#IM STILL ALIVE AND KICKING BELIEVE OR NOT
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tsukk1 · 2 years ago
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holding the sun 
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catgirlcrisis · 1 year ago
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its actually so crazy how the writing team was like “lets make grief and loss important themes for alisaie as a character” so in BCOB she learns about making peace with her grandfather’s death to live life on her own terms, for her own sake. she goes out herself to explore eorzea. and then emery dies while shes powerless to do anything about it. and then she almost dies believing that urianger was going to betray her and the scions. and then she watches the same tower her brother was supposed to be in get bombed not knowing if he escaped in time. and then she watches the people she loves be picked off one by one, physically present but spiritually gone, while being powerless to help them. and then she loses contact with alphinaud (again) not knowing if he’s okay. if he’s safe. and then the next time she sees him immediately its his limp body being carried by a stranger. and then she begs the warrior of light to not leave her alone. and then she watches tesleen die powerless to do anything about it. and then she watches the warrior of light nearly succumb to becoming a sin-eater, risking dooming not only the fate of the first, but the source. and then she finds the cold bodies of licinia and her sister, ultimately more victims of their despair than anything else, people who she’d been trying to help. and then s
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akkivee · 17 days ago
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Kr answered our prayers ????? Bimi wrote Kuukous new solo and it’s a banger ??????????? When I saw Bimi in the top corner I legitimately started crying I’m so happy we got a Bimi banger for Kuukou. 😭😭
I LITERALLY WOKE UP FROM A DREAM WHERE KUUKOUS NEW SOLO WASNT AT ALL BASED ON ROCK AND THEN IT STARTED AND THE MOMENT I SAW THE CREDITS I DID A WHOLE ASS SOMERSAULT ON MY BED SCREAMING AND I STARTED CRYING ON THE SECOND LISTEN I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS REAL I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS MY REALITY A BIMI BANGER WITH HAYAMA KUUKOU MY CHEST HURTS THIS IS THE GREATEST DAY OF MY LIFE
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the-love-i-crave · 1 year ago
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jesus fucking christ i disappear off tumblr for a few months and i feel like im getting bombarded by advertising from it
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nemonito · 5 months ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya, Bakugou Katsuki, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Shouto, Yagi Toshinori | All Might Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia), musician au, Pianist Midoriya Izuku, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt No Comfort, Angst Summary:
He’s been practising them for years, he shouldn’t be this nervous. But he can’t help it. He’s always been this way. He can’t remember a moment in his life he hasn’t had this gnawing feeling of trepidation chipping away at him slowly, ubiquitous in his moments of peace, when he daydreams and whenever he tries to fall asleep.
His name is called.
He knows what happens next. He won’t make it through the stage.
What if I-
He wishes he had more time.
In which Izuku would like to win.
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giamee · 6 months ago
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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘!
╭─────────────────────── ( 🫀 )
there's a certain beauty and pain in being with someone carnally, and nothing more than that
› 〉 📂 .ೃ | friends with benefits, more angst than smut, like this is basically all angst no smut lol, kinda short too mb
header art (left to right) by pcrow ; artsquirre ; _sekidesu
╰─➤ 💌 ��₁₎ being in a situationship is all fun and games until u catch feelings fr 😕. anyways. let's go thru that pain in this. lowkey i wanna make a part 2 to this with a happy ending cos im SOFT lmaooo
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ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ALHAITHAM.
BEING IN... WHATEVER THIS RELATIONSHIP COULD BE CLASSIFIED AS was not good for your mental health. in the past weeks that you and alhaitham had started sleeping together, you had been plunged into one of the worst emotional rollercoasters that you had ever been on.
what didn't help was the way he treated you so differently depending on the setting. you understood not wanting people to know, but did he have to ignore you entirely in public?
he wouldn't even spare you a glance as you walk past each other in the halls, eyes stubbornly trained ahead, leaving you steamrolled in his icy trail. and if you dare to try and talk to him- he'd look at you like you've grown a second head, completely shunning you and walking away as quickly as possible.
but it's a different story behind closed doors- in private, he's the sweetest man alive.
he'll whisper such sweet nothings into your ear, wipe your tears so tenderly with his thumbs like a lover would. he'd prop himself up with an elbow just so that he can gaze into your eyes as he pushes into you, even smiling at you as he watches the way your expression changes.
and the way he kisses you is what really throws you- always with such desperation and urgency, like he needs you in order to breathe when it's quite the opposite. he kisses you like he loves you, and the sensation is dizzying, perplexing when those fantasies are ripped from you in favour of reality.
but you know that you won't ever be his. not properly.
if it was meant to be, he'd at least smile at you as he passed. the more rational parts of your brain screamed at you to call it quits before you're sucked in too deep, but some part of you still held onto the hope that one day he would see you then smile.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 THOMA.
IT TRULY HURT TO REMEMBER THAT you weren't actually dating thoma. it was easy to get fooled- he was a gentleman, making sure to treat you right even when you weren't fucking. he'd make sure that you were okay, and he never kicked you out as soon as it was over.
he'd ask about your day, take interest in you and what you're doing. and arguably, worst of all, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you. the details that blurred the lines defining your relationship seemed like an afterthought, if the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders indicated anything.
you were his, unofficially or not. it only took a glance to be able to tell.
you liked to think that he was yours, too. that you meant something to him- more than just a pastime and a stress reliever.
there were moments where it was easier to believe it- with the way his eyes remain transfixed on you as you writhe in pleasure, cries of his name leaving your lips- his little coos and reassurances buttering you up, having you right in his palm, so pliant and willing for him.
maybe he got off on knowing that he makes you feel good in every sense of the word. seeing you happy acting as some sort of foreplay, all so he can claim you as his in every way except the one that you wanted most.
the urge to tell him how you feel, those three little words that dangle on the tip of your tongue and fight to be freed, are a constant struggle. but something inside you, some sick gut instinct, stopped you from blurting it out every time.
the fear of his reaction- disgust? confusion? kept you uncertain. a part of you would die if he didn't reciprocate your feelings. it was better not to know, and keep living in the make-belief of being his without the label.
you could only hope that you would be proved wrong one day.
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WRIOTHESLEY.
DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU COULDN'T HELP BUT crawl back to him every single time. a never-ending cycle- one that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.
both of you knew how it goes. you unblock him, play coy for a few messages before he's telling you to come over. you fuck like it's the last time you ever will- it never is- and then you spend the night.
he'll hold you, play with your hair, even kiss you, and you pretend that it's enough. if you're lucky, he'll even lend you a shirt that smells of him to sleep in.
and this facade is fine- while it lasts. but then you remember why you blocked him in the first place- the forced indifference, his refusal to open up. the way it hurt your heart to be pushed aside.
and then you go and ask him what you mean to him. he'll smile at you without mirth, the both of you knowing how this conversation goes. he doesn't want anything serious. you want more.
and then it's tears, you ripping off his shirt and throwing it back at him, storming out of his place and blocking his number with shaking fingers.
you cry yourself to sleep in your cold and empty bed- already sorely missing the warmth of his body as he holds you close to him in his sleep, whether he's aware of that or not.
and you're fine, you tell yourself. you can live without him. and you do, for a little while. honestly, he's the last thing on your mind as you distract yourself with work or seeing your friends.
but then a lonely night gets the best of you, abd you find your finger hovering over the call button next to his name. and you press it, cursing yourself for doing it.
he picks up at the third ring, voice smug as if he knew you couldn't go much longer without him.
and he's right, unfortunately.
you're already out the door, on the way to his apartment.
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𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist
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lavenderspence · 2 months ago
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unexplained sadness | A.H.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.5K
Content warning: pre-established relationship, depression, mental health struggles, mentions of therapy, angst, supportive!aaron
Summary: you've struggled to find a way out from under the darkness for years, but you were thankful he offered the final push you needed.
A/N: I drafted this a few days, contemplating if I should even post it. it's very self-indulgent. I wrote it at a time when I wasn't able to understand my own feelings, and im still not sure how. I think this is the realest my writing has been, but i do think I'm posting this with the most vulnerability as well. I want you all to remember, just in case you're struggling - you're amazing, you're enough and I believe in you. Life is crazy, but it will get better, allow yourself to be patient, and most importantly, take the greatest, most gentle care of yourself 💕
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You looked around, well aware of the amount of relief that should be flooding your body right now. It usually did at the end of a case, where another monster was put to rot in a cage much appropriate for its’ sins. 
But even knowing what you should be feeling, the simple truth was - you weren’t feeling anything at all, and you hadn’t for a while. 
And even when you did feel something, you could never explain it. It was a mess, where many emotions fought a battle, but in the end, all it came down to was an endless void where the darkness and despair of the unexplained won out.
The only thing you could feel at that moment was the pressure of the vest compressing against your chest. It stole the little amount of oxygen in your lungs in favor of an overwhelming amount of hidden sadness. 
Even with the sun high up in the sky and the warmth it was supposed to spread all over your skin, you felt cold - no warmth actually penetrated the top layer of your skin. And the chatter - EMTs, police officers, and outlookers, you couldn’t process anything at all. 
It was like you were standing there, like a statue, a headstone to remind everyone of your presence once upon a time, but not anymore. Physically, you were alive and aware, but mentally, you’ve been fighting a battle you could confidently admit you were losing. 
Your thoughts were deeply wrapped in a cobweb of confusion and melancholy, a never-ending cycle that couldn’t stop repeating itself. It felt like you didn’t exist outside the realm of your own despair. Each day the shadows around you persisted in their pursuit of you, dragging in with them this empty feeling, designed to leave you feeling like a loner. 
The string holding you tethered to the person you’d been before was tinning each day as the distance between you grew bigger and bigger. You no longer even felt her presence at all. For weeks you’ve fought a silent battle against your own mind, and even your body sometimes. 
You tried to hide behind a mask of fake smiles and nights spent around the people you trusted most, hoping you’d feel better, but you never did. You only felt this state you were in, as it gained speed and grew in volume. 
But there was a certain pair of eyes that saw the subtle changes in you, straight into a place even you couldn’t see. Warm chocolate, sometimes shining amber in the sun - somehow strict but also oh so soft. 
You thought you hid it well, but you could never hide yourself from him, and you should have known. 
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Your hotel room was dark and quiet, safe for the gentle light and sound that came from the TV. A movie was playing, an early 2000s song in the background. The duvet felt heavy over your body, and you longed to kick it off in an effort to feel less trapped, but you couldn’t find the strength to. It was like your whole body was paralyzed in a fatal position with your muscles locked and your eyes open but unseeing. 
Case after case came, and each day it got harder. You had to try and perfect a mask you were getting tired of wearing, tired of hiding behind. You couldn’t skip work, lest you wanted to feel like more of a failure than you already did sometimes. 
You felt scared to admit to your struggles, half unsure what your struggles were to begin with, half unwilling to unload on others. You were willing to suffer and fight this on your own until you either had nothing left to fight against or no strength left to fight at all.
Your mind was working overtime, half empty and dark, half full and constantly spinning, you didn’t even process the foreign sound at first. Only it wasn’t so foreign - a series of gentle raps or someone’s knuckles against the door. Knocking. They were just enough to alert you of a newcoming presence but not disturb you or others in any way. 
You didn’t move a muscle. Even when two more knocks followed, even more gentle than the first, all you could do was blink. Even with the soft call of your name that came seconds later, you couldn’t find the strength to answer or even get up. You couldn’t even twitch. 
You stood there frozen in place, in time. Frozen between the walls of a prison of your own mind’s making. 
The knocks stopped, as did the voice calling out your name, maybe finally resigned to the fact you weren’t answering at all. 
Giving up on you the way you’d given up on yourself. 
You would be surprised if you didn’t feel a tiny bit of relief at being left on your own. Too bad the relief didn’t actually last long - just seconds after the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked, and the door was slowly opening, bathing the room in the hallway light. 
Even with the small, hesitant steps this person took, you were instantly able to tell by the sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor who it was. 
“Did you know it’s actually illegal to break into someone’s space?” Your voice came out raspy from misuse. You weren’t sure how much time had actually passed since you made it to your room, but if you had to guess, probably several hours had gone by.
“I do know that actually, it’s criminal law 101.” He retorted before you felt the mattress dip close to your feet, “You missed dinner.” He mussed.
A part of you couldn’t handle having a conversation with him, not right now. Not in the complete darkness, and the quiet stretched between you both. 
“I wasn’t hungry.” You answered simply. You waited for him to say something, and you waited and waited, and he wasn’t saying anything. It was like he was looking for the right words to use, so as not to offend you, or set you off. But you wouldn’t feel any of it if he did - just as the night was dark outside and so was your mind. 
“Just spit it out, Hotch.” You finally used a part of his name, unintentionally closing the distance the smallest bit even when you tried to stay away. Maybe subconsciously you knew you could trust him, if a little.  
“You’re not doing well.” 
You didn’t even hesitate. “Wow, way to show you aren't actually a gentleman.”
“I’m not trying to...” You could almost see him shaking his head, so in tune with his reactions from years of working alongside him, “I’m worried about you.” It left him in a whisper, like he was afraid to admit it. 
“I’m okay, there’s no need.” You denied it like it was your biggest defense against his accusations. Except they weren’t that, genuine worry dripped along with his words, but you had a hard time accepting it. You couldn’t, didn’t want to. Being vulnerable, especially in front of him, could cost you a lot, and with the way you’ve been living, you couldn’t afford it.
Even when deep in your heart you trusted him with everything, even yourself. 
You felt him place his hand on the duvet, enclasping his palm around your calf. “You were okay five weeks ago, and you haven’t been since then. I’ve been watching you wear a mark and barely holding yourself from falling apart. I don’t think ‘okay’ applies right now.” 
“I thought we promised not to profile each other.” You muttered brokenly, feeling parts of the mask he was talking about cracking in places. It was like having him so close, peeling your outer layers slowly, and leaving you exposed, finally making your emotional reactions coincide with your lack of understanding. It was like he was exposing all of you both to himself and you too. 
“Not at the expense of suffering in silence, we didn’t.” He answered with conviction, no hesitation. He was making it apparent your wellbeing was more important to him than any promise he might have made to you or others. He was letting you know he was prioritizing your health over everything else. 
He understood you even without you having to say anything. Just by watching you try to swim to the surface of the ocean and still being pushed by the crashing waves, he could already feel that you were struggling. 
He could see you were self-isolating, even when you were being surrounded by people. He picked up on the signs in the subtle subject changes you made whenever someone asked anything about you. You were unwilling to share, even though you loved sharing any little detail about your interest, allowing others to do the same. 
You let Garcia talk about her software and cute animals and allowed Reid to share any little fact with you he could. But even when you listened, it wasn’t hard to see you really weren’t. Staring into spaces or faking an interest, even though he knew you would be interested in the first place, had there not been anything amis to begin with. 
And slowly piece after piece had started falling together, like a puzzle started, yet left abandoned. 
In the darkness of the hotel room, miles away from your home and mere doors down from the rest of your team, a piece deep inside you started longing for the understanding he was offering. It started building up with worry over the reality of the words you knew you needed to say but were too scared to. It started wishing for a new slate, where the overwhelming amount of confusion and empty darkness no longer followed you like a shadow. 
It slowly started coming to terms with the fact that you weren’t enough to fight this on your own and that maybe you needed help to do so.
For the first time in weeks, months, who knew, maybe even years, you wanted to talk about it. You wanted to admit to your state of mind where reality got mangled with your deepest darkest thoughts imaginable, where self-doubt and the feeling of worthlessness took over. Where giving up sounded so much better than trying out again. Where any positivity was instantly turned into negativity whether you liked it or not. 
For the first time you craved being helped, you wanted to understand your own struggles and get better. You wanted to thrive in the life you were living instead of settling for simply existing. You wanted to talk, and you wanted to tell him all that. 
You rolled your lips between your teeth before you bit down until you tasted blood. One of your hands barely made it out from underneath the warmth of the duvet before you grabbed into the bedding with a tight fist. 
“I don’t think I’m doing okay, Aaron.” You whispered into the darkness. The bed dipped and groaned as he moved closer, settling just centimeters away from your cocoon this time. You were so busy looking over the skyline that you didn’t even see his hand move until you felt his warm palm overtop your skin. He held onto you, trying to prompt you into releasing the bedding, tapping his fingers in a gentle manner. 
He was offering you comfort without really saying or doing anything. He was letting you try and put your thoughts together before you entrusted him with the truth. 
“One minute I’m good, and the next it feels like I lose all touch with my own self and my feelings - It’s all empty, or an overwhelming amount of sadness I couldn’t begin to even understand. I can’t even grasp what prompts this sudden change. I’ve tried fighting it for so long, years maybe, and each time it comes back, I’m left feeling more hopeless than the last.” You explained in a small voice. 
A wave of relief, if small, rocked your whole body. There was something freeling about saying it out loud, ignoring the fear of admitting that had followed you for years. 
“Have you ever told anyone about it?” His voice was just another shadow in the room. A timbre so calm, quiet, and soothing that you knew he was listening with no reservations and no judgments. Just a pure need to help.
You went to shake your head, but remembered you were both still looking towards the window. “I’ve always played it off as a joke. I’ve never let it sound like I really mean it. Not like I do right now.” It was one of the many truths you’d admitted to that night. Even when you played it off, you knew deep inside it was a small cry for help you didn’t want to. You were unwilling to take the right steps in order to get the help you needed. 
“Why joke about it?” You thought about it for a second, trying to clear out the fog of the past.
“I guess…” Your fingers clenched underneath his own. “I guess I just wanted to see if anyone cared enough to ask if I was serious. They didn’t.” Realistically, you knew you shouldn’t wait on other people or expect them to see something amiss before you looked for help. But a part deep enough inside you wanted the reassurance that someone loved you enough to notice.
“But you want to get help?” He mumbled, still tapping his finger against your own.
“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about it. You owed yourself that much, and all the help possible you could get.
“Okay.” He exhaled in relief, “As soon as we get back, we’ll start looking, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You whispered. You felt his hand squeeze your own in reassurance. You turned your palm up, enveloped his own hand, and gave him one back, “Thank you, Aaron.”
A few minutes of looking at the starless sky passed before he prompted you to move, if just enough to walk into the bathroom and wash your face - and you did. When you came back, he’d made himself comfortable leaning against the headboard, legs stretched on the mattress. 
He spent the night sleeping in yesterday’s clothes, trying to make sure you were doing okay and weren’t left feeling lonely. 
You knew there was a long path ahead of you - the path to self-understanding and acceptance of your own flaws and struggles, as well as the changes you may need to adapt to moving forward. Something you were undoubtedly going to have a hard time with. Where you’d need to fight against the days when you questioned whether it was worth it. Where you’d slowly have to come to terms with the fact that as long as you were making yourself happy and keeping yourself afloat, there wasn’t anything worth more. 
The path to recovery was never supposed to be easy or linear, but you had him to thank for being the final push. You had to be thankful for each minute of the time he gave you. And each grain of love he showed you in the process. 
You needed the help - for yourself, your past, your present, and your future self. And for every second you spent failing to understand the person you were and the feelings you held onto.
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!
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mayearies · 1 year ago
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˚ʚ ©hiimayee ɞ˚
OPEN ARMS? …. miles g. morales ⟡
જ⁀➴ genre : angst | warnings : breakup, no happy ending, lengthy blurb
꒰ঌ ໒꒱ note! : yeah this made me cry if u cry sorrieee
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miles knew you too well. you wanted him to choose a new path in life, and he thought different.
you liked to take him out on random dates sometimes. walks around brooklyn, stay up talking, but most of all—convincing him he doesn’t need to do this. he’s heard it a thousand times. he has to.
today was a bad day to catch him. and he would later come to you in the dead of night and find your endless persuasive ramblings being an earworm for him.
“ listen. i get your point, i seriously do. but can you shut up with the prowler shit. for five seconds.”
“ i’m sorry-”
“ i just- i dont wanna talk about it, okay?”
miles wasn’t like this all the time. in fact, he was rather sweet towards you. no matter how annoyed he was, he was usually nice. but he didn’t look recognizable to you anymore. he looked disappointed.
he didn’t hold your hand like he used to when you walked down the street, he was more distant. and you didn’t see him as much anymore.
the ringing of your protests against him were always in his ear, even if you weren’t speaking. thats just what made him more upset. but he didn’t know what to be upset at.
you walked slightly beside him. he would slow down if you trailed too far behind. you didn’t know if you should follow him back home. suddenly, he stopped. “ can i ask you somethin’?”
“ mhm.”
“ do you really think i’m a hero?”
you knew what he had to see. some die, some live, some injured. some of those he had to inflict. but he said he did it for the greater good. for you and brooklyn. “ …i don’t know.”
miles scoffed at your answer, kicking the rocks on the pavement. his sudden change startled you a bit. “ great answer. just absolutely amazing.”
now, there’s one thing here. he can be upset all he wants. but he shouldn’t gain an attitude.
“ you need to chill out-”
“ don’t tell me what to do, [name].”
he doesn’t use your first name a lot. what happened to nicknames? what happened to ‘ma?’ ‘darling?’ ‘amor?’ what happened to those? are they just lost to time now..?
his distance was bothering you. he just wasn’t miles anymore. you don’t know who this is. is this the prowler you’re talking to? you grabbed his wrist making him stumble back. “ i’m worried! i’m worried about you.”
“ well don’t.” snapping at you was something he never did. never once in his life. he would tell you to back off, yeah, but never like that before. “ i’m fine.”
“that’s bullshit!”
he was really trying not to snap at you right now. you were working his last nerve. he doesn’t want to argue. he just wants you to leave it alone and move on. as you always do.
he huffed before relaxing his expression. “ look. just don’t worry about me, alright?” he paused, “ you hear me? just stop.”
you felt unheard. you felt so ignored. " you're a fucking liar! do you expect me not to worry about you when you come to my window at three in the morning? covered in bruises?! is that how you wanna play this out!?"
miles’ expression turned stern. even as he began to shake a little. you couldn’t believe this was miles. “ you think i’m still your sweet boy ?? do you really think that !?"
he looked hurt, he wasn’t happy.
" …i-" you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. he used to be so loving. so caring. it didnt feel like he was here at all. he just felt like a stranger. someone who walked all over your heart.
“ forget it-” silence filled the thick atmosphere again.
“ do you even think im alive, miles?"
miles stopped walking, he looked back quickly. he seemed confused.. and a little hurt. he saw you on the verge of crying. he would always say if he made you cry, he would never forgive himself for that.
" do you think im here? do you think i just-" your voice started breaking, " i just dont ever think about what you're going through? when i clean up your blood from my sheets? do you think i dont care?"
you cant avoid the inevitable, huh? yeah. he thought that too. he knew this would happen. “ because i assure you— i do care. i care more than- more than anyone else! anyone else that you know as a friend. thats why i ask. but you never tell me. never once. i do all of this for you, and i get nothing. miles.”
miles sighed, he had always felt this way—he didn’t deserve you. he knew he didn’t. you? he doesn’t know. it’s just hard for him to show how he really feels sometimes. “ ..please know i care.” he paused, wrapping his arms around you.
“ i really do. i hate to see you so worried about me.. and i hate that i have to put you through that.” he looked down over your shoulder, ashamed.
"then why? why, miles?"
miles paused for a minute, trying to find the right words. “ i have to do it.” he knew those weren’t the words you wanted to hear.
"for what sake!?"
" …i can’t just stand by..” miles sighed, his voice becoming weak. " i can’t."
you cried into his jacket as he rubbed your back. you knew a solution to this. you did, but it wouldn’t be pretty. it wouldn’t be anything considered nice.
pulling away, you stared at you feet. some tears still dripping to the pavement, "… maybe it isnt best… we see each other right now." your breath was shaky, and you could feel his demeanor change. "its just- you have a lot on your plate and… i dont wanna be involved in that."
miles was now silent, there didn’t seem to be anything he could say right now. he felt defeated, like there wasn’t anything he could do to change your mind. “ are you sure?”
you sighed lightly, “ no.”
you knew it had to happen. it was the only way to catch him a break. this was for him, not you. "you cant have it all, miles. i just wish we had better timing… you know?" you were on the verge of crying again.
miles was trying his best to keep you from crying. he knew that. he was lucky enough to even know you. he wish you met somewhere else. some other universe. “ no- please don’t cry. don’t do this to me.." he took his hand to yours, he really didn’t want this to be the last time you talked.
you had to let him go. you had to. it was for the greater good.
miles was still waiting with his hand in yours.. “ please. just tell me your not going to leave. im sorry." he said, he sounded.. really worried. he hated this.
"i just.. feel like i cant love you the same.."
miles had frozen, he didn’t know what to say. he felt like you were leaving forever. tears had started to form in his eyes, he was speechless. those were the words he’s always feared. the one thing he wanted to avoid.
“ please don’t leave me.. it’s just- i dont- i dont know what to do anymore. please. i love you.”
even after everything, you still believed he could figure it out. but you weren’t part of that equation at all. you could see his breath hitching softly as tears stained his face.
you cupped his face and smiled weakly at him. "… meet me in a year. just… find yourself before you find me. can you promise me that?"
your eyes looked pleading and caring. he shakily nodded his head which made you giggle a little. he seemed to have calmed down now, and was prepared for whatever the future has to hold. “ you’re a pretty crier, y’know?”
“ heh,” he sniffled, “ you never fail to make me smile.”
even with all his doubts, he still couldnt grasp how he met someone like you. you were his everything. everything he liked in one. he couldn’t ask for any less.
“i’ll be waiting for you with open arms, mamita.”
and he did. but you never came.
as i said before. you can’t avoid the inevitable, yeah?
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afterwards note! : my layout will continue to be inconsistent thanks for asking
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bitchimasnake-sss · 1 year ago
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"i thought you got possessed-" ft. luffy!
ft. luffy x fem!reader
set-up: you're pms-ing and he is such a dumbass. but that doesn't mean he isn't out here being the bestest boy ever. (please excuse his dumbassery, he was dropped on his head as a child)
warnings: none! very wholesome lol
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- please dont get confused, this man has no idea how periods work - like how is it humanly possible for you to bleed and then stay alive and kicking? seems made up tbh - one eventful evening (before you both started dating), you and nami had to sit him down and give him a long-ass biology lesson, explaining what the whole phenomenon is, what pms-ing is and yada-yada - before this, he firmly believed that every once a while a demon possessed you all (and he saw absolutely no issue with that, what a fucking icon) "ohhh" he's laughing, "so that's what it is? i thought you guys like got possessed" "excuse me?" nami's on the verge to hit him in the head again and you're wondering if the constant hits are the reason luffy's braincells are (half) dead "i see, i see. i get it now" - he lied, he still doesn't quite get it - but its fine - so, it is just another random tuesday and (post-dating) you know syou love luffy. but holy shit, if he yelled "YN DOLPHIN!! LOOK LOOK A DOLPHIN! SUGEEEEEE" and giggled again, you might yell at him. you really do love him but if he stole your food one more time, you're convinced you might smack him too. "luffy" your voice was unusually low, devoid of any warmth, "stop that." "whatt" he whined, grinning afterwards as he scooped up more food from your plate "luffy. i said STOP IT." your voice rose higher and silence hung uncomfortably over the dinner table - luffy just looks at you dumbfounded - the way you're fisting your hand on the table and looking at him has the crew afraid that youre gonna murder the captain in cold blood - well, i mean ur considering the possibility too, so, you mumble a half-ass apology and return back to your room to be alone - lying against the soft sheets, you can smell the citrus detergent and oh boy, now you feel guilty - i mean god, that's luffy, that was nothing out of the ordinary for him. why did you yell at him? fuck, are you a horrible girlfriend?? - oh boy, now the tears are welling up too - "yn?" luffy whispers as he slips into the room, closing the door behind him and now you're really crying - i mean look at him, why did you yell at him? - "im so sorry, i don't know why i yelled at you, that was so shitty of me-" "hey, it's okay" he's hugging you tight, "you did nothing wrong, i can be a little bit dumb sometimes. i should have not taken your food" "what? no, i am not mad about that. i, i dunno-" you sniff, "maybe i'm just pms-ing?" "huh??" - took a while for him to remember but now that you've jogged up his memory, he looks so guilty, so, he spends the entire evening apologizing and offering you food, he even promises that he wouldn't point out dolphins every time he sees them (you had to reassure him that he can continue doing that)
- but now onwards, this lovely himbo tries to keep in check what he's saying, often giving you a lingering look as if asking "this is fine right?"
- but now you've got your personal defender!! - ussop made a joke and you're not laughing (because it wasn't that funny tbh) and luffy is ready to smack ussop and tell him to "not annoy" you. zoro is being dumb and luffy can see it on your face that he's pissing you off lowkey, so, he will actually tell zoro to not be a dick - mf just starts picking up fights left and right for your sake and now you have to give him another long ass lesson to make it stop - ps: he does not stop. - this man turns into a chihuahua, anything bothering you must be struck down. - very, very observant from now on too. he needs to make sure you're feeling good - also asked sanji to make your favourite desert - he just loves you so much and wants you to be as comfortable as possible (still doesn't know how female anatomy works though-)
a/n: omg i luv him such a dumbass
zoro's link <3 sanji's link <3
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nothing-tolose · 7 months ago
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All Because I Liked A Girl.
A/N: HII FIRST TIME WROTE THIS FIC. English isn't my first language and I'm still learning, I hope u guys can understand me;) If there's anything wrong please let me know! xoxo
Divider credits to @cafekitsune <3
Part 2
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You were so in love with her. You weren't sure how many times you think that you're the luckiest girl alive because you're dating your girlfriend, Ellie Williams.
Your girlfriend that you dreamt about since you got into high school a year ago. You always thought that it would be impossible if she can be your girlfriend in the future, or at least to be your friend. But it changed when she talked to you for the first time six month ago, when you accidentally bumped her and your drink was spilled to the ground.
You started talking with her after that, since you both have a lot common interests. Three weeks passed, Ellie started to calls you with some petnames such as princess, angel, muffin or even bae. You never asked her why, and you didn't want to ask.
It was perfect. So perfect that you never really thought it'd be end up so bad.
You just got into your second monthversary and you had a really really good time with your picnic date with her. God, you wish you can stay here like this forever.
But happiness won't last long.
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You woke up by the ring on your phone beside you.
You wondering why. I mean, who the fuck is gonna call you this morning? Today isn't a weekday though. You took your phone and staring at the screen and it was your friend who's calling you, Lauren.
"Lau, I just woke—" You stopped your words as you hear how she breathe, it seems like there's something wrong, "Lauren, are you okay?" You asked.
"Am I supposed to be okay?" She sounds so infuriated, "Oh my fucking God, you're being a hot topic on school's blog and everyone's talking about you, Ellie, and her ex, Anne. And I haven't found the original post yet so please don't—"
You hang up the phone before Lauren finished talking, your fingers were scrolling up and down into the browser and school blog. You didn't do anything wrong, didn't you? And you never be a hot topic before so you got a little confused and nervous. The first thing you saw, is someone in anonymous replies was talking about you.
Oh, so Lauren wasn't joking.
"What's going on here?" You whispered, "Don't check the other replies, don't check the other replies..."
Your fingers definitely doing the opposite.
@sourgutspill33d
so she stole ellie from anne? such a shame
@miiiddastorch
ellie was just playing with her, guys :( HAHA
@ssal478283.18
I WAS RIGHT. she's a slut by stealing someone's girlfriend. ugh, and if she still have a face to appear in school this monday im gonna kick her ass and fucking spit on her
@plhrmc
ANNE DONT WORRY IM GONNA BRING ELLIE BACK TO YOU <3333
Your eyebrows furrowed, jaw dropped as you didn't believe on what you just saw through your phone.
No, really, you couldn't even tell what is going on right now. Everyone was talking really really bad to you, they were crossed the line.
Ellie? Anne? And you?
"What the fuck did I do?"
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aalien-s · 1 year ago
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I cant stop thinking about trolls, specifically Floyd. Finally decided to just go wild and draw fanart. Im going insane over this little guy
HE IS THE SIZE OF MY FINGER
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Pretty short theory/rant under cut
I also really love the idea that he’s been hanging out with the rock trolls since the brothers separated. It could even kinda make sense. His looks kinda remind me of something you could see a rock troll looking like, just mess up his hair a bit. Ofc he has wayy too bright colors to be a rock troll, but he was born as a pop troll. (I can just imagine how much he would stand out oml.) Not to mention, Prince D said in the second movie that trolls can enjoy more than just one type of music. He was also apparently kidnapped 2 months prior to the movie, and the second movie was just a week before the third, meaning Floyd had been missing for 1 month and 3 weeks by the time of the second movie. Someone would probably try to look for him, but after a while of no signs they could’ve just assumed him dead and given up. By the time of the movie the rock trolls wouldn’t even think to ask anyone of the other tribes about him, because he’d been missing for a while and because the whole rock-apocalypse was going on. Only reason i can see it not working is if the rock trolls were against any type of music the entire time and either would’ve just kicked him out or forced him to only play rock (which i don’t believe Floyd would be able to do). Really going into theory mode here: Floyd showing up could be what made Queen Barb find out about the other tribes and first get the idea of the world tour, but only starting to plan it after Floyd disappears and they fail to find him.
I would also love if this was true and every time Floyd plays rock music he gets aggressive and scares the sht out of his brothers lol.
I literally came up with the oc as i drew this, i just wanted some random guy for the pose and suddenly i had a character. He’s just someone that basically clung himself to Floyd immediately when he got to the village. Bro’s kind of a bully but he’s also a loser. (Just wanna say I’m not the type of person that ships ocs with canon, and i’m not doing it here) They end up having a sort of rivalry, as Floyd gets better at Rock and manages to mix it with his pop, he gets a bit popular. Meanwhile Brick has never really tried to gain an audience, but when Floyd gets followers and Brick was already challenging him, he ultimately gets some attention too. They sort of team up and become a duo, but they ensure that they’re still rivals. Inevitable though, they become friends, hang out a lot, sing and dance, like normal trolls. Brick teaches Floyd some specific things about rock and Floyd tells him about his tribe and brothers. Brick would be the devastated when Floyd got kidnapped and would be the last to stop searching. (Never stopped hoping he was alive though). Of course though, he is a rock troll and theres no way he would show how much he cares about Floyd.
Im currently working on colored designs of Brick and Rock!Floyd
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starsnsparkl3s · 4 months ago
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broken promises
cw: heavy mentions of death and suicidal thoughts, angst, based on this scene from greys anatomy with no context
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"when are you going to stop suggesting that im suicidal?"
the question sounds also bizarre coming out of your lips. you and al haitham have been going back and forth about your results from the impromptu search nahida and the esteemed traveler did, along with paimon. you were a suspect in a dream that needed to be destroyed immediately, however, what they saw was worse than the dream that was the main goal.
dark images flickered around them, unlike all the previous dreams, full of emotions and color. hallucinations of various shades of red surrounded them, it felt as if they were being suffocated from being in your head to begin with. of course, for your own health, they told your husband, al haitham, about the pictures they saw. he tried talking to you about it, which resulted in the conflict in front of you now.
he took your weapon away from you, the weapon you used to protect sumeru, not caring if you put your life on the line. it was your job after all, but not even cyno was that careless.
"when you start acting like someone who wants to be alive."
your eyebrow raised, scoffing. as much as you loved al haitham, he really was insufferable sometimes and moments like this are were you wished he wasn't so stubborn. however, you were stubborn as well.
"give me my weapon back."
"why?”
" because im not suicidal and if you believe that, you’re wrong. "
now it was his turn to scoff. he put his hand on his hip and stared at you. the person he fell in love with, void of sentiment and passion. you still looked as lovely as the first time he met you but now you looked just as dead as carcasses he'll see in the desert. a few seconds pass before he responds.
"what happened last year when you fell in the water?”
your blood ran cold as the words left his mouth. last year you were trying to save a group of kids that were playing in one of the construction sites, which wasn't sturdy whatsoever. as you saved all the kids, one by one, the wood holding up the base of the building fell into the water. one of the kids started crying, saying how they needed to go in the water to get their photograph.
it was a photograph of them and their parents, who apparently passed. and you went in there. without a second thought. the water pricked your skin because of how cold it was, but you still went in and got that photograph. after you got out, soaked with the picture still in tack, the kids thanked you profusely and left. you passed out soon after, the hypothermia and the water pressure almost taking you out. al haitham wasn't pleased but nothing he could say could ever change your mind.
"i almost drowned! you think i did that for kicks?”
"you went in a body of water that was CLEARLY too cold and too deep for you to handle.”
"i was trying to save his picture!”
your head pounded with nothing. you were frustrated of course, but your body didn't feel anything. you couldn't tell that your headache was a migraine, it just felt, heavy.
"why is it, that every person there, even cyno, had the sense to leave and run from the danger besides you?”
you went to quip back but he continued.
"you know, people run away from this line between life and death. you just seem to stand on it as if it's a tightrope in the middle of the hurricane, waiting for it to push you one way or the other.”
you crossed your arms. you'd hate to admit it, but he was right. you didn't see an actual purpose into living besides protecting sumeru. you never had an urge to run for safety
"you're careless with your life. you're not trying to kill yourself, but you're careless."
your eyes filled with tears with his words. your head felt heavy and dizzy, your vision going in and out like a bad '50s movie. your body shook in some emotion you couldn't even tell at this point. you knew he wanted to help and he was worried, al haitham has always been like this. pushy and unforgiving with hid care.
“i am NOT carele-!”
“not even cyno would pull the shit you do. not even the TRAVELER THEMSELVES, would pull the shit you do. all three of you do implausible nonsense warranting such-”
“I DO IT FOR THE PEOPLE OF SUMERU,” your voice softening from the sudden uproar as the next few words leave your mouth, “…and you know that al haitham.”
his heart feels like it got chipped with one of liyue’s finest pickaxes. strong enough to break the outside but careful enough to preserve the inside. his voice wavers, but his next words make the tears from your eyes fall harder.
“no, you do it for yourself. you do it just for the chance of losing your life. just for the off chance, that you get caught in the storm and you die with a purpose.”
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an: im back!!!!!!! ignore how bad this is i finished it at 5am so i had something for you guys…. apologies!
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solitary-bones · 8 months ago
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ALL THE KIDDAD - TEEN REUNIONS OH MY GOD
like fucking love wolf sparrow!!!!!!! fucking finally proud of his son oh my fucking god sparrow. I can't believe it took his son saving the fucking world for him to be proud of him. like sparrow.... please. s1 sparrow would eat s2 sparrow alive. anyways. his mom tho!!! Rebecca is back!!!!
GRANT & LINK AUGHHHHHH the like enthusiastic boss kicks!!! to like I need you to be my dad again we're both broken shit like AUGHHHH and the GOOD HUG AUGHHHHHHH they are so important to me actually. Also Marco covering grant and lincons eyes with both his hands implies that he was still watching and wasn't really fazed so all of the assassin Marco truthers are winning.
TAYLOR AND NICK AND CASSANDRA OH MY GOD. Him choosing his stable relationship with his mom over dealing with his absent father is so based!!! getting the representation that you don't have to reconcile with shitty parents!!! I love it. like obviously like any other dndad fan I hope they can have a relationship in the future but if they don't it's fine! it's totally up to Taylor! shout out to Freddie for deciding to have the most fucked up family line with the most fucked up generational trauma.
SCARY AND TERRRYYYY IM SCREAMING. FUCKING HER CALLING HIM HER DAD LIKE OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD AND THE HUG AND TERRY CRYING AND OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM IM SO HAPPY THEYRE FINALLY HAPPY AND WHOLESOME. scarys character development is actually something that can be so personal
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lovebvni · 5 months ago
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holaaa!! (dr rant + just an appreciation post)
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(TW SLIGHT HINT TO GROOMING)
soo i’m shifting soon and i decided that im going to make my first album when i get there (LIKE START JT, DUDE. START IT. IM SO EXCITED) there’s going to b an ep i’m going to finalize when i get there and it will be released on the 26th of the month i get there (as it is kinda a diss on a MAN who was 26 when we dated… i was a minor still.)
i’m also gonna make a family tree because i’m really bored (and i also kinda js wanna see all my siblings yk? im gonna draw them all soon bc like AUGH AJAJDKDJ I MISS THEM!!!)
omgz i’m so excited dude!!
(appreciation below!!)
also i saw billie eilish in my dream last night. one of the funniest and sweetest people i know 😭 SHARK WAS ALSO IN THAT DREAM HES SO SWEET ‼️‼️ god i wish i could hug them today, just right now. yall don’t understand how much billie and finneas have been through together, and im so proud of how far they made it. i love you both, and although you won’t see this post in this reality, i know you will when we r together :DDD u guys make me so happy, so inspired, and just a better person overall. also huge thank you to billie in helping me with directing my music videos and being featured in one of my favorite songs — ripple effect. thank you finneas for just 😭 for keeping her alive, giving her a passion, and being so protective and supportive of her.
i’m so excited to b friends w both of them n js talk to them daily — it’s so fun.
i’m also super duper excited to meet one of my closest friends — nile — in person finally!!!! it’s been like 3 years of shifting together, and i know she’s excited too. i know she’s reading this, btw so i love u sm nile and thank u for being such a great and perfect friend throughout this whole journey. i truly don’t think i would still be kicking without you. i owe you the world, and i know you’re going to be blessed with many MANY things in the coming months, and the years following will be some of your best, but that’s only a taste of what is truly to come.
i’m so proud of you, and i’m also so round of everyone that has been clinging onto shifting even though it hurts. i’m always here for you. i love you all so so much. i want the best for you, and i know you’re going to get it. i’m always here to help in ANY way i can. ask me anything, i promise you i will answer with the wisdom God and the universe has given me!!
i cannot express my gratitude to my father, loki, enough. i don’t know how to even put it into words. he’s been there at my hardest, he’s been there at my best. i don’t think i would actually even be this far without him either. he’s one of the silliest and sweetest people ive ever met. i can’t believe he’s my FATHER you guys!! ITS SO COOL AUGHH
i also have so many people here i need to thank, there’s more that i can think of right now but just know i love and appreciate every one of you guys.
staring with @smellofemale!! you were such a sign when i met you. i don’t think i’ve met a christian shifter — you’re the only one i still talk to if i have! im just so so sooo blessed to have met you. i don’t know what to say, dude! i love you so much. you’re so sweet, so kind, and so inspiring. i love you!
@eneablack although you’re one of my newest friends, you’re another really really inspirational one. you’re so open about your struggles with shifting, even though you’ve had success time and time again. it shows me and many others how shifting sometimes is a hard thing to get used too, even with successes under your belt!
@daisys-reality! if you don’t know them, FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY PLEASE OMGGJAJSN she gives some of the best and most accurate readings i could ever ask for. also her drs (specifically her mermaid one) have inspired me so much!!
@kanachaka UR AO COOL BRO I JS LOVE SEEING UR POSTS AJSJDKDJD
@kazylynn i love u sm!! u rlly show me i can be an inspiration to others, and that’s something i’ve hoped for all my life. i want to be a good, helpful person — and i love you for showing me i can be.
@babybearthepsychic a few months ago you gave me a free reading that was just so accurate and so real. i don’t know if i would still be on this spiritual journey without it, because i was at one of my hardest points then. i cannot believe how just truly accurate and kind you are. i love you so much, you’re doing amazing. i wish i could give you the biggest hug, and i could donate like a million dollars to u rn but i literally don’t have a job 😭
@zipperrants i don’t think i rlly need to explain this… dude i thought u we’re so cool even when u we’re js interacting with @maddies-chronicles and i rlly wanted to interact w u so bad but i was so so scared bro!! and thank u hale for giving me the opportunity to meet them!!
@accidentalshifter YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MANY PEOPLE U REPRESENT IN THIS RESLITY — YOURE ONE OF THE FIRSR ADULT SHIFTERS I SAW ON HERR AND IM SO SO SO SO SOOO FUCKING HQPPY YOURE SO OPEN ABOUT IT! you’re just so free and it’s beautiful. i love you so much
and there are so many more but i just.. im gonna cry i love you all tooo much.. please know u all mean so much to me and i can’t wait to tell u so many stories when i get back, and help u guys shift. i am working so hard to post more, and i pray this post can help me become more active.
so so so much love, to everyone in this community, you’re so wonderful. may the gods bless you.
so much love, peace and joy
the abyss
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daryltwdixon · 22 days ago
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The Promise of Us: Chapter 11
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warnings: violence against mfc, also im so sorry for my terrible writing when it comes to action scenes.
You
The door creaks open, and your stomach twists with dread, thinking the tall man–the Governor–is back. But when your eyes come up and meet the icy blue ones at the door, your shoulder slump just an inch. You’re still unsure when Merle comes walking in the room, but it's still a relief to see him. What if after all this time, the pain you caused Daryl all those years ago was still fresh in his mind. And he was going to take it out on you now?
“Well, well, well... ain’t this somethin’.” Merle’s gravelly voice cuts through the silence, dripping with his usual sarcasm. The door slams shut behind him, and he saunters into the room, his boots scuffing the floor as he approaches.
He’s standing there, grinning like he’s just won something, but his eyes flicker with something else—something softer, buried deep beneath that rough exterior. He won’t show it outright, of course. Not Merle.
“Didn’t expect to see you here, sweetheart,” he drawls, crossing his arms as he leans casually against the wall, his metal prosthetic gleaming under the bright lights above you, “Guess you couldn’t stay outta trouble, huh?”
You don’t answer, but you can feel his eyes on you, scanning for any sign of weakness. There’s a teasing gleam in his eyes, but there’s something else too. Relief, maybe? It’s hard to tell with him.
“Still playin’ the silent type, huh?” Merle chuckles, shaking his head. “Ain’t nothin’ changed since I last saw ya.” His voice softens just a fraction, barely noticeable. “Thought maybe you were smarter than this—gettin’ yourself caught up with the wrong people.”
You roll your eyes, but the tension doesn’t leave your body. “Could say the same about you,” you mutter, refusing to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.
He chuckles, low and rough. “These guys found me when I was in a real rough state, honey.” He takes a step closer, his usual swagger a little less pronounced, but his grin doesn’t falter. “Hell, look at us—reunited like some kinda twisted family reunion. Shame little brother ain’t here to see it.”
At the mention of Daryl, your stomach tightens. You wonder if Merle knows he’s alive, but his expression doesn’t give anything away. He steps closer, his eyes flicking to the ropes still around your wrists.
“You look like hell, girl,” he says, his tone rough but lacking the bite it usually has. “Guess I’ll have to keep your ass outta trouble, huh?”
You snort. “Don’t need your help.”
He smirks, amused. “Sure you don’t.” His gaze lingers on you, just for a second too long, before he shakes his head and looks away. “Lucky for you, I got some pull ‘round here. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with ya while I’m around.”
You found that hard to believe when you still felt the ghost of the breath on your neck from the man who just left minutes ago. Merle moves to the chair in the corner, dragging it noisily across the floor as he plops down into it. He kicks his feet up on the table like he owns the place, leaning back with that signature cocky grin plastered on his face.
“So,” he says, crossing his arms behind his head, his voice a little too casual, “you gonna tell me how the hell you ended up here, or am I gonna have to drag it outta ya?”
You glare at him, refusing to answer. He just laughs, shaking his head like you’re a joke he’s enjoying too much.
“Fine, fine. Keep your secrets, sweetheart,” he says, his voice softening again, almost affectionate, though you know better than to take it at face value, “But don’t think I’m lettin’ you outta my sight. Ain’t no way I’m losin’ you again. My brother would kill me,”
Something stirs in your chest at his words—just for a second, the familiar warmth of the Merle you once knew. Despite all his rough edges, all the damage he’d done, a part of you still cared for him like family. He was, after all, someone you’d loved like a brother, even with his many flaws. He never wanted you to leave for college back then, never wanted Daryl to be stuck alone at home with their father.
But that was a lifetime ago.
Now, things were different. Merle was in a strange position of power here—dangerous, unpredictable. He wasn’t the same man you once knew. Sweet or not, there was an edge to his words, a darkness behind his smile that made your skin crawl. He was too unhinged to be fully trusted, even if his words tugged at memories of who he used to be.
“Merle,” you whisper, your eyes on his, “Where are Glenn and Maggie?”
He looks down with a smug smile, “Now, girl. You gotta understand, the Chinese kid wasn’t playin’ very fair back there. Wouldn’t tell me where he’s camped out. You’re with em, right?” 
“He’s Korean, asshole,” you roll your eyes, but sigh, thinking of the state they must be in nearby, looking to the wall as if you could see them through it, bloodied and bruised, and hang your head.
“Y/N,” he calls gently, and your eyes come up to him again with tears in them, “you know where my brother is, don’t ya?” it’s barely a question, just a statement. 
Your chin trembles, but you nod slowly. The weight of everything—the capture, the fear, the thought of Glenn and Maggie—sits heavy in your chest. And now, the mention of Daryl brings a wave of guilt and longing crashing over you. You can’t hide it from Merle, not now.
Merle’s smug smile falters, just for a second. He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “Figured as much,” he grumbles, the rasp in his voice rougher now, “But you ain’t said nothin’ ‘bout him. Why’s that?”
“Why do you think, Merle?” you snap back, your voice shaking. “You think I want to talk to you about Daryl? You think I wanna tell you how he’s doin’? Look where I’m fuckin’ sitting,”
Merle’s grin fades entirely now, the cocky veneer slipping. He looks at you with a hard expression, but something else flickers in his eyes—regret, maybe, or something close to it.
You swallow hard, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill over. “You don’t know him like you used to, Merle. He’s different now. Stronger, yeah, but… he’s got people who care about him, who depend on him.”
“And you’re one of ‘em, huh?” Merle leans back in the chair, crossing his arms, his tone unreadable. “You two always had a way of stickin’ close. What’s the deal now, huh? You finally screw my little brother or what?”
You don’t answer, just shake your head, rolling your eyes again. You’d almost forgotten how much Merle could give you a headache with the constant eye-rolling his words provoked.
“God, Merle, you’ve really always had a way with words,” you mutter, your sarcasm laced with the frustration you can’t fully hide.
“Aw, baby, I miss’d ya too,” he chuckles, leaning back in his chair with that familiar grin, clearly enjoying himself.
A long silence follows, stretching between you. Merle may be taking it easy, but your mind is racing. You weren’t going to get out of here in one piece, maybe not even alive, if you left it up to The Governor. You can feel time slipping through your fingers. You had to figure out where the other two were, and fast. Your pulse quickens as you glance at Merle again. He may be toying with you, but he’s your only chance. Could you trust him again? Even after all this time? This world changed people. You just hoped Merle still had loyalty to you and his brother.
“Where are they, Merle?” you ask again, this time more urgently. “Glenn and Maggie. What’s he gonna do to them?”
Merle shifts in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “The boss wants info. Where your camp is, who’s left. Kid wasn’t spillin’ nothin’. Pretty girl’s tougher than she looks too. They’re holdin’ up, but… let’s just say the clock’s tickin’.”
Your heart races. Time is running out, and you know what that means for Glenn and Maggie. For all of them.
“You gotta help me get them out,” you whisper, leaning forward, your voice pleading. “You can’t let him hurt them.”
Merle chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “And what exactly do I get outta that? Huh?”
You hesitate, the weight of what you’re about to suggest pressing down on you. “If you help me get them out safely… I’ll take you to Daryl. I’ll tell you where our camp is.”
Merle’s face hardens, the grin disappearing completely. He stands slowly, pacing a few steps away from you, his mind working over what you just said. The promise of seeing his brother again, after all this time… it’s almost too much for him to process. But then, something darker creeps into his expression, a shadow of doubt.
“And how do I know you ain’t gonna screw me over the second you’re outta here? You’re clever, Y/N. Always were.” He turns to you, his eyes cold. “What’s to stop you from runnin’ back to lil’ brother and leavin’ ol’ Merle to fend for himself?”
You meet his gaze, the fear in your chest almost choking you, but you push it down. You need him. “You know I’m not that kind of person,” you whisper. “And if we don’t get out, you’ll never see him again. We need each other right now, Merle. You know that.”
He watches you for a long moment, the gears turning in his head. Then, with a heavy sigh, he leans against the wall, his arms crossed, the knife at the end of his bionic arm reflecting the fluorescents above you, “Alright, girl,” he drawls, the cockiness returning just a little. “We got ourselves a deal. But you better not be lyin’, ‘cause I’m doin’ this for him.”
Relief floods through you, but it’s short-lived. There’s still one more obstacle to overcome.
“If we’re gonna do this… it has to look real,” you say quietly, your voice trembling.
Merle’s smirk fades, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your words. “What’re you sayin’?”
“I’m sayin’… if you don’t make this look like you interrogated me, he’ll know something’s up,” you explain, your stomach twisting. “The Governor. He can’t suspect you’re helpin’ me.”
Merle’s face hardens again, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something close to pain in his eyes. “I've never been afraid of my baby brother, ya know,  but he would kill me if I hurt ya, baby,” he says, his voice rougher, more strained.
“It doesn’t matter, Merle,” you say, your own voice unsteady but firm. You can see Daryl’s pained eyes behind your own now, the way he always hated seeing you hurt, but you sigh as you continue, “Neither of us will ever see him again if you don’t make this look legit.”
He stares at you for a long moment, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. For all his bravado, you know this is weighing on him—hurting you, even just for show, is too much, but that's more than he’s ready to admit. But he also knows you’re right. If the Governor doesn’t buy it, they’re all as good as dead.
Merle swallows, the lines on his face deepening as he nods slowly, understanding settling in. “Alright,” he mutters, his voice low and grim. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
You nearly scoff, a small wry smile coming to your lips, “Please, the amount of times I kicked you in the nuts growin’ up, I’ll consider it Karma comin’ back to get me,”
❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥
Daryl
The sun has completely dipped below the horizon now, leaving only the pale light of the moon to cut through the suffocating darkness around them. The group moves quietly, swiftly, weaving through the maze of abandoned cars that lie scattered ahead of the imposing gates. Daryl’s heart pounds, the tension in his muscles building as they creep closer to the towering walls of Woodbury. The walls loom large, casting long, intimidating shadows in the moonlight. There had to be a way in. There’s movement behind him, and the woman that was with them is off, slithering through the dark, keeping in the shadows. Rick tries to call after her in a hiss, but it’s no use. She’s gone.
“Dammit,” he whispers, backing up between Oscar and Daryl, “alright, we need to downsize,”
“Ain’t no way we’re gonna check in all them buildings,” Daryl says quietly, “not with all them guards there,” he looks up to watch the men walking back and forth, surveying. But then, a twig snaps behind them and they all turn quickly. The woman–Michonne, is back. Oscar, Rick, and Daryl all look at each other, and nod to follow her. 
Slinking through the darkness, keeping up with the shadows, they make their way forward.
❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥
You
The pain reverberating in your head has only climbed higher with each punch Merle’s thrown. His fist connects again with your jaw, and you feel a sharp crack, a new wave of agony shooting through your face. Your cheekbone throbs, the skin hot and swollen where his knuckles landed hard.
Merle steps back for a second, his breathing heavy, looking down at you with a mix of frustration and regret. His face hardens, though you catch the brief flicker of guilt in his eyes. “Ain’t no other way,” he mutters under his breath, almost like he’s convincing himself. “You know this. We gotta sell it.”
You nod, swallowing down the taste of blood pooling in your mouth. You both know the plan—the Governor can't suspect anything. If you don’t look the part, this whole thing could blow up in both your faces. But knowing doesn’t make it hurt any less.
He throws another punch, this time aiming for your gut. The impact is brutal, forcing the air from your lungs with a sharp gasp. You double over instinctively, feeling the bruises already forming beneath your skin, every muscle aching from the force of it.
“Sorry,” he growls, his voice low and hoarse, his hand shaking just slightly as he pulls it back again. He hesitates, and for a split second, you can see the war waging inside him—this isn't easy for him, either. But you nod again, pushing through the pain, urging him to finish what he started.
His fist comes down one more time, connecting with your cheekbone. The blow sends a sharp, white-hot flash through your vision, the skin splitting under his knuckles. You can barely keep your eyes straight, vision blurring as you blink, your hands instinctively twitching, wanting to fly to the side of your face where the impact hit hardest.
Merle steps back, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his expression unreadable now. “That’s enough,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. He lowers his fists, his hands trembling slightly. “It’s gotta look real—but it ain’t gotta kill ya.”
Your body aches, every movement sending shockwaves of pain rippling through you, but you straighten up as much as you can. Blood trickles from the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin, and you know you look the part now—battered, beaten, broken.
He steps closer, not with the same aggression but with something softer in his eyes. He grips your shoulder with his hand, helping you steady yourself, even though you wince at the touch. “You good?” he asks, voice low and rough, barely audible.
You nod, spitting out a mouthful of blood, trying to breathe through the throbbing ache. You swear you see him flinch at the idea of hurting you, but he cups your face in his one good hand, his palm under your chin. With his thumb on your cheek and forefinger under your jaw, he lifts your head to get a good look at your face, “Well–nothin that will change the way you look once you’re all healed– think Daryl would kill me if I did anything to that face,” he pauses, a grin ghosting over his features and your eyes meet his, tired and resigned.
But that’s when you see it—the apology, the regret etched in his hardened eyes, a flicker of the brother you once knew. “Really am sorry, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice gravelly and low. And he drops your face and leaves the room without another word.
❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥
Daryl
They move quickly through the darkened buildings, and after running into a Woodbury citizen in the first one, they finally make their way out into the town. Gunfire cracks through the air, coming from across the way. Daryl’s pulse quickens as they press into the shadows of the houses, peeking around corners. Firelight flickers off the streets, casting a glow from a bonfire, and Daryl can just make out what looks to be a main building. It looks more authoritarian than the others, which are all smaller houses and old refurbished shops. The group stills while he checks around the corner, and on his OK and they fly through the streets unseen, and slip into the building. Filing down the halls with stealth between shadows, through the maze of metal walls and supplies, they come to a barrier, and crouch quickly when they hear voices.
“...Glad we could catch up,” a voice echoes from the other side of the wall, footsteps and orders coming in a rush. They’re in the way. No time. Daryl throws the flashbangs, the hallway bursting into chaos. Smoke billows, and they charge in with weapons raised.
Daryl grabs Maggie’s arm as Rick pulls Glenn. There’s gunshots, shouting, utter chaos, but they got them. There’s no stopping—no room for hesitation. Daryl’s stomach knots as they sprint toward the exit. Y/N’s not here. Not with them. He can’t find her in the smoke. His mind screams to panic, but he shoves it down. Not now.
Once back outside, they hug the walls, slipping through the shadows like ghosts.
“Inside, quick!” Rick hisses when they hit the town square, all of them squeezing into a cramped shed.
Daryl drops Maggie’s arm and heads to the back, searching for a way out. He runs his hand along the wall but comes up short. “Ain’t no way out back here,” he growls.
Behind him, Maggie’s voice trembles. “Rick, how did you find us?”
Rick ignores the question, his eyes coming around to Glenn. “How bad are you hurt?”
“I’ll be alright,” Glenn mumbles, his voice thick with pain. Daryl gets a clear look at him now—shirtless, one eye swollen shut, blood dripping down his battered face. It twists something deep inside Daryl. Glenn looks barely able to move.
“Where’s that woman?” Maggie blurts, her face pale, eyes blown wide in terror. Daryl’s eyes scan the group. They’re one short.
Rick’s jaw tightens. “She was right behind us.”
Daryl’s heart hammers as he steps forward, voice sharp. “Was Y/N with y’all when you were taken?”
Both Maggie and Glenn shake their heads. Daryl’s stomach drops. His mind claws for hope—maybe she’s still out there. Maybe she made it to the woods. He swallows hard, praying she did.
“Daryl–” Glenn says suddenly, his voice cutting through the room, loud and raw. “This was Merle.”
Daryl freezes, the words not registering at first. He stares at Glenn, wide-eyed.
“It was him,” Glenn repeats, scowling. “He did this.”
Daryl blinks, trying to catch his breath. “You saw ‘em?” Rick asks, his voice taut.
“Face to face,” Glenn nods, anger simmering beneath his bruises. “Threw a walker at me—was gonna execute us.”
Daryl’s mind reels. “So—so my brother’s this governor?” The words feel wrong in his mouth, like he can’t believe he’s saying them.
Maggie answers, shaking her head. “No. It’s somebody else. Your brother’s his lieutenant or something.”
“Does he know I’m still with you?” Daryl asks, disbelief creeping into his voice.
“He does now,” Glenn growls. “Rick, I’m sorry, we told him where the prison was. We couldn’t hold out—”
Rick cuts him off, shaking his head. “Don’t. No need to apologize.”
The conversation shifts around Daryl, but he can’t focus. They’re getting Glenn to his feet, talking about their next move, but Daryl’s thoughts are spinning—Merle is alive.
“Hey—if Merle’s around, I need to see ‘em,” Daryl blurts, desperation creeping into his tone.
Rick gets in his face, his voice tight. “Not now, we’re in hostile territory.”
“He’s my brother,” Daryl snaps, his breath quickening. “I ain’t—”
“Look what he did! We gotta get out of here, now!” Rick shouts.
Daryl’s eyes are wide, and they turn pleading. “Maybe I can talk to ‘em. Work somethin’ out.”
Rick shakes his head fiercely. “No, no, no. You’re not thinkin’ straight. Look—Glenn can barely walk. How are we gonna get out if we get overrun by walkers or the Governor catches up to us? I need you. Are you with me?”
Daryl’s chest heaves. His mind is a war zone, torn between Merle and the group. He clenches his jaw, weighing the options fast. Finally, after a long beat, he meets Rick’s gaze and says, “Yeah.”
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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago
Note
Hiii
Idk if you have done this before but a Morpheus x reader one where Dream has been recently set freed and is so touched deprived that when he met up with reader once mode after being separated for a century he can't control himself and it leads to some sexy stuff in which it leads to them breaking the bed (kinda like the honeymoon scene in twilight 🤭)
Just straight up desperate needy Morpheus hours 🫶🏻
Caged
Dream of the Endless x Demon Hunter!Reader
Summary: Dream has made himself believe that he is alone in the world, nothing has further solidified this that being imprisoner for a century. Who'd have thought he'd find warmth in one of the coldest people alive.
Word Count: 5k+
Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (biting, marking, dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, oral [m receiving], edging ig?, unprotected sex, brat!dream idk it just happened, praise kink [uh... reader talks to him like a god during sexy time so]), hurt/comfort ig, reader's so angry HAHAHH T_T, fluff, etc.
A/N: im not in the mood for smut but i might be when i write this. update MINORS DNI hello nonnie i am finally in the mood for smut HAHHAAHHA and i am in the mood to ruin dream's life (: i took a lot of creative liberties i have no idea why i made this so long so i hope you enjoy it my dear <3 another day another 5k smut fml Also i invented a lot of stuff for reader, like giving Morpheus a Roman name so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just just just roll with it along with my most definitely wrong google translated Latin ok? ok. Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 @sloanexx anOTHER one (continuation) "Petty And Yours"
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"You know," I swirled a watermelon lollipop in my mouth, "you're so pathetic for that."
A breeze blew back my maxi dress and I crossed my arms at the fact I was being ignored by the uncharacteristically warmly dressed man.
The park bench he was sat in the middle off had some fallen leaves that were slowly tumbling down to the ground with the push of the wind. I give him a moment to respond. I huff at his continued silence.
"Earth to Dream?" I call louder.
Still nothing.
"Somnium Regem?"
A bird makes a sound as a large piece of bread is gobbled down its throat.
"Hey! Sulky trench coat man!" I bark.
Finally, the man feeding pigeons turns to me.
His eyes are dull and bright all at once, a shade of glistening blue that had no life behind them. I raise my brows, lips pulling upward in distaste, "you remind me of that bat in Gotham. So emo for no reason," I scoff, straightening my arms, "everyone's parents die at some point."
"Why are you here, demon hunter?" the being grips his baguette.
I scoff again, "I'm here because I like you, baby."
He turns away from me, tearing up bread, haphazardly then dropping it in front of small creatures. I grimace as the birds flock over to the bread like they had nothing better to do-- which they don't.
"I do not enjoy your bitter sarcasm, eight," Dream says pointedly.
I roll my eyes, walking over to him, fingers rolling the lollipop stick sticking by the side of my mouth, "well, if you didn't ask me stupid-" I push his legs together so that I can sit next to him, "-fucking questions, then maybe I wouldn't want to constantly drop kick you."
Dream hastily moves to the side as I plop down next to him, crossing my legs as I lean back and stretch my arm out on the backrest. I look at him as he looks at me. Wind blows at both of our hair. I move his dark strands along with the breeze so that I would not poke at his already glassy eyes.
He blankly stares.
I shrug in expectance, "Domina told me you've been sulking, and that I'd find you here, just like how she found you here days ago."
Dream blinks, "my sister should not have troubled you with needless concerns."
I furrow my brows at his response. I roll my eyes incredulously, "you are so fucking stupid."
He gives me side eye before turning back to his pigeons.
"You know, for someone who should have a profound understanding of the world, you clearly don't know anything."
The Endless hisses under his breath, "silence."
"What?" I give him a look, "don't like that?"
I can see him almost going against himself as not to sneer at my grilling.
I pout exaggeratedly and speak as though I was a child, "wha' you gon' do 'bout it? You gon' kill me now?" I raise my hands and monotonously hark, "oh no help, I'm so scared."
"I do not know why Death sent for you," he quips, breaking his gaze from the birds to narrow his eyes at me. He continues crumbling bread onto the ground.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I straighten and face forward, "that's because I'm the most irritating bondservant she has," I prop my elbows on my legs, "which is effective for making people want to do my bidding in return for me shutting up."
"I shall not leave," he looks to the feeding animals, "I am keeping the pigeons company," he mutters, "they appear... lonesome."
I wipe my hands on my face, pulling the lollipop out of my mouth as I sigh, "intenta et tenera domina." My eyes twitch in annoyance when I muttered 'the attentive and tender lady' in my mother tongue. "I should have known we were playing therapist today."
I shake my head, popping the candy back in my mouth, grabbing the bread from his hand. He turns to me, helplessly watching, unable to fight against me; he knows I'd bite his finger off if he touches me.
"Ever heard of projecting, Somnia?" I hiss, chucking his baguette as far off as I can.
He watches the projectile disappear into a bush.
He glares at me.
Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "visne noctes noctes te affligere?"
Admittedly, the roll and click of his tongue speaking Latin did make me stiffen, though, 'do you want nightmares to plague you tonight?' was a threat so empty to me.
I sniffle, retorting in the same language, "I haven't visited your nightmarish domain since its castle walls began to crumble."
Dream takes his turn to freeze.
I tilt my head, crushing the lollipop between my teeth, "personally," I pull the stick out my mouth, tucking it in Dream's pocket, who does nothing when I do so, "I take enough trips to hell to not want to visit something that mirrors it so well. Not when I'm supposed to be dreaming of heaven."
I can see how my words strike through him.
I notice how his stoic and pale face hardens and loses its color even more.
I continue to egg him on, "I feel bad for your dreamers who think the drab ones the have at night are the best you can do."
I can almost hear the gloom radiate off him.
I purse my lips and stand, "speaking of nightmares, I caught your nightmare once," I place my hands on my hips, "I thought the gruesome serial killing was demonic in nature, so I tracked the killer, only to find it was no other than your Corinthian."
Dream looks at me, expressionless, as I raise my brows, "did you handle him, Somnium Regem?"
The Dream King looks like he does not want to talk to me at all now. I give him a challenging look and needlessly straighten out his coat for effect.
He straightens up, then brings his hands in his pocket, pulling out a skull that had teeth where his eye sockets should have been.
I look at the thing, feeling a swirl in my stomach, "poor In Oculis."
Dream visibly reacts to the Corinthian's old Latin name, The Eyeless.
He remnant of his creation disappears from the palm of his hand, "how long have you gone without sleep?"
I turn away from him, shrugging at his U-turn back into that conversation, "does it matter? I won't die."
"It matters because Somnium Regem is inquiring this of you."
I turn to him and repeat my answer, "I told you, ever since your castle began to crumble, it's just be me, myself, and coffee."
Somnia stands, towering over me, uncharacteristically high, "you have not slept in a hundred years?"
I look up at him with knit brows, "has anyone slept in a hundred years?"
"Then at once you must-"
"I'm not here-" I grab his collar, tugging him down slightly closer to me, "-to talk about my sleep pattern, Somnia. I'm here to make you stop sulking."
"That is not your forte, demon hunter," he brings his face close to mine, "perhaps if you were from the fifth."
"Fuck you," I snap, getting on my tiptoes to near his stupidly high face, "I'm good at everything."
Somnia grumbles something under his breath.
I release my grip on his coat and snap my fingers, "and besides," I raise my arms out to the side. I take one step back and allow myself to fall backwards. I then dip into the portal I conjured in the ground, swinging up until I was standing on the other side.
I turn over my shoulder, finding Dream was already standing there behind me. I grin, "I'm the only person who knows what it's like to be trapped for a hundred years."
Now in the confines of my home, I strut over to my sofa where an axe was placed and consecutively forgotten, "though, mine was eight hundred."
I turn to Dream, who suddenly looked uncomfortable.
I laugh at him, "wow. You finally feel bad for me? You used to be so indifferent when I mentioned that to you."
My eyes zero in on the note on my axe, hissing at the reminder that I meant to put it away last week. I grab the piece of paper, instinctively crumpling it. I instantly regret my innate inclination to destroy, cursing under my breath, then flattening out the thing.
"Make yourself at home, Morpheus," I rub the paper in my hand, "let me just put this thing back where it came from."
I grab the axe and prop it on my shoulder.
Dream does not make himself at home; he instead follows me as I walk to the weapons room. I give him a look, "I guess you can feed the gremlins in the basement if you want."
"I would rather follow you."
I shrug, "ok then."
I make my way down the hall, and open the light in room once I enter, revealing the age old trinkets and gadgets my family has been using since the first generation. I bring the note to a chamber that then seals the object with the rest of the artifacts like it.
Dream further scrutinizes the thing as I walk to the axe holders. "Constantine?" he says after reading what was written on the note.
I grunt as I put away the borrowed item, "the idiot wanted to borrow this," I motion to the axe in my grip, "I told her she can't touch it, touched it anyway, didn't die" I huff, after securing the axe back in its place. I place my hands on my hips as I turn to Dream, "and now I got a thank you note in return."
Dream turns back to the note that read: Thxxx -Constantine.
"Items of gratitude are the best bait for a soul suckers," I say, then pointing to a bunch of dark hued orbs on a shelf before walking over to him, "almost as good as nightmares."
I reach his side as he looks out to his gift to the sixth, the sixth generation of my family, Nightmare Marbles. They were largish glass spheres that harnesses the darkness of nightmares; a demon's equivalent to chocolate bars.
"And you relived your worst nightmare to procure so much bait, eight?" Dream whispers, turning to me with a tense expression.
I give him a look, "didn't you say my grandma from the third generation was also a sucker for punishment?"
"She did not go through her worst nightmare 78 times to make nightmare marbles."
I turn to the shelf, "damn, you managed to count all that so quickly?"
"Eight, this is-"
"What? I'm genuinely impressed!"
I freeze when he calls out my actual name. He rarely did that. In fact, there were only a few people who knew my real name and did not call me eight. Eight, as in I am from the eighth generation of demon hunters from my family. It became my name because, well, I was the only left, which was why I could not die.
I feel my belly roll at the sound. I clear my throat, weakly speaking, "what?"
"I did not gift that to your grandparents only to have you use it to punish yourself."
"Why would I want to punish myself?" I mutters, "I'm not you."
Dream is silent.
I sigh, walking out of the room, "after living out eight hundred years in hell in one fucking day, you tend to instinctively get fucked up in the brain."
I make my way down the hall, and at the end, Dream was there, already waiting for me. I give him a quick look as I pass him, "the nightmare doesn't hurt me anymore."
"Eight," he calls. I do not stop on this account. I do, however, when he asks, "why are you lying to me?"
I suck in a breath, keeping it deep in my lungs. I feel him walk up to me. I feel him take my hand.
I turn to him, sighing and brows knitting at his affection. He is still towering over me, and don't feel like craning my neck up so I don't look at him. I tighten my grip on his hand, "why are you lying to me?"
When I finally look up at him, he releases a breath. I release his hand and get on my tip toes to grab his cheeks. It was as though his glassy eyes were waiting for this moment to allow the tears to fall.
I knit my brows at the unexpected reaction. I sigh at the sight of him.
"I did not lie to you," he responds like a secret.
"Really?" I speak in disbelief as I wipe tears on his cheeks, "was it the pigeons that were lonesome, or you?"
"... both..."
I fall back onto my feet, hands trailing down to his chest, "you're right. I suck at... comfort..." I take the lapels of his coat between my fingers, "only cause I'm rough around the edges. Sorta like you," I hum, raising a brow at him, "except I can admit to it, whereas you-"
I push his chest, making him walk back all the way to the sofa my axe was moments ago. I force him down, and down he goes, bouncing on the cushion. He looks up at me as I pull away and give him a soft smile, "you need that coaxed out of you."
I was meant walk away from him, but he grabs my thigh before I can.
"Non potes exspectare dicere tale quid me derelinquas."
You cannot expect to say such a thing then leave me.
I look at the hand hooked behind my thigh. I raise my brow quizzically, "I have work."
"I am your work," he says, other hand coming to my other thigh, "your Lady commanded you to take care of me."
I snort, grabbing his chin, "no, she told me to make you stop sulking."
"Yes, she did," he hums, hands trailing down my legs, grabbing the ends of my skirt.
"You were literally crying a moment ago."
"You're a tear in my heart."
"That's a twenty one pilots song."
"And I am eager for you to make me stop sulking."
Dream's eyes are fixed on me s he leans in and begins bunching up the fabric in his palms, slowly bringing them up with his hands.
I release a sigh when his hands make it back where it was before, though perhaps a bit higher this time. I place my hands on his arms, stopping him from continuing. He turns stills like a statue before me.
I nibble my lower lip before speaking, "if we're going to do this, we do this in my terms."
His lips instantly curve up in response. He nods slowly, "in imperio tuo."
On your command.
I push him back upon hearing that, a lump in my throat forming at the words from my mother tongue. I quickly climb on to him, straddling his legs, fingers combing into the roots of his hair by his nape.
I immediately lock his lips with mine. His hands work much quickly this time around, ripping my skirt all the way up, making me raise my hands so that he can pull my dress off me.
I moan against him when his hands begin to scratch up my back. He moans against me when I grind down on him.
I pull away, catching my breath so I could take my turn in undressing him. He moves to help me rid of his ridiculous coat and when he grips his shirt, I hiss at him, giving him a stern look, "don't spoil my fun."
I then push myself off him and bunch up his shirt in my hand, dragging him all the way back to my bedroom.
Once we're there, I push him onto my bed and crawl on top of him, perching on top of his groin, slowly digging my hands into his sides, underneath his clothes.
I reveal his stomach to me, pressing my fingers down the middle of his skin, "so pretty."
His hand trail up my thighs, kneading at the flesh, humming, "yes," he tugs at my panties, "you are quite exquisite."
I chuckle, lips curving into a smile, "aww, you're going to make me blush," I swat at his hands, "hands off."
He reluctantly obeys.
At this point, I rid him off his shirt and his hands immediately move to come back to my thighs. I swat him away again, to crawl down and begin to attentively kiss his chest.
I sigh against him as his hands come to my sides. I feel the purr-like sounds he produces as I suck and graze my teeth on his muscly pec. I hum in approval when I pull away and see the blazing red mark I left on his burning white skin, "if you morph my art off your body, I will give you nightmares."
I begin working on his skin again when he laughs at my words. I feel the vibration on my lips. He rubs my shoulder with his hand, "a titillating thought."
I look at him from where he was looking down at me and bite down on the side of his ribcage. He grunts in response. I raise a brow at him, "it's a threat, Somnia."
His eyes darken, where mine sparkle.
Without warning, he pulls my head back by my hair, and pushes himself up by his other arm, "who do you think you're threatening, child?"
I wince, chuckling under my breath, "clearly this wanton creature beneath me."
He pulls me back by my hair more as he sits up all the way. I make a sound as he grabs my thigh and skids me closer on him.
Dream brings his face close to mine, nostrils flaring, as if in warning.
I chuckle, licking his lips, "remember, sweetling," I tug on his lower lip, releasing it to say, "on my command."
He sucks in a deep breath.
I raise a brow, "you wouldn't want me to leave you, now do you?"
He sighs, releasing my hair.
I push him back down, clicking my tongue as I do so, "naughty boy," I chastise, "wanting to take the reins so badly."
I begin to undo his pants, holding in my laugh at the visible imprint on him, "maybe I should take precautions before undoing you, hmm?"
I push myself off him and leaning to my side. His hands take hold of my waist as I grab something from my bedside table. I look down on him with a grin as his hands knead at me. I shake my head, "off."
Dream stills.
"Get your hands off me, Dream."
He obeys and so I take both his wrists in front of me. The golden serpent bracelet begins to then slither around his wrists. He watches this contraption shackle him and grunts, "you mock me, demon hunter."
I chuckle, moving off him, "well, you're being quite difficult."
Dream helplessly watches as I get off the bed and walk to the side of the room. I hear him try to rip at his cuffs. I laugh as I grab a silver spear, "that was a gift from Jupiter. Try not break it."
I then plummet my spear at the base of my bed. I wiggle a finger at Dream, beckoning him over, "now come over, beloved Somnia."
He does not struggle as he crawls over to me with bound hands.
"On your back," I say, "hands up."
Dream does just that, rolling on his back, bringing his bound wrists to the spear where the serpent then begins to constrict itself.
"Very good, my king."
The king makes a sound of distaste, which I heartily laugh at.
I waste no more time and quickly go to him, ridding him of his remaining clothing like a kid on Christmas morning.
My lips involuntarily part at the size of him, "fuck. I forgot you made yourself... bigger."
I find offence when he chuckles and croons, "will this be a problem?"
"No," I quip quickly.
"Very good, then," he smiles.
I mock, "very good then."
Once it was now just me, him, and his pulsing length, I begin my ministrations. I crawl back on him and grin, grabbing his hardened member, "not quite a watermelon lollipop but-" I cut myself off and take him in my mouth.
He heavily breathes out and shuts his eye. I giggle in approval over his reactions, one hand coming to my core, already slickened with arousal.
I lap my tongue around him before taking him deeper. I press both my hands on his thighs when his legs begin to stir.
I dig my nails into his hips and slowly constrict my teeth around him as I bob my head up and down him. In a sort of challenge for myself, I make an attempt to take him all. The moment he hits the back of my throat however, I begin to struggle and will myself to relax to further take him in.
When I begin to gag, I pull myself off and catch my breath, leaning my weight into, "you did this on purpose," I scoff, "you knew this would happen."
"I am not omniscient," he laughs, "I did not foresee this-"
"Oh fuck you," I cut him off, "I'm going to fucking make you cry."
Oh, you can bet that he found that funny.
His laughter was cut off when I removed my underwear, chucking my panties and bra to where ever, then mounted myself on him. I am glad I am wet enough to take him in but I cannot withhold the whine that I tried to conceal as I did so. Fuck him and his magnum cock.
Well... that was what I was doing.
Once I am on him, he lets out a moan and the pulls at his shackles, making the snake bracelet glow and constrict tighter on him.
I take my turn to laugh this time around, and my core, which was still busy adjusting to the size of him, flutters around him. I don't say it as self-satisfied as I wanted to, "serves you right."
He calls out my name. It makes my stomach roll.
I fell him slowly rock his hips into me and I push down on his chest, whining at his attempts, "stop! Stop! Give me a fucking chance."
He instantly stops and looks up at me with a worried look, "I apologize, I-"
"Shut the fuck up," I shake my head, "the more you speak, the more I want to fuck you up."
Dream presses his lips into a thin line, but he obeys.
After a while, I allow myself to ride him like an eager jockey.
I rock myself on him at a slow pace. I heave in and out at the overwhelming feel of him. My toes curl at the bundle of nerves he hits every time he fills me up to to my fucking stomach.
I sigh as I rub on my sensitive nub as I press my weight forward. I close my eyes and chew on my lip at the sensations. I drag my flesh out of my teeth as I begin to feel pressure build within me.
"More," Dream whines, craning his head up to look at me.
I look down on him, narrowing my eyes, "pretty boys like you don't ask," I mutter, "they beg."
I push my hands on his chest and lean down to give him a kiss, all while keeping the slow pace of my thrusts. When he meets me halfway to take my lips in his, I dodge him, then rub my nose on his, "I said beg. Beg for me."
He moves his head closer to catch my lips, and I pull all the way back, sitting up again to look down on him in disappointment. He whines, pulling his arms, making my contraption glow and constrict all over.
He drops his head in defeat. I chuckle.
"Beg," I call out louder.
Dream gulps, "please."
"What?"
"Please."
"Please, what?" I cease the roll of my hips, "please stop?"
He heaves, lifting his head back up, ripping at his wrist, "please don't stop."
"Mmm," I nod, "but I'm a little confused, my lord," I massage my breasts, "what exactly should I be doing?"
He watches my hands for a moment. I'm amused it actually distracts him. I chuckle, "Earth to Dream?"
Dream sighs.
"Somnia?" I drag out.
"Move your hips," he says breathlessly.
I hum, pretending to debate his words.
"Please," he adds, making me smile.
I rub my wetness on him, "you mean like this?"
Dream sighs, gulping roughly, "no."
"Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have no idea what you mean, my king," I pout, making no attempt to give him what he so clearly wanted.
"Thrust into me," he sputters, "ride me like an eager jockey."
I snort, breaking into a laugh. I feel a rush shoot through me. My hands come up to my cheeks, "you heard that?" I giggle, "dirty, dirty boy, listening to my thoughts."
"Please," he strains, pulling at his binds again. He drops his head, huffing, "please move."
"Well, now that you're asking me so nicely," I muse, shifting on him, hands falling back on his chest. I begin to move up and down, slow and steady, emptying out and getting filled right back in with his stiffened length.
He moans in approval, eyes closing in pleasure. I sigh and lick my upturned lips, "better, baby?"
"Yes," he drags out a breath, "yes, thank you."
I groan at his words, moving a bit faster, "oh fuck, that's hot. Am I making you feel good?"
"Yes. Very good."
I whine, "fuck."
As I move on him, I savor his feel, how he's deliciously stretching me out and how my insides were sucking him in.
I momentarily slow when I hear a strained crackling sound in front of me. What the fuck was that?
It takes me about two seconds to realize it was my bracelet. Oh fuck.
I feel my inside flutter at the possible threat literally about to unravel before me. I lick my lips, "you enjoying yourself, Dream?"
He only moans in response.
"That's not an answer, darling?" I hum, slowing down all over again.
His eyes break open and his jaw tenses. I hear a fucking cracking sound. Is that my spear or my bracelet?
"Come on, use your words, Prince of Stories."
"I want you to move faster," he mutters gutturally.
What the fuck, is that my floor?
"Please?"
I dig into the side of his ribs and give in to his pleas. He moans and shuts his eyes again, but the strain on my bracelet does not waver. I watch as the object burns brighter.
I whimper when Dream begins to move beneath me. I tear my gaze from his wrists to his face, scowling at him, "behave."
To my surprise, he obeys, then whispers, "please kiss me."
I coo at his sentiment, feeling my core for him. I lean over and plant my lips on him. I moan at the feel of his tongue sneaking into my mouth.
I bring my grip onto the mattress and begin moving faster than I have yet. I whine and pull away from him to catch my breath, "giddy fucking up horsey."
It takes me a second to realize what I just fucking said.
The next moment, I grunt and find myself giggling. I crack myself up with how wholeheartedly stupid and dick delirious I've become. As I continue to laugh, I find myself slowing to prioritize my amusement while I screw my eyes shut.
I was soon very clear that it was a poor choice.
All at once, there was a loud snapping sound. The moment I opened my eyes, I behold a broken bracelet and a bent spear. Oh, yeah, and he unamused Dream of the Endless that was now slowly sitting up in front of me.
I release a final chuckle.
My sounds go dry as his hands take my hips and he brings his face closer to me, "I do not appreciate the fact you're so easily distracted while making love to me, my dear."
I grunt when he bucks into me. My arms wrap around his shoulders as my voice hikes up with his movements. I wrap my legs around his torso as I mumble halfheartedly, "we're not making love, we're... we're fucking."
He groans at that, moving in to kiss me feverously. I whine when his fingers rub at my core. Dream pulls away, forehead resting on mine, "you mock me so readily."
"Yeah," I huff, "well you deserve-"
I choke on my next words as I plummet back into my bed where Dream takes the reins fully, rocking into at a tempo that pleased him, and, well, me.
I mindlessly call his name, legs and arms wrapping around him as he moderately fucks into me. My bed creaks at his force.
It doesn't take long for him to speed up.
I whine and screw my eyes shut.
"Is this a good pace? Am I pleasing you?" he mutters against my neck.
I open at the sound of his words. He did not speak with the same taunting tone I had. He asks me this in genuine inquiry, genuinely intent on finding out if he was, in fact, pleasing me.
I pepper his jaw with kisses then nibble on his earlobe before replying, "yes, my sweet boy," I moan, "you can move a little faster if you want to."
"I want to," he quickly responds.
I sigh, "then faster, baby."
He moans and kisses me in response. His movements rip out a deep cry from deep within me as he hastens.
"That's it," I struggle, one hand digging into his unruly hair, pulling at it, "you're doing so good for me. So good."
The king growls against me, sucking at my neck, just below my jaw.
"Fuck," I sigh, "dulcis somnium meum."
My sweet dream.
He adjusts me beneath him, hands coming to thighs, squeezing the area as he presses deeper, "you feel so good around me."
My toes curl at his words and my skin breaks out in goosebumps at his hot breath.
"Pretiosum venatorem," Dream dictates 'my precious hunter,' sucking on the base of my throat, "such beautiful sounds."
My breath quickens with his actions. I roll my head back as my fingers dig into his spine.
"Dic quomodo sentio," he breathes against me, "quaeso."
Tell me how I make you feel... please.
"Good," I whimper, "great," I whine, "et stupri magna." So fucking great.
"Beautiful," he retorts, "so beautiful like this, so beautiful beneath me."
I feel myself coil up around him. He seems to feel it too, since his one hand leaves my thigh to rub at my pulsing heat.
He muses to me in Latin. He speaks poetry to me in my native tongue, praising my lips, my breath, my warmth, and how I was taking him so well.
I return his poetry with deep grunts and age old curses that would make the Roman deities shun me in sore displeasure.
And yet Somnia kisses me, practically eating up my vile words like honey and delivers me into pure adoration, pure fucking ecstasy.
I yelp when I break beneath him. I whine and rip at him, teeth digging into his shoulder, legs constricting around him tighter. The sensation is further intensified when I feel him release into me, pace now maddeningly fast, brutal, and delicious.
"Yes, Dream!" I call, helplessly spiraling under him. "Praise to the Dream Lord," I find myself whining in Latin as I ride out my high and quiver out all the breath that's left in my lungs.
He moans, kissing my cheek, replying in the same language, "I accept you adoration." He takes a moment before dragging out my name from his lips. It makes my stomach roll even further and my body tense tighter.
The Dream Lord takes my thighs into his hands again as he rides the both of us through our peaks, brutal yet caring all at once.
I melt into a bag of boneless flesh the next moment.
When he eventually relents, I catch my breath against his jaw, rubbing my nose on his skin affectionally.
Once he is stagnant above me, he turns to me and places kiss on my lips. After a moment, he pulls away and opens his mouth to speak. He doesn't get to however, as suddenly my bed creaks and all at once, one leg snaps and I squeal as we both slide roughly down to the floor.
I cling onto him for dear life as he pushes up against me, both keeping us from falling any further and poking into the root of my womanhood. My mouth releases a lewd cry in response.
I catch my breath as he lifts his head up and surveys the damage.
"Did you," I pant, "fucking break my bed?"
Dream turns to me, lips barely parting, "I..." he starts, "my apologies."
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