alive. And the sun still rises and the world still spins.

Not that the world would have stopped spinning had you died. Not when death makes the world go round. Still, the sun rises. Still, the ocean’s tide sings. The tide drapes over you, blocking out the sky. Perhaps you should have fled, when you had the chance. But you didn’t-- you don't, and the wave crashes over you as consequence. You are moved. Moved by the wave; moved by the weight of your circumstances. No one prepared you for this. Your mother didn’t dole out this particular lesson in her long spiels about the meaning of life. And now, she will never speak again.

Mother leapt.

Mother crashed.

Like waves against a rocky shore.

If only you could take on the attributes of the sea. The sea knows no god. She does what she wishes. But you? You bend. Bend to the will of those who want harder than you. Bend to the magnificent wave’s power as it drags you back, back into the godless sea. You are nothing, in comparison. Flotsam.

You don’t want. But there are things that you don’t want.

For instance: you don’t want to return to your mother.

Oh, you thought that you did. You thought a lot of things. You once thought your mother believed in the hollow words she said. She didn’t. You once thought dying would be easy.

It isn’t.

Dying burns. Like the burning in your lungs. It takes, and it consumes, until there is nothing left of you but a mound of ash.

And, dying squeezes. Squeezes you out like a dirty dish rag, until out spills every morsel of fear, frustration, desire and hope that once existed inside your fleshy body. And, there you are. Your essence, pooled into the ocean for all to see. And in your last few moments, you are left to wonder, perhaps I did exist; perhaps I should have lived.

You inhale. You don’t want to die. There has to be more to life than drowning in the waters of a strange island, strange ocean, stranger world. Saltwater fills your lungs as you begin to mourn the life you never lived.

Dying, you find, is a color. A deep, solemn purple. The color of a fresh bruise; the color of your mother’s wine; the color of regret.

Cupped hands cut through water, frantic, as you try to rise; as your head spins. Above the waterline, above your flailing body, the wind howls. It warned you, you know. The ocean warned you. And now the wind howls, though the wail doesn’t quite reach your ears. Not over the deep blue croon of the ocean, and your own pained gurgles.

You can’t think, any longer. Only feel.

Feel your fingertips just barely breach the surface. Feel your legs kick with a renewed sense of urgency. Feel the sudden intake of air—sweet, glorious air rushing through your body—almost too much, but not even close to being enough. Feel the hands that wrap around your torso like a lasso, firm and sort of rubbery. Feel your body fling through the air, and your stomach lurch, before you collide into a person.

It knocks the breath out your lungs, and you choke, for a second time.

The same hand that deftly plucked you out the ocean whacks your back, while the other keeps you upright. You would wave your savior off if you had the energy. You possess no devil powers—you dare not make a foe of nature itself—yet the ocean saps your strength, anyway. Takes what little you have left to claim, like she took away your mother.

You’ve yet to open your eyes, but you can reason you’re on a ship. You can hear the calls of a woman over the song of the wailing sea, preparing the ship for docking in the middle of a thrashing storm. You hear the grunts of men, and the flapping of wind-beaten sails, and the stamping of several feet, scurrying across a wooden deck.

When you’re finally done hacking your lungs, the savior makes to set you down. Your knees buckle.

“Woah there,” you hear them exclaim, then let out a boyish laugh. The stranger hoists you up by your arm pits, like you’re a drenched cat. “You’re not a fish!”

This is true.

You blink the water out of your eyes. In front of you: a boy. Just a boy with a wide, proud grin, and a curved scar underneath his eye. A yellow straw hat hangs from his neck.

You cough up water as a greeting.

You know of this strange, savior boy. He belongs on fading, brown parchment above big, bold letters—Wanted; Dead or Alive—his toothy grin immortalized on the bulletin board outside the pub back home. But he isn’t just any old criminal. No, this boy is far worse. For he looks at the expansive blue sea—godless, boundless—and has the gumption to declare it his playing field.

He looks at what the world has to offer him with wide, peering eyes, and yet, he is still not satisfied. Surely, the world has more to give. Surely, it has more to take. That’s what he does, and it’s what he will continue to do: take and take until he’s had his fill.

He’s a pirate, after all.

The boy sets you down on the deck and you are finally centered—reunited, at last, with the ground. He’s kind of awkward looking: gangly and disheveled and bright, but his carefree countenance wraps it altogether and ties it in a messy red bow. He tilts his head at a 90 degree angle and stares at you point-blank, thin black brows furrowed in confusion.

“If you’re not a fish, what’re ya doing in the middle of the ocean?” he asks bluntly. Like you could help getting swept up in the current of Mother Nature. Like his crew mates aren’t currently scrambling to safely dock this ship.

Your voice sounds strangled when you speak, words getting caught in your throat and roughly tumbling out of your mouth. “Drowning. I was drowning,” you manage to say.

The rocking of the ship you’re on is not kind to you. Hunched over, your hands brace against your knees as you huff. Your fingers are pruned grapes, wrinkled and trembling.

“That’s dumb,” the boy tells you. “Just swim next time.”

Maybe he has a point.

You look to the sky. It’s a deep, foreboding gray, pregnant dark clouds looming above and promising rain. Somewhere, you register, behind the clouds… is the sun. It’ll set, yes, and plunge the realm into night, but by dawn it will rise again. And the world will spin.

“Who’re you then, if you’re not a fish?” The boy draws you back to him, demanding your attention. His eyes are dark as coal, round with open curiosity. You burn under his gaze; greedy and intense.

Your back straightens. “I’m Yuna.”

“Like Tuna?” he questions.

“Just Yuna.”

He accepts your answer with a swift jerk of his head and a slight pout. In the distance, you can hear the woman from before calling the the ship to anchor. One of the men—this one has a slender frame and long, long legs—leaves the helm and drops an anchor to the ocean floor.

Your gaze flickers back to the boy who saved your life. “I’m Luffy! Monkey D. Luffy,” he introduces himself, then reaches for his straw hat to place atop his head. A red ribbon wraps around the base.

Things make sense when the hat is on, you think to yourself. He makes sense.

“Remember that,” he demands and jabs a thumb towards his chest, something like passion lighting his coal eyes aflame. “You’re talkin’ to the future king of the pirates.”

As if the heavens already bow to him, this future king, it begins to rain. He pulls off his hat and looks up. Water droplets kiss tawny skin. They roll from his cheeks, to his chin, down the curve of his neck.

Rain, your mother liked to say, is good luck. Fathers renewal. Change.

You hope she’s right.

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #monkey d. luffy #one piece #m.monkey d. luffy #m.luffy #m.one piece #tw: angst #battle scarred;

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residentfromnowhere · 5 months

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| CLICKED |

ModernAU!SanemiShinaguzawaXAFABReader

TW: Narcissism, Angst, Gaslighting & Unresolved Issues/Ending

“You’re not even looking at me right now.”

“Is there a reason too?” You say quietly.

“What do you mean? Is there a reason NOT to?”

You pause, eyes still glued to your fingers. It’s been two hours since dinner and you’re still upset about what he said during it. See, you would have brushed it off and called him an asshole but the fact he went a step further and semi play flirted with the waitress further angered you this making you no longer want to look or speak to him. The fact that he even asked that angered you more.

You shrug and then grab your phone out of your purse, not keen on having to explain yourself or what he did to him. If he doesn’t know why you’re acting this way, then that’s not your problem. You’re done explaining what and why whatever he does is wrong and choose to instead do something you’ve never done before, stop talking and looking at him.

You have been dating Sanemi Shinaguzawa for a couple of years and it wasn’t always sunflowers and sunshine but you tried to look past that because you really did love him but with the things he would say and the supposed “jokes” he would make concerning your looks, your personality and family, you started to reconsider if he even liked you let alone loved you back. Arguments were worse and the thing he would say would make you think he has cheated on you, which later he would get upset because he would claim he would never actually do that to you.

“Are you serious right now, y/n? I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re not even looking at me.” He says in annoyance. “Just tell me what’s wrong so we can get this over with and finish enjoying our night because this is getting annoying.” Your fingers suddenly stop and he notices your once neutral expression change to shock then anger. He hit a nerve and he hit it hard.

Annoying? You? Being annoying? Your feelings in which he clearly hurt when he straight up disrespected you by comparing you to her and flirted with her while jokingly putting you down annoys him? You gulp and you can feel the tears starting to form in the crevices of your eyes. You’ve done a great job holding them back but something just snapped.

The nerve to say such things when he was the one to hurt you. The one to say after fully checking the waitress out “man, you used to look that hot. Wonder what happened” and then laugh and look at you expecting you to agree. Your heart shattered in that moment and the smile you once had was wiped from your face. The food came shortly after and not another word was spoken. He would keep trying to have a conversation with you just for his words to fall to deaf ears. Your body was there but you were removed entirely which now brings you to this moment.

“How about you ask that girl what’s wrong with me since you’ve run out of things to put on your list. Maybe she can help you find out.”

You didn’t have to look up to know his face dropped completely and you didn’t have to look up to know what he was thinking. He was going back to two hours ago and trying to find a way to possibly gaslight you into thinking you were too sensitive just like he always did. You hear him scoff and lean back, as though he couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. It pissed him off to no end that you were still hung up on earlier and without hesitation says, “Are you serious? You’re still mad about that? It was a joke for fuck sakes! God, if I knew you were this sensitive in the beginning, I would have went for your friend instead.”

You quickly look up at him and your mouth slightly opens, disbelief all over your face before quickly looking back down. Your face is numb now and Then something hit you, like some type of epiphany. This isn’t the first time he’s embarrassed and put you done like this, it’s just that this was in public and with this and memories of past arguments flooding back, you finally realize that this isn’t who you wanted to be with nor marry.

To realize the person you once considered your soulmate and friend was really the worst person for you and enjoys hurting you brings you relief but shatters you. Have you really been that blind? Rose colored glasses masking narcissist behaviors as love? It was all too much for you and it finally clicked. The words, the comments, the shaming in private and acting lovey dovey in public, all of it finally clicked.

Before he could come up with something to say, your intrusive thoughts take over and what you say next will to you finally open your eyes to how toxic your relationship is and free you and completely ruin his world. Finally making eye contact with him you say,

“Let’s break up”

#nowhere’s library 📚#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #sanemi shinaguzawa #sanemi headcanons #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer sanemi #sanemi angst #tw: angst #kny angst #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kimetsu no yaiba sanemi #sanemi x y/n #sanemi x you

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arminsumi · 6 months

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THE SPRING I MET YOU

GOJO さとる

He hates spring because of "allergies"; he blames his sniffly nose and red eyes on the season.

Warnings : angst (heartbreak)

Playme : First Love/Late Spring

SPRING 2006

You had met Gojo Satoru through a common friend — Geto Suguru.

Oh how many times had you heard him say, like a broken record;

"You really have to meet this guy, you're gonna click with him I just know it. You're like the same person."

You're like the same person.

Suguru'd nag you to meet Satoru ever since he entered Jujutsu High, because he thought he was... you know, just the kinda guy you'd fall in love with. And he hated to see you moping around, lonely and hopelessly seeking a lover that was certainly not "coming to you on a summer breeze" like your mother insisted.

So you met Satoru, by Suguru's demand.

And your first impression of him was: oh no; he's an idiot.

A loud-mouthed, obnoxious idiot. Inappropriate. Overconfident. Irresponsible.

And his first impression of you was: eh, she's too shy.

A put-together, attractive woman. Too proper. Too shy. Too responsible.

If you and him were words, then you were antonyms to each other.

But that didn't matter, it was just the peripheral view you had of each other; something still drew you into each other. Like the universe was drawing up a constellation especially for you and him.

What did you have in common? Nothing. What did you like about his personality? Nothing. But Satoru was always nobody but himself and you liked that. That's the thing about him that saved you from viewing him as an unworthy madman.

And you? He thought you were always trying too hard to be somebody else, someone you were not, someone you could never be — and he wanted to change that. To see what was beneath the diffidence, beneath the plastic sheet that you covered over the image of your self.

He wanted to provoke you more than anyone else, not for the purpose of eliciting a cheap reaction and feeling fleeting amusement, but because he wanted to get you out of your shell.

His heart was on his sleeve, and yours was wrapped up in winter layers even though it was a warm spring. Satoru peeled off the layers one by one, until finally he found his gold; your sweet, tender, loving heart. And once he found it he grabbed it in a way that showed he intended for no one else to steal it from him; his love, all his.

It was just beautiful from then on. You and him. Satoru and you. The two stars in the constellation that the universe specifically designed just for you and him. Only you and him.

How did the first date happen? It just happened. How did the first kiss happen? It just happened. How did the first slow dance happen? It just happened. How did the boyfriend girlfriend thing happen? It just happened.

Everything between you and him always just happened. Like Tetris blocks falling perfectly into place. Like puzzle pieces perfectly connecting. Like clockwork.

No friction, no tediousness, no miscommunication between your stars. You and him shared your minds, bodies and souls with each other.

Like you were the same person.

SPRING 2009

Satoru's face trembled and nose reddened as tiny tears rolled out of his eyes.

This was the first time he had cried in three years. And it was a first for having an emotional breakdown in public, in the middle of a busy train station.

"Satoru, I'm sorry." you said to him. "I have to start my life."

"But we've already started a life here, together!" he yelled with a broken voice, in the middle of that busy train station. People looked.

It was Spring of 2009; you were breaking up with a 20 yr old Gojo Satoru as sensibly and sensitively as you could, but he still acted like a child.

When you and him had gotten together in 2006, both of you were just simple-minded, carefree teenagers who had yet to be shaped by the hurt of life.

Oh him and his prismatic feelings, they spill out the edge at the right angle and show a display of everything you never thought he felt.

"Things have changed. I've changed, and so have you. We have to move on from each other." you said, and he shook his head and looked at you like he was falling to pieces.

"I haven't changed! I'm still your boy. C-can't we talk about this at the cafe—

"—Satoru, my train is here."

SPRING 2018

"—Sensei, the train is here!"

He was interrupted back then just like he's been interrupted now from his daydream of you.

"What's the matter?"

Gojo-sensei's blindfold soaks up his tears, but it can't muffle his sniffling or reddened cheeks and ears. His nose wrinkles up and wiggles to the side as he sniffles and runs the back of his hand under his nostrils.

"Allergies. This is why I hate spring." he chuckles.

"Aw, get allergy medicine."

"Yeah yeah, I will. You rascals catch your train before it runs off without you." Gojo

「じゃあ！」 Yuji raises a hand of goodbye to his teacher and boards the train with Megumi and Nobara.

He waves goodbye to his students, lifting his blindfold to catch a peek before the train carries them out of sight. His smile drops when they can no longer see him at all.

He stares for a long moment at the place where you once stood, and remembers two memories;

One late spring you were on your tip-toes kisssing him for the first time.

And one late spring you were waiting for your train, breaking his heart with goodbye.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#tw: angst #angst #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo angst #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x fem reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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loaflovesdoodling · 9 months

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It's done, people.

"I saw you come to this world, pesky knight. I RAISED you. I am your true father, unlike that 'Aeon' weakling.

You belong to me, Meta Knight."

A traumatized borb with daddy issues </3

[you might notice his heart skipping a beat or two if you pay close attention to the audio.]

On another note, here are some cut out sketches under cut (see what I did there??)

TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD/SCOPOPHOBIA!!

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in-love-with-writing-whump · 3 months

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"Whumpee asked for you specifically, A. I'll let you in to see them," Whumpee's medic and lover, Caretaker, said.

A couldn’t believe it. Whumpee wanted to see them? Before their best friend, B? After they sacrificed themself and were tortured by Whumper for months because of them?

They followed Caretaker, refusing to let them down, even as their face burned with shame, guilt gnawing at their insides.

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

Leader Whumpee sat in the wheelchair, whiteboard sitting across their blanketed lap as Caretaker opened the door for A, the younger, sibling-like member of Team. A's breath hitched, eyes widening.

"They’re okay, A," Caretaker assured them. "Their throat is still healing, and they're still weak, but they're going to be okay."

A nodded, Caretaker letting out a deep breath. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to give the two of you some privacy. I have some things to attend to." The door shut behind them, leaving A standing before Whumpee, unable to meet their eyes at the sight of matching wounds from Whumper.

Whumpee's eyes burned with the shame of being unable to even give A a hug, or tell them that none of this was their fault. They attempted a smile, scribbling on their board.

"I missed you."

A's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee," they whispered, hands curling into fists.

Whumpee shook their head vigorously, scribbling big letters on the board before tapping it when their marker. A looked up, hiccuping when they saw the message.

"It’s not your fault. They would've just killed you and taken me anyways. It's not your fault."

As A sank to their knees, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee in a hug, holding back tears as they pressed their face into the blanket.

#whump prompt #whumpee #tw: trauma #caretaker #tw: angst #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: captivity #tw: throat whump #tw: implied strangulation #tw: muscle atrophy #tw: crying #tw: guilt #found family #team whump #whumper

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m-ayo-o · 2 months

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NSFW 𓆩♱𓆪 DARK CONTENT

since some of u were curious... here's a few writers/fics i appreciate in the dark content category. many more to be added! warnings on individual fics. most around the 4/5k wc. if u don't like the descriptions don't keep reading.

if anybody wants me to remove their mention or fic please lmk!

megumi

@cursedwriter -> no smut. no comfort. all hurt. heartbreaking.

@duskamethyst -> college au. best friend. manipulation.

@yanderenightmare -> big megumi! < .5k thirst (in love w the description)

nanami fics with annoying/chatty readers

@iwaasfairy -> he's a complete psycho! (murder)

[deactivated account] -> he's not quite a psycho.

gross dad toji stuff

@sutorus -> vanilla vodka. forceful oral.

@chocochipsushi -> full on INCEST. 7k

-> ?/ there was also this toji fic that was ~ 10k+ words - he was an intruder in a rich girl's mansion and he wore a balaclava the whole time /

gojo being a total sweetheart and behaving (for once)

@utahimeow -> cocky husband. bondage. 6k

-> ?/ also looking for a fairly long satoru fic - reader is an assistant to him, they end up fooling around in a swimming pool at a fancy business meeting or smth /

in the dark content spirit, here is my dark smut fic ft. 21+ megumi + toji

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awkward-tension-art · 3 months

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Catatonia

Leon x gn!reader

Warnings: Trauma, depressive catatonia, crying, hurt/comfort, panic attack, post-raccoon city, Leon needs a hug, reader-insert, gender neutral pronouns but lmk if I slipped up anywhere, reader being supportive and taking care of Leon

Everything I know about catatonia is based on my own research and my undergrad psyc degree, so chances it may not be accurate. Enjoy the sadness!

You had no idea what happened.

Leon was supposed to go to Raccoon City and begin his first day as a cop. He would be ahead of you for a couple of months while you finished your semester. You were supposed to transfer to Raccoon University.

But then Raccoon City collapsed. The president bombed the city and everyone in it. 100,000 souls, wiped off the face of the earth.

For a day you thought you lost your boyfriend. Your grief was overwhelming, assuming he had died. Only to get a call from the military, confirming his survival, along with a little girl named Sherry.

Once you reunited, you brought him back home. Sherry, taken to a hospital for testing and recovery from…some type of infection.

Leon looked like hell. He was covered in grime, sweat and blood. The RPD uniform he wore was ripped and ragged. And his shoulder…filthy bandages were wrapped around his shoulder.

Worse of all, his eyes…his beautiful baby blue eyes were empty. Distant. Traumatized.

He seemed entirely dazed. Confused even. Unaware of his surroundings.

“Come on,” you whispered, leading him from the entrance of your small apartment to your shared bedroom.

Your upstairs neighbors must’ve dropped something, because you heard a muffled thump. Leon, in response, jumped. His hand shot to Matilda, grabbing the gun tightly.

“Leon, it's ok.” You spoke softly, your hand reached for the gun, putting your palm on the top of the barrel, “It’s ok…you're safe.” Matilda was trembling in his grip. He didn’t speak, as you took the pistol from his shaking hands. You clicked the safety, took out the mag and emptied the chamber.

Your eyes roamed his face. Jesus christ, he looked terrified.

Your boyfriend was traumatized. PTSD, you theorized. But without a professional, you couldn’t be certain.

“Come on,” You put Matilda down on the counter and slowly led Leon to your bedroom. Once inside the room, you sat him down on the bed. You didn’t care about the stains on the sheets; they could be washed or replaced.

“Leon.” you knelt, having him look down at you, “I’m gonna remove the…armor, ok?” You weren’t entirely sure what Leon was wearing on his body. Was it some type of specialized riot gear?

You received a small nod.

“Ok…I’m gonna start at the chest.” You had to warn him of everything you did. Any wrong move and Leon might jump. You didn’t want to scare him.

Your hands went to his side. You had to move his arm, which allowed you to lift the velcro. With the sound of the usual tearing, you freed one side. You did the same for the other, being careful of his injured shoulder. Once the armor was open, you slowly and carefully lifted the chestpiece over his head.

Leon was still silent. His eyes were still distant and unseeing.

Your fingers went to his belts. This felt…you were afraid of violating your boyfriend. “I’m gonna get your belt off ok?” You remained kneeling, “Can I, Leon?” Was he even in the right mind to consent to undressing?

He wasn’t speaking, mind entirely somewhere else.

“Ok…Listen, I’m going to get your belt off, then the rest of your clothes, ok?” You explained softly everything you planned to do. “Then, I’m going to turn on the shower, and get you washed up.”

No response either.

You were running out of ideas. Your hands went over his, “Leon…If you understand me, please squeeze my hand.” You hoped and prayed he could do that much at least. Your eyes met his, silently begging him to react to…something.

His fingers twitched. Good.

You smiled ever so slightly, “Alright…Here…” carefully, you put his gloved hand on your shoulder, “If you want me to stop, you squeeze my shoulder, ok?” It was a way for him to communicate without speaking.

Your movements were slow and clear as you removed his belt. It was surprisingly heavy, weighed down by the hip pouches attached to it. Jesus, what did he carry? There was a knife sheath wrapped around his leg. The moment you touched it, Leon’s hand shot to the handle.

“Woah, it's alright.” You pulled back, giving him space, “Leon, it's ok. You're safe.” your tone was quiet and reassuring, “It’s you and me right now. It's just you and me.”

Slowly, his grip loosened and he let the knife go. His eyes stared at you, through you. Your boyfriend wasn’t seeing you anymore.

Carefully, you removed the sheath and its straps. Pulling the other smaller armor pieces off was easy enough. However, your hand grazed his shoulder, causing him to flinch. At first you assumed it was a bruise or type of scratch, yet you were still careful getting his shirt off and peeling off the dirty bandages.

It was worse. Much much worse.

A gunshot. Jagged, circular, and surrounded by dark spidery veins. Your boyfriend had been shot!?

“Oh my god…” You breathed, “Leon…” Checking his shoulder, you realized the bullet had gone through completely. “Has anyone seen you for this? A doctor?”

He didn’t answer you.

“Ok…” You sighed, calming yourself, “I’m gonna turn on the shower.” Your steps were quiet but hurried as you got to the bathroom. Your thoughts were racing as you turned the water on, setting it around the temperature you knew Leon liked.

Your boyfriend had survived something awful in a city that’s been bombed. He’d been shot. Taken in by the military. Returned to you traumatized and quiet.

You returned to his side, kneeling down and looking into his eyes. “Let's get you cleaned up, ok?” The both of you were silent as you got Leon to his feet and to the bathroom. Once inside, you put his hand on your shoulder again as you pulled off his filthy pants and boxers. You did your best to not react to the smell.

Christ. Did he run through a sewer ?

You tried not to ponder, leading your boyfriend into the shower. He grimaced once the warm water began to hit his skin.

This stupor he was trapped in scared you. He most likely wasn’t in control. Was he at least aware of the world around him? You didn’t know enough about catatonia. He needed a professional. A doctor. You’d take him to the ER after the shower.

The water around your feet had turned brown from the grime on Leon’s body. It slipped down the drain in a continuous stream as you grabbed some body wash and began to scrub his skin. Tonight, you’d use your shampoo, conditioner and soft loofah. If your boyfriend was in the right state of mind, he’d deny loving the vanilla and lavender smell you preferred for your soaps. But he wasn’t, and you used them anyway.

You grabbed your shampoo and squeezed out more than the ‘recommended quarter size’. Reaching up, you ran your soapy hand through his hair before scrubbing your fingers into the strands. Leon grimaced again when you began to massage the sweet smelling soap into his hair and scalp.

“I’m sorry, I don't mean to be rough.” You murmured, washing his hair as much as you could. With only one wash, you weren't satisfied. Neither would your boyfriend. You tilted his head back and poured more shampoo directly onto his head. You scrubbed again, being more gentle this time.

One more wash later and you could tell his hair returned to its natural blonde.

Hopefully…

Next battle was his skin. You started at his neck, being as careful as you could as you scrubbed. there was a slight flinch when you touched his neck, causing you to back off. Leaving that area of his body alone, you moved on.

You were as careful as you could be with his shoulders and arms, especially around the bullet wound. Leon grimaced again when you began to clean his hands. His empty eyes stared ahead as you worked to clean under his fingernails.

Thank god you had a nail cleaning kit. It came in handy as you cleaned as much as you could. It felt like you spent a good 10 minutes on each fingernail, removing grime, mud and…blood.

Once done, the bottle of body wash you used was empty. You mentally thanked yourself for picking up a new bottle just a few days before Leon left. Popping the tab open, you got to work on his chest and back.

He’d been stock still the entire shower. Even when you began to wash his legs and feet, he didn’t react. Normally he’d try and pull away, complaining of being ticklish. But tonight? Nothing was causing any sort of reaction.

By the time you felt your boyfriend was clean and the water streaming down the drain was clear, the shower had run cold.

Leon wasn’t even shivering.

“Come on…” Your words were soft as you turned the handle, shutting off the water. “Let’s get you dried and dressed.”

Lean remained unresponsive as you pulled him out. You wrapped a towel around his waist as you took another and began to dry his face and hair. From there, you dried the rest of his body. The towels were blessedly clean and unstained when you pulled them off. Good, you managed to get off all of the unknown gunk that had clung to his form an hour ago.

“Leon,” He was entirely lost to you. You weren’t even sure if he could hear you, “I don’t know what happened, but I’m here for you, ok?” Gently, you stroked his cheek, looking into his unfocused and dazed eyes.

Catatonia. Completely.

Once you managed to get him dressed, you got him sitting on the couch to rest a bit more. You stripped the comforter off the bed and threw it into the washer along with the towels. They’d run while you take your boyfriend to the ER.

It was late now. A little past 3AM by the time you got in. The intake nurse was kind and understanding, taking you and your boyfriend to a bed after a 30 minute wait.

Honestly, the ER was a blur. You held his hand while he sat on the bed. Some tests were run. You were asked questions. his bullet wound was tended to properly. You signed some paperwork, and by 4:45 in the morning, Leon was confirmed to be in a depressive catatonic state and treated with lorazepam.

An hour later you were sent home with a prescription once the IV was finished.

Once inside, you led him back to your bathroom to wash his face and prepare for bed. He needed sleep. You did too.

But a part of you wanted to remain awake in case he needed something. Leon’s stupor was terrifying. What if the treatment didn’t work? The doctor mentioned ECT…

No . it was too early. It had only been a few hours since he was given the medication.

You got your boyfriend to lay down. He was on his side as you knelt next to him, knees on the carpet next to the bed. Your hand pet his hair, trying to give some sort of comfort to him. “Leon…” You whispered, “I don’t know if you can hear me, but…I'm right here.” You sounded like a broken record at this point, “I love you and I’m gonna stay right here to help you.”

At some point, when you noticed the sun coming up, you joined Leon on the bed. Your arms wrapped around him, his back to your chest, holding his hands in your own. You drifted off, somewhere between awake and asleep. You don’t know how long you remained like that.

A strangled cry rammed you out of your state. You sat up, looking around in a panicked rush. Your eyes landed on your boyfriend, sitting against the wall, gripping his hair. He was hyperventilating, letting out a choked sob. His blue eyes were wide, staring at nothing.

“Leon! Leon, it's alright.” You shot out to him, kneeling in front of his face, “Shhh, look at me, ok? It's ok. Everything is alright, Leon.” You didn’t want to scare him or panic him, but all you wanted to do was hold him.

He sobbed, closing in on himself and shutting down.

Shit. Shit!

“Leon, Leon, please…” Your words were failing. He wasn’t hearing you. Not entirely, “Leon shhh, you're safe. It's over. You’re home.”

Stupidly, you took a chance. Very, very slowly, you raised one hand to his cheek. Something clicked in his mind feeling your touch. His terrified eyes flicked up to you. It took a few moments for him to fully register that it was you in front of him.

His lips trembled. You barely made out your name in his quiet and cracked voice.

“Can I hold you?” you asked tenderly. his consent mattered. He was extremely vulnerable. You refused to add to his fear and panic.

Your boyfriend nodded slowly.

In response, you adjusted your position and wrapped your arms around him. “Shhhh…” you hushed Leon as his shoulders shook with more weeping, “Shhhh, it's alright. It's alright…” You unconsciously began to rock back and forth slightly.

You didn’t know what Leon had survived. You didn’t know what he went through. But dammit …as you heard his cries and sobs, you swore you’d be there to help him through the aftermath.

#reader insert #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #re2 x reader #re2 leon #tw: angst #tw: trauma #tw: catatonia #my writing

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