#I GET IT i get it i understand BUT. wailing and sobbing and beating the ground with my fists. SO MANY BOOKS NOWADAYS ARE JUST. SO DISJOINTED

[writing-fanics]

Nothing lasts forever

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: cheating: angst: panic attack: implied death]

‘More than anything music box’

As you stood there, your heart felt as though it had stopped beating at that very moment. Your breathing started to slow down as your smile faltered and transformed into a frown. A look of profound sadness and sorrow took over your face as you gazed at the scene before you.

Your eyes were fixed on Lucifer, one of the most beautiful angels in all of Heaven, the one you had opened your heart up to and shared your deepest feelings with.

But now, you were witnessing him cheating on you with Lilith, the first woman and Adam's wife. The pain you felt was almost unbearable, as you watched the love of your life betray your trust and shatter your heart into a million pieces.

You could feel your throat closing as your breathing quickened. You felt sick to your stomach as if someone had punched you in the gut. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to scream. To cry, to disappear from existence. You couldn’t believe he’d do such a thing to you, were you not enough?

Were you not as beautiful as she is? Were you too clingy? To annoying? Why did he betray you and your trust?

He promised to always be by your side when you needed him, to always catch you when you fall. To be your shoulder to cry on. To never break your trust.

But here he was breaking that very promise and trust, leaving you feeling empty and hollow. The two of you were made for each other, and with the scene unfolding before you. Made you think otherwise.

“I love you, Lilith,” whispered Lucifer, as he stared at Lilith in awe kissing her on the lips.

Your whole world shattered as your back hit the tree, and you slid down onto the ground. Placing your hand over your mouth, muffling your wails. You couldn’t breathe and felt the world closing in on you. You were nothing to him. You sniffled quietly placing your head into your hands, and wept as you swiftly flew away.

You fell into a heap on the floor of your house, sobbing as you curled up into a ball. You saw everything and what you saw would forever be engraved into your memory, you’ll never get it out of your head. Seeing them like that, him like that with another woman. Made your stomach turn, how could he do such a thing to you?

“W- Was I not enough?” You whimpered, as you lay in the fetal position. Your face is red and puffy cheeks stained with tears, your heart aching and unbearable pain. You knew he felt what you were going through at this moment, and couldn’t care less to comfort you. Your love was bound and could feel each other's emotions when they became severe, and you knew for a fact he could feel it.

But didn’t care enough to comfort you. He was having too much fun with Lilith, doing things that he should only be doing to you his lover.

You thought he would never do such a thing to you. Never betray you and break your heart, and here he was ripping it right out of your throat. If he had noticed you would he have stopped? Would he have kept going? Taunting you, teasing you, on an act he’d never done to you. Such an act he’ll never do to you now.

You thought your relationship was good perfect even. Yes, you had the occasional fight but would always end up back in each other’s arms, holding each other lovingly. Feeling safe and secure in each other's warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry, my dear duckling," he whispered, pulling you close and showering your shoulder with gentle kisses. "Please know that I understand how you feel.”

"I forgive you, Luci," you said, enveloping him in a warm embrace and smiling through your tears as he held you. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead and whispered comforting words in your ear, promising to make things right.

You banged your fist against the cold ground; gripping at the fabric of your clothes, as you cried. The tears didn’t seem to stop and wouldn’t anytime soon. You couldn’t breathe, the room around you started to spin. You felt dizzy and nauseous, feeling bile rising in your throat causing you to gag. You swallowed and gripped the side of your head.

You tossed it to the ground, screaming and crying in anger and frustration. “HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME!” You shouted, trashing everything that reminded you of him. You couldn’t stop crying, the things this man did to you. How he made you smile and laugh, how he made you fall head over heels.

You wanted to disappear and fade back into dust, your original form. To not be forced to live with this pain for all eternity, knowing that even after this you’d still love him. He’d come back and apologize slowly making up for it but…..

You stood there with the other angels, his siblings trying their best to comfort you. As you watched him be banished from Heaven, cast down with his new lover. Leaving you there alone in Heaven, with no shoulder to cry on.

You found yourself standing amidst a group of angels, feeling a sense of unease and trying hard to keep yourself composed. As you looked ahead, you noticed him standing before Lilith, his wings stretched out protectively, shielding her from any harm. The sight of him being so close to Lilith made your heart ache with a mixture of emotions.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were so unpleasant to look at that he couldn't even spare a glance in your direction. The whole situation left you feeling conflicted, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Lilith, who seemed to have his undivided attention.

As you stood there looking at him, you noticed that his gaze had shifted to meet yours. It was then that you saw a hint of remorse in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. In that moment, a single tear trickled down his cheek, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation.

As you looked away from him, he noticed the tears that had welled up in your own eyes, and the hollow, defeated expression etched on your face. It was a moment of deep emotional turmoil for both of you, and the silence that hung between you was almost suffocating.

“Nothing lasts forever,” Azrael said, as he placed his hand on your shoulder squeezing it gently in reasurrance.

You shook your head and stepped outside of the courtroom, stopping at the stairs. You reached around your neck taking off the necklace, Lucifer had given you years ago.

You stared at it for a moment, opening it. A soft melody played, tears trickled down her cheeks as whisps of yellow magic swirled, around the locket music box. A duck swam in a pond while a swan, swam up next to it nuzzling their heads into each other.

As she witnessed the heartwarming scene unfolding before her, she couldn't help but let out a choked sob. A tearful smile graced her face as she watched the duck and the swan gradually transform into Lucifer and You, respectively. The two characters held each other closely, their embrace exuding a sense of comfort and security.

Lucifer, still holding onto You, took to the skies, flying around with exuberance. His laughter filled the air, and his smile was contagious. You, too, shared in his joy, reveling in the moment with him.

As they soared through the clouds, a vivid memory of their first kiss flashed before your eyes. You remembered how you had wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, and he had held you close to him. The moment had been magical, and it was a memory that you cherished deeply.

You smiled, closing the locket as a gust of wind blew the magic away, and you along with it, returning back to your original form to dust.

A/n: idk what I just created there’s no part ii for this unless y’all beg me for it but idk still]

Taglist

@froggybich

[saturnville]

more jude fics I beggg

where do we go?

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc warning: angst content: she finds her way to his house after midnight with no other thought besides where they move forward from here. reference: where do we go by andra day an: engagement is always appreciated, and highly encouraged. I hope you enjoy <3 tags: @mauvecherie-writes @emjayewrites @neewrites @saintslewis @boujiestpoet @vile-harlot @greedyjudge2 @cocobutterqwueen @cosmic-parker @blueaetherr + let me know if you want to be added/removed!

It was past midnight. The dark sky cried bitterly, its tears streaming down in sheets, drenching the earth below. Loud wails and heavy sobs shook the ground. Who was she missing? Perhaps the sun, her lover who disappeared for hours at a time. Warming her atmosphere for a few short hours before abandoning her for the light sky, leaving her cold and lonely in his absence,

Evelyn Alena watched the winding road intently. Her bright headlights cut through the blanket of rain. The storm's weight felt so heavy, so consuming, that it was suffocating. Her hands twisted around the steering wheel. Her knuckles turned white as she focused on an unknown destination; her eyes narrowed against the glare of the rain. 

While consciously, she had no destination, her heart had directed her brain to follow its created roadmap. It had driven her there, through familiar pathways and past streets with cars against the shoulder. It pulled her with a force she couldn’t name but couldn’t resist. 

The rhythm of the windshield wipers played a steady beat against the haunting melody of the storm. Thump. Thump. Thump. Clashing thunderclaps caused a sudden dissonance in the rhythm of nature. She jumped in her seat. She should go home, she told herself. There was still time to turn around and go home before it got too dangerous. But she kept driving. Her car moved slowly and steadily through the rain, hissing as it passed the large puddles at the road's edge.

Then she saw it. At the corner of the street, where it’d always been. Sitting pretty, strong in stature. An inanimate memory, holding safe the love she had wrapped in flesh. She hesitated, foot hovering over the brake, heart pounding in her ears. She made the turn.

Woodman Ave.

Familiar ground. Echoes of old footsteps. Laughter still lingered in the corners. She could almost see her and Jude walking those sidewalks, playing ball in the backyard (though she wasn’t very good), and throwing water balloons at each other during family cookouts. She could see the love between them. She blinked, and the ghosts disappeared.

She pulled into the driveway slowly. Her fingers switched the light, which let the house rest in darkness. Her breath hitched. Had she made a mistake? She couldn’t get in her head too much. She’d already made it this far.

She got out of the car and closed the door quietly. Within seconds, she was drenched. Yet, she didn’t move with urgency. One foot after another, she counted how many footsteps it took to get from the driveway to the front door. 15. 

She lifted her hand to knock but hesitated. What was she so afraid of? She’d already driven to his house during a storm, soaked her clothes like a child, and stood in front of his home. What more was there to be afraid of? 

She gulped. One knock, two knows, three knocks. Silence. 

The knock was quiet. Soft. Like whispers of the leaves during autumn. The door opens slowly. Her former lover, groggy from sleep, caught her silhouette through blurred vision. He blinked a few times. Evie. No words followed. She stood before him as her body shook, shivered, and quaked, evidence of walking in the rain. His eyes met hers—a moment of true recognition and understanding. 

Jude stepped aside, inviting her in. She stepped into the house slowly, water leaving her wake. There were no words to say. He stood behind her, his bare feet damp with rainwater, and peeled the wet coat off her shoulders. He tapped her hip twice, nodding toward the bedroom. 

She shuddered as she stripped out of her clothes. Each article hit the floor with a plop. She stared at herself in the mirror--bare-bodied, bare-faced, and bare-souled. What was she doing? A soft knock caught her attention. 

Without much thought, Jude cracked the door. She didn’t mind it. “Some clothes. Towel for your hair. Another towel for your body...” He handed her a pile of neatly folded clothes. They were hers. Her favorite was an oversized Avengers shirt and old college sweatpants. The towel was a gift from him. Black and microfiber to protect her hair. She wanted to smile. He never got rid of her stuff. 

Her eyes met his. He was tired, but so many emotions were swirling in his chocolate eyes. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make it out.

“Can you…I’m so cold,” she finally spoke through chattering teeth. Jude stepped into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him as if someone would follow. The black towel was thick and heavy in his hands as he wrapped it around her body. She let out a deep breath at the warmth. 

He took the head towel next. He wrapped it around her head, securing it with the string and button. He nodded once. “You okay?” She nodded back. “I’ll leave you to it.” With her damp clothes in his hands, he turned.

He said nothing further when he left. She slid the shirt over her body and shoved her feet into the pant legs. She sighed heavily. 

Her movements were slow as she opened the bathroom door and retreated downstairs. There were perks of living in a small home. Everything was easily accessible, and anyone could be easily found. His body was still against the couch. His finger drew circles around the rim of the pristine water glass, but not once did he pick it up. 

“Feel better?” He asked without turning around. She gulped. Her head bobbed as if she was seen. Her feet shuffled against the tile floor as she circled the couch and stood off. 

Burning ahead was the fireplace. Snap. Crackle. Pop. It warmed the living room and brought light to the desolate atmosphere. “Uh, yeah. Thank you. Room for another?” He lifted his arm, and she slipped under it; she was in her rightful place. 

Silence consumed them. There was much to say, but neither knew where to begin. Evelyn lay on his chest, her eyelids heavy and her vision blurred. Her body shook as it tried to regain its equilibrium from being chilled by the rain. Anxiety-ridden, she was. Nervous and unsure. Yet, the sound of his heartbeat, strong and steady, grounded her. 

Evelyn missed being so close to him. It felt like years, but it had only been a few months. There was a familiarity in how he held her near. Close and comfortable like she’d never left. Her mind raced with questions. Why was she here? Why’d her heart guide her to him?

Jude’s fingers traced absent-minded patterns on her arm. She wanted to ask if he missed her if he thought about her as much as she did him. But the words caught in her throat, held back by an unspoken agreement to simply exist, kept her from complicating it.

The storm began to die down. Violent winds and heavy rainpour tapered into a soft drizzle. It mirrored the quiet between them, a peace settling over the room, though the quiet tension lingered beneath it all. The fire continued to crackle in front of them.

“Jude...” she finally whispered, her voice hardly audible above the fading storm. But she didn’t know what else to say even as she said his name. There was no need. He responded with a quiet hum, his fingers pausing briefly before resuming their familiar dance on her skin.

They lay there like that for what felt like hours. The weight of everything unspoken hung between them, but neither felt the need to break the silence. It was a moment of comfort in confusion. Neither was sure where they would go, but basking in each other’s presence was enough.

[latenightdaydreams]

Pretty please, May I request König finding the reader shoved in a corner having an anxiety attack?

My anxiety has been really bad this month, and I feel like if I got a really big hug and just be held to someone's chest so I could hear their heartbeat, it'd do me wonders 🥲I'm lame I know🥲

You're not lame at all! I'm sorry to hear that your anxiety has gotten worse this last month. I hope things begin to turn around for you💖 I'm sending you all the virtual hugs💖

Comfort!König x Reader

Fluff💗

Master List

>cw: anxiety attack

.

.

After getting no response from you while on his lunch break, he decided to just rush home to make sure that you’re okay. Upon opening the front door, he’s greeted with loud wails from upstairs. Moving as fast as he can, he climbs the stairs, skipping a few with every step.

“Schatz?”

König calls out as he opens the bedroom door to see you laying on the cold wooden floor with your hands on your face. Your body trembles as your breathing shudders. König instantly drops to his knees, reaching out with one hand to stroke your back. He rips his sniper hood off of his head and tosses it down.

“Schatzi. I’m here.” König keeps his voice steady while his heart is breaking seeing you like this.

“No! Go back to work.”

Your voice trembles as you cry out, too ashamed to even look at König. You’re aware he has taken off time from work to be here, making the guilt of needing him constantly weigh heavier on you.

“Baby, bitte. Come to me.”

König knows you don’t really want to push him away, but at the moment, you feel like a burden. Having PTSD himself, he genuinely understands you. He knows how it feels when the entire world seems to crash down around him, so he’s always promised to be your safe space to ground yourself. In no way does he ever view you as a burden. Work used to be his whole world, but now he has you. You’re more important.

“No! Go away!”

You scream out between sobs. As the anxiety builds, you move your hands to your ears in an attempt to block him out. Your head shakes back and forth as you struggle to catch your breath.

He looks down at you with a deep sorrow in his eyes. “Come to me, bitte.”

König gently scopes your body into his arms, not waiting for you to deny him again, moving you so effortlessly against his body. He stands with you and walks to the bed, sitting you on his lap. The warmth of his body helps relax you, allowing your body to melt into him. One hand grasps the fabric of his shirt as you bury your face in König’s chest.

While he has you on his lap, he cradles you gently. He gently kisses the top of your head and rocks you back and forth. You zero in on the rhythmic sound of König’s heart beating against your ear. His deep breaths move your body up and down. Slowly, you mimic his breathing, your body no longer trembling.

As König notices you beginning to relax, he speaks in a quiet voice, telling you how much you mean to him in a broken mix of German and English. The rumbles in his chest as he speaks adding to the calming effect König naturally offers you. He’s the home you’ve always needed but never found; until now.

“Schatzi, Ich bin hier.” He whispers again to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out small and broken.

“Never be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

König tilts your head to face him. His pale blue eyes relax as you gaze into them, a small smile on his thin lips. Your beautiful lips and eyes are puffy from all the crying you’ve done today. He reaches out with one hand and wipes snot from your nose, rubbing it off on his pants. That gets a giggle out of you, causing König to chuckle along with you.

“Was?”

“That’s gross.”

“Nein, you’re my Schatz. Boogers don’t bother me.” He says in a playful tone.

After some giggles, there is a moment of silence between you two. His eyes slowly tracing over every detail on your face. He leans in and kisses your forehead, nose, and then lips. The kiss lingers for a moment before he quickly places another.

As he pulls back, he lets out a pleased hum. One of your hands reaches up to brush back his messy blonde hair as he gazes down at you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.” You say quietly.

“Is there anything you need right now, Schatzi?”

“Just this. Please.”

“Anything for you.”

[socialc1imb]

*gripping the new au tightly* oh no, oh no not again. Fuck. Guess I don't need sleep. I need to make art. I got to hear more about Soul's reaction, or Mind waking up after having just been shot and being like "well shit what do you mean this didn't go according to plan?"

Will I be scouring this for as much angst as I can possibly create, yes yes I will. Time to draw some stressed Heart after hearing Mind scream from the pain. Bullet wounds are no fun, even less fun to pull the bullet out if it gets stuck.

Soul's immediate reaction? Fucking fury.

The vessel had always scared Heart. Soul could be bitterly vicious and stern, violent when he needed to be, and he had only gotten worse in the past two dozen loops.

To think that he had once been considered a friend was a foreign concept. He hadn't been a friend in a long while, much less anything at all. It's true that he had given up trying, and it left him naught but more than a shell of an already incomplete man.

Yet, this shell's anger was a palpable force, bringing an already trembling Heart to his knees with just a vicious glare.

Mind—oh Christ...Mind—moaned softly from where he lay in a pool of quickly growing navy blood. He writhed and cried out, clenching at the hole he had helped Heart rip into his chest, and clean through, for good measure.

This is for the best. This is going to fix it all, Heart had to repeat to himself, as he apologized over Mind's pained screams and moans. Now, as Soul moved steadily towards him, the trident scraping against the ground, screeching as the heavy metal prongs dug triple divots into the hard flooring, Heart repeated the words. Over and over again, This is for the best. We fixed it, this is going to work.

There was no hesitation. No pause. Not even the decency to ask 'what have you done?' like Heart had anticipated to hear.

No. No, instead, Heart was met with the sole of Soul's converse slamming into his nose.

Heart screamed, begging Soul to 'WAIT—!'

Soul did not, in fact, wait. He kicked Heart back down when the half tried to sit back up, ignoring the way Heart held his hands up in surrender.

"Soul! No, please! You have to understand—!"

He could taste his own blood in his mouth. Soul had surely broken his nose. Mind wailed somewhere in the distance. Heart's ears were ringing.

"Please, Soul! It was our plan! We had to—"

Soul slammed his foot down on Heart's ribs, pinning him to the ground. Heart gasped, feeling something in his chest crack and bow. His heart skipped a beat and pounded erratically. Heart sobbed and begged Soul to listen.

"Soul—!"

The back end of the trident was sharp, and you'd never have expected it until it was used on you.

Heart screamed, arguably louder than Mind had, though it was hard to tell, as Soul had effortlessly flipped the trident around backwards and plunged it into his face. By the time Soul was gearing up for the next eye, Heart was already screaming.

He lost consciousness mere seconds before the trident touched his other eye, though the pain was not lost in the swirling oblivion.

[grandlinedreams]

Uwahhh you write law so perfectly!! You’re writing is *chefs kiss* 💞💞 the amount of comfort that radiates from the way you write this nerdy emo doctor …. I die Everytime !!

If I may request- you don’t have to do it!! But- how would law react to a reader that’s easily jumpy, a little over emotional… but is super unfazed by gore/horror? Like they would be one of the wholesome sweetest persons on the crew, practically clings onto Bepo everyday- but will watch law go nuts with his DF powers and they’re super fascinated?? He holds an organ, a heart, in the palm of his hand? They will watch!! Plays around with his medical tools in his lab? Suddenly screams at a small bug sighted?? Law is confused… but kinda curious too

UWAH I’m rambling but I wish you the best of days today 💞💞 thank you and stay awesome !!

Whdhdhs please don't die but also thank-you!! And woeodjdjd i hope I can do this justice!!

[Heads up!: mention of insects/arachnids, mention of the Rocky Port incident, but otherwise fluff!]

There's something crawling up the back of your neck. Thread thin legs splayed across your skin, the creep of movement making you freeze, chill traveling down your spine as you bite back a whimper.

"Hold still."

Fingers graze your skin, curling ㅡ and then Law is pulling the culprit away from you and tossing the insect into the plush grass nearby.

"Thank-you," you say, audible relief in your tone even as you sweep your own hand against your neck and then over your hair, a wave of self-conscious paranoia sweeping over you. Once your check for more creepy-crawlies comes up empty, you relax.

Law watches you, gaze following as you pull ahead of him, apparently now unbothered by your momentary ordeal for the way a smile tugs at your lips and you hum.

You're an enigma to Law. He likes to think that he has something of a talent for figuring people out especially the longer he's around them, but it's been the better part of a year since you joined and Law is no closer to understanding you.

There's your fear of bugs and other multi legged creatures, which Law understands even if he thinks it a little dramatic for a pirate to be reduced to tears over something so insignificant as a spider.

Speaking of tears, you'd cried just the other day ㅡ over a book, no less. He hadn't been able to understand a word you were hiccuping into Bepo's fur, only that the mink was doing his best to comfort you as you sobbed.

"[Name]," Law tries, resting his hand on your head tentatively, "it's just a book. Being upset about something as trivial as thatㅡ"

"It isn't trivial," you wail into Bepo's fur, "I've spent six books getting to know these characters and now they're dead!"

Inwardly, Law can't blame you. He's found himself emotional several times over Sora Warrior of the Sea comics, but the fact that you're clinging to Bepo trumps that empathy for reasons he doesn't want to analyze just yet.

And then as if to throw him for another loop, there'd been the entirety of his stunt at Rocky Port ㅡ given your outbursts with other things, he'd thought you would regard him with horror and disgust the way others did. He is the Surgeon of Death for a reason, after all.

But you don't.

You don't bat an eye at the dozens upon dozens of little blue cubes, each containing a living, beating heart. At one point you pick one up, watching it pulse in a steady rhythm.

"Huh," you say, "so that's what it really looks like?" The reverence with which you both talk and looked at the heart almost makes him uncomfortable.

"Captain," you say, pulling him out of his thoughts as you fall back into step beside him, "I was wondering if I could stop at that bookshop we saw earlier before we leave."

"Maybe," he answers. "That depends. Are you going to cry to Bepo again when something happens?"

"That was one time, forever ago."

"That was last week, [Name]. His fur was soaked for hours." There's something akin to amusement and fondness for how you blush at his teasing, pride in being able to get under your skin.

There's a lot about you that Law doesn't quite understand ㅡ at least, not yet. And truthfully, he doesn't mind when it means he gets to find out.

[cliophilyra]

14 and 19 for the intimacy prompts! xo @hardly-an-escape

Initimacy Prompts

@hardly-an-escape & @bidisasterevankinard chose almost the same ones (14 & 19 and 13 & 14) so I have combined them! Thanks guys for the prompts - sorry it has taken sooo long!

This is a little bit sadder than I planned but I hope it's sweet enough to make up for that.

13 - Cuddles

14 - Sharing drinks

19 - Back scratches

Updated version now on AO3! I would definitely recommend reading that version instead.

Buck smiles softly as he opens the sliding door to their garden and takes in the view. Tommy is sitting in one of the reclining yard chairs Buck convinced him to buy once they’d made the neglected yard into somewhere they might actually want to spend time. Tommy had rolled his eyes at the garden furniture and planters, hummingbird feeders and climbing plants, but he spends more time out there now than Buck does. His eyes are closed and Buck is pretty sure he’s asleep in the fading evening sunshine. There’s a book on his chest and a bottle of beer half-drunk beside him, condensation pooling on the table below it. Buck’s heart feels several sizes too big for his chest.

Part of him doesn’t want to wake his boyfriend but today hurt more than any day for a long time, and he needs him more now than he can resist. He crosses the yard, carefully swinging a leg over Tommy and sitting down in his lap. Tommy starts awake, his hands flying to Buck’s hips as his eyes snap open.

Buck smiles down at him. “Hey baby,” he says softly, leaning down for a kiss.

Tommy kisses him back fondly, “Jesus christ sweetheart,” he laughs, shaking his head.

Buck runs his hands over his chest, feeling his heart thumping under his palms. Alive. “Sorry,” he says softly.

“No you’re not,” Tommy laughs, leaning in for another kiss.

“Mmm,” Buck picks up Tommy’s beer from the table and takes a long pull, giving him a show as he tips his head back. Condensation dripping from the base of the bottle to run down the neck of his shirt.

“I think that’s mine,” Tommy smiles, reaching up to take the bottle back. He takes a mouthful himself before putting it back on the table and pressing his lips to Buck’s throat, chasing the drops of water down to his clavical. Buck hums, shifting in his lap. “Get your own,” Tommy says with a smirk, moving his hands down to grip Buck’s ass in both hands. Buck moans softly against his neck. Half of him very much wants to just follow where this going but the moment he closes his eyes he’s back there. His breath catches and he stills, breathing in the scent of Tommy’s skin as he tries to push the feeling down and fails, shaking in his boyfriends arms.

Tommy’s hands still immediately and he reaches for his shoulders, pushing him back gently. “Sweetheart?” he says and the concern in his voice is all it takes to bring the whole terrible, horrible, not good day welling up in Buck’s chest. His lips flatten into a line as he tries to hold back the tears.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened?”

“It—it--it was, fuck--,” Buck swallows hard. “There was a woman...she was with her kids...in a car.” He leans forward again, resting against Tommy’s chest, closing his eyes as he listens to his heart beating steadily under him. He feels Tommy nod in understanding.

“She didn’t make it?”

Buck shakes his head, feeling the tears start, damp spreading through Tommy’s shirt under him. He can still hear the cries of the kid, the inhuman wailing as he and Eddie dragged him from the mangled wreckage, away from his mother’s body. He gasps, choking on a sob as Tommy’s arms wrap around him, drawing him closer. He presses his face into his chest, twisting as if he could merge himself into Tommy, make himself a home inside him.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, he knows enough to know there’s nothing he can say. Instead his fingers trail up and down Buck’s back, blunt nails scratching gently over his shirt, soothing and slow.

[serickswrites]

Electric Feel V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, electrocution, drowning, rescue, cardiac arrest, cpr, mcd, hurt/no comfort

Something was different. The world was hazier. Things were slower. Whumpee knew they kept missing things. That there was a gap in their awareness.

They went from laying on the ground to being back in their chair. Whumper was talking to them, but the words weren't computing. Whumpee could hear, but not hear. Something was wrong. They couldn't get a good breath. Couldn't clear their dizziness.

Hands. There were hands on their cheeks. Gentle, soft hands. Caretaker? Was Caretaker here? Was this their brain hallucinating?

"Whumpee, Whumpee," Caretaker sounded so far away. "Baby, keep your eyes open. Eyes on me, Whumpee."

Caretaker? When?

"I've got you. I'm going to get you out of here, Whumpee. Just hold on."

Whumpee liked the sound of that. But they weren't sure they could. They were so tired. Everything hurt. They couldn't breathe. Everything felt wrong.

"No! No! Hold on. Whumpee, keep your eyes open!" Caretaker sounded desperate.

Whumpee wanted nothing more than to sink into the awaiting darkness. But Caretaker's words had them hesitating. Caretaker. They couldn't leave Caretaker. They tried to swim up against the encroaching darkness. Tried to claw their way back to awareness.

But they were so tired. They tried to tell Caretaker they were sorry. Tried to tell Caretaker it was ok. Tried to tell Caretaker they were just going to rest their eyes. That they needed a moment. But they couldn't get enough air. Their chest hurt. Their heart skipped a beat as suddenly Caretaker's face was close to their own.

Caretaker's lips moved, but Whumpee couldn't hear. Caretaker would understand. They just needed a moment. Just a moment.

***

"No! NO! Whumpee, baby, please!" Caretaker begged Whumpee as Whumpee's breath went out in a sigh, their eyes growing empty and glassy.

Caretaker checked Whumpee's pulse, knowing what they would feel. Or wouldn't feel rather. "Come on, baby. I'm here. I'm here. I'm right here. Please, don't do this to me."

No beat came.

"NO!" Caretaker began compressions. "Please, come back, baby. Please. I am sorry I am so late. Please, Whumpee!"

Caretaker begged Whumpee to breathe. Begged Whumpee's heart to beat. They were here. They were right here. They had found Whumpee. They couldn't be late.

It had taken Caretaker a few days to find where Whumper had holed up with Whumpee. Days of torture for Whumpee. They had broken down the door to Whumper's torture chamber just as Whumper was shocking Whumpee.

Caretaker saw white as they watched Whumpee's body jerk and shake with the electrical current. They rushed Whumper, beating Whumper. Kicking Whumper. Doing everything they could to make Whumper feel the pain they felt. The pain that was but a shadow of what Whumpee had endured.

And now as they pumped Whumpee's chest, desperately trying to get Whumpee's heart beating again on its own, Caretaker realized they were too late.

Even if they had arrived in time before Whumpee's heart had stopped beating. Whumpee still endured days of torture. Days of pain. Days of suffering.

"You're too late," Whumper chuckled from the corner where Caretaker had restrained them. "Their heart gave out. It was only a matter of time. They've lasted the longest of my toys. But they all break. Eventually."

"No!" Caretaker said with renewed determination to bring Whumpee back.

"Come on, baby. Come back to me. I'm here. I'm right here. Please. Please don't leave me."

But as Caretaker pumped and pumped and pumped, Whumpee didn't take a breath. Didn't gasp for air, eyes suddenly growing bright once more. Their head mere jostled with the compressions, eyes remaining open and glassy.

"No, Whumpee! God! No, please!" Caretaker sobbed.

It didn't matter. They were too late. With a keening wail, Caretaker stopped their fruitless compressions. Stopped and took Whumpee's lifeless body into their arms. "I'm so sorry, baby. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Caretaker sobbed into Whumpee's hair as they held Whumpee close. Though Whumpee's heart had stopped beating, Caretaker was sure theirs had stopped that moment, too. Because they couldn't live in a world without Whumpee.

Tags: @freefallingup13@st0rmm@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire @firelan @artisticdemon

@backbreakpin

[jacksdinonuggets]

~Lost And Found~

-Summary: Vaggie after the fall, gets found by Clara. she slips due to the pain but luckily Carmilla takes pity on her and gives her hospitality

Notes: I think vaggie is my favorite character now....

also, requests are still open, you can send an ask if you want to see vaggie suffer more and get comfort. or if you just want to see some fluff

The pain in Vaggie’s eye and back was pure agony. Breathing was difficult without spiking pain in her back. She wished she hadn’t gone to heaven. If you were one the seraphims or God couldn’t decide where to put you, you could choose to be an exorcist or go to hell. Now Vaggie was really regretting her decision. 

As she crawled over to the dumpster, more pain ran throughout her body. Her breaths were ragged and heavy. She groaned as she forced herself to sip upwards. Her mind was starting to process what was happening. She was a bit slow in things and couldn’t process events until long after they happened. Realizing how heaven lied to her, how many souls she’s killed, and how many people she hurt, she let out a pained sob. She was a monster. She’d only kill so Adam wouldn’t beat her and instead praise her for her “amazing” work. Realizing how she’s been manipulated, she started to slip. No, not literally. Slip into her weak headspace. Littlespace. 

She let out a wail as more pain, mentally and physically, flared up. She wasn’t able to mask as easy when she was small. If she felt like crying, she would wail her heart out. And unfortunately, that was happening.

“Hey, are you okay?” someone came running up to her. The person looked around and saw golden blood leaking from her eye and back. She saw her torn wings on the ground and the… stabbed eyeball. The person almost puked just looking at it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Vaggie whimpered, screwing her good eye shut, ready for it to end.

“Mama! You need to come see this!” The person shouted, trying to alert the attention of someone else.

Another figure came running over. She was tall, had ballet shoes and her hair was put up so it looked like horns. Once she saw the golden blood, she pulled the other girl close to her.

“That’s an angel, Clara, leave it to die,” The woman spat. Vaggie just cried louder, knowing her inevitable death would be painful instead of quick. The scene made the woman, Carmilla, feel a bit weird. Weren’t angel’s supposed to be tough?

“I’m sowwy! End it ‘wuick, pease!” Vaggie begged, not being able to stop her babyish lisp from coming out. 

“Mama, she needs help. She’s clearly fallen. The exorcists left over 3 hours ago. Plus, only angelic weapons can hurt angels. Maybe she rebelled against them?” The girl, Clara, told her mother.

“We can perhaps return her to heaven and see if she really did fall,” The mother said. That freaked Vaggie out. Adam was going to kill her, torture her, do anything to her. She couldn’t bear it.

“No, no, no! Don’t send me back! Adam’s gonna huwt me, again!” she cried.

This piqued the mother’s interest. Adam was hurting his exorcists? Maybe this girl was worth saving anyways. Besides, this girl clearly was not in a big headspace, she would have to take care of her.

“Fine. We’ll patch you up and once you’re feeling better, you can tell us the whole story,” The women picked Vaggie up and started to carry her away. Vaggie muttered “I’m sorry,” over and over again during the walk back to their house.

“I understand that you’re sorry, you need to stop over apologizing, child,” She told her. Vaggie shut up but still let out a few whimpers due to the pain she was in.

During the walk, Carmilla couldn’t help but feel empathy for this girl. She probably did something like spare someone's life and they did this to her? It was cruel. The girl wasn’t a killer. Well, not now at least. She tried to ask the girl a few questions like her name, what happened, and what age she was feeling. She didn’t get much of an answer to the ‘what happened’ question but it did sound like she spared a soul and was really sorry for the whole extermination. 

When they got to the house, Carmilla set her up on one of their guest beds before grabbing a first aid kit from the bathroom. The poor girl seemed to be shaking as she patched up her eye. She had to clean her back and knew it was probably going to be painful. She gave affirmations while Vaggie yelped in pain from the wet rag cleaning her wound. 

Vaggie seemed to calm down when she began to bandage her back. However, the calmed silence was interrupted as Vaggie squeaked before hunching her shoulders and softly began to sob. Carmilla was facing her back and didn’t know what was going on. So she got up and went to face vaggie when she saw it. The girl had an accident.

“I- I’m sorwy, I didn’t mean to!” she cried. Carmilla should’ve been prepared for this. The girl was feeling very much in the baby range. These were bound to happen. So she quickly called odette into the room.

“Mija, go to the store and get some overnight adult diapers. Little one probably won’t be able to move much and it’ll be safer to have more absorbent ones,” Carmilla handed the blonde girl a fifty dollar bill and sent her off.

She didn’t know why but she felt this sort of weird connection with this angel. It felt like she was caring for her daughters when they were younger again. It got her feeling all maternal.

After undoing the bandages on her back, she carried to the bathroom and ran the bath. 

“M sowry,” Vaggie said once more.

“It’s okay sweetie, accidents happen,” 

Carmilla felt a lot less aggressive and assertive towards Vaggie as she bathed her. The girl was in so much pain that it was practically impossible. She probably in a lot of mental pain too.

Washing Vaggie’s hair was a bit hard because she couldn’t get the bandage wet. But she somehow managed to do it. 

When Carmilla carried vaggie back to the room, she saw that the bedsheets were replaced and a bag of diapers, a bottle, and a stuffed bear waited for them on the bed. Odette must’ve seen what was happening with the girl’s headspace. The bottle was also full with warm milk too.

After changing her into some padding, a big pajama shirt to act as a nightgown, and new bandages, she set her in the bed and began to help feed her the bottle. Carmilla smiled. It’s been awhile since she’s done this but it felt nostalgic. She loved caring for her girls but they were all grown up now. It was nice to be able to care for a baby again.

Before long, the girl had fallen asleep with her new stuffed bear cuddle to her chest. No doubt she was exhausted from the pain she endured. Carmilla tucked her in and left the room. The next day was going to be tough, but she would have to push through it.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞 ✿

@junerixi asked: This is just angst.. Maybe comfort but you decide.

You know how Venti took the form of his friend? Well what if he thinks the reader likes him just for his looks? I've been thinking about it for quite a while..

My brain stopped there, I can't think of any other words to describe it without me getting second hand embarrassment..

characters: venti x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, reverse comfort, body dysmorphia, existential crisis, venti having doubts😢

notes: sorry i took so long to respond junie😔 but here it is, a venti fic for the number 1 venti simp. also i’m finally clearing my inbox so keep the requests coming y’all😤💪

beautiful melody and soft singing can be heard whenever you enter your home shared with your loving bard of a boyfriend. however today the home you’ve shared together was eerily silent. no humming, no snoring, no stringing of the lyre. just complete hollow silence.

“hummingbird? darling, are you home?” shrugging off your outer layers and walking to your shared bedroom, a faint sniffing can be heard from the cracks of the door. it was so silent and miserable as if the person crying inside was trying to hide away from the whole world.

stepping inside your shared bedroom, you saw a small ball, curled up under the covers, shaking and twitching violently. cooing soft reassurances under your breath, you moved to hug his curled up body, laying behind him and pulling him close.

whispering soft praises, understanding words and humming a song that the bard made only for the two of you, you gently kissed where you think his forehead would be.

after some time of just simple laying there, humming a song, your lovely bard peeked out from under the covers. his puffy red eyes and pouty lips staring up at you.

“d-do you love me sniff as for who i am, [name]?” shattering the poor fragile heart of yours with that question, venti only managed to whisper his doubt out loud.

it was no good. he will always be a thief, a liar, a fake, a disappointment. he will never be venti. he will always be the tiny, helpless elemental being who watched as his only friend got shot through his heart. he will always be the empty husk of a being which never had a body to call his own. he will never be venti. just the simple, pathetic, weak, nameless, hopeless elemental-

as if sensing his swirling mush of dark thoughts, your warm hands wrapped around him tightly. pulling his head to lay over your chest, feeling the warmth of your skin, hearing the heart beat in your chest, feeling the life you breathe.

and the dam that was putting his facade of a happy-go-lucky bard broke when you simply whispered his name with love pouring from your soul. clinging to your clothes tightly, wailing and sobbing out loudly like a child. begging for you to never leave him, never let go of him, never stop calling him by his name. only then did the bard understood. how could he not when the truth was out in the open, bare and naked all along?

yes, he is venti. your venti. and he will always be your beloved bard, venti.

[ivanttakethis]

End of Round 7 - Tov’s Log

Daiki (57) vs. Tallis (42) - Daiki Win

————————————————————

Someone screamed.

A loud, piercing wail ripped from the depths of a soul consumed by sudden and overwhelming grief.

It didn’t sound human.

It sounded too human.

It took Tov a moment to realize she was the one screaming.

She couldn’t stop— didn’t want to stop.

Tov wanted to scream until her throat burned raw, until she damaged her vocal cords and could never sing again.

Maybe then this never ending nightmare would be over.

Her heart had been torn from her chest, weakened but still throbbing in pain. She fell to her knees, aching to the very core of her being.

Tallis was gone. Tallis was gone.

An hour ago he’d been alive.

Tov had held his face in her hands, looked into his eyes, and told him she loved him. That was the first time she’d told anyone.

And then he said he loved her too.

And now—

Now there was a bullet in his chest.

They shot him the same way they shot Stasya.

Tov screamed louder. She tasted blood in the back of her throat.

She covered her ears to muffle to sounds of the crowd. She didn’t want to hear their manic, bloodlust-fueled cheering. It made her want to rip something apart with her teeth.

There was a heartbeat pounding away in Tov’s head, but it wasn’t hers.

It was Tallis’s.

His heartbeat was always steady, but it had a different rhythm than hers or Himei’s. She would know it was his by the rhythm alone.

But that heart didn’t beat anymore. It was just a memory.

Now everything about Tallis was a memory.

His voice. His eyes. His constellation of freckles. His love for instruments. His comfort. His warmth. His understanding.

All of it was just gone.

Hot tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks unbidden.

She choked on a chest racking sob, curling further in on herself. It sounded strained, hoarse from lack of use.

When was the last time I cried?

When was the last time I was in this much pain?

Never.

Never.

She tried to close her eyes, but all she could see was his face. Up close. Close enough to count his freckles if she wanted to.

Tov always knew Tallis would take a piece of her heart when he died. This felt more like half.

A gentle hand rested on her back. Tov saw red.

She whipped around, baring her teeth and ready to snap, only to find Cassio kneeling beside her.

They had shifted their form slightly, more human sized than usual. The sadness in their eyes struck her hard.

“I’m sorry, Tov.”

Tov tried to speak, but her throat was thick with tears. Her vision blurred again. She collapsed into her guardian’s arms and sobbed.

Cassio held her tightly and stroked her braids in an attempt to soothe her. Their efforts were in vain. The comfort only made Tov cry harder.

There was movement around them. People were probably staring. It didn’t matter.

None of it fucking mattered.

Tallis was dead.

She’d believed in him. Just like she’d believed in Azure and Moran and even Stasya. And they were all dead too.

Her belief in their ability to win was a fucking curse.

Why hadn’t she seen the pattern before?

Every time she thought someone would win, they always lost.

Every time, except—

“Himei—” She gasps.

Tov felt sick to her stomach. Himei was in one of those pods for the other contestants. She’d had a front row seat to watch Tallis die on that stage.

Oh Himei… I’m so, so sorry.

She pulled away from Cassio to seize them by the shoulders. “Where’s Himei?” She asked frantically. “I need to see Himei.”

Tov saw her wild expression in the reflection of Cassio’s milky white eyes.

They spoke in a very measured voice, like they were trying not to spook a feral creature, “We should get you home.”

Cassio reached out for her but she knocked their hand away, her anger flaring hot.

“NO!” Tov shouted, voice sharp.

They reeled back, a look of disbelief etched into their human-like features.

It was the first time Tov had ever yelled at them. It was the first time Tov had yelled at anyone.

“I’m not leaving here until I see Himei.” She said, her chest heaving hard and fast. “Where is she?”

Cassio grimaced, but relented with a sigh. “Himei had to be dragged away from the stage… and she bit a guard.” They said. “She’s been collared and placed in isolation.”

…

Oh.

Fuck.

Tov vomited all over her shoes.

————————————————————

Tallis is gone y’all. My heart hurts 😭

Round 7 emotionally devastated me so bad it took longer than I wanted to write this. But I’m kinda glad I waited because I got to read Himei’s reaction to the round and add Tov’s reaction to Himei in this log.

Also, Tov and Himei’s similar reactions to Tallis’s death were NOT planned. @lookatmysillies and I just share the exact same braincell lmao (kind of iconic, actually).

There is something very funny about two beautiful models known for being pretty chill absolutely flipping their shit because their emotional support harpist lost to a morally questionable lesbian.

Anyways, congratulations to Daiki (I say with tears in my eyes).

And please check out this lovely art of Tov by @rockwgooglyeyes! (tw: blood)

Tallis and Himei belong to @lookatmysillies.

Daiki belongs to @daiki1k.

Azure ( @azureitri ), Moran ( @geospiral ), and Stasya ( @billwasnot ) are once again haunting the narrative. (Lmk if the tags for these posts get annoying, I just try to credit everyone’s ocs that I mention and these people meant a lot to Tov so they come up often)

[skeletalgoats]

Unforgivable Accidents

Synopsis: Roach said and did things the other day without thinking when he got drunk, and it now will forever haunt him

TW: Mentions of alcohol and drugs, no good ending, death (A slightly brutal one too 🤷‍♀️)

A/N: I was about to do this with Gaz or price but I wanted to see my favorite character suffer 🙌 Also I lied to my mutual saying that I was gonna make a good ending but I'm gonna make some Roach fluff as an apology for this lmfao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡♡♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night wasn't looking very pretty.

At all.

You really don't know what you did wrong either.All you did was ask if he was alright.

But you guess the problem was probably you then.

"Do you ever shut your mouth for once?! I Don't see why it matters to you, useless bitch." Roach spat at you.

You kept on telling yourself that everything is alright, he's just drunk.

What happened to him???He was normally so sweet??Let alone the sweetest person you knew….

Maybe he just needed some understanding?

"Roach, look, I'm really sorry for bothering you, but you need to calm down and tell me what's wrong.You're just drunk."

But at that exact same moment, he crossed the line, losing it.

"You could drop dead right now, and I wouldn't care.It would be nice to have your mouth shut for once."

"What?"

"You heard me, Fucking kill yourself."

You had no words.The sweetest person in your life telling you to die didn't really seem right.

"Roach, please let me hel-"

You were interrupted by a coffee table being thrown at your face, and you didn't realize how much of a bloody mess your face was until you collapsed onto the ground and hit your head against the wall, painting it red.

The next thing you knew, you were being punched in the face by him, falling unconscious.

When you woke up you were still in the same place where you were beat up.Looking at the time you saw that it was 2:24 in the morning.Turns out Roach really didn't bother helping you out.You sighed and tried getting up, but you couldn't move without feeling a massive amount of pain, you fell back and sat there for a moment before starting to cry when all the emotions that you felt before return back to you tenfold.

Your cries turned into sobs, and your sobs became mixed with your wails of pain as you struggled to breathe.

As you tried calming yourself down, you found it harder and harder to breathe.

Desperately, you use all your might to get up and grabbed some pills and water, hoping it would help with your breathing.

You grabbed the bottle and without thinking, you downed the whole thing desperately along with the water.

You noticed this stinging in your throat as your mind went foggy.

You tried getting up, but you couldn't move.

You tried screaming for help, but you couldn't make a loud enough noise from the panic and strong emotions.

You tried thinking of what to do desperately, but the only thing filling your mind were the last things Roach told you.

"You could drop dead right now, and I wouldn't care.It would be nice to have your mouth shut for once."

Panic filled your mind as you felt helpless, until everything went black.

The next morning, Roach wakes up to find that you weren't in bed next to him.

This slightly concerned him.Maybe he was too harsh?After all you only meant well….and he was drunk, hopefully you could be understanding, right?

As Roach got out of bed and got ready, he wondered what to say, until he got hit with this bad feeling in his gut, but he brushed it off, assuming that he was being dramatic and you were perfectly fine making coffee.

Walking downstairs he began to speak.

"Hey, uhm about last night…I just wanted to-"

He froze as he looked up at you, turning as pale as a ghost.

"No...No No NO!"

He rushed to your side in seconds, shaking you while hoping that you would wake up.

"Hey, hey!Are you alright?!...Please....wake up....I'm sorry....please don't leave me...."

He began laying you onto the ground and performing CPR, but no avail.

His eyes darted around the room looking for something that would help.

Spotting the phone, he dialed an ambulance.

As you were put on the stretcher and and drove to the hospital, Roach was filled with regret and grief, begging for you to be okay.

In fact, he would give anything for you to be alright.He would sell his soul....hell, would even sacrifice himself for you.

After waiting out of your room for hours, a nurse walked out and spoke the last words he wanted to hear.

"We're sorry, but they couldn't make it."

In that moment he could not except the fact that he just lost the most important person in the world to him.

You were dead.

You died because of him.

Because he was drunk.

Because of some stupid alcohol changing how he acted that night.

And he will forever regret it and mourn your death...

[i-didnt-do-1t]

Day five of @ailesswhumptober

Overstimulation/migraines- “I can’t take this anymore.”

cw violence

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

The farm had always been quiet, Oscar remembered that much; their da had been the loudest thing on it, their ma a close second when they got in their arguments. Or when she had one of her episodes and was screeching, all loud and high pitched and Oscar had plugged his hands against his ears and told Morris to do the same.

Apart from that, and the animals sometimes early in the mornings, the farm was quiet. Oscar had liked the quiet.

.

.

A kid was crying on the other side of the bunkroom and it felt like there was someone with a hammer on the inside of Oscar’s head hitting against the curve of his skull. The waves of pain reverberated like it was an echo chamber, each one worse than the last. And the kid wasn’t stopping, these awful loud choking sobs that seemed to catch in his throat till he was near hyperventilating.

The beds were creaking too, their shitty broken frames whining and gurning when anyone shifted, folk trying to bury their heads into the thin mattresses to block out the crying; attempting to get some sleep at least before they were woken up while it was still dark out and marched down to The Refuge’s resident chapel room for morning prayer.

Oscar was going to kill someone. Maybe himself.

Then the crying quietened for a second, and he exhaled a breath of relief into the brief near silence, only interrupted by the rare unavoidable sniffle or cough or wheeze-

Then another sob. Louder than the last. A proper heartbroken wail like they weren’t all kids abandoned here by shitty parents who didn’t want them no more.

Oscar shifted and dragged a hand down his face. Jesus Christ.

It wasn’t that other boys didn’t cry, of course they did, and often enough Oscar had been the cause of it. But they did it quiet, knew the beating it would get them if Snyder heard, with his sharp smile and light eyes dancing with amusement as he watch some poor wee fucker suffer under his orders.

Beyond that it was embarrassing. To be a boy in here and crying. Grow the fuck up.

People stuffed their knuckles in their mouth to dull the sound of the sobs, like Kelly was known for doing, or buried their faces in the shitty mattress to disguise the sound.

Not this fuckin’ kid apparently. He had to be new.

Another fucking choked up self-pitying sob-

“I can’t take this anymore.”

Morris lifted his head from the mattress just enough to look at him through bleary,half asleep eyes, hair mussed up from sleep, then dropped his face back into the thin sheet Snyder called a blanket. The bed creaked.

Oscar felt ants under his skin.

“Get him to shut the fuck up then.” Morris muttered in response, quiet but vitriolic.

It was all the encouragement that Oscar needed to shove himself up, feet hitting the cold dirt and dust of the refuge floor; there was a slight jolt of satisfaction as some of the other shuffling across the room quietened with his movement.

Oscar had built a reputation here. He knew that, sometimes he let himself revel in it. But it was always useful on nights like tonight, nights where everything just gets too much and he can’t understand why, head pounding and the feeling of his blood moving in his veins and his heartbeat in his chest and the rough fabric of the sheets and his skin on his bones and the inhale and exhale of people breathing, so constant and unrelenting and he felt like he needed to peel the skin off his body, turn his bones inside out, the constant fucking crying-

He’d lashed out before he finished the thought, it was second nature. He shoved the sobbing kid from his bed to the floor. He landed with a thud.

“Shut the fuck up.” It was a low hiss. “Jesus.”

Even through the dark he could see the kids eyes were puffy and red, and he could feel the stares of everyone else on them in a way that made his hair stand on end. He flexed his hand to try and work out someone of the restless energy.

“Fuck off.” The kid spat back at him, voice rough like sandpaper.

That was all it took for Oscar to launch himself, fist curled.

He lost himself in it for a moment, the distraction of knuckles hitting skin and drawing blood and bouncing off bone over and over and over until the crying stopped and there were suddenly hands on his arms, his shoulders, hauling him off and dragging him back and his knuckles burned white hot, bloody. He could barely feel it for all the adrenaline coursing through him.

The hands on him felt like they were burning his skin, each inch of flesh that wasn’t his own made up of pinpricks.

“Get off me-“

The lights in the room, dim and cold, switched on suddenly.

The pool of blood really looked like blood now, red, and seeping into the wooden floor instead of just a dark puddle.

Oscar knew what was coming. Knew the hands holding his arms behind his back were too large and too callused to be any of the other kids in here, recognised the way his shoulder was twisted so awkwardly behind him that it hurt.

His breathing was heavy.

“Mr Snyder-“

“It’s late, Oscar.”

Snyder’s voice was light like it always was, like this was a minor inconvenience, like Oscar was a minor inconvenience. He looked put together still, despite it being so late, and Oscar wondered whether he hadn’t slept yet or if he’d gotten dressed before coming over. His trousers were smooth, pressed, as neat and immaculate as they were every morning. His shirt was rumpled though, like it had been buttoned quickly, it wasn’t done up the whole way to the collar either, the sleeves neatly cuffed and pushed up to just past his elbow. His hand resting lightly on his cane, eyes sharp and watchful and Oscar could practically feel the weight of his stare as he glanced listlessly between the body knocked out on the floor and Oscar held still and in place like one of those moths Snyder had in a frame on his office wall, little needles through each wing.

“Do you want to explain to me why you’re starting fights in the middle of the night, or shall I just assume you wanted my attention.”

The room was silent now. Properly silent. The quiet Oscar had craved and he felt that twisted jealously curl in his stomach at the fact that Snyder could achieve it so quickly,

“He was cryin’ sir.” He winced as his shoulder was twisted further but tried to keep the expression off of his face, to not give Snyder the satisfaction. “And he wouldn’ shut up.”

“So you made him.” A smile was dancing on Snyder’s lips, always so goddamn amused with himself in a way that made Oscar equal measures angry and apprehensive every time it was directed at him. But there was an emptiness to it, a fury behind it. “If you wanted some quiet you could’ve just asked, Mr Delancey.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what the threat entailed yet, but his tone alone was enough to make his stomach drop.

“I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m sure some time alone in solitary will give you all the quiet you need.”

The fear was all consuming and came on quickly, like being doused in cold water. Oscar pictured the door and the lock and felt like he was going to vomit. Could taste the bile creeping up in the back of his throat at the thought of the four walls and high windows and no way out-

“And maybe you’ll learn in future to not disturb my sleep. Everyone, back to bed. And since you’ve already woken me, Delancey.” Oscar exhaled heavily. His head was throbbing. “Why don’t we get those beatings in now,” his eyes darkened, his hand tightening around the top of the cane. “You know they’re coming anyway.”

The body of the boy was left on the floor, as Oscar was shoved toward the door.

Snyder flicked the lights back off. The boys settled down to bed.

[junglemax]

we are ignoring the fact that hook wasn’t cleared for travel for this fic. thank you

hook knows all too well what it’s like to be betrayed without expecting it. toni doesn’t.

[drabble]

Hook’s waiting to get checked up on. He was put as an afterthought, which wasn’t ideal, but surely someone would realize he’s there for a reason.

He hears the sobbing first. His eyes are still bandaged; he can’t see who it is, but it gets louder as it nears the room.

Medical must be small, because it’s all so loud as people buss around him, trying to help whoever it is. Hook makes himself small; apparently, there’s a lot of blood, from what he hears from staff. The crying doesn’t ever go down.

“Don’t touch me!” She finally screams, and now Hook’s got a voice he recognizes: Toni Storm. Jesus, what happened to her?

Either she’s trying to escape the room entirely or she’s just trying to get people off of her, because a small frame ends up crashing into Hook anyways, and the first thing he feels when he goes to grab her is blood, sticky to the touch. She reeks of it.

She steadies herself, gripping onto Hook’s hoodie. Hook holds her arms.

“Miss Storm-“ a staffer tries.

She screams again, and wrangles herself behind Hook, using him as a human shield. “Go away! Let me mourn!”

Hook grabs onto one of her hands. “Hey- hey,” he tries.

Toni doesn’t get the hint and instead grabs onto his hand, squeezing hard. Where is her butler? Or Mariah? Hook thought she trailed behind Toni no matter what.

“Hey,” Hook tries again. “You’re bleeding. You gotta get checked out.”

Toni sobs again, right in his ear. He winces.

“Miss Storm,” they try again, “please let go of Hook- you have to get stitches. We promise Miss May is nowhere near.”

Miss May? Mariah?

“Mariah? Mariah did this?” Hook asks.

Toni seems to pity his confusion, and for a moment, the sobbing stops. “I don’t know why,” she wails. “What did I do? I loved her! I loved her!”

Hook’s heart squeezes so tight in his chest he thinks it might pop. He squeezes her hand and attempts to face her. “Hey,” he says, softer, “I know how you feel.”

Toni hiccups. “How could you know?” She’s accusatory, but there’s a tiny bit of hope in her voice still. She’s deflecting her pain with anger. Another one of Hook’s specialties.

Hook winces. “Last year,” he starts slowly, quietly- a whisper. He feels Toni lean in, and he continues. “Jack Perry. He- we were a team. I saved him when he had no one. I thought everything was fine. He had a title shot, lost, and then-“

“Betrayed you,” Toni whispered. “Did you love him?”

“Yeah.” Hook swallows hard. Fuck, he might start crying himself. “I loved him so much.”

A hand reaches out and touches his face. He can feel the blood rub onto his cheek. “Oh, you poor boy. How did you get through?”

“I got angry,” Hook admitted. “I was mad. So angry, that he threw everything away because he let jealousy get to him. I could never understand it.”

Toni moves from behind him, and she sits next to him. She doesn’t let go of his hand. “Did it hurt?”

“Of course it did,” Hook tells her. He can hear the staff murmuring, and hears the space fill- they must be finally cleaning her of the blood. “But it’s what we do. Hurt people. Sometimes we have to hurt the ones we love to avenge ourselves.”

Toni touches the bandage on his eyes. “Did he do this to you? Your lover?”

Hook for a split second thinks he’s going to pass out from the emotions that just rushed him. Your lover. Even after everything- like she knew he still loved him. Was it the way he said it? Did his face give it away? He takes a deep breath. “No,” he shakes his head. “No. After- after I beat him, he left for a while.” He’s back now, and a totally different person- I’m probably not even on his mind anymore, he thinks. Somehow, that stings even more to think about.

She stops touching the bandage. “But you lived.”

“Yeah. I lived.”

Toni sniffles. “Maybe I have hope, too.” She squeezes his hand one last time, then lets go.

Someone puts a hand on Hook’s shoulder and leans in. “Thank you for helping Miss Storm,” Luther whispers.

Hook nods in his direction, then turns back to Toni. “I’m rooting for you, Toni.”

[sp1rit-realm]

༻¨*:· 𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋 ·:*¨༺

♪ It's just that I fell in love with a war ♪ ♪ Nobody told me it ended ♪

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ You break a bowl, Remus tries to comfort you. An argument ensues.

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 reader's previous relationship was abusive 𖦹 a bloody hand (but nothing graphic) 𖦹 gn!reader (they/them pronouns) 𖦹 a sprinkle of angst 𖦹 hurt/comfort 𖦹 remus lupin calling you his darling and his love 🜷⌣🜷 𖦹 remus lupin being the best partner ever 𖦹 he's so boyfriend 𖦹 inspired by the song 'A Pearl' by Mitski  𖦹 fluffy ending bc i'm a huge crybaby 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 2.1k 

"Sometimes, I wish I was a star," Your voice was quiet as you peered into the black sky, stars scattered across it. They looked like pearls. Precious.

He looked at you in admiration, "Why?"

"Because they're up there," You sighed, "And they take time to paint each star. To them, each one is just as important as the one before, and they ensure they are all beautiful."

"Who's up there?" There was genuine interest in his tone, and it warmed your heart.

"The person I used to be." You felt silly saying it, and you were scared he was going to judge you.

There was a beat of silence.

Instead of judgement, he reached for your hand and interlocked your pinkies, whispering: "You're precious. Like a pearl."

Your face grew warm.

Remus anxiously waited for you—he was gnawing at his fingernails. He scolded himself; you hated when he chewed on his fingernails.

1:39

"They're only nine minutes late, Remus. It's okay. They're okay. We're okay," He muttered.

Remus had an underlying fear that you would leave him. It wasn't because of the whole werewolf thing—okay, maybe it was the werewolf thing, but only a little bit; and he was working on that.

It was because of something you were going through. Remus didn't understand what you were going through; he couldn't understand. That was one of the many intricate parts of your relationship.

You didn't want him to understand because he could only understand if he went through the same thing. You certainly did not want him to go through that.

That is what brought you here, on the floor, curled into yourself, sobbing.

"He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve me," You wailed, looking at your hands

Remus stood up, it had been half an hour, and he knew you weren't showing up.

He felt tired.

Not of you, never of you, but of this feeling. This emotion that appeared to be swallowing you whole and seemingly had its eyes set on your relationship as its next victim.

You heard the key in the door, and a wave of panic hit you. Then, as it washed over you—submerging you and taking your breath—the panic turned into guilt.

You were supposed to meet Remus at the park, and you were ... crying?

He toed his shoes off and walked to the kitchen, where he heard you weeping.

Upon seeing you, his heart felt like the shattered pieces of porcelain at your side. You were sobbing because you broke a bowl. Then, you started apologizing. It was frantic and compulsive, just a simple "I'm sorry" repeatedly falling from your chapped lips.

He wondered how anyone could see you like this and get mad at you.

"Darling?" He knew his voice had to be quiet. You were fragile right now—he assumed your breaking of the bowl triggered you. At this point in the relationship, identifying the trigger was somewhat easy. Identifying the feelings the trigger brought up was the challenging part. It didn't help that sometimes you couldn't articulate your feelings.

One of those times seemed to be now. Remus loathed that all you could say was, "I'm sorry."

Then, he noticed the dry blood on your hand and wanted to joke about how 

'You've only broken a bowl. You didn't kill someone, even though you've got literal blood on your hands.'

He didn't. Maybe he'll tell you later.

He knelt beside you.

Remus didn't think anything of it. He just wanted to wipe your cheek and relieve it from the layer of tears.

To him, it was harmless. To you, it was frightening.

You shrunk into yourself as he brought his hand up, and you scrunched your face, bracing for a slap, or a hit, or something physically violent.

Remus brought his hand down, and his lips pressed together.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," He whispered, "I'll never hurt you. You're safe her, Darling. You're safe."

Your next inhale was sharp, and your face relaxed with the shaky exhale that followed. You opened your eyes to look at Remus, who spoke gently, "Why don't I clean up your hand, okay?"

At your nod, he spoke again. "Can I touch you?"

You shake your head, "It's not because of you. It's— It's—"

At your wavering voice, he stepped in, "I know, Darling. I know"

He didn't understand why you felt you had to explain why you said no, just that you were wired to do so. It hurt him—deeply.

You stood slowly, knowing you would get dizzy if you stood too fast. And if you got dizzy, there was a possibility that you would fall, and if you did, Remus would either try to catch you, or you would injure yourself. If Remus caught you, he would be touching you, making you even more miserable. If you got hurt he—being the angel he is—would take the blame and never forgive himself. Both would make him feel worse. You already missed lunch together because you dropped this stupid bowl and—

"My Lovely?" Remus repeated for the fourth time; this time, it snapped you out of your frantic thoughts.

You looked at him, "Hm?"

"To clean your hand, I'm going to have to touch it. Is that okay?" His talking was slow and calm, and it oddly made you mad.

"I said I didn't want you to touch me!" You felt your heart beat faster, and adrenaline rushed over you.

Remus was so incredibly tired, and he didn't feel like fighting. He hated fighting with you—it was gut-wrenching.

"I know, but I don't want your hand to get infected because it's not clean."

"Stop speaking to me like I'm a child, Remus."

You knew what you were doing, and it was wrong, but it felt so right to pick a fight. You hated yourself for it.

Remus sighed.

You swore you could feel the blood pumping through your veins and drew your brows together, "Don't sigh at me."

Remus knew better than to indulge in your argument, but he couldn't help himself.

"All I am trying to do is help you."

Your brain was foggy, "Well, you're not helping. If anything, you're making it WORSE!"

You have said a lot of things in past arguments. Never anything like this.

"Wait, no—" You quickly went to correct yourself.

"I'm making it worse?" He repeated your bitter words. "Really? Because if I'm making it worse, I can leave. I can leave you here and never try to help you again if I make everything so much worse."

"That's not what I said!" You argued back, "I never said you make everything worse. Stop twisting my words!"

"I'm not twisting your words, Y/n. This—" He waved his arms around the broken porcelain, then around you, "this is everything."

Too far.

"I am a person, Remus. I am not just my trauma." Your voice was quiet.

"Aren't you!?"

You looked at your bloody hand, "I'm sorry, Remus. I—" Your voice cracked, and you went silent.

Hit turn to feel guilty.

"Can I clean your cut?" He muttered.

You gave him your hand.

"Can I touch you?"

You somberly nodded your head.

His touch was soft, and you started to sweat. You hated this feeling. You hated fearing that his fingers would turn harsh after they softly cleaned your hand.

And you felt bad for being scared, because you knew Remus would never hurt you. Still, something in you was constantly on edge, a primal instinct to protect yourself before you got hurt.

He once said you reminded him of a pearl. He would give you pearl necklaces and earrings and bracelets. A precious pearl, that's what he would call you.

The jewelry stayed in your jewelry box, untouched since you left him. You weren't sure why you kept them—maybe to remind yourself that it was real. It could be because the pearls symbolized what you thought his love was.

It wasn't love, though, it was manipulation, and it was toxic.

And, as much as you didn't want to believe it, it was abuse.

Perhaps you kept the pearls because they were part of that toxicity.

Remus finished cleaning your hand somewhat ten minutes ago; you hadn't realized, too deep in thought.

Too busy thinking about the pearls again.

He stained part of you, a part of yourself that you now call The Pearl.

It started small, and you were able to control it at first.

Now, it seemed unmanageable.

The Pearl taunted you. It told you to be explosive because it knew Remus wouldn't be. Explosions cause chaos, and chaos is safe. That's what it told you.

But then, when the chaos was over and done with, it told you that you were toxic and abusive—it said you were a monster and that you were just like him.

You would indulge in The Pearl—you did everything it told you to do. You believed everything it told you to believe.

Maybe you were toxic.

"Y/n?" Remus repeated. His voice was quaint and delicate. You could tell he didn't want to startle you.

"Do you want to go sit on the couch? Maybe we can talk over there?"

You nodded, trudged your way to the couch, and plopped down. A heavy sigh escaped your lips.

You, too, were tired of this feeling.

Once he sat down, you quickly spoke, "I'm sorry, Remus."

"I'm not going to tell you it's okay 'cos it wasn't, but I'm also sorry. I said some very hurtful things, and I know better than to let it get out of hand—"

You wanted to scream, not at Remus, at yourself. You interrupted him, "Remus, t's not your fault. I let it get to me."

"My Darling, I'm still having trouble understand what 'it' is. I know you've tried before, but can you try and explain again? Because I can't keep doing this. My Lovely, I can't keep arguing with you. It hurts too much."

Perhaps it wasn't the best wording, but you knew what he meant.

"I'm sor—"

He cut you off, "Don't apologize."

You nodded.

"It's like there's this—" You took a deep breath. You had to tell him, no matter how scary it was.

"He used to call me his precious pearl," You started, looking down into your laps where your hands rested, "And I was his. He trapped me for years, and I became his."

Remus didn't like hearing that, but he put his anger aside.

"He changed me, Remus." You looked into his soft, lovely amber eyes. He wasn't judging you.

"Do you know how pearls form?"

He looked at you with confusion and shook his head.

"When an oyster comes in contact with a foreign substance, it traps and covers it with the same stuff that makes its shell. As time goes on, this material—the one that makes the shell—builds and creates a pearl."

Remus slowly nods, "Okay."

"Well, when this process occurs naturally, it doesn't hurt the oyster." You look back down into your lap, "But there are pearl farms where harvesters will cut the oyster and insert irritants." You looked back at him, "Pearls are formed to defend the oyster. When this process happens artificially, it usually hurts the oyster because the harvesters do it with little care."

Remus nodded again, "You know I'm very interested in the things you enjoy talking about, but I'm not sure if this is the right time to be talking about pearls."

"Just wait. It has to do with this, okay?"

When he nodded, you kept speaking. "So, I'm like an oyster, and he was like a pearl farmer. There's this part of me that I call 'The Pearl,' it helps protect me, but not in the right way. Before he could take the pearl, I left, and now I'm trying to remove it, but it's hard and it hurts. It hurts so much." You hoped you were making sense. "Now, I'm with you, and I love it. I love this relationship so much, Remus. I do. And I love you, you're so gentile and you don't even want to make a pearl from me, but I've got one, and it hurts, and I don't know how long it'll take to remove it—I don't know if I can remove it."

Remus was starting to understand. "So, The Pearl, it makes you—" He was very careful with his words, "It created chaos?"

"Mhm"

"As a ... defense mechanism?"

You nodded, "It's because I'm not used to being in such a calm relationship. It feels unnerving, so The Pearl is telling me to create the explosions 'cos that's how it's "s'posed" to be, and then you'll leave, and—" Your inhale was shaky, "And then I turn into a harvester and The Pearl is happy with that because I don't get hurt."

He was quick to respond, "You will never become a harvester, and I won't leave." He shook his head to himself, "I won't ever leave you."

You looked at him with adoration, "Even though I've got a pearl?"

"Even though you've a pearl," He confirmed. "We can work on extracting it together, okay? How's that sound?"

Your heart felt so warm and so full, "That sounds nice."

He curtly nodded and stood up, "You want a cwtch?"

"The bowl," You whispered.

He smiled softly, "I cleaned it up—while you were thinking earlier."

Remus told you his stupid joke as he held you. You felt safe as you laughed, saying: "I do have lots of skeletons in my closet, though. That okay?"

He smiled, "I love spooky shit."

It made you laugh harder.

Maybe you could finally wave your white flag of surrender.

No more war, no more pearls.

Thank you for reading, my lovelies

ଘ(੭ ˊᵕˋ)੭*༺ ♡‧₊˚

@forourmoons @sw34terw34ther @cremexcoffee @nelabelievesindragons @evergreenlover

[clonehub]

Kiki is laying on the floor of her would-be childhood room, depressed after the funeral for Nirisa. Her sister comes in and lays down on the floor across from her.

Kiki: the masters said the Force was a peaceful ocean, and the loss of one Jedi was merely a drop. the tides will rise and fall and the cycle continues. It's supposed to prevent despair, to help us feel less like each loss is a monumental devastation, but this doesn't feel like an ocean, it's a HOLE, a gaping hole, in my -- I can feel it. It's a wound I don't know how to fill and it repulses me but I can't stop touching it. There's a hole in the Force where my sister should be. I'm scared I'm going to follow. I'm scared I'm going to fall in.

Kiki begins to sob.

Kiki: I should have known her. Her last day with me, she was trying to get to know me. She was giving me advice. I didn't even -- my own sister -- now our mother's dead and I feel like I was closest to Nirisa when I shared a womb with her.

Okunna: Is this what's called 'attachment'?

Kiki nods.

Okunna: (beat) I can't say I understand your religion or all of your beliefs, but this one, I do. Nobody should ever feel like you do now. Nobody should wail like you did.

Kiki: I'm breaking the Code.

Okunna: Then break it. Break it here, now, where the pieces don't matter and the shards cannot hurt you. Pour out every drop in that ocean until you're empty.

Kiki: I-I can't--

Okunna: I will help you clean it up, my sister. Then you can return to the Temple in one piece.

[yellowsugarwords]

alright lemme know if you don’t wanna do that but season three group reacting to David accidentally killing javi? got the idea from that one game over screen in ep5

OH DAMN

David: David had been angry. No, he’d been livid. And seeing Javi cozier with his family than he had ever been? It fueled his rage even more. He had pulled out the gun as a threat, as a means of reestablishing his power both in Richmond, and in their family dynamic. He only wanted to get him to back down. To listen. To respect David as the tried and true leader. But his finger slipped, and the gun roared, and suddenly, splatter from his brother’s forehead hit his shirt and face. Then, Javi was on the ground. The screams and cries echoed from all around him, as though he wasn’t really present; as though he was watching a movie. It was an out of body experience, making that big of a mistake. “David, how could you?” Kate roared. She ran up, punching him angrily in the chest before Tripp pulled her away. Her attention turned to that of Gabe and Mariana’s; Javi’s limp body on the ground, watching him take his last breaths. Fuck. Fuck. It was the only thing passing through David’s head. He had killed his brother. His only brother. Everything was all his fault.

Kate: Kate screamed the moment the BANG! roared through the air. Her hands slapped over her mouth, her heart stopping entirely as she watched the scene play out in front of her. Just as David slammed his foot on the ground, his finger hit the trigger, firing a bullet straight through Javi’s forehead, forcing him onto the ground. “Javi” It was the only thing she could say, slipping shakily out of her lips. She wobbled forward, about to collapse herself. Her legs felt weak. She felt like her body was suffocating, every inch of it. “Javi?” She finally knelt down beside him, staring into his lifeless eyes, and studying his still chest. “Javi? Javi?” Her voice became more and more distressed the more he didn’t answer. She knew he was gone. She just couldn’t stomach it. “Javi, no!” For the first time since the apocalypse began, she felt really, truly, alone. “No no no no no,” she whispered under her breath, holding each side of his pale face, trying to soak up every last bit of warmth his body had to offer before it was all gone. “I can’t lose you too,” she whispered through sobs.

Eleanor: Eleanor felt his stomach twist when David pulled out the gun. She lifted up her hands, as if trying to generate peace. “Woah, David, we can--” She wasn't able to finish. Before she had a chance, the gun fired, the bullet ripped through Javier’s throat, and he was down on the ground. It had all happened so quickly, it took Eleanor a beat to even understand what had happened. Why Javi was on the ground. Why he was bleeding so severely. Finally, Kate’s scream and Gabe’s wails snapped her out of it. She darted to his side, waving the others away. “Give me some room,” she said softly, leaning in, listening for a heartbeat. She knew it was useless, but she needed to do something. She couldn’t just stand there in horror. She needed to try. At least then, she could say she did. Her eyes began to cloud over with tears as she attempted to stop the bleeding, take a pulse, do anything. Eventually her tears began falling freely, her voice shaking from sobs. “Javi, come on, man. Stay with me.” But she knew he was gone. It was too late.

Tripp: Tripp’s hands tightened into fist when he realised what was going to happen. “David don--” The shot was fired before Tripp even had a chance. He reached his hand out, wanting to lea for the gun, but wasn’t fast enough. The bullet ripped from the gun and landed straight into Javi’s chest. The moment he saw it, Tripp knew it was over. He lowered his hand, it tossed down to his side in defeat as Javi collapsed, a hand on his chest, the life draining out of him on the ground. Tripp closed his eyes and sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes. David just stood; still and horrified. “I’m--” “Shut it, David.” Tripp snapped, finally opening his eyes. “Get the hell out of here. Right now.” David hadn’t ever seen Tripp this stern, this rattled, this angry. “Get the fuck out of here.” Tripp said again, louder and more aggravated this time. The sound of weeping and sobbing bounced off of every wall. Tripp stood in front of the grieving family, keeping eyes on David as he wandered away until he was fully ot of sight. Mari, Kate, and Gabe didn’t need him nearby. Not right now. Not after what he did.

Gabe: Gabe could feel his stomach drop. For a moment, he felt as though he was weightless - floating in place rather than existing. He felt like he was outside of his body, watching as Javi crumpled to the ground. David had pulled out his gun as a threat, demanding for Javi to back off. When he didn’t, David got frustrated. His finger slipped, and it fired. Directly through Javi’s throat, rendering him speechless, waiting for death. “No!” Gabe screamed, lunging forward and collapsing onto his knees, laying beside Javi’s limp body on the ground. “Javi! Javi, please!” Gabe could barely breathe due to how hard he was crying. For so long, Javi raised him. He taught him more about being a man than David ever did. More than David ever could. David put his gun away, hands up as though protesting. “I didn’t…I didn’t mean--” “Shut up!” Gabe screamed. He had never raised his voice at his father in his entire life before. “I hate you!” He didn’t care if walkers came to their location due to the noise, he could care less. All he could do was lay his forehead on Javi’s still chest, and weep into the bloodied fabric.

Mariana: Mariana screamed. It was all she could think to do, but it was still muffled by the BANG of the gun. “No! Javi, No!” Mariana flew herself forward, reaching Javi just as he hit the ground. He groaned and squirmed, blood pooling around his head and shoulders. “Javi, please. Please stay. We need you,” Mariana could see her tears falling, crashing onto his shirt and face. Every time one landed, she brushed it away. With her hand on one of his cheeks, she could feel how warm his cheeks were. Knowing they would only get colder was devastating. “It’s okay,” Javi wheezed, his eyes beginning to cloud over. “Stay safe.” Those were the last words to escape his lungs before his chest collapsed, all the air leaving his lungs, and his body giving in to the concrete. Mariana wailed. Louder than she had ever cried at anything before. She clung to his shirt, begging for him to stay. “Javi, no! Please!” She felt as though she was going to pass out. She couldn't breathe. Her chest physically ached. This really did feel like the end.

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡