#Cemetery Without Crosses
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sacredwhores · 7 days ago
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Robert Hossein - Cemetery Without Crosses (1969)
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almeriamovies · 2 years ago
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“Cemetery Without Crosses“ AKA Une Corde, Un Colt… by  Robert Hossein (1969) Movie set in Dunas de Cabo de Gata #Almeria
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writerswho · 2 years ago
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Florist and tattoo artist au, where Wednesday works in her family flower shop and Enid just started working in the tattoo studio next door. 
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pastlivesandpurplepuppets · 3 months ago
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The first time I saw Skip Muck’s grave at the Luxembourg American Cemetery and Memorial, I just stood there and felt numb. I was with Dick Winters and Carwood Lipton, on a trip led by Stephen Ambrose. It was 1991. No tears. In fact, there’s a photo of three of us old vets standing at his grave and we’re all looking resolute. Soldiers, you know, posing for a picture taken by a historian who admired the hell out of us. I returned there in 2004 and remembered how when Roe asked if I wanted to see Skip, I’d said no. And when Winters asked if I wanted a break, I’d said no. I realized that since those moments, I’d grieved for everybody I’d lost except for one man, the man whose death I’d tried for decades to run away from, the man whose loss had hit me harder than all the rest. How many times had I looked at that 1942 photo of all of us at Toccoa, the one I’d written all the KIAs and SWAs on for those killed and seriously wounded, and thought, Why not me? Why no initials on my chest? Why not at Brécourt Manor, when I’d stupidly gone after what I thought was a Luger on that dead soldier? Or at Hell’s Corner, when German soldiers had our patrol outnumbered eight to three but wrongly assumed we had more firepower and surrendered to us? Or at Bastogne? If Winters hadn’t split Skip and me up, that would probably have been me, not Penkala, in that foxhole with Skip on January 9, 1944. But even if I’ve played the what-if game often, I know, deep down, that you can never win at it. Better to remember that, for whatever reason—God or fate or reading a Reader’s Digest article about paratroopers on a Greyhound bus heading for Astoria—I was privileged to serve with a company of men who would make me far more than I would have been without them. And that losing one of those men had hurt so badly that I’d buried the thought of him, thinking that somehow that would help me avoid the pain. Better, I’ve since learned, to turn into those waves and dive. So on that day in 2004 when I visited the cemetery where Skip is buried, I looked at that white marble cross and that name—Sgt. Warren H. Muck—and thought of the kid who swam the Niagara. The march to Atlanta. The smile. I knelt, placed flowers at the base of that cross. Prayed. All the things I’d done before when I’d come to see his grave. Only this time I did something different, long overdue, and hard but freeing. I cried sixty years’ worth of tears.
~ Don Malarkey
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explicit-tae · 1 year ago
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Metamorphosis
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An alternate world in which you encounter someone in the middle of the night - a man seemingly hurt. Much to your luck, you were extremely wrong. (Teaser)
@juju-227592 @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @castlewolfsbane @babycandy111 @chimmy-licious @whipwhoops @chimmisbae
Word Count: 8.669
Warning: demon jungkook, unsolicited touching/kissing/groping, ass slapping, humiliation kink, degradation kink, public sex, dirty talking, slight coercion, fingering, oral (f receiving), spanking, unprotected sex, blood play/licking, biting, creampie, squirting,
Alternate Universe | Halloween Masterlist | PART 2
“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 
The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.
“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”
The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.
“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 
“The pain will not last long, my beautiful human…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in Hell. We will be waiting for you.”
You cross your arms in front of yourself firmly, shivering as the heavy rain fully engulfs you. You’re soaking wet and obviously pissed. You had gotten off of work late due to your boss being an asshole - you had stayed hours past your scheduled time out. Usually you would have not cared because extra hours meant extra money - but today was different. Every Friday you made it your mission to visit the cemetery and place flowers onto your mothers grave. Since you have gotten off of work late into the night, there was no time to stop for flowers (and it would be useless due to the rain).
Not only were you stuck in the rain, but you had to walk the entire way to the cemetery, then home. There were no buses running at this time and that meant you were in for an hour walk home after the already 30 minute walk to the cemetery. Let’s not forget that you saw your boss drive right past you without any eye contact.
The sky is dark and starless and there appeared to be little to no street lights on. The only light you do get comes from the moon high above. You've seen this before in a horror movie. A lone girl walking at night and bam, a killer chasing after her. Maybe you shouldn’t be thinking like this at this time, but you couldn’t help it. You were utterly hopeless with no one to call at this time - and even if you did, it’s pouring rain and your phone is tucked deep into your purse to not get it any more damage than it already was.
Your feet ached as you reached the cemetery. The rain was dying down, but you were already soaking wet and it was the least of your concerns now. It took a few more strolls until you reached the familiar headstone belonging to your mother. You sigh, dropping to your knees. You would regret it later while getting the mud stains off of your work clothes, but you were off the next two days and that was enough to not think about it further.
Visiting your mother was bittersweet. Sometimes you’d go just to pay your respects, other times you would speak as if she was there with you - talking about your day and what was new in your life. Now you were exhausted and your body ached, you remained silent and enjoyed the quiet company. 
You’re unsure how long you’ve sat there, but you noticed that the rain began to pick up once more. You knew by tomorrow, you would be sick and decided to call it a night. You’d probably even decide to visit once more when the rain cleared up the following day to bring the flowers you couldn’t bring today.
You got off of your knees, touching the gravestone lightly before making your way out of the cemetery. Your eyes remained forward as your feet strolled through the grassy field. You cursed at your luck - your clothing stuck to you and it was becoming uncomfortable to walk.Your shoes are covered in mud and grime and it’s nearly pitch black in said cemetery, the moon shining but so much.
Your feet halt in their tracks. You blink your eyes, zoning in on a figure not far away from you. The figure appeared to be hunched over, on their own knees. You clench your burse tighter, eyes blinking away the droplets of rain to try to get a better look. 
The moonlight shines off of the figure and it appears to glow - it’s a person, no doubt. You ponder if they’re there for the same reason you are - but not everyone would be caught in the rain paying respect to a deceased loved one, right?
You begin to step closer to the figure, unsure of what your body is doing. Your mind is screaming out alarm bells, that something wasn’t right and this could end up going completely wrong. 
The figure’s head lifts up, shining eyes glowing in the dark. A man, you note, just as drench in the rain as you were. Black hair sticks to his scalp and covers the majority of his forehead. Just as before, he appeared to be shining underneath the moonlight.
“Are you o-okay?” you stutter out, uneasy with the intense stare of the man. You can make out his features - chiseled jawline, sharp eyes and full lips. 
Your throat swallows a lump, body visibly stiffening upon noticing the man's eyes turning a shade of crimson. There was no possible way you were seeing things.
The man begins to lift from his knees and once onto his feet, your mind is screaming at you to run. The man is tall - and athletically built. He wore a suit of the sorts, completely black that it nearly disguises him in the dark scenery. 
Your heart is beating outside your chest, your mind coming back to reality when he begins to step closer to you. His feet snap a twig beneath them. You want to run - you can even feel the way your body jerks to do so, but you cannot.
What?
What the fuck?
Your heart beats even louder that even the pouring rain is no match for it. Your hands clench your purse tighter against you.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Why is it becoming harder to breathe?
Your throat tightens.
Your body begins to shudder, trembling. You’re unsure what in the world is going on with you right now. You’re trembling, feeling a rush of cold air go through you one moment and the next, you’re burning up. Your body temperature hightens, as if your blood is boiling at a rapid pace. Your clothes being wet and sticking to you already didn’t make anything better.
“You,”
Your eyes widen hearing the man's voice so clear - as if there wasn’t rain pouring. The wind kicked up, swirling around you, yet still, his voice was coherent. 
“are such a beautiful little human.”
Air filled your lungs once more and finally, you were able to breathe. Your mind swirls around on his words - a beautiful little human? What did that mean?
The man appears in front of you in a blink of an eye - how you didn’t fall back with a scream, you’re truly unsure. He’s tall, towering over you with his menacing gaze - eyes appearing even darker with a mysterious glint to them. Those eyes…they weren’t human, you note, they couldn’t be. Even if his overall appearance to be that of a human man - there was no man you met with such crimson eyes. 
The man offers you a smile - no, a smirk. It didn’t appear genuine like a smile someone would give you upon introducing themselves. This was a cunning one; devious.
You do not realize that you’ve dropped your purse until it hits your feet. Your body still feels hot, temperature rising every second. 
You feel the man's hand place itself against the skin of your cheek - they were calloused and even hotter than your own skin. His thumb traces the outline of your lips and you can hear he’s humming to himself.
“Your heart is beating so loud, beautiful. Are you afraid of me?” the man questions. “Do I frighten you? Or do I make you nervous?”
“Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.” you manage to say - more stutter. Breathing was difficult enough, but speaking appeared to be a battle. 
The man chuckles. “A prayer?”
“I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers-”
You feel your throat tighten once more, this time by the man's hands. He forces you closer to him. “Shut up.” he hisses. “Your prayers do not affect me, beautiful. It makes me want to ruin you even more.”
Your body was feeling weird. Goosebumps prickled your skin - you can feel it beneath your clothing - and your stomach was beginning to bubble. You closed your eyes to not look into his eyes, but even then you could see them glaring at you.
“Christ be with me, Christ within me, Christ behind me, Christ before-” your prayer is cut short when a pair of lips are against yours. You’re struggling against the lips, a muffled scream dying in your throat.
The man removes himself from you, but he holds you close. His hands wrap tightly beneath your chin. Your eyes squeeze shut, heart thumping rapidly.
“You can feel it, right, beautiful?” The man's words are sultry, coming out more as a moan than a regular statement. “I know what it’s doing to you. I know you can feel it…right here…”
You gasp, feeling a tense grip between your legs. Your eyes snap open, the crimson eyes .boring right into your own. You want to jolt away from his prying hands - to push this man, no, this monster away.
“I know, beautiful…” the man sing-songs. “...the arousal feels amazing. Doesn’t it feel like you’re sinning for me, Y/N?”
You froze. Your eyes couldn't even grow wider. This man knew your name.
This man, whoever he was, knew you. He knew you’d be here visiting your mothers grave - that or he followed you.
“Yes, beautiful, I know your name.” the man chuckles, his hand rubbing along your clothed head. “I’ve always known your name. I’ve known of your existence since the day you were born.”
This man wasn’t human - your heart told you. His eyes, his words; he was something otherworldly. 
“Dear Father, Thank You for protecting me. Thank You for the angels that you assign to watch over me. I can be at peace today knowing that my very life is in Your hands-”
You squirm feeling a sickly substance upon your cheek. The man is licking you now - up your jaw, to your chin and now your cheek. His fingers hold your face in place in a tight grip. He reaches your ear, flicking the lobe. “Praying won’t stop me from having you, beautiful.”
This monster was doing something to you and your body. You would never feel this way. He had you under a spell - your legs are clenching against his prying hand. You could feel a pool of slick sticking to your panties - and so does the man.
“I need your help in this battle. I cannot walk alone, Lord-”
“Ah, that prayer!” the man cackles. “You feel it running through you, beautiful. The lust. You’re moaning right underneath my hand, beautiful. I can smell the sweet smell of your pussy.”
The man's words are so vulgar that you’re unable to respond. His hands cup your clothed heat even tighter. The hand that once grips your chin now loosens so he could push you closer against him.
“You’re a monster.” you hiss - but it’s not a regular hiss. No, the man notes this tone. It’s a moan of disgust, but a moan nonetheless.
“I am.” the man chuckles. “A demon straight from Hell, beautiful.”
Your throat releases a scream when your hair is yanked backwards. Your eyes are towards the sky, the droplets of rain blinding your eyes. You continue to scream when you feel teeth against your neck, biting down.
You want to fight the man - this predator. This demon. Your prayers aren’t working and appear to be falling on deaf ears. 
The man shudders at the taste of your blood. So pure and not laced with any impurities. But he wasn’t here for your blood - no, this was just a part of the ritual. 
“My name is Jungkook.” the man purrs, licking his lips of your delicious blood. “Finally, you’re mine.”
You cough. Your hands are clenching onto Jungkook’s chest unwillingly. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering. 
“You’re afraid of me, beautiful?” Jungkook tsks. His tongue licks the wound of your neck, twirling it up to your chin and to your lips. He presses an open mouth kiss onto your lips and moans. 
“I’m not yours.” you wheeze out.
“Oh…” Jungkook could only laugh. “...but you are, beautiful.”
Jungkook’s hand squeezes your ass. “I can smell your arousal. You’re so wet for me, Y/N. You’re clenching and unclenching around nothing.”
You feel ashamed by how true Jungkook’s words were. You want to cry out - you didn’t belong to this demon! You were a part of your local Church and attended said church with your mothers for years. You prayed constantly, remained God as your main priority and prayed away whatever petty sins you committed. 
“You belonged to me the day your mother gave birth to you, my love.” Jungkook’s hand pulls at your clothes. Your shirt rips in seconds, revealing your bra beneath. “That was part of the deal, after all.”
Deal?
Your hands grasp Jungkook’s wrist when his hands tug along your pants. You didn’t match his strength, and like your shirt, your pants are ripped to pieces. 
“I won’t submit to you, demon.”
Jungkook wants to coo at your cuteness. No matter how many times you denied him, he wouldn’t listen. You were going to be his regardless of what you felt - he had waited decades to get what he was promised. You had no skill, will or strength to deny him anything - you were already aroused. Soon, you would be begging for him and he would give you what you’ll be begging for.
You are turned away from him and flipped. Your face meets the muddy ground. You squirm when you feel your hips being lifted by Jungkook’s arm. The position is filthy and you want to be removed from this humiliating state.
Jungkook marvels at the sight of you - face down, ass up. So cute and exactly how you were expected to be. One hand grips your ass, gently rubbing before he brings his hand back and slaps it roughly.
You scream once more at the impact, and again and again. Jungkook continued, crimson eyes darkening at the sight of you squirming beneath him. 
“P-Please stop!”
Jungkook hums. “Why?” He slaps your ass once more, the sound like a melody to his ears. His hands trail between your legs to rub gently. “You’re so wet for me.”
Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth biting your lips to repress a moan. You can feel yourself grow wetter at the second and that’s what frightens you. You didn’t want to fall into temptation due to the demons hold against you.
“Let’s see just how filthy you are, huh?”
“N-No!”
Jungkook fingers hooks between your panties. He pushes them aside and finds his mouth watering. “Such a whore you truly are, beautiful. So wet and clenching around nothing.”
You couldn’t help the groan that comes from your throat when he rubs a thumb against it. Your thighs quiver to close, but Jungkook only slaps your throbbing ass once more to punish you.
Jungkoom continues to rub along your clit, fingers sliding between your folds effortlessly. He can feel his pants tightening at just the sight of you.
“So wet.” Jungkook grunts. He smirks, fingers dangerously close to your opening. “I can just slide…”
“N-No!” you gasp, but even with your pleas, your legs widen for him. 
“...right in.” Jungkook enters two fingers inside of you. So warm and wet - and inviting. He pumps his fingers inside, marveling at how you take him so well. “You’re milking my fingers, beautiful. Good little whore you are, huh?”
You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut. 
Why?
Why were you moaning for this demon? Why was your body not cooperating with your brain? Why were you so wet and aroused with such sinful acts?
“J-Jungkook…please!”
Jungkook groans. “That’s right, beautiful. Just give in.” he murmurs, his fingers picking up the pace. “It’ll be over if you just submit to me.”
“N-No…” You don’t want to moan any more. You can feel a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Jungkook removes his fingers from inside of you. He doesn’t allow you to fall forward. He lifts you and presses you against him. “Taste yourself.” he hisses and before you can protest, he enters two of his fingers inside of your mouth.
Your tongue swirls against his fingers unwillingly, your juices hitting your tongue. 
“I wonder if you taste as divine as you smell, beautiful.” Jungkook whispers in your ear, popping his fingers from your mouth. “Give me a taste.”
“N-No…”
Jungkook hums. “No?”
You nod your head. 
“Then why are you leaning against me, beautiful? Why are your hips jerking for more pleasure?”
Jungkook flips you once more. He’s laid against the ground and has you hovering above him. You’re firmly in his grasp, unable to escape. His teeth - so sharp and canine like - bite at your underwear until they’re as ripped as your shirt and pants were. 
You gasp when Jungkook places you on his lips. You’re sitting directly on his tongue, palms back against his abdomen for balance as he licks between your folds. 
Jungkook grunts. “So sweet, beautiful.” he murmurs before going back to ravishing you. 
Your eyes are unable to remove themselves from the sight before you. Jungkook’s tongue - long with and split at the end, rapidly lick upon your clit and between the folds. You could no longer hide your moans, allowing the pleasure to run through you.
This was wrong.
This is a demon - no matter how attractive he may be, this was a demon.
You consider yourself a child of God, fully committed to your faith.
But Jungkook using his tongue to pleasure you felt far too amazing to not moan - too amazing to protest his advances any longer. And, as sad as it sounds, far too amazing for you to utter the word of God in hopes of stopping him.
Jungkook’s nails dig into the skin of your inner thigh. Your scent intoxicates his mind, your slick sliding against his tongue. Finally, you were his - and now you weren’t refusing him. Your moans are loud - even with the rain starting up once more. You were giving in to your rightful urges as his.
Jungkook’s eyes flicker to your face. Such a beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Mouth agape and moaning with pleasure, the droplets of rain trailing down your skin. It glistens beneath the moonlight.
“My beautiful human.” Jungkook growls. His tongue swipes at your clit once more. “Pleasure yourself against my tongue.”
Jungkook slaps your thigh in encouragement. He wants you completely submerged in pleasure that you would willingly participate in.
Your hips jerk forward and onto his tongue. A deep moan comes from your throat and you now find yourself thrusting onto Jungkook - a demon. Your eyes squeeze shut, wanting nothing more than to feel your release.
Jungkook’s hands roam your body, tongue laying flat while you use him. They trail up your thighs to your hips, wrapping around them to encourage you to go faster. He then slides them up your sides to grasp your breast from your bra. He squeezes them, pinching the sensitive bubs of your nipples.
“J-Jungkook, I-I can’t take it!”
Jungkook pinches your nipple once more. He clamps down onto them so hard that you scream out, lifting yourself from his tongue, juices releasing.
And Jungkook’s laps every drop, a groan rumbling deep within his soul.
Whatever soul Jungkook had deep within Hell that was.
You fall limp against his legs, legs quivering.
“My poor beautiful human.” Jungkook moves your body so that he is on top of you. “Came so hard that you can barely function.”
Jungkook leans down to swipe his tongue against your cheek once more, the reason you’re unsure of. 
“I’m going to make you cum over and over again.”
The rain falls even harder, but the majority of it is hidden beneath Jungkook’s body. He kicks off his pants along with his underwear.
You can’t see it, but you feel how large Jungkook is when he forces himself inside of you. You feel like you’re being stretched to the max. Your arms wrap around his neck tightly, breathing hitching.
“Beautiful human…so tight.” Jungkook growls. “Made just for me. My perfect little human.”
Jungkook doesn’t allow you the luxury to adjust to his size. He thrusts deeply inside of you, cracking his hips harshly. Your back hits against the muddy dirty roughly with each thrust. You were going to be filthy once this ended - if it ever did. This was a demon here with you? Did a demon’s stamina ever go out? It wasn’t like he was human.
“Jungkook, please!” you plead with him, but Jungkook doesn’t want to hear it. His teeth clamp down onto your skin, biting it harshly enough to release blood. “I-I can’t handle-”
“You can!” Jungkook hisses. He leans back to admire your disheveled appearance. You were covered in mud, blood and soaking wet. Your hair is sticking to you and your eyes are struggling to stay open. But to him - you were perfect. “Finally mine.”
There’s a bulge in your stomach, reminding you just who you were fucking. Jungkook is a demon.
A demon.
You were going to Hell surely.
There’s blood trailing down your thigh, but still Jungkook refuses to halt his abusive thrusts.
“Your soul, your mind, your heart and your body belong to me.” Jungkook growls, appearing utterly animalistic. “All mine, Y/N. My beautiful human. And all it took was a deal from your father.”
Your father?
You didn’t have a father - physically. You were raised with two mothers; when you grew up you never had a reason to look for who your biological father was. You asked your mothers, sure, but it was stated he was someone who provided them sperm and nothing more.
“He got what he wanted and in return…”
Jungkook flips you onto your knees. He wraps an arm around your neck and enters you once more. He continues the brutal pace, skin slapping and echoing off of the trees. You’re not sure if you were going to survive this. Your insides hurt - even if it came with brief pleasure. Your body was aching just as bad and Jungkook showed no chance of stopping.
“...in return…I got you, beautiful human of mine…” Jungkook grunts. “...you’ll be coming back home with me to Hell.”
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It was your alarm that had woken you up that following morning. You jerked upward, eyes scanning the room. Your room.
You were in your room.
You inhaled deeply and exhaled just the same. Your ears are ringing and your fluttering eyes are attempting to adjust to the sunlight coming from your bedroom window.
Your aching legs manage to move. You swing them around your bed and lift yourself. You managed to make it to your mirror and you gasped.
You weren’t dirty nor covered in mud like you expected. That couldn’t have been a dream - everything felt far too realistic to be one. You were intimate with a demon - he had told you that you were his because of a father you never met.
Your eyes scan the scars and bruises littering your body. There’s hand marks upon your throbbing skin, one around your neck and two on both sides of your waist. You can see the bite marks that drew blood on your neck and another between your thighs.
You want to cry, but felt that even that would be hypocritical. You allowed a demon into your body - to have something precious that should have belonged to your human partner. You have learned from an early age that demons were tricksters and you had fallen into their trap.
You shower until the hot water runs cold - and even then you did not want to remove yourself. You washed your skin countless times in hopes to rid yourself of the sick feeling, but it never left. You could feel his hands on your body now as if he was here - his teeth and his tongue grazing along onto your skin.
Your mind betrayed you as did your body. There’s flashes replaying the long night Jungkook had bestroved for you. How he had taken you so roughly against the cemetery ground, both of you covered in blood. How he had flipped you and taken you against a tree, allowed you on top of him - almost every inch of the area you had been fucked on.
You clench your legs together and clench your fists. You dried your body, trying to rid your thoughts of the sinful encounter - but they wouldn’t leave. You were beginning to feel the uncomfortable throb between your legs once more.
Pray.
You had to pray. 
You dressed in fresh clothing and went towards your vanity. Your rosary would be there. You grasp it in your hands, ready to send a prayer when the rosary begins to burn in your hands. You screamed, dropping it to the floor and watching with wide eyes as it began to burn through the hardwood floor. 
“No…”
You trembled, not taking your sight off of the burning rosary.
You were too far gone - you were damned to Hell.
The tears finally came. You have dropped to your knees now, praying for forgiveness for the sins you committed. Your God would understand - he had to. You didn’t want to sleep with the demon that was Jungkook. You had no choice. He had you underneath a demonic spell that had you moaning his name, crying tears of lust and pleasure…
Had you been screaming his name, claiming how much you wanted Jungkook…
You wrapped your arms around him and begged for more - each and every time…
The feeling was returning. The familiar arousal between your legs and the warm feeling against your skin. You lay upon the cool hardwood floor, wanting nothing more than for your temperature to subside.
Why you?
Why were you being cursed by Jungkook?
What was the supposed deal Jungkook made with your biological father? And even so, you didn’t even know the man. Was he even still alive?
“Beautiful human.”
Your body jerks at the sound of Jungkook - his sultry voice.
Jungkook leans against the nearest wall of your bedroom. He’s sporting all black once more, this time a fitted shirt and slacks. His eyes are the familiar shade of crimson and they watch you closely. 
“Look at you. In a pool of your own arousal once more.” Jungkook shakes his head, a smirk placed on such beautiful lips…
You shake your head. This wasn’t your mind thinking - it had to be the demonic spell.
“I have not put you under any spell.”
Can he read your mind?
“I can read your mind, beautiful.” Jungkook states. “You can learn to read mine. Once we venture to Hell.”
You aren’t going to Hell. You were going to ask God for his forgiveness - to be allowed to be underneath his guidance once more. 
“God…” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “...will never take you. He never had you to begin with, beautiful. Why do you think it was so easy for me to get my hands on you?”
The familiar tightening in your throat, the heat radiating your skin and the goosebumps were returning. Your clit throbbed uncomfortably as if your body knew Jungkook was near. 
“Your body will always submit to me, beautiful. As it belongs to me.”
No.
No.
No!
“I know you feel the arousal once more. How wet you are. You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” Jungkook cackles loudly. “Touch yourself, beautiful. See how wet you are.”
No.
You weren’t going to.
If so, why were your hands going beneath your shorts to touch yourself?
“It’s okay, beautiful. Touch yourself and watch me.”
You want to deny him the satisfaction of watching you, but you’re already succumbing to his demonic spell. You were positive that he’s done something to your mentality that you could never deny him.
“I-I can’t.” you snatch your hands from your shorts, feeling flush with embarrassment.
“That just means you want me to, huh?” Jungkook is kneeling down beside you in the blink of an eye. You want to ask how he does it, but you’re afraid of the answer. You weren’t ready to go down a rabbit hole of demonic entities and powers.
“No…?”
“Is that a question, beautiful?”
Jungkook’s already tugging your pants down and taping your thighs aside. He’s amused by how easily you give into him.
“Go ahead and tell me no.” Jungkook plays with the lace of your underwear. Your clit is visible to him - wet and inviting as always. “Then I'll leave.”
“You’ll leave?”
Don’t sound disappointed, you think. You wanted this demonic entity gone - right?
“Of course. Tell me to leave, Y/N. And I’ll go.”
Jungkook hooks a finger inside your laced panties with a shake of his head. So divine and so sweet - even after he completely ruined you not long ago.
Tell him to go.
Tell him to leave you alone and to never return.
Be stern, you think. Resist him and the impure thoughts of this demon.
But you don’t. Those words never leave your lips. 
“Already so wet, my beautiful human.” Jungkook enters a finger inside of you for a second. He then removes it and enters it inside his mouth. “And taste so heavenly.” he cackles. “Heavenly for someone going to Hell.”
You don’t respond to Jungkook’s words. He’s already entering his fingers back inside of you. He pumps slowly at first to get you comfortable - and then he’s rapid. The sounds of his moving fingers echo off the walls of your bedroom - mixed with your moans of pleasure. It sends shockwaves throughout your body.
It’s so sinful, you think. How when you were a child with your mothers going to church, even if the three of you got awkward stares - how you read the bible alongside them. You prayed every night before bed, before every meal - you needed to know where exactly you went wrong.
“Still blaming yourself, sweetheart?” Jungkook’s so beautiful, you think. You recall many times hearing that demons were often beautiful to trick you into sinning with them. “I told you, you were destined to me long before you were even born.”
You feel Jungkook’s fingers hitting your g-spot, curling inside of you with each thrust. It’s as if he was going deeper and deeper each time. You don’t want to look at the beautiful man, but it’s as if he compels you to. His crimson eyes - so captivating and inhumane. You were told that you were under no spell, but that had to be a lie - demons always lie.
“I never tell no lies, my beautiful human.” Jungkook comes closer to you, licking his lips. “What you feel right now is not due to any spell, but your own body submitting to me.”
Your soft moans only fuel Jungkook on further. His tongue licks along the skin of your collarbone. Your thighs tremble with pleasure when you feel his teeth once more - he’s biting you. It doesn’t hurt, you note, not like it did when he bit you at the cemetery. 
You’re breathing quicken and your eyes snaps shut; you were going to cum. You cannot remember when you ever felt this much pleasure in such a short amount of time until now, and all you can truly think about was succumbing deeper and deeper into the pleasure.
“I know you feel it coming.” Jungkook’s breath tickles your neck as he speaks. “Say my name, beautiful human. Who is the demon who’s going to make you cum?”
“J-Jungkook…!” you shout, feeling the wave of pleasure shoot out of you. It engulfs your entire body, shuddering up the back of your spine and causing goosebumps to litter your skin.
It was when you opened your eyes did you think you were going crazy - completely insane. Jungkook was gone, seemingly never in front of you. Your fingers were inside of you instead of his own, completely soaked in your slick.
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“How did you find me? I know your…mothers. They wouldn’t give up that information.”
It took a week to track down your biological father - a week of torment each night with Jungkook. You cried after you realized that you masturbated, not because you thought it was wrong - you’ve done so before. But because you weren’t sure what was real and what was fake anymore. No prayer stopped Jungkook from returning to you each night - and you never told him yourself to stop; your body submitting to him each time like he’s stated.
You visited your mother on the third day and even she saw the bags beneath your eyes. She questions your appearance, but all you could think about was the very man before you - it took hours to convince her, but she eventually caved. 
“Well…” your father murmurs, sighing after a moment of silence. “...what do you want? Money?”
Your eyes roam over the large estate he lived in. Money would’ve been nice if there wasn’t a literal demon fucking you every night - but even you wouldn’t think to ask him for money. He was nothing but a donor for your mother’s to have a child, never truly intending to be in your life. 
“What deal did you make with the demon?” you ask bluntly.
Your father’s eyes widen slightly at your choice of words. He turns to close the doors to the office you sat in before turning back to you. 
“What…are you talking about?” he coughs, turning back to you. 
“What deal did you make with the demon that’s tormenting me?” you don’t mean for your tone to come out harsh, but it does. You were upset - rightfully so. “What are you? A musician? You promised that son of a bitch your first born child for a record deal-”
“I’m not a musician.” he raises his hands in an attempt to calm you. “H-How did you find me-”
“Are you not listening?!” you take a deep breath, again, not wanting to appear too angered. “There’s a demon tormenting me every night. He said that my…father,” you didn’t want to call him that. He had no intentions of ever being in your life, he was nothing but a donor. But it didn’t matter to Jungkook. “made a deal with him. What the fuck was the deal you made with the demon? Why am I the one being tormented when I know you have other children-”
“You are my first born daughter.” the man caves. His voice comes out in a whisper and barely audible. “I have a son older than you before I made the deal.” his voice is cracking - was he guilty? After all these years did he feel bad for whatever he’s done? “I…I needed money to support my family. The demon said if I had a daughter that I…” the man blinks away from you. “...my wife fell pregnant with another son after we made the deal. That demon was upset. I’ll never forget those eyes. He threatened to kill my wife and kids if I didn’t give him a daughter. That was the plan. I never knew demons were specific with gender.”
Your blood runs cold as his words ring in your mind.
“I…what’s your name?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden interest. “Y/N.” you murmur.
“I thought the demon…I don’t know what I thought.” he sighs. “I kept tabs on you for years now and you remained alive. The demon didn’t take you when you were born like I initially thought he would. Each year passed and I began to think that maybe…he forgot? He didn’t want you anymore.”
You want to laugh. To think your life was given away before you were ever conceived. Your eyes roam the large office space and linger on a picture - a family one. The man before you with a woman, his wife, and two boys - his sons. They appeared happy as a small family of four. 
You sniffle, unsure truly if you could be upset with him. He was only doing what he thought was right at the time, trying to provide for his family. You ponder what would happen if he did have a daughter instead of a second son - would Jungkook have been tormenting her instead of you? 
You shake your head. 
“I have to go.” you exhale. “I-”
“I am…so sorry.”
You glance at the man’s way and nod your head. 
“So am I.” you murmur to him, your legs already walking towards the door of his office.
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Your body is sweating, beads of sweat pooling down your skin. Your shirt sticks to you thickly and you’re sure that this is how you were going to die - or pass out. Whichever came first.
Your eyes snap and you lean your head back, cupping your forehead. You sat at your desk, your work forgotten about.
It’s been two months now since you've been tormented by Jungkook - though he had been missing for the last week. You were grateful - in a way - that he has not returned. Your body needed the rest.
Your throat closes up and your eyes snap open. You never ran as fast as you did now, pushing past your co-workers to make your way into the restroom. You slam the stall door open and hurl right into the toilet. You felt physically ill, vomiting for the next ten minutes.
You were sent home once a co-worker found you like that, crying and vomiting - you weren’t even sure you had enough in your stomach to continue, but your body kept on.
It was the following day - you were given a few days off to recover - when you noticed that something was terribly wrong with you. You visited your mother that night for dinner - she claimed that you looked both hungry and ill. She was just going to start dinner - steak - and that you needed to relax while she finished up.
You thought the smell of raw meat would disgust you, but it didn't. While your mother washed dishes in the sink, humming to herself, you opened the fridge to find yourself something to drink. You were parched and now growing hotter by the second. You smelt it first - the raw steak your mother had placed in the fridge for another day. She hadn’t seasoned it yet like she usually did and it caught your eyes almost instantly. Your eyes glanced before the fridge door to your mother, scrubbing along the dishes.
You grasp the bowl the steak was placed in and sniff it, your stomach rumbling. Before you can process what you’re doing, you sink your teeth into the raw meat, the blood oozing from the corner of your lips. It tasted delicious - finally something you could smell or taste without vomiting it up moments after.
Your mind suddenly clicks on what in the world you’re doing. You slam the fridge door shut and hurl the bitten steak in the trash. You feel ill - not because you just ate raw meat, but because you liked it.
“You ate raw meat?” your doctor asks, chuckling awkwardly. “That cannot be good.”
“That’s why I’m here.” you murmur, playing with your fingers to not look your doctor in the eye. “There must be something wrong with me. I-I sweat constantly. I always feel sick. I can’t sleep most nights-”
“That’s what we were looking into.” your doctor nods, offering you a kind smile. “We ran some tests and a part of the problem can be answered. You’re pregnant.”
Pregnant.
Pregnant?
You shake your head slowly, eyes now widening at the doctor. “I can’t be…” you trail off. 
The only person - were demons even people? Your mind races at the word pregnant. You were only sexually active with Jungkook - an act you weren’t sure if you had complete control over. 
Demons had to be infertile - you were a human woman. There was no way you could be pregnant by a demon.
“We took multiple tests, Y/N. Would you like for me to perform a sonogram?”
You’re starting to feel ill again. 
“Y-Yea.” you whisper. 
The gel placed upon your stomach is cold. You don’t want to look upon the screen, but you’re drawn to it. 
Your doctor hums. “That’s weird.” he murmurs. “The baby appears large.”
You’re unsure how to read the screen, but you try your hardest. 
“But you’re rather small. You are still in the beginning stages of your pregnancy.” your doctor continues.
You pull your eyes away from the screen.
You shake your head. 
“I can’t have this baby.”
Your doctor glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. 
“Is there a way I can set up an appointment?” you continue. “I-I can’t keep this baby.”
Your doctor nods again. “We can set one up as soon as we have available. Let me speak-”
Your doctor coughs, and then begins to clench his chest. You lean forward as he begins to cough blood. He proceeds to fall to the ground, sonogram equipment crashing alongside him. 
You swing your legs around to get up from the hospital bed. You swing the door open and scream out. “I-I think he’s having a heart attack in here!”
The room swarms with nurses, all pushing you aside. You couldn’t take your eyes off of your doctor as he’s being ushered out. Even as you make your way back home, did you feel as though you were at fault.
You swing the door to your home open and walk in. You close it behind you and wake your way towards your bedroom.
“Y/N.”
You come face to face with Jungkook.
“Welcome home, my beautiful human.” Jungkook offers you a smile, small dimples on display. “I’ll allow this realm to be your home for now.”
You shake your head. 
Jungkook takes a few steps closer to you. “You’re glowing.” he hums.
“You did this to me.” you hiss his way. “You put this…thing in me-”
“Thing?” Jungkook cackles, red eyes glaring at you. “You mean our child?”
“This isn’t a child.”
“But it is, my beautiful human. Made with our flesh and blood. A product of our love.” Jungkook is in front of you in a matter of seconds. He turns you around so you are facing the floor-length mirror in your room. He places a hand upon your stomach. “Such a powerful being to rival the strongest and most powerful demons of the underworld. I can feel it.”
You feel your throat tighten.
“You cannot feel such power yet. But as he grows throughout the months, so will his powers. They’ll be similar to my own.”
He?
“Yes. He. It’s a boy - I can feel him. He can also feel your disappointment, my beautiful human. You don’t want our child to feel hatred while he’s not yet been born.”
You shake your head. You didn’t want a child - not with a demon. You had your life planned the best you could. Find a man that you loved, get married - have children when the time was right. 
This time was not right.
“It is right.” Jungkook lifts your shirt to reveal your stomach. You feel disgusted that it begins to move. You’ve never seen anything like it. Women in early pregnancy didn’t look like you now. It was as if the child inside of you was attempting to claw its way out.
“Our childs power has shown itself today. He had his first kill.” Jungkook appears proud, crimson eyes shining. “It was self-defense. You tried to get rid of him, Y/N. He knows you did.”
Your heart sinks. Your doctor having a form of a heart attack, bleeding out in front of you. That was you - the child you were pregnant with. 
You blink rapidly to not cry, even if you desperately wanted to.
“Everything would be fine if you would stop fighting your destiny. You were destined to be mine - to submit to me. You are now having our child.”
Jungkook removes his hands from your stomach and lifts it in the air. From his reflection, you witness a small box appear in his hand.
“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, opening the box. “Do you feel nauseous? Headache? Hot?”
You shake your head, watching Jungkook remove a ring from the box. “I know,” he says. “you haven’t felt that way since you walked inside the room. It’s because our child feels welcomed with me around him. He isn’t on alert. He feels safe.”
Jungkook turns you around, holding up the ring. It’s large, a dark stone at the center surrounded by smaller diamonds. He grabs your hand in his own, sliding the ring onto your finger. “You humans enjoy jewelry as an act of commitment.” he states. “Now here it is. Consider us…married.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. 
Jungkook offers a smile, unbeknownst to you, a cunning one. Humans were always easy to manipulate.
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Your chest is ready to explode into small pieces. Your chest is tingling, you unwillingly inhale hoping that your lungs would be filled with air - the perfect amount of oxygen needed. Instead, it fills with water. Your head begins to feel numb and light, almost as if it’s going to crack open.
You feel dizzy, as if it dawned onto you just now that you were going to die here. Your arms flapped around for anything, but the weight of the water just brings you down deeper and deeper.
You managed to open your eyes, but the water isn’t clear. It’s hard to make out your surroundings and you cannot fathom what you’ve done to get here. 
You clenched your eyes shut in hopes the ringing in your head would go away, but it didn’t. Instead, it got louder and louder.
There’s no air left in your lungs, nothing keeping you alive. 
Your flaring hands cup your stomach - the bump that grew larger throughout the months. Your baby. Your heart sinks at the thought that not only you would be dying right now, but so would your son - even if a part of him was Jungkook, a demon, he was still a part of you.
Your chest burned while the rest of your body ached. You could no longer fight your kicking legs. You feel yourself sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, your surroundings only growing darker and darker.
Your mind, what little left you had of it, screamed for Jungkook to save you - that he was truly your only hope left. Not just for you, but for the child you both shared.
Your screams echo and bounce off of your ears. Your body begins to frail once more, feeling yourself being restrained. Your eyes finally focus and you realize that you are not deep in the abyss anymore.
Cries are heard throughout the room and finally, you stop fighting against the hands restraining you.
“I-Is that…”
You aren’t in a room. You aren’t sure where in the world you are. The walls are stone and high. There’s candles that are lined around your cot and on the walls. Surrounding you are several men, all unfamiliar except one. Jungkook. He’s holding something in his arms, wrapped in a clothed blanket. 
“Our son.” Jungkook rocks the wailing baby until he’s quiet. 
“Can I…hold him?”
The six men surrounding you all watch as Jungkook places the baby into your arms. Your eyes are fixed on him. He doesn’t appear to be that of a newborn - yet, he was half demon, so you wouldn’t hold anything against him. He’s still so small in your arms and against your chest and warm to the touch. There’s a mop of dark hard atop of his head.
Your son's eyes are open - and they are the same as Jungkook’s. Crimson, shining right up at you.
Your finger touches his skin, feeling your heart feel warm at just the sight of him.
Jungkook hums, feeling himself smile. He had you now - fully. Now more than ever would have if it was not for the child he’d given you; you had called for him while in the abyss to save the both of you. Even if there was never any direct harm to you physically, mentally you were calling for him. Him to protect you and his son.
“It’s time.” one of the men said. Jungkook takes the baby back into his arms, shushing when the small infant begins to sob at your lack of contact.
“W-What’s happening?” you want to hold your baby close to you once more, inhale the soft baby scent that even a half demon like he had. 
The six men surrounding you began to chant. You’re unsure what’s happening, but your heart sinks. There’s an uneasy feeling in your core.
“Jungkook…” you murmur, reaching out for him.
“It’s alright, my beautiful human.” Jungkook takes a step back with the baby, rocking him gently. “The bond has been completed. Now we can be together for eternity. In Hell.”
The room begins to shake, as if an earthquake was beginning to happen. The candles on the stone walls all fall, falling onto the ground and erupting around you.
“Jungkook!” you shout, your nails clenching the thin sheet surrounding you. What in the world is going on right now? 
“The pain will not last long, my beautiful wife…” Jungkook trails off. His son begins to cry, feeling the distress coming from his mother - noted seeing as he was just as connected to you as he was to Jungkook. “...once it’s over, you can reunite with us in the Underworld. We will be waiting for you.”
The chants only get louder and the room hotter. When you managed to take your eyes away from Jungkook, you looked towards the shaking ground. It erupts, pits of flames crashing through the ground. You scream, unsure of what was going on.
Jungkook’s words ring in your mind - you would be reunited with them in the Underworld.
Your blood runs cold, feeling your arms being pulled upon from an unknown force deep within the pits. 
Your eyes lock with Jungkook for a last time, crimson eyes staring right into your own. You’re unsure how to read him - he was a demon and could demons ever truly be trusted? They were cunning and selfish; only truly anything for personal gain.
‘I’ll be right down there when you arrive, Y/N. We both will.’ 
You’re shocked for a moment, hearing Jungkook’s voice directly into your thoughts. Now your body is being dragged down into the Earth, swallowing you fully and yet, all you could hear are Jungkook’s words in your head.
‘You have my word, my beautiful wife.’
PART 2 | Divine Intervention (Taehyung Version)
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bloodibambiidoll · 4 months ago
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𖤐 A Dreaded Summer Day 𖤐
𓉸ྀི Kinktober Day 2 Eddie Munson ⟢ Voyeurism/Breeding 𓉸ྀི
Warnings: Outside sex, unprotected sex, switch!Eddie, switch!reader, breeding kink, alternative!fem!reader, lil bit of degradation and spanking, 69ing, Jacob’s ladder piercing, no physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit, Eddie & reader being sooo in luv. The kink WAS spanking originally but subby!Eddie took the wheel and I changed it around 18+MDNI
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You and Eddie hardly ever go on “conventional” dates and tonight is no exception. The warm September days were fading into autumn nights and your boyfriend figured what better time for a midnight cemetery picnic? He filled your vintage picnic basket you found at the thrift store with all your favorite treats and then stopped on the way for a pizza for the two of you to share. He spread out a thick blanket under a big willow tree and even made you a brand new mix tape and brought his boombox for mood music. The leaves were starting to change, even a few starting to fall on the grass that was getting more and more brown by the day. The breeze that whooshed through the air smelled like the promise of rain in the next few days and the full moon was shining perfectly in the cloudless sky above you. It also doesn’t hurt that you have your gorgeous boyfriend with you.
Eddie looks so good tonight. It’s one of those rare occasions where he’s traded his usual black jeans for a pair of distressed blue ones. His curly mane was a bit messier than usual due to the long, late evening nap the two of you took together so he threw it in a low bun. On top he has on an Alice and chains zip up he got at a concert the two of you went to last year and you know for a fact the only thing he has underneath it is one of those tight black tanks that drive you crazy. He of course has his chains on his pants, chunky rings, and the newest addition to his daily accessories being the chain with your first initial hanging from it right along with his guitar pick necklace. All in typical Eddie fashion. The nose ring he got a few days ago was just the cherry on top of how fucking sexy he looks sitting under the moonlight.
“Quit staring at me like that.” Eddie chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you.
“Like what?” You say it in a sing-song tone as you cross your ankles and rest your chin on your hands while you lay on your stomach across from him.
“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to make me telepathically bust a nut or something.” You bat your lashes at him as you start to kick your feet back and forth behind you in mock innocence.
“And? Is it working?” You jokingly wiggle your eyebrows and your ass his way, playing into his joke.
“If you keep it up, it just might, princess.” Eddie leans down and gives you a kiss on the head before playfully slapping your jean clad ass. A low whimper slips past your lips and it makes your boyfriend give you an inquisitive look that quickly turns into a nearly diabolical grin. “Oh?”
“Eddieee, don’t make it a thing, okay?” You groan and roll onto your back, throwing your hands up dramatically before letting them fall to your sides. “It’s not my fault you brought me on this cute ass date to one of my favorite places, you look like that, and now you’re slapping my ass. You’re the one being a slut.”
“Oh, yeah?” Without warning Eddie abruptly grips your hips to flip you back onto your back and smacks your ass with more power behind it than before. You can’t hold in the little yelp that drowns out into a moan when he spanks you again. “I think you’re the one being a slut, baby. I was trying to be all romantic and you’ve been practically eye fucking me since we were in the van…”
“I just don’t understand how you could think bringing me here in the middle of the night wasn’t going to make me horny?” You huff and roll around onto your back again so you can look up at your boyfriend who is kneeling above you, looking down at you smugly. Eddie’s eyes twinkle with lust and mischief as his hands come down to grip onto your wrists before he leans down into your face and straight up laughs. “Are you serious? This was your plan all along? You’re so annoying.”
“Hey, don’t get all bratty on me now, doll.” Eddie leans down and runs his nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet vanilla cherry scent you always wore. “I wanted to treat you nice n sweet tonight. But if you want to give me an attitude I can bend you over my knee right here, right now.”
Your boyfriend is perfect, truly. The fact that he planned to bring you out here and make love to you all sweet under the full moon is one of the main reasons you love him. But right now? You feel like seeing how far you can push his buttons. You manage to wrap your legs around his hips enough to use the element of surprise and flip him on his back. You straddle him, your hands pinning him to the ground even though you know he could easily break free.
“What are you gonna do about it, Munson?” You grind down on him and let out this cute little giggle and Eddie swears he had every intention of throwing you over his knee and spanking you until your ass was raw. But god, you look so fucking beautiful straddling his lap with the moonlight illuminating down on you. Your hair is mused from having the windows down in the van and your black eyeliner smudged eyes are nearly glowing while your blackberry painted lips are quirked into this damn near bewitching smirk. You are wearing this loose fitting off shoulder long sleeve that shows off your bra straps and his favorite pair of black jeans that hug your body perfectly. The way you’re angled has your shirt riding up enough to show off your studded belt and black thong and it’s all enough to have Eddie nearly melting into the ground.
“God, anything you want, baby girl.” Eddie’s voice is sweet like honey and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes. You’re no stranger to taking control in the bedroom, it just wasn’t the direction you were expecting tonight to go. You’re not mad at it though. “Your wish is my command, truly.”
“Yeah? You gonna let me ride your fat cock? right here in the graveyard? You really are a slut tonight, huh?” Eddie whimpers and you feel his cock harden against your Jean clad pussy as you grind down on him.
“God, yes. Fucking please.” And what kind of person would you be to make him beg when he just looks so pretty underneath you? You stand so you can kick off your boots before reaching to undo your belt and then slowly start to pull off your jeans. You make a real show of it, wiggling them down your hips inch by agonizing inch, turning around to show off the way your ass looked when you pulled it free from the tight material, bending over extra as you pushed them down your legs. Eddie leans over and laces his thick ringed hand around your ankle before running his tongue along your calf while looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Please use me, baby.”
You pull your leg from his grasp in a swinging motion and plant your foot in the middle of his chest and Eddie swears he’s going to bust in his pants when you press the pad of your foot down into him, pinning him to the ground. More mentally than physically but it honestly just makes your pussy even wetter knowing that he could break free of you so easily, yet he doesn’t.
“Be a good boy and take that pretty cock out for me then.” You press on his chest again for emphasis before running your foot up his collar bones, neck, and finally along his cheek. You caress his stubble with your pretty black painted toes before pushing them down on his face, effectively pressing his cheek into the blanketed ground beneath him.
“Oh, fuuuckkk yes, fucking step on me, princess.” Eddie’s eyes roll back and he moans as he reaches for his pants and hastily undoes them along with his belt. He pushes them down his hips to his knees all while you crush his face into the blanket with your soft soled foot. You were fully ready to ride Eddie’s cock until he was dripping down your thighs but the minute it springs free you need it in your mouth. It’s so thick, the tip red and angry with precum that’s glistening from the light of the moon dripping down it and every time you see the ladder of barbells down his shaft it reminds you how worth those weeks of not having him inside you were. Because, god, do they feel so fucking good rubbing against your soft inner walls.
So you kneel down and straddle his face, reverse cowgirl and take his cock as far down your throat as you can in one go. Eddie hardly has time to process what’s happening before your hot mouth is enveloping him and your dripping thong covered pussy is inches from his face. God, he fucking loves you. He takes the hint and laces his arms around your thighs, pushes your panties to the side and shoves his face between your legs, eating your pussy like a man starved. He sucks your clit into his mouth and thrusts two fingers into your wet walls all while you practically swallow his cock whole, your tongue running along the piercings down his shaft with each bob of your head. The sensitivity of the bars on his cock cause him to twitch inside your mouth with each stroke of your pink muscle.
“Oh, yes, so fucking good, such a good fucking boy for me, Eddie. You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” You pull off Eddie’s cock when he adds a third finger inside you before curling them deliciously against your sweet spot while you grind down on his face. His teeth catch your clit and pinch down on it and that’s all it takes a blistering explosion of pleasure washing over your body. Your legs clamp around his head and your hand is squeezing Eddie’s cock so tight he swears he’s going to come right along with you but seconds later you’re lifting off of him and flipping over to kiss him messily. He tastes like you, cigarettes, and sour gummy worms and you wish you could devour him and embed his essence in your very soul.
“I need to be inside you, baby, please.” Eddie whines against your mouth and it makes your clit thump all over again. You straddle him and grab his cock so you can line him up with your entrance and then you’re slamming down onto him until your hips are flush against his. You moan in unison at the feeling of him stretching you out. You can feel each and every one of his cock piercings as your tight walls practically suck him in. “God, you’re so fucking tight, so perfect. You look like a goddamn moon goddess.”
You start to bounce on his cock with reckless abandon. Your pussy is so wet it echoes off the trees and stones around you as your hips smack together with the force of your thrusts. Eddie pushes your shirt up over your head and you reach around to unhook your bra so your tits can fall free. You yank down the zipper of his hoodie and push up his tank top so you can run your nails down his tattooed chest and abs, leaving red marks in your wake.
“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer baby, you gotta come for me.” Eddie groans and plants his feet on the ground firmly while grabbing onto your ass in one hand and finding your clit with his other so he can pound into you deep and fast while rubbing your slick bud. It has your walls clenching around him and it only takes a few more pumps of his hips to have you gushing on his cock.
“Oh, fuck! Eddie, baby, yes, I’m coming - I’m coming!” You throw your head back as you let out these pornographic moans that are like music to Eddie’s ears and your tits are bouncing so beautifully it makes Eddie’s cock twitch deep inside you.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You wrap your hands around Eddie’s neck and lean down to lick his sweaty cheek before running your lips along the shell of his ear.
“Give me your fucking cum, Eddie. I want it so deep it will be dripping out tomorrow. Put a baby in me.” And your words have his balls tightening and his load emptying inside of you while he grips onto your ass with his hips raised off the ground, pressed against yours.
“Oh god, fuck, you’re so beautiful. Gonna give you a baby, anything you want.” Eddie babbles while his dick continues to twitch inside you and he fills you with ropes and ropes of his cum. After a moment he goes limp underneath you and you let yourself roll off of him onto your side with your head on his chest.
“Did you mean that?” Your voice is barely a whisper as your fingers toy with the little initial around your boyfriend’s neck. His large hand comes up to smooth the hair on the back of your head before cupping your cheek, getting you to look at him.
“About giving you anything you want? Even a baby?” You nod up at him with big wide eyes and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute you are. Not very long ago you were stepping on his face and now you’re practically melting in his arms. “Of course, angel. You want a baby?”
“I mean - I know we haven’t talked about it really all that much but -“ Eddie cuts you off with a light shush and a gentle press of his fingertips to your lips.
“Do you want a baby?” His voice is matter of fact and his face is serious, but in a calming way. A reassuring way that feels like a warm cup of Apple cider after getting lost in a corn maze. It trickles down your spine and warms up your insides like sugary sweet liquid in only a way Eddie can.
“Yes.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for months and his face lights up, he flips you over onto your back and hovers over you with that bright, goofy, signature Eddie smile that just makes you melt even more than you ever thought possible.
“Then, let’s have a baby, beautiful.”
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Tagging some mooties who I think might be interested: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @eddiesxangel @gri959 @dreamliners @littlexdeaths @myherometalhead @take-everything-you-can @myspacebrat
Divider is by @strangergraphics
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silent-stories · 9 months ago
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Eddie lives with the fear but also with the certainty that sooner or later you will decide to leave him.
He knows that one day you'll start to see him the way everyone else sees him, that you'll realize that you were wrong about him, that in the end, he really was a loser impossible to love.
It's what almost every important person in his life did, and when he realized that, after so many times, maybe he was the problem, he lost hope of finding someone who wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.
Precisely for this reason every moment, every small action, every detail is so important to him and scares him at the same time.
Because he knows that one day you won't be there next to him in the morning to gently move the curls from his face and cook pancakes making a mess in the trailer kitchen.
He knows that you will stop waiting for him in the school hallway between lessons for a kiss and you will no longer be in his room every afternoon with a cigarette between your lips sitting on the floor in front of him, holding the guitar in his hands.
He knows you won't be at the Hideout to see his band play anymore and he won't be able to make those stupid jokes about groupies and what you guys will do in the backstage anymore. He knows you won't be there to hold his hand when he wants to bring his mother flowers and the cemetery will seem even more depressing without you by his side.
He knows he'll miss falling asleep reading a book while you lie with your head on his chest and waking up with his arms around your body, holding you close. He knows you will no longer play with his fingers during that boring math class, slipping rings off his fingers and trying them on yours every time.
He knows that one day the trailer will seem so empty without your laughter to fill the silence.
"Can I tell you something?" You ask sitting cross-legged on his bed, turning a small bottle of freshly applied black nail polish on Eddie's nails in your hands.
This is the moment you admit that you don't want to see him anymore, that you're breaking up with him. Eddie knows it.
He would like to say no. He wants to say he doesn't want to hear what you're about to say, but he knows he can't.
"All that you want."
"I think I'm in love with you."
Eddie's heart skips a beat. Maybe more than one. He tries to hide the smile on his lips, he can't find a way to do it and thinks the only way is to kiss you.
Maybe he was wrong. He had been wrong all along and you were not leaving him anytime soon.
When he kisses you you don't care that his nails are still freshly polished and will leave stains on your skin and you don't even care when his teeth collide with yours because he can't stop smiling.
The kiss was your answer, he didn't need to say he was in love with you too.
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kirain · 1 month ago
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Emmrich forgetting Rook's birthday and feels guilty so he makes it up to her?
Emmrich doesn't strike me as the type of partner who would forget important dates like that, but what if he simply didn't know? Hopefully this is still a fun read:
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A soft breeze swept through the Necropolis, interrupted only by the crisp snipping of shears. Emmrich, working in peaceful silence, pruned the vibrant flowers that twisted around the graves, their blooms not wild or unruly, but rather tributes that seemed to spring forth in honour of the dead.
Across the way, Vae moved with an elegance he couldn't help but admire. She wasn't simply tending to flowers; she handled each headstone with care, brushing away the dirt and arranging the petals to frame every name.
"You're putting a lot of thought into this," Emmrich said, her quiet reverence bringing a smile to his face.
Vae glanced up at him, a strand of hair falling loose from her tie. "Like you always say, the dead deserve dignity," she said, her voice warm. "It feels right to take my time."
Before he could reply, the sharp echo of boots broke the tranquility. Both turned to see a young courier enter the Necropolis, his gaze uneasy as he scanned the shadowy cemetery; clearly not a local, and clearly unsettled by the view.
"Over here!” Vae called amicably, hoping to sooth his nerves. Quickly, she set her shears aside and wiped her hands on her pants.
"Are you Vae?" The man approached, clutching his satchel tightly. "The, uh... death folk told me you'd be here."
"That's me."
Relieved, the courier handed her a small parcel wrapped in unassuming brown parchment. "This is for you. Straight from Antiva."
"Antiva?" Vae raised an eyebrow as she accepted the delivery, her expression curious.
She couldn't guess what it was or who had sent it, but she had no intention of bombarding the poor man with inane questions he probably couldn't answer. With a grateful nod, she reached into her pocket and handed him a generous tip.
"Th-thank you!" he stammered, tipping his hat. Then he mumbled a quick, "Pleasure," before scurrying off, eager to leave the solemn atmosphere.
"Now, what could that be?" Emmrich asked, tilted his head.
"I'm not sure." Carefully, Vae peeled back the paper to reveal a folded letter and a box of chocolates, the label embossed in gold. "Oh, how nice! It's from a friend of mine in the capital. She sends me these every—" She flinched, her lips curling. "Every so often." Yet she set the package aside without inspecting it further, then turned back to her work. "I'll tear into it later, when we're back at the Lighthouse."
"A friend?" Emmrich pressed, genuinely interested in learning more about the woman he loved. "She must be a remarkable friend indeed, sending you chocolates all the way from Antiva. And by personal courier, no less. That's a costly service. What's the occasion?"
"It's just a sweet gesture," Vae replied with a dismissive wave. "She's thoughtful like that."
Something in her tone gave the fervid necromancer pause. They'd been together for months—he knew her well enough to recognise when she was being evasive, dodging questions. As his eyes drifted to the unopened letter and neatly tied box of expensive treats, a thought struck him.
"Vae... today isn't your birthday, is it?"
She froze, then turned to him with a sheepish smile. "...Maybe?"
"What?" he gasped, his muscles tensing. "Why didn't you mention it?"
"I forgot," she shrugged. "We've been so busy, it didn't even cross my mind."
"Forgot? Vae, I would have—"
"Emmrich, it's fine. I promise," she chuckled, refocusing on the headstone in front of her. "It's just a day, anyway. No big deal."
Emmrich stood in stunned silence, his gaze flicking from the graves to Vae's overworked figure. Then, his jaw tightened.
"No big deal?" he huffed.
With a dramatic flourish, he raised his hand and wove it through the air, as if conducting an orchestra—and perhaps he was. Bones rattled in the nearby pavilion as the skeletons stationed there sprang to life, their fingers deftly strumming the instruments they carried even in death. Soon, a soft, lilting melody hummed through the Necropolis, haunting yet strangely beautiful.
"Emmrich," Vae squeaked, turning to face him, "what are you doing?"
He grinned, the expression handsome, dignified; then approached her with a polished bow. "May I have this dance?"
Vae quivered, pulling away. "But... I'm filthy," she stammered.
"Never, darling. You're radiant as always."
Her cheeks flushed. "And the graves—"
"Aren't going anywhere," he quipped, extending his hand.
Vae stared at the undead ensemble, swithering between disbelief and amusement. But when she looked back at Emmrich—and their eyes met—she sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."
"Is that a yes?" he asked, his fingers beckoning.
"Fine." Defeated, she slipped her hand into his. "But just one."
"We'll see," he teased, gently drawing her into a casual waltz.
With his guidance, they moved in slow, fluid strides, the music wrapping around them like a spell. When he spun her, Vae laughed, the moment surreal, yet undeniably perfect. Though she lacked experience in dancing, Emmrich ensured she never felt out of place, his flow seamless and accommodating.
"Where did they even get the instruments?" Vae asked playfully, gesturing to the breathless band.
"They were donated along with the bodies," Emmrich answered excitedly. "Specifically so they could continue playing after death. It's a Nevarran tradition."
"Of course it is," Vae tittered, relaxing in his arms.
The world around them seemed to fade as he led her through the motions, his hand resting lightly on her waist, their fingers clasped together as they swayed in harmonious circles. The music played on, enchanting and serene—though, after a while, all Vae could hear was the quiet rhythm of their steps, and the steady, calming cadence of Emmrich's breath. His eyes never left hers, his gaze adoring in a way that made her heart skip a beat.
"Manfred?" he called after a while, addressing the curious spirit who lingered nearby. "Can you take a message to the kitchen for me, please? Tell them I'd like some strawberry cheesecake to go along with our tea time. It's Vae's favourite."
The bubbly skeleton nodded and clattered off, his bones clicking as he ran.
"What?" Vae stopped, her brow arching. "Emmrich, you don't have to do that. I know how much it bothers you when I—"
"You've been eating what I eat since our relationship began," he contested.
"You didn't ask me to."
"I know, but you have, even though I can tell it's been difficult for you." He shook his head. "Today is your day, and I want it to be as special as you are."
She opened her mouth to argue, but he silenced her with a kiss—deep, tender, his arms wrapping around her as if to anchor her in place. When he finally pulled away, she looked up at him, her cheeks glowing, pure ecstasy etched across her face.
"Thank you," she whispered, brushing her thumb along his chin.
He smiled. "Happy birthday, Vae."
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hotshotsxyz · 3 months ago
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hi abbie! from the prompt list: buddie, ” i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts." please?
(buddie) (656 words) i have, once again, taken this in what is almost certainly a different direction than intended
“Hey, Shan,” Eddie says softly.
The air is crisp and cold, unseasonably so for early November, but the sun shines bright against a cloudless blue sky. It’s a perfect day to spend outside, and a perfect day to have a conversation he should’ve had years ago.
Eddie brushes a few errant leaves from Shannon’s headstone then sits in the grass beside it.
“It’s been a while since I came here without Christopher. He—he’s so much like you, Shannon, you have no idea. But I…”
Eddie scrubs a hand down his face and sighs.
“I need to talk to you about something else. Tell you some things that I wish I’d figured out a little sooner. Things I wish I could’ve told you face to face.”
Eddie closes his eyes and tips his face toward the sun.
“I still don’t really know how to say any of it out loud, but I’m going to try,” he says.
A soft breeze blows through the cemetery, ghosting across Eddie’s face like a gentle caress. The corners of his lips tick into a small smile.
“I miss you,” he admits. “I miss you so much it hurts. But I… I think you were right.”
This is so much harder than he thought it would be, but every word comes a little easier than the last.
“We were kids when we met. The same age Christopher is now, can you believe that? And we were still kids when we had him. I don’t think either of us really got that at the time.”
Eddie pulls his knees to his chest and rests his folded arms on them.
“Neither of us had the chance to figure out who we would’ve been on our own. These last few months have been the first time I’ve ever even lived alone, you know? And I—I’ve finally realized that I’m not the person I’ve been trying to force myself to be.”
There’s a thread coming loose along one of the seams of Eddie’s jeans. He picks at it until another stitch pops free.
“I’ve been holding onto your ghost almost as long as I knew you, Shan. I think it’s about time I set both of us free.”
Eddie takes a shaky breath.
“I kept you on a pedestal, because if you were the one great love of my life then I wasn’t—”
His eyes begin to sting.
“I loved you so much, but not the way I thought I was supposed to. You were my best friend. Think that might be a thing for me,” he laughs wetly.
“I wish you could’ve met him for real. I think you’d’ve gotten along. And I… I wish we’d gotten the chance to be friends again. You probably would’ve told me to get my head out of my ass way sooner.”
A tear slips down his cheek, followed quickly by another.
“I’m gay,” Eddie says.
It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud. Something that feels like the weight of the entire world lifts from his chest.
“So you were definitely right about the divorce,” he jokes, and then the joke turns into a laugh, and the laugh turns into a sob.
A gust of wind blows, knocking a few leaves loose from the nearby tree. One of them drifts slowly and softly through the air until it lands gently on his shoulder.
“Thanks, Shan,” Eddie whispers.
He sits with her a while longer, long enough for his tears to dry and his thoughts to quiet.
“I’m going to try,” Eddie says when he stands. “I’m going to try to be happy. I promise.”
He lingers a few moments longer, then heads back to the cemetery’s entrance.
Just beyond the gate, sitting exactly where Eddie left him, is Buck. He looks up from his book as soon as Eddie crosses the threshold.
“Ready?” Buck asks softly.
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “I think I am.”
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toulousewayne · 9 months ago
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🌿🍃Toxic Lover: Pt: II
Nightwing X male!reader with a former team who had become Poison Ivy like meta-human.
Summary:Your a former Titan teammate, you and Dick have unresolved feelings and you become infected with the same toxins and chemicals that turned Poison Ivy into a meta-human.
————-
“They Can Bury Us Deep, But We Always Grow.”
Batman sat perched on the rooftops of Gotham. It was a rainy night, much preferred these nights. Most of the crime was kept to the shadows it made it easier for him.
“Batman,we’ve got a problem,”Oracle’s voice filled his coms. “Fill me in.” He jumped off the building and glided north of his location.
——
A man walks outside of the Stacked Deck Bar, and takes a puff from his cigarette. He walks into the alleyway and takes a swig of his flask.
He rounds the corner to see a shadow figure standing before him.
“It’s the freakin’ bat,” he takes out his pistol but it’s knocked out of his grips my a WingDing. The next thing he knows he’s thrown against a nearby dumpster.
“You murderer.” Nightwing snarled at the man before his feet. He kicked him in the stomach, then picked him up and flung him to the other side of the alley.
“L-look I’m sorry about you friend—it’s wasn’t personal.” He’s met with a powerful shock to the gut.
“AHHH-pplease.”
“That’s enough, honey,”A thin cloud of pink and gold mist surrounded the two men, Y/n emerged be held by tree branches pink petals. “It’s good to see you,Nolan wasn’t it. however, the last time we meet you killed me along with your friends.” Y/n grinned. He sported a new pale green skin tone now, his normal (E/C) eyes were a deep emerald. Leaves and vines woven together to map pants and some wrapped around his forearms and torso.
He lowered himself and walked over to Nightwing placing a hand on his emblem. “You know I should really thing you, you allowed me to be a better version of myself,”
“You’re welcome-“Nightwing kicked him in the gut again.
Y/n crossed his arms across his chest. “Though I could have done without the new color. No matter it’s time you answer my questions.” He waved his hand and Nightwing backed away from the goon. Y/n crouched down and blow from his palm, more of the same pink dust engulfed him squared in the face and almost immediately his grimace morphed into a blank stare.
“Now what I want to know two things. What is the name of the scientist that gave you the order to kill me, and last where is Poison Ivy?”
———
The Batmobile came to a screeching haunt behind several police cruisers. He leaped out and walked past the small crowd held back by officers.
A officer lifted a yellow tape and he entered the crime scene. Gordon stood a foot away from two white sheets, Spoiler and Red Robin stood at the bodies scanning them before joining Batman and the Commissioner.
“They two of the best people on the force,” Gordon puffed after taking a drag from his Pipe.
“Any leads?” Batman turned to the two heroes. Red Robin hand him a zip lock bag with several deep green leaves.
“Posion Ivy, she’s been quiet.” Spoiler folded her arms.
Batman walked past them and removed the sheets to observe the bodies. It’s definitely something Ivy could have done but Batman isn’t so sure. He knows that’s she’s been MIA for months.
He rises his head and looks straight ahead. “Gotham Cemetery.” He mumbles. He stands up and walks towards it.
“Is he himself?” Gordon turns to the two who shrug.
Batman enters the cemetery and walks past the stone statues. He moves like a black phantom through out the grounds until he stops in front of what was supposed to be a fresh grave. Red Robin and Spoiler approach and stop themselves.
“What happened?” She questions. Vines and purple flowers grown from the grave and have consumed it. The casket is in the heart of the greenery and is split open. And no body inside.
Batman turned to the two, before worry took over his masked features. “Has anyone spoke to Nightwing tonight?”
“Not since the afternoon, he said he was patrolling the East End tonight.” Red Robin replied.
“You think Y/n did this?” Spoiler looked back at the grave and back to Batman who was practically running towards the entrance.
“Alfred I need to find Nightwing he’s not answering his com links.” The Batmobile came to a roaring stop at the cemetery gates and Batman hopped inside before racing down the street.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been able to locate him Sir. His tracker when down two hours ago.” He sighed.
Batman gripped the steering wheel.”Any last know location.”
“Allow me to check,”Alfred typed a few keys before giving him the last location,”Robinson Park Sir, the Botanical Gardens.” The Batmobile raced and roar onto Pioneer Bridge towards the other part of the city.
——
One man stumbles and falls down a few stairs and coughs. As he runs down a hallway into a warehouse.
“Please have Mercy!” He cries as he ducks behind a crate.
“Mercy,I’ll show you mercy.” A voice boomed in the dark room. The man cowered in fear before he flew back from his hiding spot and was carried up fifty feet in the air. He was wrapped in an oversized vine and was being constrained.
Y/n moved into his view ontop of an another vine and smirked. He had his arm resting on his knee and leaned forward towards the man’s face.
“So sad isn’t it. We take for granted the gifts Mother Nature can offer us,” he plucks a maroon flower from his vine that looks between a cross of a tulip and rose. He twirled the flower and looked back at the man. Before smirking.
“So tell me Wilson, where can I find the scientist?” Before the man could reply Y/n blow on the flower and black particles landed on his face. He started to cough and scream in pain.
“He’s meeting the Boss I don’t know who but he’s meeting him Chinatown. PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!” He screamed in terror before a massive coughing fit and his limbs go limp.
Y/n lowers himself down and allows the vines to drop the body with a loud crack. Nightwing stood a few feet from where the man landed. He stare at him for a while before Y/n came into his view.
“Where are we going?” Y/n placed a kiss to his cheek. Y/n took his leave with Dick in tow.
“To make one more stop.”
——
Batman crashed through the same skyline Nightwing had to find the place abandoned. He took a look around with a flashlight.
He came to a makeshift bed and found the same leaves Red Robin gave him.
He turned on his scanner and turned the leave over. “Alfred identify and breakdown these leaves basic components.”
“Right away Sir. These two leaves have the same trace amount of pheromones. The scanners indicate they are of a stronger concentration. The combination is similar to the lab where Nightwing and is team were a few nights ago.”
Batman turned and looked at the ground. He found a WingDing and a remnant of a sleep dart. The same Nightwing gauntlet. “Nightwing must of found Y/n and tried to stop him.”
Alfred hummed, “Do you think he killed Master Richard.”
Batman kneeled down a traced his finger to find them covered in a green dust. “Unlikely, what happened to him he still cares for Dick.” He stood up and grappled out of the greenhouse. He glides down to the street and gets back into the Batmobile.
“The attack on Y/n in the lab must of caused a biological shock and rewrite his DNA the same way it did Ivy. But what I can figure out is what’s motivate?” He began to drive before another call rang.
“It’s Ms Gordon I’ll patch her through.” Soon the ringing stopped and Barbara’s voice filled the car.
“Batman we found two bodies.”
“Where?”
“One at the Stacked Deck an hour ago Red Hood is on the scene with Bullock. And another at a warehouse at Dixon Docks,Batgirl is there with Robin now.”
“My word, Sir my analysis is completed. There is another drug mixed in that was scanned at the fire. It’s a drug called Tomgenalixe. It’s a substance used in modern day Hallucinogens and can be used to create mind altering effects.”
“Mind Control.” Batman and Oracle reply.
“So Y/n isn’t just killing people for fun, he’s been controlled too.” Oracle took a deep sigh.
Batman gripped the steering wheel.”We need to find them. Alfred can you track Y/n’s pheromones?”
Alfred typed at the Batcomputer. “Sir his tracking is leading to the Diamond District.”
Batman raced back towards the highway. “Oracle take the components of the drugs and chemicals and synthesize and antitoxin. Have someone bring it to me. Alfred, have Red Robin and Spoiler meet me at my location.”
“Working on it, I’ll have Red Hood and Batgirl pick up the antioxins as soon as it ready.” Oracle signed off.
“Sir, when you arrive what will you do?”
Batman didn’t answer as thunder crashed across the night sky.
“I’m going to save them.”
———-
“Where’s my cut?” The scientist hissed at the man in a chair turned away from him.
The man chuckled. “Your cut, you were supposed to bring me a new drug. You burned your research. I can’t get any of that funding back, and now Lex Luthor has questions about fire you caused.” The man stood before as Black Man rises from his seat and the scientist cowers.
“I’m—“ SMACK
“You little runt, you work for me and you’ll get paid when the fuck I say so.” He snarled. He grabbed a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it at him.
“Now get back and figure out the poison, you still have the plant woman in holding?”
“Yes, she’s secure downstairs.” He took the cash. But before he could leave he was kicked square in the jaw and crumbled to the floor.
Black Mask turns to see Nightwing giving his a death stare. “What brings you here?”
The doors burst open with three of his goons with green glowing eyes and Y/n strolling behind them.
“I’m here for a little payback.” Y/n smirked. He outstretched his arm and vines bursts from the floor and tied up Black Mask.
“You crazy bitch I’ll kill you.” Y/n yawned. “Boys take care of him,” he turned to the scientist. “I think you have someone who doesn’t belong to you, don’t worry I’ll kill you when this over just like I did you henchmen.”
“Boss!” The large man who had did most of the damage to Y/n emerged through another door. Nightwing sprang into action and brutal fought him. It didn’t take long before he hit the ground hard.
Y/n crossed the room and stood over the dazed man.
“Remember it’s nothing personal.” Y/n dropped seeds into his gapped open mouth and vines and flower rapidly grew from his mouth and stomach.
“That’s sick.” Black Mask gagged before getting punch by Nightwing.
Y/n nodded and then two armed guards took Black Mask away. The other waiting for them and Nightwing grabbed the Scientist.
“Let’s go.” He barked. Y/n and the other guard followed him. The arrived in a basement that was like a huge underground bunker.
They ventured until the came to a catwalk and bellow was a cell in center with Ivy unconscious.
“Well it seems you’ve severed your purpose.” Y/n turned to the man that uttered the order to kill him and before he could grab him a Batarang nearly took his hand off.
Batman leaped down and glared at the group.”That’s enough, you’ve taken to many lives tonight I won’t let you take more Y/n. This isn’t you.”
Y/n pursed his lips and brief a chuckle. “What do you know about Y/n?” Batman eyed down below and saw Ivy talking almost as a puppet.
“Ivy, you’ve been controlling him from the start.”
Ivy/Y/n chuckled. “I can’t take all the credit you seen when they turned Y/n into this new and improved version of himself. We form a connection, and the more his powers grew—“
“The greater your control became.” Batman finished. Ivy chuckled in her cell.
“He makes a fine successor, does need some weeding but no matter he’ll do fine to kill you.” Y/n caused two large vines to sprout beside Batman who leaped down and landed on his feet. He cartwheel out the way of a shock from Nightwing.
“I know you can hear me, don’t make me have to put down.” Nightwing smirked,”Come and try.” He lunged at Batman and the two attacked and blocked each others moves.
Red Robin and Spoiler crashed the room and took out the guard and Spoiler went after Y/n to jumped onto a moving vine.
“Y/n snap out of it you’re still in there.” She pleaded. Y/n formed another overgrown plant to seat her away like fly. He caused a giant Venus Flytrap to sprout and it held him in place.
“This will be your tomb.” He laughed wickedly.
——
Black Mask stood ontop of the building with rifles at his head.
“Jump.” One order. He moved his leg out to jump before he heard gunfire and the sounds of punches. He nervously turned to see Red Hood and Batgirl.
“I’m saved—“ he was lassoed by Batgirl who tied him to a pipe. Before following Red Hood into the building.
“Hell let me Go!”
—-
Nightwing kicked Batman in the chest sending him stumbling.
Red Robin back flipped out the way of a vine nearly crushing him.
“Give up.” Ivy hissed.
Red Hood and Batgirl arrived. Batgirl grabbed a vine and began to run up it to Y/n and Red Hood leaped down and fired a few rounds at Nightwing which distracted him long enough for Batman to land a punch.
He stagger and when to fight him some more giving Red Hood the chance to fire a dart the hit Nightwing in the neck. He growled before he slowly turned and fell into Batman’s arms going limp.
Batgirl managed to get a clear shot and injected Y/n with large dose. He felt tired fell onto the catwalk, Red Robin check on him before injecting an orange liquid into Y/n arm.
“This will break the connection to Ivy.”
Ivy screamed in pain like a part of her had been stabbed. “You’re going to Arkham.” Batman stood before her and she was about to shout before green mist filled her cell and she collapsed.
“Hey Oracle whip up something for her too.” Batgirl chimed in.
Batman grinned and turned to Nightwing and sighed.
———-
Y/n felt like everything that happened was a fever dream. Killing them men that assaulted him, rising from the dead like an uprooted carrot and his finale fight with the Batfamily.
He sat up with an instant migraine. He rubbed his temples from the bright lights and turned to the side to see a shadow.
“Where am I?” His voice was hoarse and scratchy.
“You’re in Arkham.” Batman sighed and came into the light of the cell.
Y/n took in his surroundings and it was in a cell in Arkham. He was also in hospital gown with a collar around his neck.
“So I’m in jail?” He raised a brow the Dark Knight. Batman took a stance at the foot of the bed.
“Not exactly, what do you remember?” His voice was full of concern and worry. Not the same voice typical of Batman.
Y/n rubbed his temples for a brief movement. “I remember the taxi driver…I vaguely remember two officers and then everything went black. Did I hurt them?”
“They’re dead. Poison Ivy took control over your mind after you transition into a meta-human.”
Y/n felt all the air suck of his lungs. “You’re here because I know you’ll be under careful observation,” he lifted his gaze to the ceiling and Y/n followed. Vents were overhead them.
“This cell is constantly being pumped with an antitoxin that helps with the more advanced powers. It won’t rid them completely but you’ll be in control.” He walked closer to the doors.
“You should be in for a few more days, once that finished I’ll come get you myself. Gordon has already dropped any charges and no one knows Y/n L/N was the new Poison Ivy.”
“Did I hurt him?”
“I don’t know what your—“
“Damnit yes you do. I know I didn’t just kill two people. I hope I can..live with that. But did I hurt him?” Tears formed in the young man’s eyes and streamed down his face.
“No.” Batman whispered.
“Oh.” He wiped his face. “Can I see him?”
“I can’t allow that, you didn’t hurt him but Ivy used your feelings for him to make into your mind-controlled bodyguard. You killed people Y/n…He’s still recovering in the cave. Y/n it may be best to give it time.” Batman exited the cell where Gordon was waiting and the two walked away into the Asylum.
Everything began to flash before Y/n and he flopped back on the uncomfortable cot. Before sleep took him back and he dozed off.
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thedivineart · 2 years ago
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Confirmation Signs To Determine Your Future Spouse
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ꕀ ׅ࣪ ꒰ ✮ ꒱ links : navigation. send love.
pacs. paid services.
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one
wishing well, a fountain, throwing coin and wishing in fountain, unexpected meeting, receiving the most special gift from someone, a lost purse/wallet, climbing alone in mountain to reduce stress/ hangout, being alone without feeling lonely, a dog coming towards you, small home in forest, cross roads, being happy in other people relationship, going to building/institutions to fix legal documents, a friends to lovers trope, visioning your past life, a gallantry from someone, aiming financial achievement, lucky money wins, a nest eggs, flames, mutual feelings with someone, being flirt, co-worker, a new friend, ships, a little home/cottage, new house/places, moving to a new place, soulmate connection, meeting perfect person/ ideal lover, seeing lots of abiding love, wedding, wedding rings, hurt/painful feeling, hospital/doctor, unrequited love
⋆ feel free to ask question you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !
two
changing location whether it is for work or residency, when you heal from the past, starting a new, stork, a invitation for a event, gifts ( receive or give ), helpful advice from someone, receiving lots of good news, a clock/time, your hate and fear towards someone, a handshake, a journey ( travel ), birds, sharing ( partnership), food, restaurant/ fast-food places, notice of correspondence from important bills, writer/ journalist, financial loans/help, being at your lowest point such as feeling trapped/tired/staying at home/unhealthy situation, a friend betrayal, older than you, foreign, lawyer/authority, being attack, an enemy, invitation in weddings or engagements, church, cemetery, thinking negative/ having negative thoughts, a large body of water such as beaches, pools, fountains etc, night, cold weather/winter, locks, fishes, physical union with someone, a mending of broken friendship/ex love, party, clubs
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like or re-blog when you love it !
three
younger, foreign / leader, bad girl & boy image/personality, unexpected kiss, feeling lonely, a new lover/person, family oriented, lady and moody, soulmates connection, unexpected friendship with someone, horse/sagittarius, a good news coming, an artist/poet, student of arts, athletic body or an athlete, lack of focus in commitment, receive or give gifts, fountains, generous, wears uniform that symbolize their position at work, a friend, co-worker, a peer, taking time to heal the wounds of the past, in park, in forest, walking around and meeting someone new, having time alone, wandering in woods, in the big trees, travel, achievement, lucky breaks, successful moving up ( at work or something), the space, distance, someone is far away, delay, receiving love letters and bouquet of flowers, country side, simple life, money surrounds them, professional person, workaholic and less focus on love, a bank; good at handling finances, provides good advice in finance, a happy family, fire/burning, summer, evening, warm weather country, good judgement, social
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !
four
authority, can be foreign, arrogant, weddings, older, negative emotions, large body of water such as beaches, pool, fountains, lake, pond etc, night, cold weather/winter, a dog, a friend, a church, a purse, money, financially stable/ wealthy, office, jewelry box, a social butterfly, enjoy clubs and socializing, likes to be busy and active, wine, travel, trips via water, clouds, heavy rains, good partner, sensual, good at financial advice, an expensive wedding of a friend, children, financially secure, fixing cars, lily, workaholic, trying their best at difficult situation, lion, a Leo sign, quite, electric, jealous and possessive, like to give great advice, streets of gold
⋆ feel free to ask questions you didn't understand in this reading
‹𝟹 leave like 🙵 re-blog when you love it !
© thedivineart. do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform.
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britcision · 1 year ago
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So I’ve been thinking about cultural Christianity lately and how people tend to get very upset about it without really understanding what it is, so here is a primer
Cultural Christianity is not a choice you make. It does not mean you are Christian, or even that you remotely like Christianity; a lot of people who vehemently hate the religion do so because of their own cultural Christianity
It is not a shortcoming, or a moral failing, or a sin. It just means that the culture you were raised in was predominantly Christian.
Note: I did not say “majority Christian”. Christians don’t need to be a majority to have a dominant cultural influence
Cultural Christianity means you inherently understand and probably use swearwords like “damn”, “hell”, or a variation on the name “Jesus Christ”
It means when I say cultural Christianity is not a sin, you understand exactly what I mean without needing to have it explained - and you probably know the phrase “original sin” or “seven deadly sins”, even if not in full detail
It means hearing about Hades, god of the dead, wealth, and volcanoes, and assuming he’s the bad guy of Greek mythology… y’know, like Satan
(EVERYONE went to Hades when they died. The Elysian Fields, where the best heroes went, was in Hades’ underworld. The Eleusinian mysteries, a cult to Demeter and Persephone, was basically about asking them to tell Hades to give you a cool afterlife
And he would cuz he drank his “respect wife” juice if not all of his “respect women” juice. Did still kidnap her. But she is a major feature and often makes the decision herself or influences his when they’re mentioned together
Meanwhile, people try and cast Zeus as a good parent)
It means having to have a dreidel, a menorah, or a kinara explained to you at a time when you already knew about Christmas trees and Santa
(Yes, Santa Claus, Saint Nicholas, major host of the Mass of Christ, is culturally Christian. Even though Coke invented his aesthetic - that’s the “cultural” part)
It’s when you go to make up a new non-religious or pan religious winter celebration… that is centred around a day with family and gifts which is obviously the 25 of December. Maybe counting down 12 days before
It’s defaulting to calling a place of worship you don’t know the name of a “church”
Cultural Christianity is not something people have a choice in; you don’t pick where you’re born, and there are so many other cultures in places like Canada, America, and Britain that are culturally Christian out the ass! But… you will catch Contact Christianity in any of these places
It’s damn near impossible to consume any American or most Western media without brushing across it; cross imagery is everywhere, Christian demons and devils sneak into media all around the world
Western (and some other) Gothic fashion leans heavily on gothic architecture and, yeah, heavily Catholic imagery
Now, brushing across the media in other parts of the world does not impart the same level of cultural Christianity as growing up in a city with four churches on a single block and a Santa Claus parade
And you can grow up heavily in an entirely different culture even in the Bible Belt (but you know what Bible Belt means); you don’t have to abandon all other culture just because Christianity has a chokehold on your home
But when December (or fucking November these days) hits and you hear Mariah Carey in 3/6 stores, yes, you probably have some cultural Christianity
You sure as hell don’t need to be able to name half the denominations (can you name more than 4?), you may never set foot in a Christian church in your life, and still have a cultural Christian influence
If your street names have “saint” in them
If there are crosses or angels on more than half the graves in a cemetery
If you know how to cross yourself but aren’t really sure when you learned; you didn’t look it up or do research to find out
Now note: none of these have an inherent moral judgement attached to them
It’s just about what the culture you live in has taught you about the world, and there’s no culture that is magically the Right One or better than the others
There’s no reason to expect even specifically Christian culture to be the same around the world; it isn’t. It has the same root, but what flowers from the soil is another matter entirely
There is nothing wrong with acknowledging that you have culturally Christian influences and biases; being human is 90% absorbing information from the world around us and half processing it at best - there’s just too much input, and intentionally filtering out Everything Christian Ever?
Well unless you started at 2 years old, odds are pretty good it’s not really a personal choice kinda thing
And you cannot compensate for these influences unless you acknowledge that they exist, that you did not choose to form them, and that you do get to choose how they affect your actions going forward
Christmas stuffed a bunch of other religious traditions into a single package to make itself popular, but if you learned them as Christmas traditions first… do I even need to say it?
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kaijuno · 1 year ago
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Anita Blair was the first guide dog handler in El Paso, Texas, when she graduated from The Seeing Eye in March 1940 with Fawn, a German shepherd. The photo is a black and white photo of Anita being guided by Fawn across a bustling city street in the early 1940s.
Just a month later, Anita and Fawn were crossing a street in El Paso when a car nearly hit her. “Fawn, the fawn-colored German shepherd, with perfect timing checked her mistress’s pace, so that the car sped past without the driver being aware that the young woman could not see,” the El Paso Times reported on April 19, 1940.
Fawn was at her side when she graduated from the Texas College of Mines and Metallurgy – now known as the University of Texas at El Paso, or UTEP – with a bachelor’s degree in 1944. She later earned a master’s degree from Texas State College for Women, now Texas Woman’s University, in Denton.
In 1946, Anita and Fawn were again in the news during a tragic fire at the 23-story Hotel LaSalle in Chicago. According to the June 6, 1946, issue of the El Paso Times, Anita was awakened by screams. “When I opened the door the smoke was so heavy I could taste it,” Anita told the newspaper. “I closed the door but did not want to get Fawn excited. Because of her I remained calm – and probably because of me she did the same.”
Fawn led Anita out the window and down the fire escape – 11 stories down – while the fire raged. Sixty-one people were killed in the fire.
In 1952, Anita became the first El Paso woman – and the first blind woman in any state – to be elected as a state representative. During her time in office, Anita fought for funding for the State School for the Deaf, teacher pay raises, and a bill that allowed women to serve on juries.
Anita returned to The Seeing Eye five more times to be matched with successor Seeing Eye dogs. Her last was Beryl, a black Labrador retriever, in 1990. Anita died in 2010 at the age of 93, and in recognition of her service as a state legislator, is buried in the Texas State Cemetery in Austin.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago
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Regret & Rememberance || Grieving!Ghost
Rating: M + DDNE Words: 2.9K~ Pairing: Gravekeeper!Reader x Grieving!Ghost CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT., death, child death, mourning/grief, canon 09 ghost backstory, dissociation, cemetery/graveyard, graves/headstones. Tags: you/your pronouns, gn!reader, angst, flower language/symbolism, hurt/comfort, platonic relationship. Summary: A hobby of yours causes you to cross paths with an undead man. a/n: for those who care about flower meanings, like me... ;)
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You started volunteering at one of the local cemeteries after putting in a request with the town hall.
It was a simple thing, really. You were just providing extra help to the ground's keepers who did little else but mow the grass, trim the trees and bushes, and blast away leaves and dirt from the headstones and pathways with a hose.
You bought your own supplies with the help of a small voucher the town hall provided you, and then you went and cleaned the headstones at the cemetery.
You quite liked doing it. You always liked cleaning and polishing things until they were squeaky clean. And so, you'd carefully remove moss and overgrowth, and wash the engraved lettering in the old graves, and, sometimes, out of your own dime, you'd use a small paint brush and a little jar of enamel paint to fill in the lettering and make it readable again.
It was a passion project for you; you enjoyed seeing the graves come back to their original (or as close as you could get it) state, and even read up on funeral/cemetery/work/life records at the town hall to find out who was who.
It was peaceful, almost therapeutic. You tended to pick the times when you knew the cemetery would be mostly empty and you'd go row-by-row, eyeing the older graves and seeking out the ones that need caring.
It was during one of those times that you saw him for the first time.
As you meandered about, carrying a small caddie of cleaning supplies in one hand, and pulling the hood of your waterproof parka over your head with the other, you notice him.
It was a very lazy Saturday afternoon. Wintertime, Christmas had been just three days before. The sun was hidden behind dark clouds, giving the cemetery and even darker and gloomier atmosphere, the rain showering down over the entire city of Manchester.
He was tall, so, so tall, and with shoulders so wide and arms so thick, even below the hoodie he's wearing... And yet he looked so small, as he looked on at the graves at his feet...
You knew those graves, you'd memorized the majority. It was the Riley family. A really big tragedy, a recent one, just the year before, on Christmas Eve. The news had said the house burned down because of a faulty heater, and killed everyone, including a little boy.
You settled at a grave not far from him and regarded the man with knitted brows, trying to sneak a glance under his hoodie, maybe catch his eye, and offer him a smile and some courage... But underneath, he might was well have been a void.
The dark clouds and atmosphere only made it that his face was nearly completely shrouded in darkness, and the dark scarf wrapped around his neck and hiked up to cover his nose and mouth certainly didn't help.
You knelt by the grave you were going to clean and began removing the cleaning supplies from your caddie, grabbing a small bench scraper so you could remove the moss growing on the front face of the grave.
But before you began, you couldn't help but sneak a glance at the man again. He must have felt watched, however, because he turned his head toward you and from underneath his hood, all you saw were a few short blonde hairs peeking out.
You tried to do exactly what you intended, offering him a small smile and a nod... And then turned away to properly working, trying to give him space, or respect... You tried. Really. But... something about him... In less than a minute, you looked over again.
And he was gone without a trace. Looking around, you saw no tall, dark figures speed-walking away.
For some reason, a chill went down your spine when you noticed you were alone again... Almost like he had been a ghost, a figure of your imagination...
-
You saw him a lot more times after that. Or, at least, you were pretty sure it was a Him. Or, at least, you were pretty sure it was a Him.
You'd arrive and he'd already be there, almost like he timed it perfectly every time.
Never a word exchanged, though you looked at him from a distance and, sometimes, he looked at you too.
He'd always leave a small flower arrangement between the center two graves. Purple hyacinths, white chrysanthemums, and black dahlias.
And then he'd leave not long after you arrived.
Sometimes you wondered if you being there made him leave... If he wanted to avoid being there when you were, to avoid being stared at. But you couldn't help yourself from staring.
Truth be told, you'd go long weeks without seeing him, but he'd always come back...
And when he did come back, he'd come pay the graves a visit multiple times a week for a few weeks...
Whenever he wasn't there, you dared to venture toward the grave and gaze upon, especially right after he had left... And you'd pay you respects to the family buried there...
-
Sitting in the public library attached to the town hall, you carefully combed through the cemetery records of the last year, with a hot tea beside you.
Riley. There it is.
Obituary notices for five members of the same family, on the same date.
Joanna Riley, née Pearson, aged 57. Thomas Riley, aged 33. Beth Riley, aged 32. Joseph Riley, aged 4. and Simon Riley, aged 37.
Two mothers, and their three sons. An innocent child in the middle of it all. All killed by an accidental fire, with a starting point on a faulty heater, right before an important holiday.
Their obituaries said that Joanna had worked in a textile factory for most of her life, Thomas was a cook at a restaurant, Beth was an esthetician and Simon was a... soldier.
You looked at the pictures attached to the obituary, of each of them... So alive, so... free. Pictures taken from Facebook profiles or school records, in Joseph's case... All of them with big happy smiles...
Joanna had big eye bags, but she had wrinkles in the corners of her blue eyes, and deep smile lines, like she'd spent a lifetime laughing... Her hair was already fully grey, cut into a bob with a fringe.
Thomas was thin, and had prominent cheekbones and a dip in the cheeks themselves, as well as deep eyebags with bulging eyes, but a surprisingly pleasant smile on his face. He was a blonde.
Beth's picture showed that her nose tended to scrunch whenever she smiled, her dirty blonde, nearly brown hair, was hair tied back into a bun and a fringe falling over her blue eyes.
Little Joseph had a toothy grin and was wearing a school uniform, his blonde hair swept to the side by a comb and his blue eyes sparkling... You found your lip trembling at the thought that, perhaps, that was his first day of kindergarten picture...
And, lord, Simon Riley... He was halfway through winking when the picture was taken. He had the warmest brown eyes and the smuggest little smirk on his lips as he held Joseph in his arms, whose face had been partially cropped out of the picture, but clearly was mirroring his uncle, while holding a little teddy bear with a blue bow around its neck.
It made you sad, to see those pictures. Sadder than when you researched all the other graves' you've cleaned. Many of them included children too... But something... something about those kind faces...
-
You couldn't help but wonder who he was.
Maybe a family friend?
A distant cousin?
Maybe someone from Beth's side of the family, since she's a blonde and the stranger is too?
You hadn't dared approach him, striking a conversation but you were so full of questions.
Was it wrong to be so curious about a stranger who's only at the funeral to mourn and pay respects? (Definitely.)
You wanted to ask him everything.
Who is he?
Why does he come visit at the worst times and days, when it's rainy and dark, and empty?
Why does he disappear so often for weeks at a time?
Why does he keep coming back?
Someone had to pay for the funeral arrangements, after all... Maybe it was him. Maybe he's family.
Why else would he casually drop £200 worth of arrangements on the graves every time he comes?
...
Truth be told, you hadn't seen him in nearly two months. It was the longest it'd gone since coming to visit.
Around Christmas of the following year, and he hadn't come to see the graves... and you knew that for certain. Not only did you not cross paths with him, but there were no flowers at the graves.
Could it perhaps be that he's trying to move on?
Or maybe something happened to him?
You hated to think of the possibility that the stranger could've given up, moved away, or died himself.
Worse, it made your heart ache...
So you made a choice. One of those times before you went in to clean another grave, you stopped by the florist around the corner.
Dropping nearly as much money as he usually did in a gigantic arrangement, a couple of candles, you wobbled into the cemetery again.
-
Simon Ghost sat on his bed in the shitty flat he was renting from a nice old lady who didn't ask too many questions.
It was barely a flat, more so a cramped tin of sardines that the council allowed to be called a 'studio' because it had enough space to fit a bed, a counter, fridge and stove, and had an attached bathroom.
He had just gotten clearance from the military hospital to be able to walk around without his crutches and just his cast boot, and good thing too.
Christmas had been days ago and he hadn't gone to visit the graves just yet... he could feel the need to see them scratching in the back of his head, trying to get out, digging into his bowns..
After succeeding in tying the laces on his regular boot, he pushed himself up to his feet, a bit shaky and unsure as he attempted to shift his weight around.
But, after succeeding, he wobbled over to his small wardrobe, grabbing his usual hoodie and scarf combo, pulling them on.
He pondered about opening a window to air out the flat, the scent of hair bleach and chemicals still lingering in the air... But he decided against it.
He left the flat and locked the door, then carefully limped his way to the bus stop beside his block of flats.
...
It was already getting dark when he made it to the cemetery and past the gate, carefully limping his way to the graves.
He looked around the graveyard with narrowed eyes, seeking you out. He wondered if you were around, if you were also looking for him, or if you didn't even notice he had been gone.
Had he still been Simon, he would've already gone up to you, struck up a conversation... and he would now too, joke about how he'd been 'slacking off', mutter some nonsense of 'working hard/hardly working'...
And yet he wasn't Simon.
'Simon' was buried in the grave he was going to now visit and, unlike the rest of the Riley family, he was getting no pity.
Not like mum, Beth, Tommy and Joseph... And yet no one but Ghost was ever there to pity them, to mourn them. And once he was gone, no one would even remember them.
They deserved better than what they got. They didn't what happened to them. They didn't deserve a death that gruesome...
And t was thanks to Simon that they were dead in the first place. He didn't deserve any pity.
Ghost would not mourn Simon. Ever.
...
And yet, as he approached the graves, the large arrangement he always brought with him, tucked under his arm, Ghost stopped in his tracks.
A beautiful light arrangement sat in the same exact spot he usually placed his own... right between Tommy's and mum's headstones. It was light and feminine and... cute. A stark difference to his own, dark and moody.
He crouched in front of the graves, setting aside his own arrangement and, very carefully so, running a trembling hand over the petals of the flowers. Fresh, not just from the recent rain, but from being a recent addition. Maybe only a day or two old.
A mix of pink and white carnations, an overwhelming amount of baby's breath, and some kind of herb stems wrapped around them.
Carefully, Ghost plucked one of the stems of the herb and brought it up to his nose to smell it. The scent of chemicals from his hair bleach didn't make identifying the scent any easier, but, after a moment, he realized it was rosemary.
Rising to his feet and looking around once more, Ghost sought you out again, trying to find the sight of you hunched over, scrubbing away at one headstone or another. No sign of you.
Looking down at the graves again, his eyes got drawn to something out of the corner of his eye. A small statue that had not been bought by him, leaning against Beth and Joseph's shared grave.
A brown ceramic teddy bear... with a baby blue ribbon around his neck.
Just like the one he'd bought in a Poundland when coming back from deployment, in a hurry, after Tommy had called him to let him know Beth had gone into labour... not wanting to show up empty-handed at the hospital.
It had become Joseph's favourite toy, he'd sleep holding it, would drag it along behind him as he learned to walk, and would take it to kindergarten every day.
"Fuck..." Ghost hissed as he fell to his knees in front of the graves, his fingers digging into the wet grass and his eyes closing as his whole form was racked by sobs.
-
You didn't know how long he'd been there. But he was soaking wet, dripping all over, on his hands and knees, hiccuping and crying at the foot of the graves.
You noted the way his leg was in a cast inside a black boot, which helped ease your worries that he hadn't given up on coming, he'd just been unable to for a while.
Swallowing your fear, you bounded up to him, holding your umbrella protectively over the two of you as you stopped by his side.
He looked the smallest you'd ever seen him...
Taking a deep breath, you slowly crouched beside him and placed a hand on his broad shoulder, feeling him shudder, his breath hitching, audible even through the wind and the aggressive pitter-patter of the rain on your umbrella.
"Breathe... It's okay..." You murmured as you looked at him. "Breathe."
The man took a deep, ragged breath, shuddering with each one, his arms, impossibly strong, trembling and struggling to hold him above the grass which was now essentially more mud than grass.
"I'm sorry if I overstepped." You murmured and tilted your head so you could peek below his hoodie, to check on him.
Bad choice on your part, because only then did you notice that his scarf had been loosened by him, to allow him to breathe, revealing his face.
He was deformed, badly so. His cheeks were hollow and cut through by a jagged Glasgow smile, and his skin so red and blemished, you'd think he had been burned alive at one point in his life.
Those were no ordinary scars... from a small injury, or an accident... They were too precise, not random... Those were... inflicted on him.
He didn't reply, nor did he try to cover his face or turn away, he just shuddered more, hiccuping and sniffling amidst his tears.
"I hadn't seen you in a while..." You told him gently. "I was... worried that you'd never come back." You admitted. "So... I figured I should look after them for you."
He gulped, audibly so, deep in his throat. For a while he didn't speak though his lips pushed and pulled like he was chewing on his cheek, looking for how to answer.
"Thank you." He murmured, his voice gruff and raspy, the words sounding like they had been eating away at him, gnawing at his bones.
"Do you... want me to toss it all out?" You asked slowly, watching as he thrashed his head side to side and sniffled again, hissing through clenched teeth.
"N-No..." He replied and took a hulking breath, like it was the most difficult thing he'd ever done.
"Okay..." You added and nodded solemnly. "Want me to help you up... because of your foot?" You offered.
"No... I've got it." He added with a nod and swallowed the lump in his throat as he closed his hands into fists to keep himself from lying on the dirt.
You paused and looked between him and the graves. "I'll leave you be, then..." You replied and turned to collect your cleaning supply caddie from the path beside you...
Only for one of his hands to suddenly catch your bicep and stop you, which caused you to freeze. "Stay..." He pleaded as you slowly turned to face him again.
His face was turned toward you as well. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, his nose had a deviated septum, and his whole face was riddled with scars and blemishes...
And yet those brown eyebrows of his... and those brown eyes... the way they stared at you... Sorrowful, afraid, hurt but... warm... You remembered seeing them, in that fucking obituary notice months ago...
Sure he was a blonde and very deformed but... this was Simon Riley.
You were looking a dead man right in the eyes.
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extasiswings · 1 year ago
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Idk what this is but those new stills hurt all three of my feelings so have some angst.
“I don’t understand what happened to us. I don’t understand what changed,” Buck says, and Eddie freezes.
Because he knows. He knows exactly. Every big moment they’ve shared, the beautiful and the terrible, and all of the little ones in between exist in the back of his mind in one giant tapestry of memory. A pulsing, bleeding heart of a thing that he tries not to look at too closely because the fact that it is always there, so close to the surface, never letting him out of its thrall is sometimes more than he can bear.
It’s been years. Eddie’s gotten very used to being in love with Buck. Quietly, achingly in love with Buck, knowing he can’t have him but not being able to stop. Loving Buck doesn’t feel like a choice, it’s just a fact of his existence, rooted so deep and taking up so much space that Eddie can hardly recall being without it, the person he was before—before Buck, before LA and the 118, before tsunamis and shootings and lightning strikes. There are days when loving Buck overwhelms. When he can hardly breathe for the all-consuming nature of it. When the want is so fierce that he can taste it on his tongue. Most of the time though, it’s manageable. Like a radio on in the background, volume low enough that Eddie can ignore it. He can be almost clinical about it: fact—he is in love with Buck, fact—Buck is never going to love him back. It’s been years, so Eddie knows exactly how to handle these inconvenient truths, knows how to handle himself, has gotten used to them. He never expected anything to change, assumed that nothing could surprise him after so long.
But. Buck stood next to him in a cemetery and started talking about a woman he had only just met—a stranger—seeing him, understanding him like no one else, and Eddie—
Something in him broke. Some fragile bit of hope he hadn’t even realized he was harboring shattered, the shards slicing him to bloody ribbons.
And all he could really think was, Enough. Enough now.
Things changed then. He’s changed. Their relationship has changed. And he’s been telling himself that’s a good thing. It’s good, necessary even.
But Eddie doesn’t know how to deal with this. He doesn’t know what to say when Buck is sitting in front of him asking about it point blank while looking like a kicked puppy.
Part of him is angry. He resents being in this position, resents how long it’s taken Buck to say anything, resents knowing he can’t explain himself without revealing things he never wanted to. Mostly though, he resents the fact that after months of work—drawing a line in the sand and dating someone else, pulling away in an effort to establish real boundaries that might let him move on—he is still as much in love with Buck as ever.
Mostly though, he’s just tired.
“We’re still friends, Buck,” Eddie finally manages to say. “That hasn’t changed.”
“But something is different,” Buck insists. “If—you would tell me if I did something, wouldn’t you?”
Eddie drags a hand over his face, resisting the urge to touch his chest where a dull ache has bloomed behind his sternum.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he replies. It’s not an answer, not to the question Buck actually asked, but it’s as much of one as Eddie thinks he can give. And it’s the truth—Buck hasn’t done anything wrong. It’s not a crime not to love someone.
“But—”
“Buck.” Eddie’s tone snaps, raw and sharp and jagged. It sounds foreign to his own ears, an unacceptable loss of control, but he is fraying badly at the seams and needs out of this conversation.
A stricken look crosses Buck’s face, and Eddie forces his voice to gentle as he quietly adds, “Please.”
Please drop it. Please don’t push. Please don’t pull this thread.
Please let me go. Just let me go. Please.
Silence stretches between them for a long moment as Buck’s eyes scan Eddie’s face. But finally, as if he heard all the different things packed into that one syllable, Buck nods once.
“Okay.”
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liliesofeden · 11 months ago
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Celtic cross in Lakeview Cemetery. Photo by me- do not repost without credit.
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