#ME SOBBING ON THE GROUND: :INSPIRATION GAINED:

[darabeatha]

/ H.AKUNO MY MEOWMEOW.....

[saturnitiez]

Will You Remember?

inspired by the song: Will You Remember? by The Cranberries

Childhood memories, mentions of reader being female and in a dress, childhood crushes but they’re stupidly oblivious.

TW: MENTIONS OF KINICH’S CHILDHOOD (i.e. alcohol abuse, child abuse, child abandonment & death)

Im writing this at like 02:00 so please spare me ☹️ I also don’t know where the hell this even goes i was kinda just writing to write so uhm..!

<3 Seeing you, again. For the first time in what he can only assume must have been years. Of course he still remembers you. But why..?

First Meeting

The two of you had first met as children. Kinich had a regrettably bad childhood.

The constant beatings, berating, arguing, was something he had grown all too accustomed to.

Still, he was only human. A child at that. There were times where after his mother had left, and his father was gone, that he’d go out into the forest to gain a sense of self.

The forest acting as a fortress for him, solitude from the outside world.

When he saw the glimpse of someone in his fortress, he was immediately on the ready, hyper aware.

Hiding and peeking around trees, only to see a sniffling girl adorned in a dress. Her hair had looked rather messy, and there were small scrapes littered around her knees and elbows.

She had obviously looked as if she had fell, probably got lost too.

After finding that the person who had invaded his space was indeed no threat, he approached her. Although, not having much ‘people skills,’ he came off rather harsh.

“Who are you.”

This only made the young girl distress even farther, a sigh escaping him.

How was he supposed to even approach this?? Was everyone this much of a crybaby?

Young Kinich, trying his hardest to soften the tone of his voice and seem more approachable, copying the demeanor of his mother whenever she used care for him.

“..Are you okay..??”

That definitely seemed to go better, in his opinion, as the girl didn’t immediately start sobbing more, but rather managed to choke out the words..

“I want to go home.”

..Great. That gave him so much information.

He, and all his little child wisdom, replied:

“Oh. Where?”

Kinich had just asked a simple question, but to you, it was so complicated.

You didn’t know where you were, who this strange boy was?

All you knew was that: you were hurting, you wanted to go home because you missed your parents.

Seeing that his question didn’t get him very far, he wordlessly left to go back to his house, planning on grabbing bandaids for you.

He came back, half surprised to see you in the same spot you were; not even moved an inch. This time however, you weren’t crying as much, all that were heard were now small sniffles as you rubbed your eyes.

He wrapped his hand over yours and drags you over to a tree nearby that you could sit under.

Once he has you sat down he pulls out the small bandaids from his pocket and fumbles to open them, putting them on the small cuts you had.

Little you had no idea what to think. First this boy seemed harsh, or rather intimidating? but now here he was knelt on the ground next to you patching you up.

As he did so, all you could do was look at him.

“Will you remember me?” You asked rather abruptly.

It caught him very off guard, it was a rather random question. He gave no reply.

Once he had finished he once again, wordlessly walked away, but this time farther into the forest. He stopped at a couple steps before looking back at you.

You perked up at the fact that he stopped this time. Taking advantage of the boy who provided help was still within eye shot, you chased after him.

He’d continue to walk, but whenever you’d fall a little too far behind, he’d stop, and wait. Then he’d continue on again.

Eventually this had led you back to the entrance of the village you lived in. You started to sprint towards it, thinking that you had made it back by pure luck.

Second Meeting

The second time you had met as kids, was when Kinich had to go to the market. His father was now dead, and he now had to find his way around life, as if he wasn’t beforehand.

His father’s absence of gambling had definitely made it easier to manage mora.

But just because he now had mora, he was still bargaining ever stall he could.

“Now i’m sure that we could get a fair price on this..”

Kinich suggested to the stall owner, but just then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a familiar figure..

He could t quite place from where though.. Her hair was the first thing he had noticed.

‘it’s styled nicely’ he thought.

As you turned and he was able to see your face, he then remembered where you had looked so familiar from.

You were that girl he had helped a couple years back… but why does he remember you so specifically.?

You held flowers in your hands that day, a bouquet of peonies.

You walked up to the stall he was at to briefly talk with the owner, who was more than glad to help you rather than Kinich.

He would often steal small glances in your way as you stood next to him reciting your order to the owner, who obliged.

As the owner grabbed the requested items you had caught one of his looks he thought was sly, and waved to him.

He managed a small wave back, but that was about it. He didn’t know how he was supposed to interact with you. It’s not like he knew you all well.

But something about your bright smile made his stomach feel weird. He wasn’t too sure what it was, but it was very unpleasant.

As you took your things from the owner and payed you spared him another wave.

“Goodbye.!”

From then on,

he would always see you around the area, whether you be completing commissions for the adventurers guild, grabbing supplies, or simply wandering around.

It seemed as if you were now everywhere.

Everywhere he’d look, you were there.

He tried not to dwell on it, but his eyes would always linger on you. He told himself it’s because he wanted to “keep the people safe.”

At some point he’d sub-consciously look for you, brushing it off once again as ‘keeping people safe.’ He was oblivious to the meaning of the feeling he’d get in his stomach anytime you’d smile or wave at him.

‘Is this what people meant by butterflies in your stomach?’ He pondered.

At one point or another, you both had run into one another while doing a commission.

He had been looking for a missing Saurian. Presumably the one you were currently knelt down by that was injured.

“Oh! Kinich! That’s your name.. right?” You asked nervously, you had heard of him from other villagers, it also helps that you’ve seen him around a lot.

“Yes. That’s me.” He replied with his usual monotone voice. It made it hard for you to get a read on what he wanted.

“Is there something that brings you over here..?” You questioned as you grab bandage wrap from your satchel.

You wanted to hurry and attend to the Saurian’s wounds before they got infected.

“I’m looking for a missing Saurian. I believe that is the one i’m looking for.” He nods his head at the Saurian you had currently been taking care of.

“Well, unless you’re looking for a Mrs. June’s missing Saurian, then you have the wrong one.”

“…that’s exactly who i’m looking for.”

There was a short moment of silence.

“…you’ve got to be joking.” You deadpanned.

Turns out the woman recruited more than one person for the commission..

You sigh as you pick the baby Saurian up, stand up and walk over to Kinich.

“Hold your arms out.”

He hesitates, before slowly holding his arms out.

As he does you hand him the baby Saurian.

“Get the poor thing back to Mrs. Jones, she’s probably worried sick.” You softly smiled at the baby.

“You should come with so you can collect part of the pay.” Kinich inquired, seeing as you had done part of the work, it was only fair you had also gained some reward for it.

You waved your hand as you walked opposite direction of the village.

“Take my part of the payment as an exchange for when you helped me back then, or something..”

Ah. You still do remember that. He wasn’t the only one. He remembers that event pretty well too.

You pause for a bit, not turning around to face him.

“..Do you remember that..?”

Of course he does.

He remembers your messed up hair.

He remembers your beautiful, but dirtied, and tattered dress.

He remembers how scared you looked.

“I do.”

Just as you.

You had remembered his beautiful eyes.

You had remembered his blunt, but comforting words.

You had remember how he had patched you up.

“I always remembered you.”

[chleem]

Flashing Lights #7

Series; actor Drew x actress reader

Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A-class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?

Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ chapter6 | index | chapter8

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Mid-June 2024

“I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“This is!” You yell, forcing your tears into your eyes as you stare at Hugh. “The world is ending tomorrow. I… I’m gonna be with my brother soon. I’m happy, but I want to live…for you.”

Hugh shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes as well. “No, I’m not saying goodbye to you. We’re going to go on, live our lives-“

“Stop pushing the problem away, Jack-“

“I want to! Because I can’t say goodbye to you, I love you,” Hugh confesses, and you suck in a breath, the tears flowing down. “I love you, Sam. And…it hurts that I can’t grow old with you…”

You cry even more, before dropping to the ground, your sobs filling the silence of the set. You don’t look at Hugh, knowing he’s a great actor and will respond to your improv in exactly the right way; he always does.

You feel his presence before he reaches you—gently wrapping his arms around you.

You let your face fall into his chest, as his hand gently rubs your hair, soothing you.

“Cut!”

Hugh pulls away from you, getting up. He helps you up, and you thank him while rubbing your tears away. 

“That was great,” he compliments you, a smile on his lips. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, as the staff comes and fixes your makeup. 

Director Ravens yells through his megaphone, “Great scene, take five!”

The staff follows you as you walk to your seat, and freeze.

Drew, already sitting in it. You didn't expect him to be at your set, since he was probably on his own schedule. But he’s here, and he seems to be in a good mood. 

You watch as he pulls a random chair over, tapping it. “Hey.”

You glance at the makeup staff, and she goes away. You sit down besides Drew, staring ahead. “You sat here all morning?”

“Just a while. The view’s great,” he says, and you feel his eyes on the side of your face. 

You lean back into your chair, staring at the Greece ocean view. It was beautiful, but you didn’t want to agree with him. Not after what he did this morning. “It’s fucking boring.”

“I don’t know…Hugh Jackman’s a pretty good view.”

You snort at his lame comment, turning and meeting his eyes. Wow. You don’t think you could ever get used to how annoyingly blue his eyes are. “Why are you here?”

“Goldfish memory?” He teases, a corner of his lips curling up.

“I don’t remember unimportant things,” you talk back, an annoyed frown on your face. “And can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Until today. You wrap up today.”

“Who told you?”

“Stop asking the obvious, y/n,” Drew answers, but no hint of annoyance in is voice. “And y’know why I’m here. We got a date, remember?”

Right. Your afternoon was reserved for Drew, which the company told you was going to be a date around the Greece streets. It’s your little ‘getaway’ as a couple, enjoying time away from the press. But, the company planted the information to some fan-cites/media, to make sure the world knew you were on a vacation with Drew, indicating things were serious. It sounds stupid, but that’s the main goal of a PR stunt, to gain more publicity. 

Gosh. Drew’s face pisses you off. Even more, now that you’re fully sober. 

You finished the bottles of wine in the hotel room last night, and for some reason, the hotel refuses to send more into your room. Plus, cigarettes that you left on the table are gone. 

You fully suspect that Drew took your cigarettes. As for the wine? What kind of hotel refuses to send wine upstairs to VIP guests? 

You were on edge this whole morning, even considering to cancel this shoot. But Laura persuaded you to do it, and that she was on her way to buy a pack for you. But after two hours, she’s still not here and instead, Drew’s here.

Drew’s warm hand places itself on your knee, and only then have you noticed that you’ve been bouncing your legs due to anxiousness. “You okay?”

“You took away my shit,” you confront him. It was like a switch was turned on inside of you, and the semi-sweet y/n was gone. Now, it was short-tempered y/n. All because his face now reminded you of how sober you are right now. 

“No idea what you’re saying,” he denies, the corner of his lips still up. You furrow your eyebrows, and he wipes the smirk off with another hand. “I don’t have your shit.”

You sit up, startling him to remove his hand away from you. “You do! Give it to me, I need it.”

“You don’t need it, y/n,” Drew glances around to make sure no one’s listening. “You’re doing perfectly fine right now-“

“I’m not. I’m freaking out here,” you confess, which was weird, because you don’t say that to Drew. But now, you were focused on getting even just one smoke; you wanted, no, needed your cigarettes back. “I’m much better with it, just give me-“

“No, y/n,” Drew says, his tone more serious now. “You survived a morning without a smoke, or a drop of alcohol. You’re fine.”

You stare into his blue eyes for a hint of lie, for his statement to be wrong. Because he is wrong, you weren't fine. You were a hundred times more anxious in front of a camera, and although Director Ravens had no comment towards your acting, you felt the worst. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want my stuff back.”

“I don’t have it,” he firmly says again. 

“You’re the only one that would do such a thing.”

“Well, I didn’t, okay?” He replies immediately, his eyes pleading for you to believe him. 

“Fuck,” you curse, looking away from him and towards the ocean.

Your leg must’ve been bouncing again, because Drew puts his hand on your leg again. You stop, looking down at his hand; you hate how it's so warm and somehow comforting.  

He’s looking down on the ground, as if thinking about something. Then, he turns to you, starting to rub circles on your knee . “Let me show you.”

You speak up after a short pause, “Show me what?”

“How much better being sober is. How much better you are without the chemicals.”

"Y/n, why are you treating yourself this way?"

You stare into his eyes, hoping to catch bullshit in them. 

But no. His eyes just show truth, determination, and comfort. 

Wow. You’ve never seen someone stare at you like that. 

Mostly empathy, jealous, hateful stares. But Drew…

Fuck. You almost forgot that he was a fucking actor. 

You want to confront him, but Director Ravens interrupts through his megaphone, informing you to go back to shooting. 

The staff comes, continuing to fix your makeup, and you get up, walking to the film set. You turn back and glance at Drew, who’s still staring at you. 

His stare causes your stomach to warm up, even if you were highly suspicious of him. 

——

True to his word, Drew shows you how much better it is when you experience the day sober. 

He takes you through town, and of course, you complained at first, claiming that old buildings were a bore. Okay. You didn’t just complain. You fought, like you always did. 

Drew had to pull you aside, out of public eye and fight back with you. Multiple times have you tried slipping off to get a smoke or a drink. But Drew was like a hawk, stopping you just in time. 

In the late afternoon, Drew took you to the local markets, and okay, maybe you had fun there. A lot of fun. 

Locals didn’t recognize the two of you, so you looked around freely. It was nice, to be in a place where not a lot of people knew who you were. You tasted the samples, buying small souvenirs, and even getting a funny art sketched of you and Drew. 

“You speak Greek?” You mumble, while your mouth was stuffed with Lokma, which you learned was a kind of Greece donut. It was so delicious, you bought a pack that was straight out of the oven, eating while walking down the sidewalk. 

The corner of his lips curl up, his eyes glancing down at you. “I can’t hear you,” he teases. 

You eventually swallow the one in your mouth, and you ask him yet again. 

“Basic words,” Drew shrugs, as you continue eating. “Is it that good?”

“Yes,” you murmur, stuffing another one into your mouth. His hand attempts to get the last one from the bag, but you slap it away. “This one’s mine.”

“You ate five already.”

“And?”

He shakes his head while smiling, before stopping at the crosswalk. It was late afternoon already, and you spent almost three hours at the local market alone. Drew didn’t complain; he even offered to hold the souvenirs you decided to buy. It was weird; one, you weren’t the type to buy souvenirs, and two, he offered to hold your stuff. 

Then again, you’re fully sober and awake due to the amount of things you’ve seen today, and Drew seemed to be in a good mood.

Now, you were going to see another market, but it was mostly selling stuff such as flowers, souvenirs, or jewelry. 

Without looking, you wanted to cross the road, but Drew quickly holds you back, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You look up at him with stuffed cheeks, and he just looks ahead. “Did you eat your eyes as well?”

You roll your eyes, reaching for the last Lokma to eat. Just as you’re about to pop it into your mouth, Drew beats you to it, snatching it away with a grin. This bitch- that was the last one! “Hey! Give it back!”

He laughs, chewing it quickly, “you’re right. This is good.”

“That was the last one!” you whine, frowning as you stare at him in disbelief.

“I thought that was for me,” he says, swallowing the last bite and looking down at you with a teasing smile. “It wasn’t?”

The audacity-

But the lights must’ve turned green, because Drew leads you to cross the road, his arm still around your shoulders. “You owe me,” you say, pushing the empty bag into his chest. 

He laughs yet again, his hand going to cover yours. You quickly pull away from his touch, and he just takes the bag and throws it into the trash can once you reach the other side. 

He keeps his arm around your shoulders the whole time you’re walking around the market. The vibrant view of the local market distracts you - locals offering different samples for you to try.

The only time Drew leaves your side is when you’re distracted by a street singer, and you sit down on the benches, being his only listener. He’s singing Kiss me by Sixpence None The Richer, the lyrics seems to pull you into the moment. You let the music wash over you, a soft smile on your lips as you listen.

Drew walks back and sits next to you a few minutes later, and you frown at him, for leaving your side. “Where were you?”

“A fan recognized me,” he says, placing the bags next to him. Oh. It sounded like something Drew would do. Heck, you’ve seen him doing fan services, and he was very kind to fans (unlike you).

You turn to back to the singer, listening. 

You and Drew sit together on the bench, listening to the man sing for a couple of more minutes. But it was so good, that you didn’t want to leave. So, you and Drew sat there for another hour, until he was finally done singing.

You clap when he’s done, and he bows to you. Drew claps as well, and you turn to him. “He’s great,” you compliment, truly impressed by his voice.

“I know. The best concert,” he gives you a soft smile. “You hungry?”

“Not really,” you say, feeling full from the snacks you had earlier. You look over your shoulder, at the setting sun. This was the first time you’ve found yourself finding sunsets beautiful. Then, you spot the beach, with a few people walking on it. “Hey, there’s a beach there.”

“You wanna go?”

You look at Drew, “yeah, that sounds great.”

——

The two of you walk side by side on the beach, you carrying your heels and Drew carrying his, along with other small bags of stuff. You don’t talk; simply enjoying the smell of the beach, the sound of the ocean, and the calm feeling. 

It was dinner time, so the crowd that was here had left, leaving the beach to just you and Drew. 

Drew doesn’t talk either; walking in silence with you. 

You haven’t been to an actual beach in so long. The last time you put your feet in the sand was since… you can’t even remember.

But that’s the thing; you can’t remember. You can’t remember anything from your childhood, except for the torturing moments spent in rehab centers, the suffocating presence of the press, and the over-enthusiastic fans. The worst moments of your life, the ones that left the deepest marks, you recall with shocking clarity. Yet the good ones? Do they even exist?

Your gaze shifts to Drew, who’s walking beside you. He’s quiet, content with the walk, his eyes focused ahead, but there’s something about the way he’s there that makes your heart tighten. You think back to the first time you met him, and a pang of confusion hits you.

How did he even get into your trailer? How did the two of you even start talking? Was it the shoot that brought you together, or something else?

The MV. You remember flashes—distant moments where you two were thrown together, the cameras capturing your every move. But the interaction itself... it's all blurry. It’s like a haze, one that’s too fogged up to see clearly.

What even happened?

That realization hits you; like a stab to your chest.

You stop walking, and you feel tears slowly forming in your eyes. 

At the same time, rain starts falling. 

And a few seconds later, it’s pouring rain. But you don’t care. You’re too into this moment; the realization that you’ve been awake for so long. 

Drew stops after a few steps, and he turns around to face you. When his eyes meet yours, the same sincerity you saw this morning, you couldn’t hold it in. The tears slowly fall, one by one.

“It’s raining-“ 

“I…I haven’t been sober for this long,” you start, your voice shaky as you say those words. You smile at Drew; the tears being covered by the pouring rain. “And…and I want to remember this moment.”

Drew walks over to you, and he drops his stuff on the sand. He stops in front of you, cupping your face as he tries to wipe the tears off your face with his thumb.

He smiles at you too; and for the first time, you don’t find his smile annoying. Instead, warmth erupts inside of you. You cry even harder. “Told you it felt nice, right?”

You chuckle, “But I’m serious. This…I went a whole day without drinking or smoking.”

He doesn’t say anything; continuing to wipe your tears away and looking deeply into your eyes. The rain gets in them; but he doesn’t care. 

“And, and I want to remember this moment. This moment that I spent with you.”

Drew stays quiet for a few seconds, before saying, “Even if you forget; I’ll remember it for you.”

Then he adds, “I’ll be reminding you, over and over, over and over again."

You laugh at his response, finding it funny, and…sweet. Which is crazy, considering it’s Drew that’s saying it. “You’re annoying,” you lie, trying to push him away.

He chuckles too, his hand still cupping your face. “But it’s true. And I’m proud of you. You did it.”

“I did do it,” you murmur, looking at his blue eyes. “Thank you,” you add. You meant it. You meant every word you said earlier. You hope he knows it too. 

And because this moment felt right, you hug him. You didn’t care how gross it felt to be hugging when your clothes are soaked. You just wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. 

He returns the hug after a reluctant pause, his arms wrapping tightly around you.

You bury yourself into him, breathing into his scent, and feeling the rain soaking into the both of you. 

You also want to remember the feeling of hugging Drew. Not just in this moment, under the pouring rain, on the warm beach, and under the sunset. No, you just want to remember Drew. Drew, and how it feels to be hugging him. 

Yeah, Drew’s warm hugs. That’s what you want to remember the most. That’s what you want to carry with you, like a secret tattoo burned deep into your memory, one that nothing can erase or alter, no matter how many times you forget everything else.

Because, in this moment, Drew’s hug is everything. And maybe that’s enough.

-------------------------------

word count: 2.8k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: GUYS i got emotional writing this shit...goddamn it. hope you enjoyed this chapter, and ignore any mistakes i made (eng isn't my first language, probs should've mentioned it before). so...seems like theyre starting to like each other???

[meetmyothersouls]

ok ok so lee seeing the reader around town one day & starts following her. He ends up saving her from another eater? Thank you, I need more lee content!

Been thinking about this all day and I've finally got enough to write it! I hope you enjoy!

First Time for Everything

A Bones & All inspired fanfic

Warnings: stealing money, being attacked, cannibalism (relax it's a bones and all inspired fic), blood, gore, not proofread

July 1989

You’d never stolen anything before. Not even when your friends would go into a Walmart and shoved nail polish and thongs into their purses. They always called you a goody-two-shoes or a scaredy-cat. You wonder what they’d think now as you carry a K-mart bag full of cash from the register you were working at not even 30 minutes ago.

Of course, being newly homeless generated a whole new incentive to steal the money. And even though it was so out of the norm for you, it was so easy. You waited until your line was clear, pulled open a bag, popped the till and calmly grabbed every stack of bills in the register, pocketing what wouldn’t fit. Then, you flipped off your register light and walked out. It wasn’t until you made it to the parking lot that you began to run. And now, the adrenaline high you are coming down from is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. They’ll never suspect you. Not with you being the golden employee that you are. Were. You can’t go back there now.

It’s getting dark, that along with the pointy tips of crumpled up money poking your thigh from the inside of your pockets snaps you out of your thoughts. This morning, you were worried about where you’d stay. It wasn’t the first time you got kicked out of a hotel room, and it probably won’t be the last, but at least now you can afford a new room for the night. If you can find one.

It's hot, one of the hottest nights so far this July. You pull off the thick K-mart polo and throw it into woods, leaving you in your black cami and a pair of khakis. A chorus of cicadas singing from the trees in that line the street almost drowns out the sound of a flirty whistle from behind you. You walk a little faster, not daring to turn your head.

"Hey, little lady," a man's gravelly voice calls out. "Why don't you keep the show going and take the rest off." The man laughs, but it's cut short by a painful sounding cough.

You pick up speed, your Converse slapping the pavement as you quickly turn into an alley, hoping to lose him by your abrupt change in direction, but a thick hand grabs your wrist.

"Let me go!" You yell, attempting to yank your wrist from his sweaty grip.

The man seems to enjoy the struggle, he tightens his fingers around your wrist as he pushes you into a warm brick wall. A tall streetlamp shines an eerie orange light into the alley, barely illuminating the man's features. He's got dark hair, stringy with sweat and grease. One of his eyes is missing and the other is open wide. He looks hungry. Ravenous. And the laugh that rumbles in his throat is truly sinister.

"Keep goin', darlin'. I love a good fight."

Then his tongue is on your neck, tasting your skin. You sob and gag as you inhale the scent of his breath. Sour with alcohol and something metallic.

"Come on, honey. Don't fight me, I just wanna taste-"

"Hey!" A new man's voice yells. "Hey, get off her!"

The man's grip on your wrist loosens enough for you to pull away from him. You take your chance and make a run for it. You dropped your bag of money when Man Number One shoved you against the wall, but you can't risk turning back around. You just have to make it ou-

You're stopped short by a hand in your hair, pulling your head back, bending you almost in half. You scream as Man Number One drags you. He's pulling you by your hair, your heels dig into the ground in front of you, desperately attempting to gain some traction. Your only view is upside down and distorted through the tears building up in your eyes. But, in the dim orange light you see the other man. He's peeling himself off of the ground and his nose is dripping blood onto a forest green crop top. His jeans are shredded, exposing a large amount of his legs, you're not sure if it's because he just fell or if the jeans are just naturally like that or why you're even wondering about the nature of his jeans. He's got a brick in his hand that he's attempting to hide, but even upside down you can see it. You see him look down at you and for some reason he winks. Then you realize, Man Number One can't see him.

Crop Top walks creeps up onto Man Number Two, like a lion stalking his prey. Then, without warning, he slams the brick into the side of his skull with a wet crunch. Instantly, you're dropped to the ground and as much as the landing hurt, the relief feels twice as good. Your scalp throbs and you're sure you're missing a chunk of hair. A set of light footsteps run toward you, and immediate dread sets in again, but it's Crop Top. He grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder. You're not sure if you should be scared or relieved as he places you behind a dark green dumpster.

Crop Top kneels down, looking over his shoulder once to make sure Man Number One is still down.

"Is he-"

"Not yet. Stay here. Don't move until I come get you," Crop Top says. He drops a plastic bag next to you. The money. You're immediately shocked he didn't take it for himself. That's what most people would do. His knees pop a little as he stands back up. He starts to walk off but stops. "And don't watch."

Don't watch? Isn't that like an automatic invitation to watch? You think to yourself. You lean your head back on the brick and close your eyes. You could run right now. You could take your money and get a room for the night and leave this odd encounter right here in this alley, but you don't. Instead, you poke your head out, peeking from the side of the dumpster.

Immediately you wish you hadn't. Crop Top somehow dragged Man Number One and sat him up against the brick wall, maybe 15 feet from where you're sitting. How he did it, you're not sure. Crop Top probably weights 120 pounds soaking wet, but he's managed to maneuver him just right so that he can...

You pop your head back behind the dumpster, unsure of what you just saw. There's no way...

You poke your head out, peeking again. There's a squelching sound, followed by a spatter of blood coming from Man Number One's neck as Crop Top bites into it.

Okay, yeah. He's definitely eating him. This should definitely be a sign to run, right? But you aren't moving. Everything in you is screaming to run. Run the fuck away because this dude is going to eat you next. But you don't. You sit there alternating from watching and hiding. It's like one of those car accidents you can't help but watch, hoping you'll see a dead body, or some fucked up shit like that. You shouldn't want to look, but you do.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you hear footsteps approaching. You sit up straighter against the brick. His stops in front of you. His white high tops covered in blood and gore. Why would he pick white shoes to wear if he's going around munching on dudes.

"You looked, didn't you?" Crop Top asks.

"I uh..." you risk a look at his face. It's covered in blood. His upper lip, his mouth and his chin are coated in it. You swallow hard. "What are you?"

Crop Top crouches down again, eye level with you. "A person like you," he smiles. "Name's Lee." He holds out a bloody hand. You look down at it then back at him. "Oh," Lee says, wiping his hand off on his shirt, then offers it again. Still just as bloody as before.

"Are you gonna eat me too?" The question falls out of your mouth, you can't stop it. Word vomit.

Lee scrunches up his face, pursing his lips as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating your question. "Mmmm, probably not. Unless you've done something really shitty..." Lee eyes your bag of money with an arched eyebrow and you shift a little.

"My name's Y/N."

"You work at K-mart, Y/N?"

"No," you answer too quickly.

"I've seen you there. A lot."

"I don't work there anymore," you say. "You've been watching me?"

"Every day for like two weeks or some shit," Lee says, like it's no big deal. Though up against eating a whole human, it's probably not. "That your first-time stealing from money from your job?"

You open your mouth, the urge to defend yourself creeping up your throat, but you cut it short. You just watched this man eat someone.

"It's my first time," you admit.

"No shit? Well, Y/N, there's a first time for everything." At this point you notice the grey grocery bag he's carrying. It's full and tied up, dripping slightly with thick red liquid. "Bones and shit," Lee says, and tosses the bag into the dumpster. It lands with a heavy, wet thud. "You got anywhere to be tonight, y/n?"

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"I'm homeless," you admit.

"Perfect, let's go."

This time Lee grabs your hand and pulls you up. You grab your bag of money and walk with him looking behind you every so often to make sure no one is following.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"For a ride," Lee says smiling as he jangles a pair of car keys in front of your face. "Nabbed these off of fuck face back there before he tried to eat you."

"He tried to-"

"Oh, he was going to eat you real good. You're lucky I've been following you."

"How-"

"Shh save your questions, I'll answer all of them when we find his car."

"We're gonna steal his car too?" You ask. The amount of crime you've been involved in today is beginning to overwhelm you.

"You've never stolen a car?"

You shake your head.

Lee smiles. "I think we're gonna have a lot of first times, Y/N."

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @rosewatergroupie

[trancylovecraft]

(AOEX) YANDERE LUCIFER x READER: Radiance (DRABBLE)

i had a burst of inspiration at two in the morning, on christmas eve, in the middle of the night, pretty sure i heard santa on my roof. anyways, happy holidays you filthy animals!

"[F/N]!!!"

His shrieks rang throughout the broken rubble of the facility. What use to be white clinical walls and pristine tile flooring were now broken down into stone-dust and shards. Nothing left as that monster rampaged throughout the remains.

She ran, [F/N] ran like her life depended on it and it most certainly did. Her lungs burned as she traversed the rubble, Tears flooding out the corner of her burning eyes as her scorched lungs tried to keep up the pace.

The light behind her, The radiance showing in her peripherals couldn't distract her now. Even though it blinded her and started to sizzle at her skin, Her mind was a single track on the route to escape.

He couldn't get to her now, Not when she had made so many deals, So many months of planning and plotting to get her to where she was now. That one mistake, The one that made the house of cards tumble down:

He had found out of her escape.

Pandemonium broke loose. Both men and women screaming as his yells rang throughout the destroyed facility, They sounded strained, As if he was in more pain than he usually was. But most of all,

He was pissed.

His light was angry, It burned her and scorched her and she should've known. She had flown too close and had been reprimanded as such, Though it didn't matter as she felt the light getting closer. She'd just need to fly faster.

"[F/N]..!! Where are you.. My wife.. WHERE ARE YOU?!"

He screamed once more, Much closer. He was gaining on her quickly which only made the tears in her eyes fall much faster, Her choked gasps for air come out ever so more often. Her legs near given out, But she needed to go- To keep going, To get out of here-

"[F/N]!!!"

She felt something crash into her.

[F/N] let out a scream of her own, Falling down and hitting the broken tiles of the floor hard. She yelped, Crimson ichor already spurting out from a newly shard-cut gash in her head.

Her vision was blurry, A faint droning hum in the back of her ears as she felt her mind fade in and out of consciousness. However the only thing keeping her awake was the compressing weight on her back, One that kept her down on the ground.

[F/N] cried as she felt the charred claws of her captor wrap around her waist. She sobbed as his rotting nose was pressed into the crook of her neck, The way he let out a strangled purr as he did made her want to puke.

"Why.. Why did you try to get away from me..? I.. You ran away.. You.." His voice was like a raid siren in the middle of the night, The panic flooding through thousands was felt in the thundering of her one single heart as he spoke.

Lucifer's tail, The matted blonde fur wrapped around her thigh like a prisoners chain as he held her down to the floor. She sobbed as his rotten body encased hers, Face still pressed into her neck as she felt the nips of his fangs start to graze her skin.

"P-Please.. No!" [F/N] cried as she felt the bone start to dig into her skin, Head still pressed up against the rubble of the ground and his broken body still holding her down. He wasn't in his right mind.

And as her head turned and was met with the face of the beast, [F/N] wished she had never been born.

He was rotting from the inside out, Half of his face was decayed like he had already expired. If only, [F/N] thought. His platinum blonde hair was matted with the blood of others, He now had only one green eye wildly staring down at her, The other one fallen out ages ago.

[F/N] felt bile rise at the back of her throat as she saw the insides of his face, Half-rotten half-primal rage. She could see the bare surface of his skull, She could see his flesh hanging like drapes from his skeleton and how it almost ripped off his frame.

His power, He had exerted himself.

All to get to her.

"W-Why could you do this to me..? Why did you.. You're my wife, We married-! You-.. " Lucifer was cut off by a series of coughs, Mid-way through the markings he started to leave on her neck.

His teal military-uniform was ragged and bloody, His lengthy cardinal cape was the same, Only concealing the ichor better. This man was emotionally a machine, No feelings or deviation. Just an unfeeling machine churning out his duties.

Back then, [F/N] almost convinced herself that he was human. A cold comfort if not for his tail and cat-slit pupils. Not for the light he always radiated, Not like the glow he always emanated.

His glow wasn’t like the radiance of the sun, it wasn't like a lover's embrace on a cold winter's eve. No, Instead it was like the catalyst of a nuclear fallout.

He was the light in the sky moments before disaster, He was the death of thousands of men and women across era. He was The Morningstar, The one warned of in tales of old passed down through tradition and brushed off by the young.

But he was no joke, Not anymore as he held her near crying. Claws around her waist starting to dig into her skin and his coughing breaking down into wheezes, Teeth still lodged deep into her neck.

"You.. You must have gotten lost.. You must.. You got lost, Didn't you, My love? You.. You did!" Lucifer wheezed. This was no machine, Not anymore. He had sentience alright, But even so his delusions were not easily shaken.

[F/N] sniffled, Red eyes looking back at his horrific visage.

"P-Please- You gotta let me go, I can't stay here anymore- Please-! GRAH-!" [F/N] screamed as she felt his teeth gnaw into her neck and bite down, Blood gushed up from the wound and splattered on his rotten flesh.

And she wanted to scream, when she felt his tongue start to lick at her wound.

"Shhh.. You do not need to explain it to me-! You got lost-! You worried me.. You worried me.." He doted as his teeth parted from her wound and his tongue starting to lap at the blood, Almost caringly, Like a cat grooming it's young.

[F/N] sobbed. She knew very well that there was no getting through to him, Not in this state nor in his full power.

Her neck ached, Unable to support her head at it was fallen to the ground. Lucifer continued to tongue at her nape, She could almost feel him physically calm as he tasted the sweetness of her ichor.

"You worry me.. You.. I love you.. I love you, I love you.. I love you.." He said in-between each stroke of his tongue, Which just made her sob even harder. She wheezed, Body weak as she tried to crawl out from under his hold.

The stench was horrid, The iron copper of her blood mixing in with the ugly death of his rotting vessel. She knew he was in pain with every ache of his ligaments, With every tail-squeeze of her thigh she could feel his anguish.

But that didn't seem to matter to him anymore. Clawed hands still digging into her midsection as he claimed his prize, His wife, The one person in the damned dimension that took away his misery.

She loved him, She did. From the moment they met on that fateful night, When their eyes locked as he declared war on the true cross order. He knew that they were meant to be, The yearning obsession pounding through his heart being the tell-tale sign.

She felt the same way, She must have! Lucifer didn't know what he'd do if she didn't, What he'd do if he even had a suspicion.

The bodies around them, The splatters of organs and muscle was enough to tell [F/N] what would happen. The burning light coming from each and every single corpse, Their sizzled flesh smelling almost disgustingly like a meat on a grill, Just like the barbecue's she had when she was free.

But now he held her in a chokehold, What he thought was a lovers embrace. But this demon could never learn to love, Not in the way that could've ever been human anyways. [F/N] just sobbed in his arms, Unable to do anything else.

What could she do? This was The King of Light.

She could never escape, She didn't need a gilded cage to understand that part.

[tupperwaretub]

I Love You More Than Life Itself

Pairing: Joel Miller x Male! Reader

Warnings: non detailed description of violence and wounds, established relationship.

Summary: Fluffy short about him tending to your wounds after a run in with raiders (Inspired by the scene in the recent 'a strange way of life' trailer).

Drops of sweat made their way down you're skin, you were laying in bed just gaining consciousness after a horrific run in with a group of raiders. You were on a quick supply run, you were with Joel but decided to go off in a separate direction to try and cover more ground.

Joel was against the idea, you should've listened. They ambush you, told you to give them everything you had on you but you refused causing them to attack you, you screamed for Joel before you lost consciousness.

You can remember gaining and losing consciousness as Joel took out each raider ruthlessly and rushed you back to Jackson.

When you woke up in bed you felt the cold sensation of a wet cloth and the stinging pain of it against a wound on your side. Your vision was blurry but you recognised Joel instantly. "Joel.." you manage to say weakly. His eyes dart up to your face and he lights up "hey darlin'.." He dabs the cold cloth onto your forehead and you lean into his touch. "How're you feelin'?" You manage to crack a weak smile "like someone threw me down a flight of stairs."

Joels lips curve into a smile and he kisses your hand. Theres a long pause between the both of you "you saved me." You say almost feeling guilty. "You needed saving." He replies to you simply. "You could have died Joel!" Your voice is strained and you feel exasperated.

Joel pauses for a while still running the cloth over your bare chest. "I'd risk my life for you, i love you more than life itself."

You feel tears well up in your eyes and you start to sob, Joel quickly pulls you into a warm embrace.

"I love you to Miller" you croak out.

-------------------------

A/n: Just a short one for now while i work on a bigger fic :)

[lavender-romancer]

Crosses on my body

Part Four Tommy Shelby x Reader AN: new character inspired by Father Hughes but not him

You were a nun in Dublin but when you decided to take action against those in powerful positions in the church you had to escape. When you turn up in Birmingham and begin a relationship with Tommy Shelby will he be able to protect you from your past?

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous chapter

"They found me, they've fucking found me," you said quietly to Tommy as he sat at the bar talking to you.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow and you handed him the unopened letter. "You haven't opened it?"

"I can't do it." You fidgeted with your fingers.

"You do that a lot…when you're anxious." Tommy observed and you rolled your eyes before twitching your leg as he opened it. "Shit," Tommy said under his breath and your eyes shot up.

"What? What the fuck is it?" You hissed, your eyes wide as Tommy pulled out a letter and a card, the ace of spades. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"In the war when we had gained ground and there wasn't as much of a threat overground we would put this card on the bodies of dead Germans. As a way to…" he looked like he was struggling to form his words.

"Why? For what reason?" You said quietly, leaning over the bar before realising it was still sticky and recoiling.

"It was to make fun of their deaths. The ace of spades is the death card." He looked from the card to you before placing it down and opening the letter.

"So they're making fun of my theoretical death?"

"I don't know if it's so theoretical to them," he turned the letter around and all it said was "The wrath of God is coming".

"Those fucking bastards." Your eyes began to water and you ran into the back room, sinking down to the floor against a wall and sobbing.

Thank god the pub was loud enough to not hear it. The sobbing felt like your whole body was slowly dying, your chest couldn't breath, your head couldn't think, limbs unable to do anything aside from hugging yourself in some notion of comforting yourself but it wouldn't work.

"Y/n," you turned your head with terror and saw Tommy. "It's just me,"

"I-I can't w-where do I go!" You stuttered and he knelt down in front of you.

"You'll be with me. What can the church do against the Shelby's?" He smiled at you and placed his hands on your shoulders.

"I mean… I have n-no fucking clue about your family a-aside from fucking w-whispers," you tried to smile but you couldn't see through the tears.

"You're going home, come on." He went to pull you up but you began crying harder, shaking your head insistently.

"They know where I live!" You exclaimed in fear.

"Don't worry. We'll go there, you pack some things and then you can stay with me." Tommy helped you up to your feet and your legs began to shake.

"But you're not involved," you hung your head but he put a hand under your chin gently and lifted up your head.

"Well I am now. And I intend it to stay like that." He leaned forward and kissed your cheek before pulling you closer to his body.

You wrapped your arms around him and felt his comforting weight around you, feeling so overwhelmed the pressure from his arms seemed to somewhat calm you down. Your breath was hitching every so often but the longer he held you the longer you could hold deep breaths.

"Permit me to help you," Tommy whispered and you pulled away slightly to look up at him and nod.

"Tommy we need to talk," Polly walked into his office and shut the door.

"What's this referring to?" He asked, leaning forward on his chair.

"People are talking," she paused. "About the nun."

"Ex-nun." Tommy interjected and Polly groaned.

"For once just shut the fuck up, Thomas!" She exclaimed. "They're talking about what she's done and I've heard even more whispers in church. I'm not bothered but some people are sounding more malicious than others. Is she protected?"

"She's staying at the house, so yes." Tommy scratched his head and Polly rolled her eyes.

"So that's your real concern then, getting her into bed?" She asked.

"No, I feel…I don't know what it is but we haven't even had sex but I want to be around her all the time," Tommy sighed. "I know it could all go fucking wrong but what she knows, what she's done was for reasons you'd stand by."

"I hope she's worth it, Thomas. We're too vulnerable to lose someone else in all this Russian business." Polly sat down in front of his desk in the armchair.

"I know what I'm doing, Pol." Tommy tried to reassure her. In reality he wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing.

After Grace died Tommy wanted to swear off all marriages and all close relationships with anyone but you, he just couldn't leave your understanding as just being colleagues. He couldn't see you and not want to talk to you, tell you his darkest thoughts and exist with you for as long as the world would allow.

"Do you think it's safe to be here?" You asked Tommy as you sat on the pews and he nodded.

"I have people outside and I'm here. Considering I'd be collateral if you stay with me you're more likely to be safe. I doubt the Catholic church would want to piss us off." Tommy smirked and you nodded, still anxious.

"It's just the power they have globally. That's what scares me the most, they know what I have, what I know. People who left before didn't even take anything incriminating with them and they were chased down." You rested your elbows on your knees and hunched over, head bowed in defeat.

"They won't hurt you," Tommy reassured you.

"You and God can only protect me for so long and the Lord won't even show himself to me. I desperately need to go to confession but I can't, it would incriminate me." You groaned and closed your eyes, only opening them when Tommy started rubbing his hand on your back.

"I won't let them hurt you, regardless of what God decides. I can't fear something I don't believe in." He whispered.

"I'm surprised you'd belittle him whilst in here," you paused "Do you still believe yourself to be the Devil?"

"An incarnation of the devil perhaps," he raised an eyebrow and you smirked.

"I would be punished for my relationship with you if you were. I don't believe there is only evil in you, there can't be." You sat back up and looked at Tommy.

"What I believe, is nothing. But I like listening to you talk about it," he stared into your eyes and down to your lips that seemed to part as soon as his gaze wandered to them.

"How do you travel through life with no belief?" You asked.

"I believe religion is a foolish answer to increasingly foolish questions." His hand moved up to your hair.

"But what if you die? What will happen to you?" You furrowed your brow.

"I choose to live." He whispered before pulling you into a passionate kiss that carried all the tension that had built up over the past month.

His other hand gripped your waist and you moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving closer to him before you were on top of him. Tommy's hands rested on your backside and yours running along his shoulders before going to unbutton his shirt.

"Not here," Tommy whispered and you laughed.

"So now is when you find religion?" You asked.

"No, I know that you'll hate me eventually for doing this here." He pulled you towards him and touched your breast which made you close your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek.

"You're a fucking tease," you whispered close to his ear and he shook his head.

"You're the fucking tease. I miss being in a fucking room with you. The hold you have on me should be outlawed." You straightened your back and he pushed a hair away from your face.

"Are you regretting praying with the fucking nun?" You asked with a raised eyebrow and Tommy shook his head once again.

"I don't experience much peace or rest in this life, but I think I will in the next if I'm with you " his hand went behind your neck and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in the safest embrace you'd ever felt. Not to last long.

"So this is what you've been up to since you left us?" A voice called and your eyes shot up, you knew that voice.

"Father Fagan," your voice was so quiet as you stood up and Tommy followed, standing in front of you.

"Multiple cardinal sins and now lust to add to that list, not how we raised you was it?" He walked to the last line of pews a few meters in front of you both.

"Edward Fagan. Is it?" Tommy asked, putting a cigarette in his mouth, you looked up at him, perplexed.

"What of it g*psy scum?" He growled.

"How's your molestation case coming along these days?" Tommy lit his cigarette and Fagan sat down on the pews.

"The case was dropped, you cunt." His voice was filled with such malice.

"I've spoken to some of the mothers of those children. Appears it didn't impact your reputation but then, that could change with a crown court case against you." Tommy looked at him with dead eyes you hadn't seen before but it made you feel safer to be on the right side of them.

"You speak as if you have any power. A little drug and alcohol business won't survive you through the decade. We have politicians the police and-"

"And your faithful followers, yes. But what do you have here?" Tommy asked, there was a long pause in the conversation.

"Difficult little creatures aren't they?" He paused, smiling creepily. "Children are such a blessing for the church. You've got a boy yourself haven't you?"

"Leave him out of this ple-" you started.

"Shut it you mongrel fucking whore." Fagan spat out.

"The mongrel and the whore, eh?" Tommy said to you with a raised eyebrow and you hit his arm.

"Now I don't know why you would defend this slut Mr Shelby but, I can promise you we can make your life very difficult by ignoring the advice I'm going to give you," Fagan stood up and pulled out a cigarette for himself whilst Tommy stood strong.

"And what's that, heavenly father?" Tommy mocked.

"If you choose to save this corrupted soul before you, we can make you life very fucking difficult." He was still approaching the two of you slowly.

"The Lord will protect me, and Thomas can protect himself," you scowled at Fagan and he began laughing.

"You fucking- I'm wasting my breath. Give me what I want or we will blow up every single one of your establishments one by one or maybe all together." Fagan breathed smoke in your direction.

"And what are your demands?" Tommy asked.

"The whore and the papers." He looked you up and down. "There are some uses she could still have in the convent, even just as an example of what allowing the devil into your life can do "

"Right. So who and what army will be attacking me?" Tommy questioned.

"You don't need to fucking know," he growled as Tommy breathed out smoke before continuing.

"I heard it's the economic league or is it Section D?" Tommy pondered, this seemed to catch Fagan off guard a little.

"And you think that information makes you special do ya?" Fagan tutted. "Trust a fucking tinker to get bad intel."

"When do you demand, your demands that won't be met, be met by?" Tommy asked.

"Friday," he spread his legs out into a stronger base.

"Fuck off now," Tommy said and Fagan laughed in a hollow way.

"You should fuck off and leave me with that creature," Fagan licked his bottom lip and looked at your chest, it make you want to crawl outside of your body.

"Well unless you want a bullet in your fucking skull and a few others scattered around your body. Fuck. Off." Tommy announced.

"We'll be in touch, Mr Shelby. Don't you worry about that." Fagan looked him in the eyes before turning and leaving slowly.

next part Peaky blinders taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315 Series taglist: @juicyj28 @alessioayla @fmo166

[okkalo]

could u do a scenario with kunigami and a reader who has a perfectionist mindset and ends up breaking down bc they dont feel pretty or smart enough? i’ve honestly been feeling like shit for not feeling perfect and i just want my comfort character to help me escape </3

if u need more inspiration listen to pretty hurts by beyonce

hi anon! i tried to write this one as fast as i could after the previous request for u..i hope ur feeling somewhat better!! just in case no one has told u recently im soso proud of you and you can get through this! i hope u enjoy,, lots of love 🫶🩷

character: kunigami

- kunigami had gotten used to your perfectionist attitude

- in fact, he barely struggled getting used to it

- he was always there to try to comfort you or take your mind off of whatever was bothering you

- he definitely struggled with reassurance at first, however. he actually still isn’t good at it

- he’s only good when you start degrading yourself and his mind just kinda takes over

- if you ever tried to brush him off with an “i’m okay” he would definitely back off

- he would instead try to do other things for you, such as getting your favorite food or making sure to pull you in to rest on his chest

- if u did brush him off he’ll probably learn not to comfort you that way and won’t really approach you, he just continues doing stuff that would hopefully make your day better

- all of that aside he actually loves your perfectionist side

- he loves the way you continue to strive to be better

- mostly because he can relate, he has to work hard to be everyone’s hero!!

- he tries to help if he can too

- he feels as if it’s his role as your boyfriend

- he also thinks your beautiful

- duh, you might be thinking. but he always tries to remind you with some sort of compliment

- he’s just as bad as giving compliments as he is at receiving though! so be patient

- but back to the moment you breakdown

- he’s probably not the best at detecting how stressed you are

- he didn’t even notice. he only knew when he saw you crying in bed while looking at your phone

“y/n?” your name rolled out of his mouth with worry, catching the attention of your widened teary eyes. “y/n, what’s wrong?” the question immediately left him once his concerned eyes met yours. he dropped his bag on the ground, his long legs extending to reach you fast and pull you into a comforting hug.

his heart broke at your released sobs and the way your body slumped into his, your hands clawing at the fabric of his shirt in desperate need of comfort. his finger pads gently made their way to your scalp, each spread out to gently massage your skin. he felt stupid, unable to come up with any comforting words at the moment and only being able to hold you close. he wanted to do more, he wanted you to feel better.

once your sobs lessened and you finally gained confidence in your voice you started sputtering what was weighing your heart down. the moment kunigami heard the words ‘i’m not pretty enough’ or ‘i’m not smart enough’ is the moment he decided to interrupt, not being able to hear anymore of your painfully wrong thoughts.

“hey, don’t say that.” he pulled away from the hug to lift your chin and make you look at his stern eyes. the hand still softly resting on your waist told you he wasn’t mad at you. “you know none of that is true, you’re just in a bad mental state right now to see. you’re the most beautiful person i’ve seen, and you aren’t anywhere close to dumb. you’re damn near perfect.” he stated, confident in each word he was saying while making sure to hold eye contact throughout the whole time.

“come on, take a bath with me and once we get back you’ll have to tell me who made you feel that way.” he gently took your hands, pulling you off the bed with him. once you were standing on your feet he cupped your face in his hands, giving you a soft kiss on the lips before pulling away with a reassuring gaze. “i’m so proud to be your boyfriend, i can’t have you feeling like you’re not enough, because you’re way more than enough for me.” he stated, giving one last final kiss to your cheek before his hand found your back and started pushing you to the bathroom.

unedited thanks for reading!

[002yb]

Current thoughts: Dick and Jay and the intricacies of their aggressions. Because they're not hostile (not anymore) but there's still a bite to each smile and nails in each hold, and it's not because they don't feel safe but they're just so overwhelmed and overstimulated in each other that they just have to have some sort of grounding. 

It comes with Dick saying "ill take care of you" and it stays when the older man presses in, spreading himself everywhere until hes all that Jason can see and feel. Dick presses into Jason's space, soft touches - almost healing - reverently smoothing his hands over his bruises and holding him tight - tight - tight and Jason thinks he might just turn into electricity with all the tingling under his skin so he bites. Not hard but enough to startle Dick for a while and he just watches Jason who has a flushed face - spreading ear to neck and further - sink teeth into his forearm in an almost adorable display of vulnerability with a wicked grin. 

Or when Jason tries to take care of Dick in his “your the world” way, because seeing Dick in that loving light is just so easy for Jason- as easy as breathing - it takes Dicks own breath away. The way he follows without a thought, pushes gently at his cheek, his foot, his hands - not quite a hold but enough to say i'm here- never far -always for you. It makes something warm envelop him until because Jason is so soft- and he might melt out of his skin and cling onto whatever Jason gives him so he has to gain SOME sort of control and he just sort of manhandles Jason. He’s not harmful but it's enough to have Jason grasping at air and anything he can get his hands on to try and settle himself and Dick just sorta treats him like he's pocket sized. 

And maybe Dick grows fond of pushing Jason until his boy has to bite down and leave his little marks on his skin - and maybe Jason chases the thrill of the safety he never knew in being overpowered by his Robin- but they don't have to tell.

askjherofntfewo this one got so long im so sorry :,,,)

This is the epitome of indulgence; I've been so thoroughly spoiled. Anon~ you write so beautifully ahhhhhhh this is an actual gift, a masterpiece; I want to read it forever (along with your other ask(s), honestly LOL). Ffffffff I've never felt so understood in my dickjay preferences, but Anon you get me. ( ॢ ´ U `͈ॢ)･*♡ Thank you so much for sharing these lovely thoughts ahhhhhhhh I can't wait for everyone else to read them and bask in the glory; amazing!!

Ybb's two cents under the cut (jk everything got moved beneath a cut?) because all I've got is scattered imaginings inspired by the above I'm a;oifja;woiejfaiowejf !! Fair warning that it's not nearly as eloquent as the above lol. Idk if I kept with the beautiful theme of the intricacies of aggressions, but there is...

°₊·ˈ∗♡ s a u c y s o f t n e s s ♡∗ˈ‧₊°

Overwhelmed!Jason is my everything (next to maiden!Jason). Just the way his breath would catch in his lungs, an audible stutter that he would bite back behind clenched teeth and try to swallow down only for it to claw its way back out of him - almost a sob for how broken it sounds. And Dick - it does more than take his breath away to hear something so vulnerable and wanton; it makes his heart race and stutter and skip. It makes him feel too warm, too endeared, too much. He would smile though, all teeth and bite. Sometimes playfully ornery about it or impishly teasing and always, always bewitched. There's nothing more alluring than the rise and fall of Jason's chest, that sign of life.

Only that's a lie, because just as captivating is the way Jason falls apart just by being touched (by him - by Dick alone), the way Jason taunts and challenges and torments Dick until Dick pushes back and then Jason smiles. Wicked and devastating and wonderful.

For as blunt as Jason's nails are, Dick's skin is all raised welts from the drag of them; moon-shaped crescents from where Jason's nails dig in. And to match, Jason's body is a constellation of bruises - the black and blue of fingertips, the wine-color of open-mouthed kisses.

They would both shudder at the residual ache of it all, those phantom sensations. Jason with mapping out where Dick's hands fell on him, held him, loved and adored and revered him. And Dick, marveling raised lines that fade too soon. Scratching over them with a sort of fond affection before covering them, hiding them away (or purposefully showing them off, oh my).

The manhandling, the biting; the thrill of overpowering and being overpowered. It's flirtatious, sure. More than that - it's trusting. It's fun. It's connecting in a way that lets them understand each other better than they've ever understood one another before. Raw and honest; terrifying, only not. It's addicting.

Offhand thoughts: the graze of Dick's teeth over Jason's nape as Jason bites down on Dick's hand. Jason (big, small; it doesn't matter) so overwhelmed by too many points of contact that he digs his teeth in, breath catching in that way that makes Dick's heart race, his blood sing.

That's all I got for now, anon~ I'll get to your other ask when I have some more time (I love it!!). Thank you again for spoiling me with such indulgent thoughts; they're ~ s t u n n i n g ~ ( ∩ˇωˇ∩)♡

[winter-dayz]

Falling in Love with You

Pairing: Choi Lia x Reader (ft. Rosé Park) Inspired by The Holiday (2006) Genre: Angst; Fluff Words: 4497 Warnings: strong language; suggestive content

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

“You can’t just break up with me!” He shouted at her as she stormed to the bedroom, following closely on her tail.

Lia wrenched her closet open, immediately tossing his clothes at him. “I can, and I did!” As he didn’t react to the soft shirts being thrown, she swapped tactics and grabbed his shoes, beginning to hurl his loafers at him. “You cheated on me. That means I break up with you!”

“I didn’t ‘cheat’ on you,” Ellis scoffed, several items fluttering to the ground as he made one-handed air quotes around “cheat”.

Lia paused, becoming deadly still, her face carefully blank. “Swear on my life. No, swear on our careers that you didn’t sleep with her, and I’ll believe you.”

“I’m not doin’ that. That’s so stupi–” He broke off as a sneaker whizzed past his face, “Hey!”

“You’re such a lying, cheating, scumbag!”

“At least I make time for sex!” Ellis finally snapped, admitting that he had fucked his assistant. “You wouldn’t touch, let alone kiss me, unless it was for a goddamn photo. You wouldn’t come out with me to parties, only publicity events. God, you weren’t even home to pretend like this was anything more than a business deal. All you do is work! No wonder people call you an ‘icy bitch’!”

“Get. Out.” Lia whispered, scowl dropping and face becoming blank once more.

Ellis rolled his eyes, gathering up his strewn belongings. “I live here. You can’t just–”

He cut off as Lia piercingly screamed, grabbing the baseball bat she kept beneath her bed in case of an intruder. “Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!”

His eyes went wide, and he dropped his stuff on the ground, rapidly backing up. “Fuck, okay! Jesus… I’ll– I’ll just send someone for my stuff.” He stuttered, backing out of the room.

“That’s if I don’t burn it all first!” She shouted at him, following to make sure he went through the front door.

Just before the front door closed behind him, he threw back to her, “Your publicist is gonna have a field day with your mental ass.”

Upon hearing the front door finally slam shut, Lia slumped to the floor. She wanted to sob, wanted to be sad, but she couldn’t find it in her.

It’s not like she really loved Ellis or anything. He was more of a PR stunt than anything, but he was still supposed to be her boyfriend. They had a contract, for god’s sake!

With her reputation for being cold-hearted and his for being a player, their publicists thought fake-dating was the solution to their problems. Guess they didn’t account for the fact that Ellis really is a player and would cheat on her.

Now, Lia would have to deal with the backlash from both PR teams for breaking up with Ellis by herself, because god knows he wouldn’t take any responsibility…

She sighed, forlorn, and pulled out her phone. “Honestly, fuck this…”

She needed an escape. She needed time away from the limelight and the pressure of vocal training and fittings and interviews and, and, and…

She needed a proper holiday.

Lia pulled herself together, finding her phone among the mess in her room, and quickly dialed her assistant. “I need to get out of town,” she started as a way of introduction. When she heard her assistant hum in confusion, she continued, “I need some peace and quiet. I need… to be able to eat carbs without someone complaining I might’ve gained one single pound. I need to be able to go shopping or stroll in a park without getting mobbed. I need to just have some alone time. I need a vacation.”

“Do you have a place in mind?” Lia’s assistant sighed through the phone. She was very familiar with Lia’s determination once she had made up her mind on something; there was no use in arguing. It would just be easier to go ahead and schedule the trip.

“I’m not sure. Send me some options this evening. I want something quaint. Small but not rundown. A fairytale Christmas.”

Her assistant hummed again, already scrolling through a couple viable options. “How does ‘Christmas in the country’ sound?”

“Send it through.”

🎄

Snow fluttered around the car, and yet, Lia couldn’t find herself to be mesmerized as the driver from her private car drove off, leaving her to walk the rest of the way in the freezing, icy cold with all of her luggage.

By the time she finally made it to the cottage, teeth chattering and lips a little blue, she was exhausted. Lia managed to unpack her bags before collapsing onto the small bed. Unfortunately, even if she was physically exhausted, her mind was racing.

She stared up at the ceiling and blew out a heavy exhale. “I must be crazy…” With a look around the tiny cottage, Lia settled to give it one night. She would try relaxing and if she still felt crazy in the morning, she’d be on the first available flight home.

🎄

“Hey!” Someone shouted, banging on the front door and startling Lia awake in the middle of the night. “Hurry up and let me in! I’m freezing out here!”

Lia crept down the stairs, Rosé’s dog Hank already at the door yipping, and called out, “Um… Who is it?”

“It’s me, Rosie! I swear to God, if you don’t let me in I’ll–”

As Lia yanked the door open, a woman stumbled in cutting off her words. Her eyes blinked at Lia before she tilted her head like a confused puppy. “You are not my cousin?”

“Um, no. I’m not… Did Rosé not tell you?” The obviously drunken woman shook her head rapidly, and Lia sighed. “We exchanged houses for the holidays. She went to L.A., and I am… here. Well, at least until morning. I’m thinking I actually lost my mind a little bit, and maybe I should’ve just went to therapy or at the very least talked to my publicist or, God, even my assistant before just deciding to hop on a plane and come to a country I had never been to. And, oh, I’m so sorry! I’m rambling, and you’re still freezing…”

Rosé’s cousin smiled softly, sidestepping Lia to come in by the fireplace while Lia laughed at herself lightly. “It’s okay. I think it’s cute.” She added quietly, adding another log to the small embers. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you… I’m Lia.”

Y/N turned to smile up at her, and before turning back away, Lia swore she heard her mumble, “pretty,” but neither decided to comment on it. After a few moments of silence as the fire began crackling back to life, Y/N looked back over, “So I’m sorry for crashing your… hm, mental breakdown? I was out drinking with friends, and normally, Rosie lets me crash here, but I can head home in a bit. Just really need to warm up some…”

“It’s really no problem… You can, if you need to… spend the night, I mean. It’s really late to be calling a cab, and you can’t drive in this state anyway, so…”

Y/N smiled again, sweeter than before. “I really appreciate it, Lia…” Another breath of silence, both women curling onto either end of the sofa and watching the flames dance. “So… If it’s not too personal, what made you think coming here was a crazy idea?”

“I actually just went through a break up. Well, kind of… If I’m being really honest, I didn’t love him, or even really like him, that much. We were together mostly for PR reasons.” Lia shook her head, “I’m sorry. Once again, I’m rambling and definitely trauma-dumping on you.”

“No, it’s okay. Clearly you need to get it off your chest,” Y/N turned her body towards Lia, “And I’m definitely willing to lend an ear.”

Lia muttered a small, “thank you,” with a shy smile before sighing. “I guess, really, I didn’t want to feel alone on the holidays again. Last year, I spent my whole Christmas reading nasty articles and speculation about how I was definitely not going to be kissing anyone on New Year’s because I’m such a ‘frigid bitch,’ and the worst part is they ended up being right! I thought that Ellis and I would be spending at least this year together, but then he went and cheated. I know it was an orchestrated relationship to make us both look better to the media, but he still violated my trust and our contract. And so I just needed to get away. I don’t know why I thought coming somewhere where I’m totally alone would make me feel somehow less alone, but here I am, and hence why I think I’ll probably just leave tomorrow…” Lia took a deep breath, “Bet you’re so glad you knocked on that door tonight, huh?”

Y/N smiled, soft and eyes lidded, “I am, actually.”

“Um…” Lia blushed, briefly turning away. She rose to stand, Y/N standing as well, and Lia awkwardly waved, “Again, sorry for dumping that all on you… Good night.”

Before she could fully pass her, Y/N leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Lia’s cheek, close to the corner of her mouth. “Sweet dreams.”

They both froze and Y/N opened her mouth to apologize, Lia shook her head and held up a hand. “No, don’t… Just… Do you– Can you try that… again?”

Y/N leaned forward, hesitantly, and oh-so-gently placed a light kiss on Lia’s waiting lips.

Lia hummed, her eyes fluttering. “I’m sorry… One more time? I’m just… I’ve never kissed… another…” she trailed off as Y/N brushed her fingertips over Lia’s cheekbone.

She smiled and nodded, twirling a piece of Lia’s hair before tucking it behind her ear. As Lia’s eyes fluttered closed, Y/N leaned again. One hand brushed feather-light touches down her neck and over her shoulder, brushing her arm; the other hand reached up to cup Lia’s cheek. Y/N’s warm breath danced with a pleased exhale before her lips met Lia’s waiting ones.

Too soon, Y/N had pulled away, and Lia was chasing her lips.

Lia sighed, “You know… We probably won’t see each other again since I’m leaving tomorrow.” Y/N hummed. “So… would you maybe wanna…?”

“Wanna?” Y/N smirked, eyes hooded.

“Have sex?”

Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief, “First kiss with a woman, and you already want to get me into bed?”

“Oh my god!” Lia blushed deeply, putting her hands to her cheeks, “That was so presumptuous of me. I’m so sorry! I knew I had lost my mind–”

“Hey,” Y/N giggled softly, taking Lia’s hands in hers and leaning forward to press a kiss on each reddened cheek. “It’s okay. I was trying to tease you. If that’s what you want, I’m not saying no… I mean, Jesus, look at you… But, maybe let’s start a little slower and see how things progress, yeah?”

“I’d like that…” Lia blushed again, glancing down to her hands clasped in the other woman’s. “I’m still sorry. I’m not really good at any of this…”

Y/N cocked her head with a playful smile, thumb caressing Lia’s hands reassuringly, “This being?”

“Um… sex…”

“Well, I just don’t believe that for one second.”

Lia shrugged, “It was one of the things my ex threw in my face when we were together. Not that we had that much of it since I was always so busy, but he definitely made a point to tell me when it was bad.”

“Hmm, I guess we’ll just have to see,” Y/N smirked, leaning in to press their lips together again.

The next morning, Lia made her way to the kitchen to find Y/N dressed and fixing hot tea. Lia cleared her throat, “Good morning…”

Y/N smiled over at her, “Morning. Tea? Coffee?”

“Oh, tea is fine. Thank you…” Y/N placed a mug down at the table for Lia, and they both settled into a moment of silence. After she sipped her drink, Lia cleared her throat again, “So listen… Last night was a lot of fun, but I really meant it last night when I said that I’m leaving today so… I’m sorry, but it can’t be anything serious…”

“Lia,” Y/N smiled over her mug of tea, “You really overthink and apologize too much, you know? It’s really okay. I know that was new for you. I’m glad to have given you that experience, and, by the way, your ex is extremely mistaken about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh definitely. I think that maybe you just had a bad… partner.” Y/N grinned, standing to wash her mug out as her phone began to ring. Lia glanced over seeing: ‘Sawyer’ flash across the screen but kept her mouth shut as Y/N continued, “Either way, I know you said you thought you’d be leaving early. But, if you change your mind, I’ll be going out to dinner and drinks with a group of friends at this pub tonight. You are very welcome to join if you do decide to stay in the country.”

Lia hummed, smiling into her own mug of tea, while Y/N readied to leave. “Thanks… I’ll– I’ll think about it.”

🎄

Y/N walked in, glancing around for her. Lia could see the question and subsequent disappointment in her eyes.

The woman’s discouraged eyes hid behind a smile quickly though as she settled into a booth with her friends, pouring herself a drink from the pitcher already at their table. The little group joked and laughed, the sound of Y/N’s giggles carrying over the crowded pub to where Lia admired from afar.

Lia sipped her own wine, head rested on hand, as Y/N finally spotted her. Y/N’s eyes lit up, smile widening. Lia wiggled her fingers in a small wave, and Y/N giggled again, nodding her head to motion Lia over.

“You stayed,” Y/N said breathily when Lia reached their table.

“I stayed.” She affirmed.

🎄

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” Y/N snickered, placing coffee in front of Lia as she plopped down at the kitchen table.

Lia groaned, blowing on the mug before taking a sip. “How are you so bubbly this morning? I feel like my head is going to split in half.” Y/N slid into the seat across from Lia, trying to subtly move a piece of clothing to one of the other chairs. Lia noticed and gasped, regardless, “Oh my god! Is that my bra!?”

Y/N hummed, mirth dancing in her eyes as she sipped her tea.

“I can’t believe we had sex again, and I can’t even remember it…” Lia groaned.

“We didn’t.” Y/N corrected, a soft smile.

“We didn’t?” Lia sighed in relief but then straightened up, “Well why not?”

Y/N laughed, “Call me old-fashioned, but one doesn’t have sex with women who are unconscious.”

“Unconscious. Oh my god…” Lia groaned again. “That’s so embarrassing! Why did you even stay the night?”

“You asked me to.”

Lia glanced up from where she had put her head down in shame, just catching the soft smile Y/N was giving her. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Y/N’s phone ringing; the name: ‘Oakley’ flashing across the screen.

“I’m sorry… I have to take this.” Y/N moved outside, and Lia stood to wash the dishes.

As she did, she noticed how Y/N laughed and beamed at the conversation with whoever Oakley was. Lia tried to tamp down the flare of jealousy—she really did—but it bubbled up anyway. Flashes of her ex with his assistant flitted through her mind, spiking her anger, but she breathed through the rush of emotions. It’s not like her and Ellis were real; it’s not like her and Y/N were together. She had no reason to be jealous, angry… upset. She should just put on her mask. Ice queen.

Eyes closed, meditatively breathing, Lia doesn’t notice Y/N come back inside.

“Hey, we should go into town today. Maybe get some lunch and actually get to know one another…”

Lia’s eyes flew open. “Like a date… why?”

Y/N smiled at her, head tilted fondly, “Because I’m really running out of reasons why we shouldn’t.”

At lunch, Lia hesitated to start a conversation. She wasn’t sure what to ask; she wasn’t sure how to date.

“So… What do you do for work?” Lia managed to ask, finally.

“I’m an editor. Rosie and I both went into book publishing. She took the art route; I took the written word.” “You studied that in school then?”

Y/N hummed, “Double major—literature and creative writing. I minored in journalism to really make sure I had a good grasp of the field.”

“So you’ve always known what you wanted to do?”

She hesitated, eyebrows scrunching and a soft laugh coming out. “This is feeling a bit like an interview.”

Lia blushed, scoffing at herself as she realized the other woman was right. She was being too intense—barely giving Y/N a moment to breathe, let alone eat her lunch, in between questions. “I’m sorry. I’m interrogating you…” Lia conceded. “I just– To be honest, I haven’t been on a date in a really long time, let alone a first one. I told you my last relationship was fabricated by my PR manager and that was for a reason…”

“Well…” Y/N cleared her throat, holding her face as neutral as possible, “We’ve already had sex so let’s just relax a bit, yeah?” She bit down on her giggle at seeing Lia duck her face to hide her blush. “Are you blushing? Why?”

Lia cleared her throat, taking a sip of her water, “You just… make me nervous.”

“Well now, I’m blushing,” Y/N smiled at the other woman, “I like you, Lia. Let’s try this again.”

“Let’s.”

🎄

“Okay, you can do this…” Lia breathed, hyping herself up to knock on the door. As the door opened, Lia smiled at Y/N and rushed out, “So I was home, doing nothing and just… thinking of you. And I know I said ‘nothing serious,’ but I do like you, and I just thought that–” Dishes clinked in the background, “Oh… You’re not… alone, are you?”

Y/N grimaced, and Lia blushed deeply, embarrassed; but before either could speak again, a small voice chirped up, “Mommy? Who is it?” A little girl, the spitting image of Y/N, pushed past and stared up at Lia.

“Um, why don’t you come in… Oakley, baby, go wash your hands for dinner.”

As the little girl ran off, a teenage girl following behind, Lia turned back to Y/N. “So she’s your…”

“Daughter, yes.”

“And the other girl…?”

Y/N smiled, hanging up Lia’s coat, “That’s Sawyer. She’s Oakley’s babysitter. I often invite her for dinner when I’ve worked late. She’s basically another daughter if I’m being honest.”

“So are you… divorced? Or…?”

“Neither.” Y/N grimaced, setting a place at the table for Lia. “Oakley’s biological father bailed on us the second he found out. He was my college sweetheart, and yet, I haven’t heard or seen him since. At this point, I really don’t want to. It’s hard, but I have Sawyer and my parents and Rosie helps too when she can.”

Lia began to respond but was interrupted as Oakley and Sawyer returned, everyone settling at the table.

She expected the evening to be awkward, having intruded on the family, but it was nice. Lia was able to see a new side, a silly side, to the sexy, mysterious woman that had begun to capture her heart. A soft smile permanently etched onto her face at the way Y/N interacted with her daughter, and Lia watched them with—in Sawyer’s whispered, teasing words—heart eyes.

After Sawyer had left, with the leftovers wrapped up and a warm drink in hand, and Oakley had been put to bed, Lia and Y/N cuddled into the sofa with glasses of wine.

“I don’t want to be pushy, but… why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“You didn’t want ‘serious,’ and I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing something onto you that you didn’t ask for.”

“But you didn’t even give me the choice.”

Y/N sighed, “You’re right, I’m sorry, but you have to understand this from my perspective. You are a beautiful, strong, independent woman. I think you’re amazing, but I also know I’m the first woman you’ve ever considered romantically… I’m a bit hesitant, especially when I have my daughter to think of. You told me you didn’t want to be serious, and I respect that. But this part of my life is about as serious as it can get.”

Lia pouted for a minute, head falling back on the couch. “You’re right too. This is so complicated…”

“If you don’t want it to be, that’s okay. We can just be friends for the rest of your time here.”

“I do like you, though, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled sadly, “I know… I like you too, Lia.”

🎄

Lia sat alone, flipping through the channels while she ate her fettuccine. She glanced over at her packed bags, waiting for her flight the next day. She pouted down at Hank, blissfully asleep on the couch next to her.

“What do you think, Hank? Should I call her or maybe just–” She was cut off by a knock on the door. Confused, Lia got up to answer the door, not even able to get a greeting out before warm lips are meeting hers.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N breathed out when their lips disconnected. Her forehead rested against Lia’s, and she rubbed their noses together against the biting cold. “I should’ve called and warned you I was coming over. I just… I know you’re leaving tomorrow, and I was thinking about you. And… I didn’t want to miss one last chance to see you.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you’re here.” Lia smiled, tugging Y/N’s hands to pull her inside.

“What are you doing?” Y/N laughed breathily.

“Taking you to bed.”

After a couple hours of slow passion, they were both simultaneously exhausted and fully awake—not wanting to miss any remaining moments with one another. “So…” Y/N whispered into the night, out of breath, while Lia cuddled up to her. “What happens now?”

“Well, logically, I fly back to L.A. tomorrow. So, let’s just say that we try long distance?” Lia suggested, before continuing the theoretical, “It’d probably be fine for a while, but if we’re being honest, my schedule would be packed with the New Year, and you have your own full-time career. Plus, you have Oakley. So either one of us flying back and forth at a whim is a bit unrealistic. We could definitely keep up with calls, texts, even video chats, but how soon before we get tired of that? How soon before we get agitated and start arguing? Then one of us says something the other doesn’t mean. And we break up. And then we’re sad all over again, freshly broken hearted.”

Y/N scoffed a laugh in disbelief. “You are so pessimistic sometimes, you know?” She pulled the other closer into her, warmth radiating from every place their skin touched. “I have something to add to your little scenario that you may not have considered…”

Lia hummed, and Y/N hesitated before glancing over to meet her eye, “I’m in love with you…” She breathed out, watching as Lia’s own breath caught and eyes widened. “I really didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. I know it’d be difficult. I know a lot of this is new for you; honestly, it’s a bit new for me too. I haven’t been in a real relationship since Oakley was born. And I get that’s a whole other layer of ‘serious.’ I’m a package deal: buy one, get one free… But I know what I want in life, and what I want is you. I love you, Lia.”

“Jesus, you can’t just drop that on a girl…” Lia smiled softly, a hint of awkwardness in her eyes that Y/N read easily

Y/N grinned back, “Don’t say it back. I don’t want you to unless you really mean it. I just wanted you to know how I feel about this situation. I wanted you to know that even with the crazy schedules and the long distance, I want this. I want to try with you.”

Lia’s eyes softened, reassured, and she leaned in to press her lips to Y/N’s, moving to straddle her once more.

🎄

Y/N closed the car trunk, and Lia turned to her with a smile, barely concealed tears rimming her eyes. “Okay, so this isn’t a big deal, right? We agreed we could try long distance. We’ll call, text. It’ll work out… Right?”

“Right,” Y/N agreed, soft smile in place, but Lia could see the subtle tenseness in her jaw, her eye twitching as she tried not to let any hurt show.

“Okay. Good.” Lia grinned up at Y/N, “Then, I’m just going to kiss you like I have a million times before. And we won’t say ‘goodbye,’ it’s just ‘see you later.’”

Y/N nodded and leaned over, placing a sweet kiss to Lia’s lips. “See you later.” She whispered, barely pulling away.

“See you later,” Lia affirmed.

Staring down at the ground, Lia shuffled into the car and instructed the driver to head out. She tried her hardest not to let the “not-goodbye” get to her, but it still felt so final. And she wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Her heart ached. It felt cold. She didn’t want to be icy. She didn’t want to lose Y/N.

“Stop the car!” Lia cried out as they reached the edge of town, “Please go back.”

“Did you leave something?”

“I definitely did.” Lia sobbed lightly, her heart feeling warmer and lighter as they reapproached the cottage.

She ran up the walk, bursting through the door to find Y/N curled into a ball on the sofa, bawling.

Tears streaming down her own face, Lia approached Y/N and perched onto the cushion beside her. “I was on my way out of town, and I had a thought. Why would I leave before New Year’s Eve? I mean, that doesn’t make sense if you think about it… I know you didn’t exactly ask me out, but you did tell me you’re in love with me so I wouldn’t want to be rude and miss our date…”

“I have Oakley on New Year’s Eve. Sawyer usually stops by as well.” Y/N sniffled. “Sounds perfect,” Lia beamed, pulling the other woman into her arms.

[cyandelightz]

the nightmare you know (is better than the nightmare of the unknown)

-- Author's note: Oh my god, be careful with this one, guys. It is horror content, check the content warnings, please let me know if I missed any... Content warnings for abuse, implied CSA, implied incestuous abuse, suicide, death, graphic descriptions of gore, moderate depictions of decay in a corpse, and whatever the hell mental illness it is Buzzo has here to make him react like this. Dear lord. -- ------------------------------------ In their dreamspace, just for the two of them (well, just for Buzzo himself - Lisa isn't really there, she's been dead for almost two decades), the garden remains, beautiful and pristine, warm and lovely in sight and scent. The sky seems to shift for a moment - but he ignores it. He could easily be seeing things, and it's not important to him in this hour of celebration of his loved one.

What is important to him is her. His beloved, the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. The reason for everything that he is and will ever be. (You know your life ended when hers did.) Something in his mind itches, something that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise - not an unwelcome feeling, it is in fact familiar, and it's something Lisa inspired in him - part of what he loves her for. The fear. The discomfort. Her mean streak… He could never be upset at her for it. He knew the causes of it, all too well. And so the fear, the stomach churning, the hair raising, it feels like home - like he's finally home.

He looks up at her. She was rounded out before, like her brother and father. But she is gaunt now, bony, her grin a toothy snarl. He smiles back up at her, adoring, worshiping. Of course he got that part wrong. She could never be like Brad or Martin, regardless of whatever genetics said. Lisa would always be Lisa. And he knew Lisa as being rail-thin and gratefully, ravenously wolfing down whatever food he could bring her, be it bought with his allowance and spare change from the couch or outright shoplifted for her sake. As if she hadn't eaten in days - and he knew she hadn't, because Marty is a goddamn worthless waste of oxygen.

Her smile is even more familiar than the one he had dreamed up before. He considers it an upgrade, even if others would currently be screaming for him to run.

"Berny…" Not… Buzzo? Her voice sounds too high, too. Like a child's. "I need you to do something very important for me, okay?"

Oh. His stomach sinks, and sweat beads on his forehead. He remembers this. This was… right before she asked him to - to cut her. To make her 'ugly'. So Marty wouldn't want her any more.

He was hoping this version of her wouldn't ask for this, or wouldn't feel the need to revisit it. But it's okay. It's okay! He'll do anything for her. Anything. Even if it's cruel and unusual and…

He takes a deep breath. "Okay. Anything for you."

He manages to trudge back home (how long has it been since he's been in his father's garage?). It's as he remembers it, really. The atmosphere as oppressive as classic Americana can be - even as an adult, six foot three, he feels the need to step as softly as possible so as not to gain his father's ire or the nosiness of his brothers. He's in and out as fast as he can be, back by her side.

Except she's not there. But her old house is, strewn in garbage, down in the valley below - he remembers this sight, biking down the way, checking on her.

No, God. Please, no. Don't let this be him losing her again. His heart sticks in his chest, pounding, stomach sick as he runs toward the old house, the old garbage-covered lawn - climbing up the tree in the Armstrong's backyard as he remembers doing when he was just an adolescent, his current adult form being irrelevant to how helpless and small he feels against the force of Lisa's will to escape, to not exist if she couldn't get the abuse to stop.

There she is. Just like last time. Her feet aren't touching the ground.

A sob wracks through his frame as he's clinging to the tree branch, which miraculously supports his adult form as if he were still a spry child, tears welling in his eyes. He doesn't like to raise his voice - it's a cheap, shitty way of scaring people, like calling yourself a comedian just because you're tickling people… but this isn't to cause fear. This is unbidden, something he can't control, a body-wracking screaming, pleading to capital-G God, please don't let her be gone -

His breath catches and he gasps for breath. He saw motion in the window, and he looks up to double-check, not wanting to hope because having that hope crushed would potentially literally kill him. He saw right. She's - she's climbing down. She's coming up to the window, she's

Her face is gone. He's the one who did that to her. By her request, cutting her up with his dad's circular saw. One of her eyes has been gouged out by his clumsy hand. Gore hangs in strands off her inner musculature, her lips gone, her face trapped in a grin.

Her remaining eye is decayed, as if she'd been dead for a day or so already, covered in a milkiness. Lividity has started to appear on her pale, sun-starved skin. Even despite this, though, she opens the window, and she makes to climb out toward him. He cries further, and holds his arms out to hold her, to guide her out - he doesn't care if she's some kind of zombie so long as she's still here, Goddammit!

She's cold in his arms, and she retains that horrible, yellowed grin. He hurries to help her down from the tree. As long as she can still move and talk and think he'll worry about whatever condition, whatever near-death she's in, later - he needs to get her out of here, away from her father. He already knows what would make her put herself in the noose, and if her not having a fucking face wouldn't stop the man, nothing will.

He's on the grass, facing away from her, about to speak - about to reassure her that he'll get her out of here, he'll take care of her, they'll be through this soon, it's all gonna be okay, Lisa, I love you, please hang on -

He hears the saw starting up. He remembers he had dropped it in his rush to climb the tree.

He turns back to her. She's got it in her hands, and she's approaching him with that horrible yellowed grin, the awful fate of her face being skinned - what he inflicted on her, what he thought she wanted, what she insisted on - still, so, everpresent, the dried blood staining her whole upper body, that white silk poncho completely ruined in a nasty brown scab stuck to her frame.

"Lisa?" He questions her, backing up somewhat. But - he can't… he can't bring himself to harm her, not again, never again. "It's your turn now," she coos, softly, in that voice of hers that makes his heart flutter. He can't help but relax a little upon hearing it. "I, I don't -" "It hurts so much. I need this, Buzzo." "I…" He takes a deep breath, slowing down as he questions whether to fight this at all.

"Would it… make you happy?" "Very." "I… I…"

Tears are welling up in his eyes again, his chest wracked by ragged sobs. "I don't know what to do without you," weakly escapes his lips, a confession unbidden, something he's needed to say for years. "I got your revenge, I made your brother suffer, and now that's done, and I don't know what to do with myself any more. I'm so tired of having to make my own choices without you, I…"

She gets closer and closer, holding the saw with one hand - she reaches to cradle his face with one cold, pale hand. Staring into his eye with her one remaining, half of the other dangling out of the socket.

"I just want to know you're happy," he says, pleading to her, pleading for her forgiveness, pleading to feel worthy of anything resembling affection.

The saw cuts through the flesh of his cheek and cleaves through his nose, his brows, in an instant - an instant in which he immediately screams with all the strength his lungs can give him. He can't see any more - he's pretty sure he just lost both eyes, possibly a bit of the front of his skull - but suddenly, with an inhuman amount of strength, he's shoved to the ground. He hits the grass with the back of his head and all of the wind leaves his lungs at once.

He can feel her standing over him and he can hear the saw start up again, and that is the last thing he remembers hearing before he felt the sawblade rip his chest cavity open.

It is the last thing he can remember before he wakes up again, in his bed.

He has to peel himself off of it to want to move at all. His chest aches with a horrible pain as if it's been cut open.

Dragging himself to the bathroom, to get started in his day, to use the mirror… reveals a horrendous scar over the middle of his upper body, going on a diagonal from right to left. Right where he felt the saw cut through his ribcage. Exactly that, exactly there.

Was it really just a dream? He doesn't know any more. He drags his feet down the stairs- he doesn't want to be awake…

And he sees Lisa outside the window. Hands folded behind her back. Smiling her yellowed smile.

Even, despite, (because of?) what happened, he can't help but rush again to her side.

"Buzzo," she says, in her soft, sing-song voice. "I'm so happy to see you again!"

And she pulls the saw out from behind her back.

He would gladly die for her entertainment. Over and over and over again. He could know no better bliss than to have a purpose in life that functions for her amusement, for her love. At least then he has a purpose. Outside of her, with Brad mutated and suffering, he has nothing left to cling to, to define himself by, other than pure, meager hope that she's just happy. Somewhere, wherever she is, please, God, just let her be happy.

If breaking him over and over with the same saw he used on her is what makes her happy - so be it.

[venvellan]

my serious analysis is that if you're good aligned the only two outcomes to this romance are either he tries to manipulate you and instead learns what it means to be safe and loved and not need to abuse power to be happy, and it's a beautiful story, or he successfully manipulates you, and whatever good you tried to teach him along the way means nothing because he got what he wanted anyway and thats what he'll cling to. out of fear, anger, ambition, the horrible feelings that put him there. if there's an ounce of the person he could've been in there it's buried under centuries of fear and the ultimate confirmation bias. like it was buried within cazador. like it probably lived deep within cazador's abuser.

the revelation that cazador was ultimately unhappy and driven by fear that fueled his hunger for power isn't to "humanize" him, for lack of a better term. it's not meant to inspire pity. it's to tell you that astarion, who's terrified and grabbing for whatever power he can to get himself to the top, should not get what he wants. because, well. cazador.

it's a shame that astarion can't be ascendant without becoming the horrors that were done to him, because it means putting him back in an eternity of darkness. i feel that. it sucks. but breaking the cycle of abuse can come with great personal sacrifice. you lose people, you give up what you knew before, you go through intense self reflection and discovery. you admit your own flaws and vulnerability to others and accept the help you need. you have to make yourself a better person because the people before refused to. the sun is astarion's sacrifice.

it is incredibly brave and strong of him to deny himself the ritual when he knows what it would do for him and how easy it would be to go through with. he didn't plan the ritual and he's not to blame for the atrocities committed in its preparation, but to realize that going through with it would bind him to it forever. that he'd assume responsibility by using their suffering for personal gain. that he really can be better. it's just so beautiful of him.

it's not a "happy" ending because the aftermath of abuse is bitter and painful and difficult. it's not supposed to feel good to watch him sob on the ground and live his last days in the sun. you should ache for him, you should want so badly for him to have better, but you should understand that following cazador's footsteps isn't that. better is something you have to find and create with him. it isn't easy, but it's worth it, and it will heal him. astarion's story is bittersweet and evocative and deeply impactful. it hurts. it's supposed to.

i got the evil astarion manipulative-ass quotes from this video also thank you @rpgchoices for being my source for the cazador information. you shouted me out, i'm returning the favor. doing god's work.

i have HEARD the damn ascendant vampire voice lines that mf is EVIL

it's better for him 🥺 he's happier this way 👉👈 baby he's manipulating you and it's working

"i can take anything i want. i should've made you a spawn just to teach you that." "i would have ruined your love, used your trust until you were nothing."

you are damn near illiterate if this reads as better or happier

[bbyquokka]

9:25 pm (lfx)

→ GENRE: timestamp | drabble | angst

→ WARNINGS: gn!reader | mentions of taking sleeping pills | alcohol consumption | just a lot of feels and angst rly ;-;

→ WORDS: 0.6k ~ (662)

→ A/N: inspired by deep end from the skz-replay album. did i listen to it on repeat whilst writing this? yup. Am i a sobbing mess rn? yuppp

→ m.list – → ao3

He cannot sleep. He wanders around his apartment night after night, swallowing sleeping pill after sleeping pill, but the memories still haunt him.

Your sweet, angelic laugh. The soft slaps of your bare feet on the wood floor, the soft hums of a tune you adore, dead and gone.

His apartment has never felt so lifeless.

Every room he enters holds a memory of you, a memory he holds so dear to his heart he cannot let go. He can see you, see you making brownies, lounging on the sofa. 

Your smirk as you seduce him. Fingertips dancing ever so lightly on his soft skin, like tiny pixie feet. Your warmth suffocating him, surrounding his body in a blanket of pleasure. Your moans like music to his ears.

He was addicted to you, in more ways than one. You were the cause of his high sex drive. The second his eyes fall upon you, he's caught under your spell, blood rushing south in an instant.

He doesn't have the energy for it. Sex is meaningless to him if it's not with you. You made him feel alive and now that you're gone, he's nothing but a shell of nothingness.

The picture frames remain on the tables, holding special and precious memories of you both. Now all they hold is a thick layer of dust and dirt. Your belongings are still scattered around the apartment; he hasn't gained the courage to sort through them and box them up.

Time stood still. Felix found himself in an endless cycle, spinning around and around. The world carried on around him but for him, time stood still. His body stuck in an endless loop. 

You kept him grounded, advising him and soothing him of his worries. Now they swim around and around in his head, tormenting him, laughing at him until he finds himself screaming into the night. 

Only, no one heard his screams, his cries for help. 

Alone. 

Awake for x amount of hours. swallowing x amount of pills and drinking x amount of cheap vodka, nothing works.

Frustrated. Because nothing works. Nothing seems to soothe him, nothing seems to drown out his thoughts. His own head became his worst enemy. 

How foolish of him to think a walk in the cold, winter air would make him feel alive. It just made it worse. Every store he walked past, every corner he turned was a new memory of you.

“Please make it stop.” Teary eyes looking at the night sky, his usual bottle of vodka in one hand, the other clutching the material of his t-shirt where his broken heart aches. “I can't do this without you.”

Silent sobs shake his thin frame. He's cried so much that he has nothing left.

“You promised.” He'd whisper harshly at his phone screen, his wallpaper still of you after all these months. Violent sobs shake his frame, and there it is. 

A tear. It lands on his screen, the watery texture mixing the pixels together in a range of colours. His vision blurred, a pounding headache approaching from the pressure.

“I want to feel alive again. Please give me a sign. I'll do anything for a glimpse of hope. Just make this pain stop! it's unbearable.”

“Why is the world so cruel to me?” He leans back, sniffing whilst bringing the rim of the vodka bottle to his lips. He hisses, feeling the burn travel down his throat and settling in his empty stomach.

It burns, but it's a sigh he can still feel. Even if he doesn't want to.

“Now I'm truly all alone in this world.” He whispers, eyes closing slowly. He's tired, exhausted body slowly shutting down. He doesn't fight it.

He allows it.

So consumed with his own thoughts, he doesn't hear the soft crunch of the snow approach him. It wasn't until he smelt that all too familiar scent he opened his eyes slowly, a coat wrapped around his shoulders.

“Y/N?”

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @laylasbunbunny | @meltheninja13

[karmawonders]

Had a brainrot so here we go.

🌸Inspired by albedo’s event at the whopper flowery fuckery that transpires🌸

warnings// mentions of torture, death, blood, injury, self doubt, self loathing, general angst. Religious themes, SAGAU ANGST. Might of missed something, in which case, please let me know. It is not my intention to trigger anyone and I would feel horrible in the event I do.

Author note: lol I did not read this through well so formatting might be shit but what ever it’s late I’ll look at it later . No proofread so oof!

Actual Imposter AU but it’s a WhopperFlower

When it was revealed that you were the actual Divine God of Teyvat, the imposter who had the throne was revealed to be nothing more than a whopperflower.

It hurt their ego’s obviously. Pretty badly.

Not all of this world's past gods worshipped the Divine One. Conquest, desire for power. To be better. To prove themselves as beyond the one this world was made for. So when a whopperflower absorbed several different gods' ambitions, it made sense for it to pose as the Divine One to begin with.

Lies, lies lies.

That's what the acolytes said as they sobbed and begged for forgiveness, and how they worshipped such a traitor, such an imposter.

They never performed miracles because why would they waste their time on such foolish beings.

They never proved themselves with their supposed golden blood, as it was an insult to do such.

They were never kind to them, why would a being as high as they care?

Their punishments were harsh, even if you were to breathe a little too loudly.

None of their apologies ever reached the false gods' ears.

Atone for their mistakes with fine luxuries. Not a wrinkle in the fine garments or you may as well lose a finger, if not your life.

For this world was theirs, it was their choice on how to treat it's inhabitants. And cruelty was the way they had dictated.

The shock they must have felt when a hunt for an imposter was called by the false god. Of course they would be the first to know, they were made from the ambitions of old gods and origins of a whopperflower.

The other creatures swarmed to the True God. To bask in their presence. Which was kind, gentle.

Soft and loving.

Warm and safe.

Nothing like how the False One ruled.

“Bring them to me.” Is all the false one said as they stormed away, maids and passerbys weretrembling in their rage, praying that such rage would not be directed towards them.

ALl that could go through the loyal acolytes minds were, one, who would be stupid enough to do that, and two, if they were to bring them the imposter, would they perhaps gain their supposed gods favor? At minimum, recognition? Some sort of shield from their anger? A get-out-of-jail free card, if asked to be an outlet for their anger?

When they found you,it was as if the world stopped. Maybe it really did, Teyvat doing all it could to make it known that you were the true god, the true intended recipient of the gift that Teyvat was.

The warmth they felt so much as looking at you was nearly unbearable. SUch a stark difference from the one they had been worshipping. And when you looked at them, with true joy in your eyes, they couldn't help but crack, bend, and break.

They were fooled, they lied too. They were taken advantage of. They had hurt, bled, starved under the dictatorship of an overgrown houseplant.

���///🌸

Venti fell to the ground and sobbed and sobbed when he saw Cecilia's bloom beneath the ground as you walked. Nothing like the False God he had been worshipping, the grass nearly leaning away from their steps. Nothing like you, where the plants reached and nearly begged to be in your presence, which you reciprocated kindly, soft kisses amongst flowers that bloom and grow to reach your face, even more so when a soft chuckle leaves your pretty lips.

He waited to be kicked, hit, as he crouched onto the ground, desperately trying to hide his tears.He waited to be knocked away like La Signora did to him when he lost his gnosis, back when the Traveller still searched Teyvat for their sibling. To be near tortured by the False God for his voice cracking as he played his lyre at their call.

He deserved to be hit is all he could think, after all, he was such a fool as to worship blindly. So when you cupped his face with concern, and to ask him if he was alright, to ask him what was wrong, what you could do to help, he could only sob more, near torturous when you began hugging him, encompassing him in your warmth. He would have never received such actions from the false one. Nothing even close from anyone really. His hands nearly bled and he gripped into your clothing, tears rolling and staining the cloth.

He would have received punishment for soiling such clothing if he was doing so with the False One. But instead of doing so, or even being disgusted, you used your own clothing as a means to wipe away his tears, offering yourself as a means to comfort him. Him, who had been nothing more than a lowly wind spirit. And you, a Divine God, who has seen, created, and travelled, who has comprehended more than he ever would. More than he would ever hope to, being the equivalent of his Kleenex tissue.

He loathed himself for being so weak within your presence.

🌸///🌸

Zhongli had worshipped the Divine One for thousands of years. Guizhong taught and guided him, not just in the strategy of war, but in you, and your presence, your work. How Teyvat was created by a group of lesser gods, to earn your favor. For beings even stronger then him to create the whole of Teyvat for you, oh, you must be something wonderful. Something beautiful. Something beyond he could ever comprehend, ever understand.

So when the supposed Divine One showed up in nothing more than rags, he was furious to say the least. He felt something strange when meeting them. How insulting it was to ask them questions, was what the supposed god said. Teyvat was made for them and they were not given a warm welcome! They had arrived in shambles, in rags! They should destroy Teyvat for doing such a thing!

He should have listened to that strange beckoning, that maybe, just maybe, the person he had knelt before wasn't actually the divine one. Maybe if he hadn’t pushed away his draconic instincts he would have seen the truth of the one sitting amongst luxuries the people of Liyue, the Tianquan, and all of Teyvat offered them. Perhaps he would have realized that he, the ex-archon of Liyue, was being taken advantage of. There were so many red flags he missed, or ignored, looking back.

How none of the adepti cared, who only approached once, gave their regards, and left. He should have looked more into the scowls upon his old companions faces. He should have thought more on how the earth almost sickened whenever they were outside.

Even dogs barked at them, birds all but left the area whenever the self-proclaimed god was about.

He was a dragon! He was ancient! He should have known! Did not Guizhong tell him of the possibilities of such deceits in the past?

You, Zhongli, Ninguang, Ganyu, Keqing, and a few others were all in a meeting discussing things. You were so humble, so gracious, during this whole thing. He couldn't help but realise that being next to you felt right. It was in his very soul, the knowledge that you were in fact Teyvats Divine God. The fact that you denied your status of God almost made him angry. Mostly at himself. The false god had sentenced anyone who even questioned them to death immediately.

And now here you were, shaking your head and smiling, a bit confused, but happy to be there regardless. The way Teyvat reacted to you was proof of your divinity.

When Ganyu tripped and tea split everywhere with shattered glass, your kindness in helping her was proof of your divinity. If this had happened with the False one, Ganyu would have been punished severely for so much as spilling.

The way that you picked up the glass, helped with the cleaning was proof of your divinity. The way the glass pricked your finger slightly, golden blood appearing, was proof of your divinity. Even in your confusion of the entire situation, it was all proof.

You could breathe and it would be proof. Sneeze and it would be proof. All of Teyvat spoke, bearing witness to your status as its god.

Ninguang and the others apologized once more for their foolishness, which you all but said was alright. Whopper Flowers were convincing fellows after all, even when not fueled by ancient gods' ambitions.

(Too many times had you been ambushed by Whopperflowers when you thought it was just a nice group of sweet flowers when you played Genshin)

Ganyu apologises for spilling the tea. Hutao, who was also there, apologises for not recognizing the spirits distaste for the one they used to worship. Keqing just apologises for the general situation. Ninguang apologizes for foolishly leading Liyue and its resources into spending effort on what she so elegantly called a pestering weed.

Soon they left after you assured them it was alright, them obviously leaving you with Zhongli.

You asked him if they knew that he was Rex Lapis as soon as they left. If he had any doubts before, they were all gone now. The False One didn’t even know he had been Rex Lapis. Yet you did. He quietly walked over to you, waiting for your permission to touch your hand, before kissing it in utter devotion. He would do better. He was no longer Rex Lapis, but he was still a dragon. He was still Morax. And as Morax, he will make sure to take care of you. To keep you safe. To prove to himself, to prove to Guizhong, to prove to you, that he was worthy of being in your presence, worthy of worshipping you, after such utter foolishness.

🌸///🌸

Ei had been working herself ragged ever since the supposed Divine One entered Teyvat, and visited Inazuma. She was ashamed of herself and her nation, being scolded at how dangerous the lands were!

And they were right, of course. She had been so focused on keeping eternity for inazuma, that she didn't herself see to its threats. Which made her think. Was it really Inazuma she seeked eternity for, or was it herself? Did she fear to fade with time like her sister? Outside of the streets it was dangerous to so much as leave the city. The storms that ravaged around Inazuma, the monsters that spread across it.

When the False God visited Inazuma, they were attacked by said monsters. They were nearly injured. She had leapt to their side to fight off the attack, and of course she won, but after the reveal that they were in fact just a power hungry whopperflower, she couldn't help but regret doing so. She should have let that weed be torn to pieces.

Maybe if she didn’t act, then Inazuma wouldn't of been shamed publicly by the False God. It was a disgusting land, they said. Dangerous, unkept. The Archon who ruled over it had been a lazy fool who did not care for its people.

The words hit her face, and she crumbled as they left, leaving her kneeling. After they left and her nation was shamed, many things changed.

She no longer locked herself in her plane of euthymia all the time. She often went about, slaying threats and enemies within her nation. She created another puppet, much like the Shogun, to look after things when she was away fighting.

During this time, purging her land of threats, where she really could think. This had happened before, back when the traveller was still in Teyvat. Had she yet again neglected her duties as an Archon? The Supposed God had shamed Teyvat. People were ashamed to say they were Inazuman. Ashamed of the nation she was supposed to have risen to glory. She was utterly ashamed. And this shame drove her to personally see to threats, no matter the size. General Kujou Sara was almost out of a job at one point.

The thunder of Inazuma roared when it was revealed the god she had been working herself so hard for was the equivalent of a greedy Walmart houseplant. And the rumors that the real god was kind, was sweet? She was an idiot, idiot, idiot. Her sister would be ashamed of her, surely.

Yae Miko said that there were things to be learnt from this, however. Ei remembered back to when she first met the False God. Yae was there, behind them, with a frown on their face. Ei should have trusted Yae Miko, her dear familiar, her friend, when she said something felt wrong. Not even trust, maybe at least consider at the minimum. Idiotic. That's what she was.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

When word came out that the real Divine One was visiting Inazuma, she was running around like a headless chicken. She would die before anything bad happened whilst they visited her lands. She could not even provide a safe area for a sentient flower!

She made sure that your arrival was safe, a means to restore honor to her land. Not that much honor is lost when an imposter shames you, but still. Your smile made the weight on her shoulders ease. Your excitement to see the different islands, the tenshaku, the foxes, and more. She frowned when you expressed excitement to see the different, dangerous, creatures of Inazuma. Had she not spent so much time clearing them out for your safety?

Later, during the night, when you were nowhere to be found, she panicked. When she found you, sitting amongst rifthounds dangerously close to her city, she was ready to pull out her booba sword and strike them all down for you.

But you were laughing, happy. And the creatures were as well. Even the dangerous creatures of Teyvat bended to your whim, eagerly, happily. You had spotted her and excitedly brought her over to play with them. The creatures of Inazuma were dangerous, sure, but with you they were nothing more then pets.

Sure, her lands have been dangerous, filled with terrifying creatures, and sure, she had cleared out quite a bit of them, but seeing your joy at seeing Inazumans creatures made her shrivel a bit.

Sure, her clearing the lands of many threats made it safer for her people, that was not a waste. But being fooled by the False One? That was a waste. Her idiocy, her revolve, that was a waste. All of Teyvat worshipping a greedy flower was a waste. Shedding tears over cruel words from someone who meant nothing. That was a waste.

She will make sure she isn't a waste of time for you though, she will lay her life down before her next actions are ever a waste again.

🌸/// 🌸

I really like this premise I might just make my sagau universe based off this ejsksjdhjdkdlglfjshshs

I’m tellin you a whopperflower that got corrupted totally would pretend to be the divine one.

[drakenology]

the yakuza wife - yakuzaboss!bakugo x housewife reader - inspired by @hanji-is-life ‘s sexy ass. 

yakuza au

tw: violence, sadism, mentions of blood, smut, cum, cussing, daddy/ddlg kinks undertones, mentions of guns, very much harley quinn and joker only joker actually loves harley in this ya know?

“where the fuck is my money?” bakugo asks this bludgeoned man tied up to a metal chair in some god forsaken warehouse god only knows where. 

“please sir, i’ll get it to you as soon as I can! please stop!” the man pleads, flinching when bakugo raises his fist to land a mean left hook into his jaw with a dark chuckle. 

“you know you shouldn’t borrow from people if you have no intentions in payin’ em back. it’s fuckin’..” he pauses before taking a crowbar and bashing the man in both his knees, blood curdling screams filling the empty space. “rude!”

bakugo smirks as the man begs for mercy, pulling a set of pliers of his pocket and holding them up to the man’s face to tease him, grabbing by his neck to make him meet his intimidating gaze. 

“shoulda thought of that before trying to playing me for a fuckin’ fool.. hey, I wonder how many teeth I can pull outta ya before your weak ass passes out.” he grunts, waving the plier in his face until the sound of his phone ringing stops him from doing anything.

“you’re lucky I gotta take this.” he mumbles, taking a piece of dirty cloth and shoving it into his mouth to keep him quiet.

bakugo turns away and rolls up his sleeve, setting up his tools for torture as he answers the phone. 

“hi baby!” you chime, at the mall having the time of your life with his credit card. 

“hey. ‘m workin’ whaddaya want?” he says, holding up his pliers and sitting them down on the table as his hostage screams in the background. 

“just checking on you, dummy! whatcha want for dinner, hm? i know you haven’t eaten yet.” you say, holding up different dresses to your frame to imagine yourself in them. “hey, pink or powder blue?”

“pink. and ‘m not hungry. you’ve got security with you, right baby?” he asks, kicking the man onto the floor with a loud thud. 

“of course. you won’t let me leave the house without them.” you respond, not even paying attention to the muffled screams you hear in the background. you’ve learned not to ask too many questions when it comes to being a yakuza wife. 

“gotta keep my baby safe, right? listen, princess I gotta go. i’ll be home before 9 okay?” 

you suck your teeth and roll your eyes, “fine. be careful okay?”

“always am. love you baby.” as he hangs up and returns to his task. 

the difference between you and katsuki was night and day. everyone knew you to be so sweet and kind; unbeknownst to them all how you ended up with a cretin like Bakugo. even though Katsuki was immoral in many ways, he knew marrying you was the right thing to do. who else would want to dress his wounds and pick out his suits for the day?

katsuki demanded you quit your job. in fact he came with you to put in your two weeks notice, tough scowl staining his features as your boss signed the approval with shaking hands.

from that day on he ensured you were well taken care of and that marrying him and becoming his housewife came with many perks.

for starters, your husband was loaded. all those years of extorting and money laundering paid off every time you come home with a couple shopping bags from the mall.

katsuki loved lavishing you in the finest of everything, adoring how you look in designer. so much so, he fucks you by the bay window of your luxury penthouse, the Chanel dress he just bought you hiked up over your ass as his calloused fingers make way into your mouth. you’re pinned to the glass, bare breasts pressed against the window as he railed you from behind. and he wonders why you turned out to be a spoiled brat.

your gifts always made you stand out above the rest. many men fawn over you and he knows this. just a small price to pay for having a fine ass wife. but if anyone ever forgot their place, if anyone ever got to close. well. that’d be the last time you’d ever see them. course you have no idea why. but even though katsuki loved you with all his heart, you could be a real pain in the ass. you were so bratty, especially when he was busy. 

one day you came trotting into his office in the middle of some business deal. whatever. your jimmy choos popped and you needed a new pair before the yacht party you were attending started. 

“daddy’s taking care of business right now, okay? go wait outside.”

“no! you promised we’d go shopping! I need new shoes what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” you whine, pouting like usual to get your way. bakugo’s brow raised, walking towards you and gesturing for the meeting to continue without him. his hand rested on your lower back as he escorted you out.  

he fucked your brains in in the next room for disobeying him, panties around your ankles, your charm anklet jingling as he picked up your legs. 

“spoiled fuckin’ brat. told you to wait didn’t I? hm? or did you make a scene ‘cause you wanted my dick?” your head hangs back as your hips are held down by him, thrusts brutal as you cry for him to slow down, face turned away from his. he grabs your chin and turns you around harshly with his scarred and calloused hands, bruised knuckles turning white with a tight grip. 

“look at me when i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.” 

he came inside you when he was done, pulling your panties up for you as it dripped down your leg. 

“now.. back to what I was doin’. tell the driver to take your ass home.” he huffs with a zip of his pants and a shake in his sleeves to fix them. bakugo leaves you on the desk, leaving the door cracked for you to leave when you got yourself together. and when you did you could hardly hold yourself up, holding your high heels in your hand as you limp to the car waiting outside for you. 

having a yakuza boss as a husband was always exciting. something in you liked the danger; the thrill.

you tell this tale to your other socialite girlfriends and they almost never believe you.

you were out with bakugo on a date when work called. to your dismay, he had to get up and leave. you insisted on being brought along, hating being left alone in that big house that was often empty without him. he agreed but only if you promised to be quiet like a good little girl. 

when you arrive at some warehouse (the same one mentioned earlier), a man was already hog tied on the ground, muffled screams behind a piece of duck tape as bakugo ripped it off. you sat by a table, legs folded in annoyance. this interrupted date night? you scoff and fold your arms. 

“ah. good seeing you old friend. remember me?” he asks, taunting him a little with a gun in his hand pressing it against his jaw as the man let out muffled pleas for him not to shoot. 

“you tried stealing from me. fuckin’ idiot. my boys caught you in some hotel with your little girlfriend. did you think you were gonna have a victory fuck after you made off with my money, hm?” bakugo asks, hitting him upside the head with the butt of his pistol.

you jump at the sound of the blow, a small part of you turned on watching your husband beat the crap out of a complete stranger. your pussy starts to ache when you peer over at bakugo’s strong tattooed arms as he flung his jacket aside, rolling his white sleeves up to ensure his expensive suit doesn’t get soiled. 

“oh fuck, where are my manners? this is my lovely wife, y/n. say hi baby.” he coos at you, a switch from rough to gentle when he spoke to you. you smile and wave, the hostage sobbing out a weak greeting when bakugo demands him to. 

“anyways. what’d you do with the money, asswipe? gonna tell me or are you gonna make me fuck you up in front of my pretty wife. god, look at ‘er, ain’t she gorgeous? you know I was about 30 minutes from railing her before you had to go along and ruin our night. I should kill you right here.” bakugo turns his head towards you with a sick look in his eye. 

“whaddaya think, princess? what should I do to this motherfucker, huh?” he asks. 

“smack him again. he ruined date night.” you grumble, folding your arms. 

“he sure did, baby.” bakugo says, punching the hostage in his jaw. he gestured for his men to crowd around him, all of them taking turns kicking and beating him with metal bars. katsuki walks towards you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, a bit of blood on his knuckles as he pulled your hair. god, this whole situation was sick. but why was it so hot?

bakugo carries you away to the car, tells the driver to fuck off somewhere while he rails you in the back seat, knowing his men will take care of the rest of what he started inside the warehouse. you straddle his lap, bouncing up and down on his stiff cock as the car rocked back and forth. the car windows fog up as your body heat commingled throughout the space, your hands pressing against the glass to gain to balance as you rode his fat cock. 

“fuck, daddy. you’re so hot when you’re handling business. ooh, you’re dick’s so hard.” you purr, bakugo’s hand pinching and playing with your breast as his hips thrust upwards. He smirks at you, almost a bit shocked you got as turned on as he did from the pain he inflicted.

“hmm, I know baby. god, you’re sick. getting this wet from watching me beat up some punk. dirty fuckin’ girl.” he huffed into your hair, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck followed by harsh nibbles.

truth is even though you were so sweet and caring, you had a dark side no one knew about. I mean why else would you marry into the yakuza? 

you were both fucking insane. 

[brightymir]

"𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄" [ 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬 ]

cw: language, gore, misspellings

genre: angst

characters: main three, kirishima x gn! reader

author's note: this is inspired from squid games' marble game! it's a rain of angst until i get some request for fluff because angst is the only thing i can produce right now. i hope you like this and have a great day!

𖣔 izuku midoriya

you let out a sharp exhale, followed by a low chuckle. the circle-masked soldier then took a step back, letting you and izuku talk out how things will go on from there. 

he looked at you wide-eyed and teary. “no, no, no, it’s wrong! let’s try again, that was just a practice. hey, give us sticks again please” he tried to reason with the soldier, but to no avail. you chuckled again and held his hands, looking into his eyes.

“you won, fair and square, ‘zuku. i chose the shorter stick” you said gently and sat on the ground, tapping the space beside you. izuku held back his tears and sat down beside you. 

“three minutes left” a voice came from the speakers, making you tremble slightly and made izuku flinch. 

“remember when we went to the beach. that was a good day. you used too much force and the entire sandcastle crumbled, you almost cried” you recalled and laughed with glee, gripping his hand hard. you wanted your last moment to be filled with bliss as much as possible.

izuku sniffed at your statement. “yeah, a-and i remember you being d-driven away by the waves when you tried to t-take a photo” he added and tried to chuckle, but it came out as a sob. 

“there’s one thing i wasn’t able to do at the beach, can you do it for me instead when you get out of here?” you asked and stood up, izuku following suit. 

“of course, what is it?”

“can you see the sunset for me? it rained that day so i wasn’t able to see it up close” you continued and hugged him tightly, letting the tears fall as he hugged back for dear life. you slipped your ten marbles to his hand, making sure he had a good grip before letting go.

“one minute left” at this voice, the guards separated the two of you. the guard began to lead him away but when he was a few steps away from you, you called out his name.

“izuku!” you said, he froze but he did not turn back, you knew he was listening.

“thanks for playing with me” was all you said before a bullet went through your head, your body falling to the pavement, painting it crimson red. 

and as izuku clenched the marbles in his hand, walking out from the venue, he wondered if there was another way, for the two of you to survive and see the sunset at the beach. 

“player 015, eliminated”

𖣔 shoto todoroki

it was time for your fourth question, if shoto gets this right, he will gain a point, making it a tie, two points for you, two points for him. you wrote your answer on the paper given by the soldier. 

“alright, what pet do i have at home?” he decided to get this answer wrong, so that you will gain a point instead and survive. 

“you have a pet dog at home” he answered confidently and you gave him a small smile, turning to look at the soldier who unfolded the paper, showing the answer to the two of you. 

“DOG/PUPPY” it wrote in black ink, making shoto turn to you, wide eyed, a look of betrayal on his face. 

“this is not right! you have a pet cat at home, y/n! you are lying! she’s lying!” his appease to the soldiers fell on the deaf ears, they just shoved the piece of paper in shoto’s chest, a silent response of following whatever was written down there. he turned to you with glossy eyes, stained with tears but you looked at him indifferently, as if this game is not a matter of life or death.

for the tie breaker, it was shoto’s turn to ask the question. he did not know if he should write down a false answer or just stick with the truth because you are very unpredictable at this moment, your eyes hazy and lost.

he had an inkling that you’d go with a wrong answer, so he wrote down a false answer too. he folded it and gave it to the guard. “what’s my favorite food?” he asked softly, praying that you’ll answer wrong.

“oh, i always make this for you” his blood ran cold at your statement as he tried to fumble and stop you from speaking. you were going for the right answer. 

“cold soba” you answered, the soldier unfolded the paper. 

“SPICY FOODS” it said, making you smile. “i never knew your preferences has changed, i’m sorry for not noticing” you said and stood up, going to him and pulling him for a hug. 

he sobbed on your shoulder, muttering apologies. “who’ll make cold soba for me now, huh? your soba will always be my favorite, love” he said and pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“thanks for playing with me, sho” handing him your marbles, you said as you walked away, far from him so that the blood from your head wouldn’t splatter on him, you did not want your blood on him.

but he knew well that his blood was on your hands, especially when a voice came from the speakers.

“player 111, eliminated”

𖣔 katsuki bakugo

"thanks for playing with me" he said in a low voice, trying to hide the fear and unease he is feeling at the moment, eyes looking at anywhere but you.

“shut the fuck up, i’m trying to think of a way out of here, chihuahua. we still have seven minutes god damn” you replied which made his teeth grit in rage because of the nickname. he tries to be sappy for once then you just had to ruin it. however, you saw a glint of hope shine through his eyes for a moment. 

“w-what!? there’s a way out of this damned game?” he asked, failing to mask his curiosity and excitement. you stared at his eyes, looking for any trace of other emotions but all his eyes revealed as of the moment was hope. you snickered and played with your marbles before sighing.

“do you think so?” you asked him back with a small smile, making him stand up and lift you off the ground, shaking the hell out of you while repeatedly asking if there’s a way out of here. 

you asked him to put you down, to which he obliged shortly. with your marbles in your hands, you walked towards the triangle-masked soldier, tiptoeing to be eye level before leaning in. you heard complaints from katsuki to back off and put some distance.

“can you bring me your manager? those square guys” you asked and the soldier nodded, signaling to the circle-masked one to watch over the two of you. 

you went back beside katsuki, fixing his green uniform that has ruffled due to him crumpling it the past ten minutes. he leaned down, taking your face in his and asking you a question. 

“hey, is there a way out of here?” his voice was soft, reserved only for you and your ears. he did not want you to know but you noticed that he was at his breaking point. before you could answer, the triangle one returned with the square manager. 

“what is it?” the soldier asked, directing his attention at you. katsuki swiftly held your hand in his, not letting go. 

“we just need to get each other’s marbles, right?” you clarified. “yes” the soldier answered shortly. “we don’t need to have twenty marbles?” at your statement, katsuki finally understood your intentions. 

the three soldiers looked at each other and nodded back at you, making both you and katsuki smile in relief. reaching out both of your hands, the two of you exchanged pouches that contained the marbles. 

the two of you walked out of the venue hand in hand, katsuki muttering words of gratitude and praises to you, making you hide in the crook of his neck. 

“player 420, passed. player 421, passed”

❄︎ eijiro kirishima

"stop purposefully missing, eiji. we won't get anywhere with your antics" you reprimanded him, seeing him purposefully miss the jar where the two of you was supposed to shoot your marbles in, 5 meters away.

he looked at you innocently and smiled sheepishly. "huh? ah, no. my hand is just sweaty that's why the marbled slipped" he tried to lie, but miserably failed in doing so. you just shook your head and sighed.

each of you only had one marble left, and it was a tie. you both shot 7 marbles in the jar. in case of a tie, you two agreed to settle it by picking the failed shot marbles and shooting again until the tie is settled.

you threw your marble, and even though you purposefully wanted to miss, the marble still fell inside the jar.

turning to look ar eijiro, he had a resigned look on his face. you went up to him and cradled his face. "eiji, don't you dare miss this sho-" but before you could even finish, he already aimed and threw the marble.

not threw actually, more like dropped.

"oh, sorry. my fingers slipped again" he said, a chuckle following soon after. you hugged him tightly and sobbed in his shoulder.

"w-why... no... please don't do this eiji, i can't survive this on my own" you plead and cried harder. but all he did is run his hand through your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"love, you're strong, i believe in you, alright? you can do this" he affirmed you, swaying your body side to side as you gripped onti him for dear life, after all, he will cease to be once you do.

the two of you remained in a tight hug until the very last minute, not wanting to part. even though he did not want to break down in front of you, he wasn't so strong as to conceal his sobs and whimpers.

"shh, this is a manly way to go, y'know? to cease to be for the one i love most" he began to bid his farewells as the soldier pulled you away from him. before he totally disappeared from your sight, he called out for you.

despite the tears blurring your vision, you tried to meet his eyes, and you witnessed him smile.

"thanks for playing with me, darling" he said, before the loud gunshot resonated in the empty space, drowned out by the cries and other gunshots as well.

you decided to fight and survive, because you did not want to waste eijiro's sacrifice for you.

you made a promise to survive, as the loud sound of the speaker took over your senses.

"player 016, eliminated"

© 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐑 2021 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms. thank you.