#death and a kiss and a last desperate attempt to say all these words left unsaid

[dent-de-leon]

Mollymauk kissing Lestera and holding her in his arms when he finds her body.

Caleb kissing Mollymauk on the forehead when his ressurrection ritual fails, when he thinks all his magic and faith and love wasn't enough to save Molly. When he thinks this is his last chance to hold him in his arms again and say goodbye.

Caleb returning a forehead kiss from a lifetime ago because it's all he has left to give, because if nothing else he wants to at least offer Molly's shattered soul a bit of that comfort and warmth he once gave to him. Caleb, who Molly sees as, "softness and light," saying goodbye to Molly with a kiss the way he once did with his first partner--

[calypsocolada]

how your first kiss went with them... ft. shigaraki, aizawa, & hawks

authors note: hi hi! just finished watching season 6 of mha and got inspired. first time writing for mha characters and started with my favorite ones :) hope you all enjoy!!

cw: angst, fem! one for all weilder, slight spoilers for season 6

wc: 2.6k

click here for my masterlist

Tomura could only watch as his mind was stolen, watch his body being overtaken by a force he wasn’t strong enough to stop. All for One’s control taking over. He knew he had seconds left before he’d no longer cease to be himself. You burned with hatred beneath him, your left arm broken and useless, your right hand holding some sharp shrapnel that you’d plunged desperately into his side, your powers flickering weakly within you. He didn’t feel the pain. Your eyes flashed, his hands around your neck, squeezing. Someone was going to win here but… it wasn’t going to be him. 

He pulled you hard, the fire in your eyes licking and burning his own but he couldn’t care less. If he was going to die he was going to make one last grave mistake that might send him to the grave earlier than expected. He leaned down where you were pinned beneath him and with impressive force, smashed his lips against your own. 

The kiss was like a fight. Like all your other fights. But lips instead of fists. With breaths instead of words. With groans instead of screams and growls. His hands gripped your face hard to keep you where he wanted you. You, in a fit of confusion and pure survival instinct twisted the shrapnel in his side. He gasped in pain but that only spurred him on, his mouth cracking yours open in a feverish attempt to be as close as humanly possible. He had no indication whether or not you wanted this until the pain ceased and he felt your tongue brush against his. His breathing hitched, muddled with pain and sorrow and complete obsession. He pulled you off the ground roughly and kissed you until you both were gasping for air. When he pulled back the state he left you in was enough to satisfy him for years. Your lips were kissed pink and wet, your cheeks had a wicked blush across them as you stared at him with utter bewilderment and something else that had his stomach tangling in knots within him.

He resigned himself to death then. He was guilty as sin.

Your hand was still on the hilt of your shrapnel that was embedded in his side as you stared at each other. Breaths heavy. Tomura didn’t know how to be kind. He didn’t know how to be soft. He’d never kissed anyone before and it should’ve been pretty damn suspicious when the first person he’d ever felt the need to devour with his lips was the one standing opposite of him in this endless war. The one he needed to destroy. And to say he wanted to devour you was almost an understatement. He wanted to climb into your body and live in your ribcage, safe and tucked away. He wanted to be inside you, wanted that mind of yours to only know him, wanted those pink lips to only speak his name, those pretty eyes to only meet his. The obsession was endless. He wanted it more than ever right now. Death knocking down his rotted door. So bad that he hadn’t even noticed his own tears before they fell and hit your cheeks. You blinked a few times, slowly coming back down from the clouds. Tomura reached for you a last time, the pad of his thumb swiping his tears off your cheek. 

“Save me, hero.” He breathed out before everything went black.

~

“Again!” He called as you huffed. Aizawa was a relentless teacher. You felt your powers flicker inside your veins as you tried to control them, to harness them and use them the way they were meant to be used. But dammit, you were tired. You two had been at this for hours. You weren’t some kid he could push around and it was then, with exhaustion mingling with annoyance you shook your head defiantly. Throwing your hands down.

“I’m done!” You growled at him, tossing aside your practice weapon. Aizawa straightened.

“We’re just getting started, hero.” He mocked as you stared at him with venom. He knew all about your inherited quirk, knew there wasn’t much time for you to harness it and so he’d been pushing you to the edge for months to train you. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What should I call you then? Fraud?” He asked and that fire that you wanted to extinguish flickered in seconds, catching your inside on fire. 

“I’ll kill you!” You growled. You didn’t need that useless weapon. You outstretched your arm and black whip shot out like an extension of your grip, it wrapped around Aizawa in milliseconds as you yanked him towards you. You knew he’d use erasure and you were looking forward to it. The moment he used it it didn’t stop his moment as black whip dissolved around him, your powers canceled out only for his face to meet your fist. You hit him hard enough to rattle the brain in his skull. He hit the ground even harder and for a moment your heart leaped. He’d always said you were quick to fly off the handle and you’d just proved him right. Your hand ached, your knuckles busted. Aizawa groaned from the ground, pushing up on his forearms. You breathed out a relieved breath, thinking you had maybe killed him with that fuckery of a move. 

“That was smart.” He sighed, his upper cheek already had a bruise forming. “Why don’t you give me this energy during practice instead of making me get you angry?” He asks as you look at him hard.

“We’ve been at it for hours.” You growled angrily. “I’m tired.”

“And you don’t think I am too?” He pushed to his feet, giving you a hard look, his dark hair falling in his face. “You are a brat. You are stronger than any quirk user yet you don’t care enough to really harness those powers. You asked for this.”

“I know!” You burst out, turning pointedly away from him, dreaming of your bed, dreaming of a night without nightmares of all for one stealing your power and killing the world. You weren’t a kid but you were still young, young enough that this burden on your shoulders was crushing you. 

“You can’t run from this.” Aizawa said but he didn’t sound angry. You still didn’t turn to face him. “You think you’re all alone?”

“Of course I’m alone! It’s just like you said, I’m the strongest.”

“Everyone needs a hand. Even All-Might.” Aizawa said. You turned on him, eyes sharp. 

“All-Might defeated All for one on his own. There’s not a soul that could stand beside me and not be killed.”

“I’ve stood beside you this whole time. I’ve trained you. You think I’ll just let you go at it alone after everything we’ve been through?” Aizawa asked as the look in your eyes hardened.

“I won’t let you.” You said in a low, intimidating voice. Aizawa’s lips parted slightly. “All for one will not get a shot at you. I’ll die before that happens.”

“You’re stubborn but not as stubborn as me.” Aizawa returns, taking a step towards you. “I’m with you till the end.”

“Did you not hear a word I-” Aizawa leaned into your space, hand sliding over your cheek as his lips cut off your sentence. You almost pulled back but he stepped closer to you, one hand on your face the other sliding around you and resting on the dip of your back. You pushed him back forcefully, your breath shaky as you stared at him. 

“Forgive me… I-” You grabbed him roughly by his shirt, slamming your lips against his. He grunted against your lips in surprise, hands barely ghosting over your hips. You kissed him unforgivingly hard. This was a sort of ultimate payback in a small way, of all the hours he overworked you. You pushed him back on the training mat and slid atop him. This was a form of practice, right? A workout that wouldn’t exhaust you… or would it? If he thought for a moment you’d let him help you now he was sorely mistaken. But on the other side of the coin, if you thought for a moment he wouldn’t die for you, you were sorely mistaken as well. Rock meets hard place.

~

“Idiot.” You growled beside his hospital bed. Hawks looked peaceful and you wanted nothing more than to shake him awake and smack some sense into him. But he was still healing so your assault of slaps and punches would have to wait. You huffed. Leaning back in your chair, flipping through the channels on the tv. It wasn’t long before your mind wandered to the same thing you’d been thinking about for days.

Hawks almost dying for you. Hawks pushing you aside before you were impaled with Shigaraki’s power. Having to watch Hawks get impaled, having his eyes meet yours and a stupid soft and beautiful smile on his face as he mumbled something you didn’t even get to hear. You tried remembering again, tried focusing on his lips in your memories but it was of no use. You huffed, unable to relax as you turned back to look at him. The number two hero. You stare at him, your eyes drifting to those lips. You willed him to say those words again and when his eyes opened you didn’t even notice.

“Watching me sleep? How romantic.” He said, his voice gruff from being unused for days. You jumped at not only the sound of his voice but being caught staring at his lips.

“I wasn’t. I was trying to kill you with my mind.” You grumbled protectively, eyes snapping up to meet him. The way he looked at you was the most dangerous thing you’d see in a while. The pure adoration in his eyes, the smile that formed on his lips at your joke. It twisted at your insides.

“Are you alright?” He asked because the last thing he remembered in the fight was you hurt and in trouble. You tensed.

“You're the one in a hospital bed.” You growled. Hawks seemed to just notice this fact, he was utterly distracted by the fact that you’d been sitting at his bedside. He reached for your hand but you pulled away and stood to your feet.

“Y/n-”

“I told you not to get involved.” You growled. “I had it under control but you had to go and try to play the hero.”

“I am a hero.” Hawks said, something in his eyes that angered you more.

“Not to me. I don’t need your sacrifice. If you wanna get yourself killed, do it for someone else.” You hissed. He looked at you. You hoped your venomous words would have some effect on him. You wanted him to be angry. Wanted him to hate you. To look at you with harsh eyes but his expression didn’t change.

“Such venom.” He said with a smirk. If you didn’t have some modicum of control over your powers and anger this whole hospital would’ve been brought down. “Are you trying to push me away again?”

“What?” You huffed.

“You heard me, number one. I know what you’re doing but it’s not gonna work.”

“And what am I doing?”

“What you do to everybody you start to care about. You lash out at them so they’re not tempted to stay by your side when things go sideways.” 

“I-- I don’t do that.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Hawks admonished with a shake of his head. You take in a deep breath, tensing your jaw. “Growl all you want, I’m not getting scared away.”

“You’re crazy. You almost died, this isn’t some fucking joke.”

“I knew I’d be fine. Knew you’d carry me off the battlefield.” He croons, you stare at him hard.

“How could you have known?”

“I’m an optimistic guy.” He smiles. You roll your eyes, turning to leave. He catches your wrist just as you reach for the handle.

“What-? You need to stay in bed, idiot.” You growl as Hawks holds your wrist gently in one hand, the other on his bandaged torso.

“I’ll get back in bed if you stay.”

“Are you serious?” You growl as he nods his head.

“Deadly serious.”

“You’re a child.” You sigh. 

“Stay. Don’t run away from me.” He says and the seriousness in his voice has your stomach flipping. You pull out of his touch.

“Get in bed.” You direct and his eyes look down into yours, a challenge.

“Make me.” He says. Your eye twitches as you waste zero time pushing this idiot back towards his bed. Once the backs of his knees hit the mattress he pulls a move on you and you’re pulled on top of him. You two tumble onto the hospital bed. Your heart lurches dangerously into your throat, feeling the warmth of his hands ghosting your hips. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hush.” He says, hands sliding up to either side of your face as he pulls you down so that your lips meet. The shock of his cold lips against yours was like a rush to your system. An overloading and overheating shock. You gasped at the ache of want that tore through you. That had always been lurking beneath every tense moment with Hawks. Him training you. You two on missions. Reluctant breakfast, lunch, and dinners with him. He wormed his way into your heart and you hated it. Anyone close to you was surely going to be killed and that dangerous hope in your chest that built when he was around should’ve raised flags for you. But you let him in. You selfish creature. You pushed him back, and moved shakily to your feet. Hawks reached for you again and you caught his wrist, twisting it. He flinched in pain, staring at you with confusion and hurt.

“Don’t touch me again.” You growled. You needed space from him, your head swimming, your eyes traitorously drifting to the lips that had just been against yours.

“What's wrong?” Hawks asked. You stepped back, narrowing your eyes.

“You never listen. You-- you’re always trying to confuse me and sneak your way into my-- you need to leave me alone.”

“No.”

“N-No?” You asked as Hawks barely raised his brows, nodding his head. His blond hair falling against his forehead. He looked so annoyingly beautiful you wanted to hit him. 

“I don’t just sacrifice my life for anybody.” He says as he stands, wincing in pain.

“Just stay in the damn bed-” He pulled you to him, inches taller than you, eyes unwaveringly serious as he spoke his next sentence.

“I love you.” He said and the words had your eyes widening, a soft gasp escaping your lips. He clearly loved that he caught you off guard. “You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know what I said.” 

“What you said?” You echo, unable to properly digest this moment. 

“When I saved you. I said I loved you.” The words his lips spoke that you’d been driven up a wall trying to remember. If he died you would’ve never known.

“I hate you.”

“Close enough.” He grins, leaning and pressing his lips gently to yours. You didn’t push him off, you didn’t have the strength, something selfish was taking over and you didn’t have the will power to fight it. You’d played it safe for years. Not letting anyone get close. But… you failed. You kissed Hawks back with twice the passion, pushing him back on the bed, caging him beneath you. If he was going to love you you were going to let him. Damned selfishness…

[desideriumwriter]

Closest To Heaven

Summary: After years of shoving down your feelings your Fred, believing he'd never felt the same as you did, a loss and a letter tells you otherwise. (based off this request!)

cw: mentions of blood, injuries, explosions, dying, canon character death

a/n: the beginning is a bit sloppy and rushed but bare with me i promise you it gets better and dramatic

wc: 2.7k | f.w. masterlist | navi

Fred and you had always had a tight bond. Everybody knew, you were almost with him as much as he was with George. 

Lately it had been more of just Fred and you together. Rather than Fred, George, and you.

The more and more you hung out with Fred alone, the more you begin to feel differently for him. A good different, a better different.

Every time he would touch you, even if it was a playful shove, your skin felt all tingly. His silly teases or funny comments towards you didn’t feel like joking anymore, there was more of a flirty tone to them.

Godric, you were falling in love with him. It was cliché, falling in love with your bestfriend. The problem was you really couldn’t tell if Fred had any true interest in you. It was hard to tell if he was actually joking or actually flirting with you a lot of the time.

You were unprepared for what would happen if you did confess to Fred, and he didn’t feel the same.

So, you shoved those feelings down. It worked for a while. You would get those occasional butterflies in your stomach when Fred would look at you, but you did your best to ignore them.

Until you saw Fred and Angelina walking hand and hand through the clock tower courtyard. 

Then it came back. That feeling in your stomach again. 

Not fluttering butterflies, but a painfully tight knot.

Angelina was a gorgeous girl. Pretty personality and pretty face. Pretty everything. She was courageous, strong as hell, fiery, and well put together. Who wouldn’t fall in love with her? 

You didn’t feel envious or jealous of her. Not in any angry or resentful way. 

But sometimes you did wish it was your waist that Fred had his arms wrapped around at the Yule Ball. That it’d be you would get a kiss pecked on your cheek before Fred left the room. You who would give him good-luck-kisses before he’d walk on the field first. That it’d your head resting on his shoulder, asleep on his body. That it’d be your fingers intertwined with his during weekend trips to Hogsmeade or even down the hallways of the castle.

You wished that it’d be you. It’d be you.

It made you sick sometimes. But, Fred moved on. You should too.

And you did, you found eyes for others. Desperately trying to find someone who wasn’t him. You were able to get a few successful relationships, at least for a little while. They never lasted very long. 

Later on you found out Fred and Angelina had split. You decided not to pry, but it was mostly likely because of Fred and George abandoning Hogwarts and making a grand exit out of school in year six.

Throughout the years, you kept in touch. Somewhat. Occasionally you both would send owls to each other. Little notes and sometimes Fred and George would send a small gift, usually sweets.

On even rarer occasions you’d pop up to their store.

He’d always let you leave with a free product of your choosing or his persuasion, always trying to lure you into getting something by saying things like:

“This ones a top seller.”

“Customer favorite!’

“This can come in handy when you least expect it.”

You always tried to have a comeback, a refusal to his words, yet he’d always have one in response.

“Hey, you might need it one day!” 

“I’ll need to have a nosebleed one day?” You raised your eyebrows, an amused look on your face as you stared at the nougat in your hand.

“Get out of boring meetings.” He shrugged.

Though you always refuted and attempted to pay. Shoving galleons in his pocket when he wasn’t looking, yet every time you left the money somehow made it back in your purse. You forgot how damn good he was at charms.

Though it would be long periods of time, months, years, since you’d seen each other face to face. There was no tension, no awkward air between you. You both talked and joked the same way you did when you saw each other everyday at Hogwarts.

School honestly felt like a past life every time you saw him.

Now you were back at that castle. Leaning against a fallen over wall with him in the now destroyed courtyard, both a bit bruised and exhausted. Trying to get a moment of relaxation after a long few days of preparing and protecting the castle while fighting other dark wizards.

Everything felt sickening. You stared around the area around you. No longer covered in green grass and healthy plants in pots. Now full of smashed pillars, torn and burnt bushes, cracked concrete.

“You alright?” Fred's voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, just thinking.”

“Me too.” He nudged your elbow playfully, of course, in the middle of a battle he could still try and joke through it.

“This was the last place we spoke, before you flew out of here.” You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, trying not to show your hurt due to the memory.

“You’re sure about this? You’re both gonna really go through with it? Leaving?“ You said, pulling your knees up to your chest as you sat together on the cold bench.

“Yeah, tomorrow. You sound disappointed.”

“I’m just worried.” You sighed.

“About?”

“You leaving here and things accidentally going wrong.” You fiddled with your tie.

“Nothings gonna go wrong. We’ve got more than enough to set up our shop, we already have a place claimed for it.” He sounded slightly defensive.

“I just don’t want you to end up regretting this.” You gave him a sympathetic look, he gave you an offended one.

“We’ve been saving up for years. Every bit of money I’ve gotten has gone directly into this. This is all I’ve wanted for years. I’m going to have it and I’m going to be happy with it.” His tone got a bit harsh. “I don’t need some rubbish certificate to get to where I want to be.”

“I know, I know.” You brought your legs down, feet touching the grass. “I’m really gonna miss you.” Your mouth was moving faster than your brain, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“I’m really gonna miss you too.” He looked over at you, putting a hand over yours, fingers wrapping around your hand for comfort. You weren’t if he was doing it for his or your comfort. “I’ll send you letters and I’ll tell you all about the process, alright? I’m not gonna become a ghost to you.” He squeezed, you both smiled at the ground.

Before you went back to your dorms, he pulled you into a tight hug.

“You be good, Weasley. Don’t be stupid.” You let out a weak laugh.

“It’s my brand.” He said as he pulled away. “You be smart.” 

“Yeah. It’s been so long.” He leaned his head back against the wall. “I think getting out of here was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.” You tried to ignore how that sentence felt like a stab in the gut, so desperately wanting to ask; Was leaving me here a good decision?

“Did you ever miss it here?” You looked over at him, 

“A little bit. I missed the people. I missed you.” Fred felt a bit shy saying that, yet you were in the middle of chaos, anything could happen to either of you. Better to get the truth out now than never. “Sometimes I think about what would’ve happened if I stayed.”

“The same outcome most likely, you’d just have to wait another year. But, I would’ve left early if I could’ve as well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sixth year was hell. Especially with Umbridge running the place for that moment.” You looked at the back of your hand, still able to see the faded letters from her punishments scarred in.

Fred put his hand over yours, this time your fingers intertwined with each other rather than wrapping around both your palms. With his other hand, he pulled something out of his coat pocket.

“Um, I want you to have this.” He cleared his throat as he handed you a folded piece of paper. You took it hesitantly, fingers brushing over his, you began to open it but he stopped you. “Don’t. Open it afterwards, all of…this. It’s in case anything happens to me.”

He couldn’t ignore the way your face faltered.

“It’s just for if this will be our last time together.”

“Fred…” Your voice was solemn, almost sounding disappointed. “Come on, don’t talk like that.” Your thumbs fiddling with the paper.

“I just don't have a good feeling about this.” He murmured.

“I don’t think anybody does.” You let out a terribly weak scoff. “We’re in the middle of a literal fucking war, Fred.” You looked around, raised your arms and let them fall to your sides.

“Yeah. But you know what I mean.” He breathed in. You did know what he meant, but you wouldn’t let him know that either.

“Fine. I hope you know you’ll be getting this back though.” You pointed the letter at him, letting out a breathy laugh through your nose and you put the note in your pocket. You both whipped

your heads up once you heard the bells, the secret warning sign everyone agreed on. The one that told you to get to your spots.

As the both of you stood and Fred turned away, you grabbed him onto his hand and pulled him into a hug.

“You be good Weasley.” You spoke softly, hoping that he couldn’t hear the wavering in it and your voice was slightly muffled due to burying your face in his chest. 

It felt different compared to any other embrace you ever had. Those few seconds felt so long, and in those seconds, even in the midst of a battle, you felt the safest you’ve ever been.

“You be safe.” He said sweetly, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head before pulling away. 

You gave him a smile, trying not to wince at how you accidentally broke open the cut on your lip that you sustained earlier. His mouth opened a tiny bit to say something else, instead he closed it, smiling and nodding at you back.

You both left the open area, returning to your spots and both trying to ignore the dread that filled your stomachs.

By the time the sky was pitch black and littered with stars, thats when you heard the explosion, just feet away from you. The force was enough to cause you to stumble but still stay on your feet.

Immediately a long and dark haired man shoved past you, running away as you saw a lanky and tall boy following suit.

Percy?

Percy was already chasing after Rookwood by the time most of the smoke and debris had cleared from the air. Words you’d never expected to come out that proper boys mouth were being shouted.

You turned to the spot behind you that had been blown up, bits of stone and cement shattered everywhere, piles on it. You felt your heart stop as you saw a familiar pair of legs laying over one of the piles.

Running over and your feet coming to a screeching halt as you stood over Freds body, the movement of his chest gave you a tiny bit of relief, but the small bits of blood seeping out the side of his mouth took it all away. 

You dropped to your knees, sweeping the dirt and stone off his chest. His eyes fluttered open and he looked at you, brows faintly knit together as he tried to lift up his head, failing.

He rasped out your name, you gave him a pained smile. 

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay.” You shushed him, he coughed a bit. “It’s alright, I’ll get you help okay? You’re gonna be fine.” You tried your best to blink away the glaze forming in your eyes.

As you wiped the blood off his mouth he brought up a weak, bloodied hand from the rubble. Pulling out the note from your front pocket and pushing it into your chest.

“No, no. You’re getting this back. Nothings gonna happen to you, you’re getting this back.” You tried to convince him, yourself too.

Though he couldn't get any clear words out, his voice was soft, and he smiled. He grabbed your other hand and placed it over the note, you held onto it. His breaths became more raspy and his face went pale. You knew what was happening and you didn’t want to.

That bad feeling Fred had about all this, it was happening. You couldn’t stop it.

“No, no, no.” You whispered hoarsely, “Don’t you dare fucking do this to me.” You sobbed as you continued to wipe the dirt off his face, he just smiled at you with red stained teeth, wiping a tear from your cheek with a weak hand.

A broken plea left your throat.

You could feel his soul begin to drift away from you at that moment. You couldn’t do anything about it. You stroked his face and watched the spark from his eyes go dull, the raspy breaths came to a stop and so did his entire body. He was gone. It was all over.

The letter Fred gave wasn’t opened for a while after that evening in May. It laid on the top of your dresser for months, collecting dust, untouched and taunting you.

Your name written nicely on the top of it, next to the smears of his blood from his hands made it feel like every time you stared at it, you were staring into the burning sun. 

Around the time the leaves outside began to change color, falling from the trees, and a cold wind hit you every time you went outside. That’s when you made your decision to finally open it.

As you sat on your bed, holding the folded parchment in your hands, still absolutely not prepared in any way to open what's in your hands. Yet you unfolded it, a long neatly written letter in front of your eyes, the first word being your name. The first sentence eliciting a sad laugh out of you.

I hope you aren’t pissed at me for dying, I was trying my best not to today. Or that day, I don’t expect you to open this for a while. I know you well. I hope you’re doing well. And I just hope you don’t hold a grudge against me for that, or this letter.

I’m a proper asshole for telling you this now that I’m not here. I’m not sure if you have someone or are seeing someone currently, if you are this would make it worse.

Anyways, the whole reason I’m writing you this is because you were what I wanted for so long, for years. I know you didn’t have much interest in me in the first place. That’s why I never told you, I didn’t want to know what would happen if you had to reject me. I don’t know what I’d do if you did.

I tried my best to move on, I tried my best to shove those feelings away. I never could. I saw you go onto being with other people. I knew I had no chance. Every time I’ve sent you a letter, every time you showed up at the shop, I had to refrain from spilling this secret to you. My silly secret that I’ve kept locked since school.

Now that things turned out strange, and not as good as we hoped in some ways. I just needed you to know this. That I loved you. I love you.

I know I’ve sprung a lot on you. I do apologize. I didn’t want any of this to happen. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’m hoping you weren’t there when I went. And if you did, I’m sorry again. But hey, at least I’ll be happy knowing one of my last moments was spent with you. Maybe I'll be more accepting of death because of that.

I went knowing I loved you. I went out happily. 

                             Forever Fred.

Your hands began to shake a bit without you even realizing, causing the paper to crumple under your fingers.

You could’ve had what you wanted for so long. That yearning to be with him could’ve ended so long ago if you had just bucked up the courage to tell him. If you didn’t assume he was the one with a disinterest in you.

Now, you’ll be searching for his warmth in everyone that isn’t him once again.

tell me what you thought! <3

ty 🐍 anon for the request i luv u

[carmesi-butterfly]

kiss me and bite me

vampire nishimura riki + female human reader. word count 1,8k. vampire au/fantasy au. warnings mention of illness and death. not proofread.

"Riki..." you murmured, the hard breathing leaving your mouth was accompanied by the soft wind, both sounds making a pleasing melody for the youthful boy, who was enchanted by you.

"Hm? What?" responded, leaving the panorama of the clear sky to look at you with curiosity, only to stumble upon your eyes shedding a few tears. "Are you okay? Why are you crying?" his body moved fast, leaving his spot where his figure lay down on the grass to reach near your body, now your faces were just a few centimeters distant from each and the closeness between your forms created a more comforting aura, appropriate for the two young lovers.

A few more tears left your eyes before you could reply, "I'm afraid of what's going to happen in the future…" your words unleashed an unstoppable sobbing by your side, leaving your lover confused for a second. After a few sobs, you took a deep breath, in an attempt to clear your throat and mind, the words stood clear in your heart searching for being released. "I'm not recovering, Riki, I'm just getting worse" you cried, "the doctor visited me yesterday… he did not tell me anything but I spied on him talking with my parents, my health is just declining and it would be a miracle for me to last long from now on" you broke the news for the boy who seemed impacted by your words.

"What are you saying…" The boy broke the silence, filled with confusion and anguish.

"I'm losing my strength, I'm tired. Soon I won't be able to get out of bed, I will lose my senses, and probably it won't take much for me to be completely worthless" Your clarifications developed more than an ache in his heart, it felt like being stabbed on the chest over and over again.

If being a vampire implied that things as such strong emotions could not be felt, why did his soul hurt this much? He felt like dying, perhaps the sin of love could kill an immortal spirit.

His body distanced from yours, not simply cutting all physical contact but also creating more distance between the two of you, getting up on his feet and looking at you from above with an indecipherable gaze.

"No… Are you going to give up this easily?!" his words hurt, from the bottom to the top of you being you were also hurting, and even though you cried incessantly, Riki didn't notice.

"I'm dying! What do you want me to do?!" your voice reciprocated his, increasing itself trying to show all the feelings it holds. "You would never understand it, because you can't die!" your body followed him, standing up from the grass to confront the situation, "you don't conceive the idea of death, because it's not something meant for you to experiment. You will never pass through the illness, your friends or family will never die, and you will never understand what is to perish in this agony" The discussion escalated quickly, reaching its end at the same peace. The things you said defined the end of this senseless conversation and for Nishimura Riki, your words didn't feel like stabs anymore, the heartache remained and his feelings got hurt, but this was the reality hit he needed.

"I know I'm being selfish…" As an abrupt act, he got on his knees desperately hugging your legs and clinging to the end of your dress, holding as if his endless life depended on it. "But I don't want you to die, please, let me help you… I c-can turn you into a vampire" Big tears ran away from his eyes, and the sobs impeded the words from coming out properly, "I know you don't want this, but please, please… I can't live without you…" you could notice a ramble was coming, about all the reasons you had to accept the proposal and how it would benefit all of you.

"How would you do that?..." your weak whisper could be hardly heard by your lover, whose ears were plagued by his cry.

The question made his body react, his head raised leaving its spot on your legs. "I can turn you into a vampire, I just need to bite you, we can do it right now if you want!" Riki rapidly got up, his hands holding your shoulders excited.

"But… What am I going to tell my parents?" The idea of becoming a vampire crossed your mind more than twice, all these thoughts generated by the presence of the youthful Nishimura who appeared in your life unexpectedly and changed the perspective of your life as a normal person in a small town.

"U-uhm… They don't have to know" he said, without giving it a second thought.

"Yes, it's a good idea because they are not going to notice that I'm not dying anymore, furthermore that I'm not getting old" Your sarcastic reply got him out of the fantasy cloud he had the opportunity to stay in for a few seconds.

"You're right, then… I will tell them! No parent wants to lose their daughter, and even if they are against the idea, we can run away together" Both pairs of hands connected, intertwining their fingers looking for more contact. "I have my family and my friends to help us! Jungwon was converted by Jay, it's secure to ask them about it"

The course of the actions being so sudden didn't help your already blurred mind, your disease has been part of you and your current life for most of it, always having hope about successfully evading the so-frightening called death, and the show up of your couple finished wrecking what lasted of your sanity. How could life be so cruel? Assembling two opposite individuals to fall into something so deep as love, the first one; was a vampire, a fortunate specimen blessed by nature, who didn't have to worry about the expected loss of life. And the second one; a poor human, the dangers of the surroundings being enough for such a weak personage.

Between your relationship was a line, an invisible border that could only be crossed by the weakest one and possibly now was about to fade.

"I don't want to die" Your lips dropped, maintaining that low tone you used before, full of fear and worry, "Let's do it, Riki"

And then, under the shadow of a big weeping willow, the connection between both bodies becomes stronger, your lips fused in an act of pure love after a few minutes of discussion that felt like an eternity.

When the sun went down and the secretive night welcomed everything that reached its perimeter, the figure of your loved one could be seen from your window, stealthily letting himself into your room.

"Psst, hey y/n, wake up" With light footsteps, he moved closer to your bed, where you lay comfortably while sleeping.

"Hm?" Your eyes opened slowly, trying to adapt to the nonexistent light in the space, "Riki? What are you doing here?" asked while changing your position, taking a seat on the mattress and patting softly on your side inviting him to do the same.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait anymore" Imitating your action he got comfortable on your side, talking with the lowest tone he could manage to, "I spoke with my mom about this, she was a little… concerned? But in the end, she permitted me to do it" said with his characteristic big smile. "I also talked with Jay and Jungwon, the conversion should be something easy, just a bite"

"Okay, we should do it now then?", you offered, "Mom and Dad, they… we can tell them later" Searching for contact in this moment of nerves, your hands reached his. His head nodded in response, "But wait!" your voice raised, luckily not enough to be noticeable by the other people in the house, "First, kiss me"

"Why? Do you need me that much?" The boy asked playfully, teasing you up a little bit.

"I want comfort, I'm about to be bitten you know? What if this turns out wrong and we can't kiss anymore? Of course, kissing is not the only problem, what if I die? Or end up defective? I may be immune-" a verbal vomit built by anxiety came out of your mouth, only being stopped by your boyfriend, who placed a peck on your lips.

"You don't have to worry, I'm not an idiot to do it wrong," said, with a jolly smirk and a bit of an "arrogant" manner, nothing new to see on the young Nishimura.

"Okay, let's do it…" With that the conversation ended and the so-called conversion ritual began.

Riki didn't want to bite your neck, not simply for being a pretty visible zone but also because he did not want to inflict you more pain than the one you're already passing through, evidently, something like sinking his teeth into her lover's skin wouldn't be painless, but if he can avoid generating her additional pain than the needed, that's okay. Your arm was grabbed so softly and delicately, the tact being so gentle that you could feel like he was holding a porcelain doll, both hands pressed smoothly in your extremity, finding the perfect spot.

"Should I count to three? Maybe it will help" suggested by pure courtesy, his body positioned and mouth near your upper limb waiting for you to give the green light.

"Please," you responded, accompanied by a few scared nods.

"One, tw-" and then, completely omitting the countdown he suggested, sank his fangs into your left arm, drilling your skin and releasing the poison.

You barely had any time to react to the puncturing pain of two deep needles piercing your skin, it hurt so much that you felt like you were burning, groans departing your mouth, such was the case that utilizing your free hand you had to seal your lips, and then, a huge wave slam your senses, sharpening every one of them; your ears? Possessed by an incessant whistle; your tact? It was overwhelming, even the slightest fold in your clothing could be felt; and probably the most shocking one, your vision; nothing could escape your new falcon view, small details on your walls that you hadn't noticed after years of living there were now extraordinarily detailed, the presence of tiny bugs hosting on the corners of your room is now detected, everything felt clearer.

By the time he was done, you had fallen into a trance, the venom running through your veins made your body temperature increase, and an unpleasant sensation spread to your teeth focusing on the fangs, implicating that the transformation already started and soon your hunger would awaken, and as an act of love between two vampires, he could ask you to kiss and bite him.

[honeycoves]

01

Even in death, you haunted Tsukishima Kei. Haunted by the sweet echoes of your laughter lingering in the crevices of the small apartment. Your cheerful greetings, soft kisses, gentle footsteps. All replaced by a still silence – a reminder of your absence. He remembers everything, too well. The way you left the apartment three weeks ago in tears, only to come back the following day to pack all your things and leave once again but instead with a pained smile and teary eyes. And then two weeks later he would get the worst phone call of his life. Now he lies across his bed that he used to share with you, clutching onto the last letter you will ever write to him. 

“Let’s break up.”

You had just returned to your shared apartment after a late session in the lab when you heard the heavy words. Not only were you exhausted from the extensive hours that you were stuck inside the laboratory today but as a matter of fact, for the past week you had to deal with the unexpected return of your deadbeat father in your life and you had kept Tsukushima in the dark about it. He was already so exhausted, just like you with work, school and volleyball – it would be unfair to dump another problem that was not his on him. So when you heard Tsukishima’s words, you could not help but let out a small laugh. “What?” 

You look at him, your eyes desperately searching for his but with every given chance he fails to meet your gaze. Instead, he turns his face away and runs his hand over his tired face. “It’s not working [name]. 

“Kei–”

“Was I not clear enough? Do you need me to say it again?” 

You hold up your hand and shake your head. “No. I-I understood very clearly but can we talk about this first, Kei? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me these past few weeks?” 

He lets out a breath as he takes off his glasses and pinches the spot where his glasses were resting. The same spot you had gently kissed him this morning before you left for work. “There’s nothing to talk about. We both knew it wasn’t going to last.”

“Have you found someone else? Is that it? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me for the past few weeks?”

He smiles somberly, a painful look flickers across his gaze yet he still cannot meet your eyes. His hesitation, his silence was a horrible realisation for you. You already knew the answer from the silence yet some part of you desperately wanted his words to ease the pain, to dispel this awful realisation you had concluded. “I,” he begins, slipping his glasses back on his face. “I just don’t love you anymore.” 

You stare at Tsukishima in the suffocating silence. Your lips tremble as you try and find the words to fill this excruciating silence but nothing is to be said nor heard. You turn away and your eyes are now looking at the polished wooden floorboard. The tears descend down your face and gently kiss the floorboard. 

Tsukishima watches tears running down your face. He doesn’t attempt to walk around the kitchen island to console you. He just stands there, his teary eyes hiding behind his black-rimmed glasses 

If truth be told, deep down, you knew that this was coming because nothing good ever lasts. This is a very old story, a story where you both knew the ending. A story where one of you has to leave first. But this cruel reality was something you had paid no mind to, a reality that you ignored because it was a reality that you never thought would ever occur. And now you are standing here with tears in your eyes, looking at the man you love so deeply, falling out of love with you.

Then you see him moving towards you. You want to hold out your hand and stop him, you want to push him away but you’re paralysed. Every muscle, every inch of you is paralysed and you're stuck with your hands beside you. 

His rough calloused hands cup your soft cheeks as he wipes the tears running down your face with his thumb. Gently, he holds your face up to him, guiding you to look at him. It is then you see his tears behind his eyes – you see the sadness and the pain. “You go to the Netherlands and chase your dreams, OK? Go to Amsteradm. Go see the art, go to all the cafes, ride your bike around, go enjoy the winter. Forget about me. Forget about us. You go live your own life.” I won’t hold you back anymore 

You look at him, wide-eyed with tears running down your face. A lump forms in your throat. It was a dream you had once told him about, your childish and ignorant dream of dropping everything and moving to Amsterdam – the city where your parents had met and fell in love.

It was a stifling summer day when you told him about this dream. Both only 17 — kids with big dreams, who knew nothing about this big world. Fingers shyly grazing each other as you walk side by side. 

You let out a groan as you tilted your head back, bringing your arms to shield the scorching sun. “I hate summer. Why is it so hot? I hate it here.” 

The boy next to you glowers at you. “Tch.”

“Y’know what? I’m going to move to Amsterdam.” You announce confidently.

“Amsterdam?” 

“Mm. That’s where my parents met.” You pause and look down at the ground. “It’s suffocating, Kei. I hate it here.”

He chose to remain silent, letting your words sink in. He knew exactly what you had meant. Even though you talked far more than he did your words had alway held great sincerity and weight to it. When you had turned to look at him, your eyes holding expectancy Tsukishima still remained silent. He knew you wanted a response, a reassurance, a snide comment, anything but he kept his silence. It was selfish and rather childish of him, Tsukishima knew, of course, but he was scared. His fear of losing you restrained his voice. He didn’t want to lose you. 

The truth is, some dreams come and go. Some become broken, some become lost, some tether in between, just like your dream of moving to Amsterdam. Yes, it was and had been your dream to move to Amsterdam for the longest time you could remember but now you are not so sure of this stubborn dream of yours. 

He lets out a soft sigh. “I saw it. I saw your letter.” But what he failed to mention was the rest of his story. That he had bumped into that old childhood friend you grew up with, the friend who knew you so much better than he did, the friend who shared the same hopeful dream as you, the friend who was always lingering behind you two. They had told Tsukishima your "plans" on moving to the Netherlands with them as both of you had gotten an offer to study at a university there. Those words had shattered Tsukishima and his world had fallen apart just like that. His dreams, his future he envisioned with you shattered by a few words from your childhood friend. 

“Kei, let me explain—”

“I know sometimes I was difficult to be with and difficult to handle and I’m sorry. But let’s end it here. Let’s end it. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I don’t want to stress you out nor do I want to exhaust you any longer. 

His hands fall from your face and he turns and leaves the kitchen without another word and you can only stand there and watch. A string of memories comes forth. It’s been festering in the depths of your mind for some time but now it rushes out — the floodgates have opened. Everything clicks in place. 

“Does she make you happy?” 

He stops in his tracks, turns around. His eyebrows furrow, “Who? Who are you talking about?” 

“Does she make you happy?” Your voice comes out bitter and you cringe at your childish petulant tone but you need to know the answer. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. “[name], there is nothing between me and –”

“OK. I’ll go. I’ll go my own way.” You’re smiling at him despite the tears and the pain. You swallow the sob that writhes in your throat. You are determined to finish what you have to say before you choke on your own sobs. “I’ll go to Amsterdam.”

Tsukishima looks at you now. This time he really looks at you and you see his eyes once again. You see the tears he’s fighting back but you see more than just that. You see the absence of the light that used to burn so brightly in his eyes, the love and passion every time he looked at you — was now replaced with a dull ember. A dying star in the distant galaxy. 

When did he start looking like this? You ask yourself as the tears run down your face. When did I become so cruel? I held onto him and thought it was love when all this time I was killing his light?

You look away and choke back on the sob gnawing at your throat. The silence that lapses clings to the empty spaces of your apartment. Your breathing is shaky and your heartbeat becomes a painful and heavy pound against your chest. Yet you’re still fighting for the words to come out, you’re still fighting for the courage, the courage to let him go. “You were part of that dream,” you gulp. “I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you Kei.” You turn back around, your gaze back on him as you slowly find the strength in your voice. “Together in Amsterdam. I’m sorry for not letting you go. I wish you nothing but happiness.”

Your departure would be a reminder of his cowardness and cruelty, a memory that would taunt him for as long as he breathes. He’ll never see you again. You were gone forever. Tskushima Kei could do nothing to bring you back. 

[foolsunz]

Ok i know this is supposed to be soft, but i know we were all thinking the same.

https://x.com/renjeonah/status/1720488105470521451?s=46

Overstimulating Renjun giving him oral.

That’s it thank you.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ♡

— content warnings: sub!renjun, overstimulation, pet names, oral (m receiving), slight mommy kink, dumbification, praise and degradation. word count: 3,7K.

a/n: i have nothing to say except sub renjun >>>>

renjun can only whine your name when you continue sucking his leaking cock even though he already came.

his marked chest moves up and down dramatically, tears streaming down his pretty face as he struggles to catch his breath.

god, you love seeing him like this. utterly wrecked and fucked out, whining stupidly like the crybaby he is.

he moans pathetically, “please… ‘s too much.”

pushing yourself further down, you swallow him whole as renjun’s loud gasps fill the room.

you moan around him, the noises escaping him shooting straight to your core. tears begin forming in your eyes and you gag, but you don’t stop your ministrations— instead your hand slips down to fondle his balls.

your hums vibrate on his length, making him gasp. it’s not long before he starts babbling out your name.

“shit, fuck babe, ’m not gonna last long.” he croaks out, voice almost gone.

his length twitches in your mouth from overstimulation as if begging for mercy or forgiveness. it only encourages you to suck him harder, gurgling messily around him, making sinful, wet sounds.

and when you look up at him through your mascara covered lashes, dark trails on your flushed cheeks and your mouth stuffed full with dick as you take all of him, his entire face contorts in pleasure.

he feels the knot in his stomach so close to snapping, a clear sign he’s embarrassingly close once more. his death grip on your sheets tightens, knuckles turning white with the pressure. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

renjun’s mouth parts in bliss, his hips thrusting wildly against your face as his orgasm crashes over him.

his cock throbs and twitches as he shakes slightly underneath you. he can’t even form a proper sentence, let alone a coherent thought.

you release his cock with a lewd pop, “you’re so stupid for me. fuck, you can’t even speak.”

he falls apart underneath you as you nonchalantly place soft, open mouthed kisses on his body— marking him further.

you’re so mean— and he loves it.

“can you cum one more time for me, baby?”

he shakes his head and you can’t help but chuckle at his pathetic state. you watch as his thighs tremble with each touch you give, feeling him pulse from the overstimulation of it all.

that’s when you find yourself pitying the poor boy as he pouts cutely, an arm thrown over his eyes in clear embarrassment. fuck, he looks so cute like this.

“pretty,” you mumble, pressing a kiss on his slit. “so, so pretty…”

a strained gasp leaves his lips when you start rubbing your thumb against that same sweet spot on his tip, making him shiver erratically.

“c’mon baby, just one more time for mommy, yeah?”

he pleads silently through moans and stutters, bucking his hips up, even whining ‘can’t’ in a desperate attempt. at this point, renjun can’t seem to figure out if he’s chasing the pleasure, or actively running from it.

he’s that far gone.

“love seeing you like this,” you tell him, smirking as you place a few kisses on his throbbing cock. “you’re such a cute mess for me, all fucked out… falling apart at the simplest of touches… such a dumb, needy thing.”

the feeling of your hand barely touching his length, the way you drag your nails against the places where you’d already left kisses— it all makes his head spin.

“...s-shit… too much, fuck,” he whines dumbly.

you watch him squirm and shiver, his breath hitching in his throat. his body is in overdrive, he feels so fucked out and so sensitive that the slightest touch has him twitching with pain and pleasure.

“aww i know, baby, i know,” you taunt him, pouting mockingly at him. “but you look so pretty like this… and i know you can take it, just a little longer, yeah?”

he nods through his tears and you praise him. “there’s my good boy. always so obedient and good for me, you’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

© foolsunz 2023. all rights reserved.

[nrdmssgs]

Best part of his life

Masterlist Angst Pairing: König X afab reader TW: No mentions of death, but this all is an allusion. AN: Sorry, guys, I know, you come here for comfort. I'll be back with it in some time, promise.

The best days of his life started with a mission. It was a huge success: he and his team were so effective, they managed to end a whole operation a week earlier than it was originally planned. König was proud of his men and happy to return home, return to her so soon.

He can barely restrain himself from calling her - he doesn't want to spoil the surprise. A bouquet of fresh cut flowers is lying on the seat next to him. König touches tender petals and smiles, remembering her soft lips. The lips, that he hasn't ever kissed yet, but this time he sure will - now that she confessed her feelings before his deployment - he is not afraid, that they are on the different pages.

König never noticed, how close to the KorTac base she lived. Previously, the journey from the base seemed endlessly long, but now he only managed to get on the train and barely look around - and it was already time for him to get off. For the first time, he isn't bothered by a crowded station, noisy streets and cars leaving little to no space on the sidewalks. All that matters now is his destination and fresh flowers with drops of morning dew on green leaves.

He doesn't have to knock on her door, as someone left it open. König slips into the hallway just before the front door slams shut by the wind.

"Schatzt?" He calls her, and, not receiving any answer, searches for her in every room.

He's already starting to worry when he finally gets to the kitchen. She sits at the table, staring straight ahead. Large tears roll down her cheeks.

"My love, what's wrong?" He lets go of the bouquet and rushes towards her. She doesn’t answer him - she just exhales and her whole body shakes with a strangled sob.

König takes her hands and kisses them. Once, then again and again... Then he turns his gaze to the table. In front of her lies an opened envelope from the KorTac.

"Verdamte Idioten, diese Mistkerle hätten mir diesen Brief schicken sollen, wahrscheinlich ist es nur eine Gehaltsabrechnung für das Finanzamt!*" Konig notices, he is shouting. She was always afraid, when someone raised a voice in her presence. But now, she doesn't flinch or cover her ears. She sits absolutely still, looking down.

"Oh no-no-no, I'm so sorry, Schatzi! I didn't mean to scare you, my poor little love. Here, look at me, I'm smiling, I'm happy, no drama here, I promise." She doesn't react to his words, so he continues to cover her hands in kisses, hugs her tightly, strokes her hair. In a desperate attempt to distract her, König cups her face and gives her a long and incredibly soft kiss on the lips. When he realizes what he just did, his heart skips a beat. He shuts his eyes for a long moment, too afraid to see fear and anger in her face. But when he finally looks back at her - she looks calm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want our first kiss to be this... out of blue, I guess." He presses his forehead to hers. "Its just... I've been dreaming about it since you sent me that message with confession. I was daydreaming to come back home and do it. I had this crush on you for god knows how long, but hadn't the guts to make the first move... A-a-a-and, I'm talking too much, yeah?"

He laughs, brings her closer and hides her subtle figure in a tight embrace. Peppering her face with kisses, he mumbles, "Don't worry, my love, I'll never leave you from now on. No more letters from KorTac - I won't come back to them. From now on, I'm yours. Only yours."

If anyone asked him - König won't be able to say, how did he grow so bold with physical touches suddenly. Must it's her charm, or he just never was so desperately in love before.

Every next day of his life is better than the last one. They walk together, he helps her learn German, tells her stories from his childhood, reads her his favorite books, or just lays his head on her lap, as she is watching TV, sitting on the sofa.

König couldn't ask for a better life. He is so happy with it - he is even ok with her crying sometimes and never setting her kitchen table for them two. He genuinely understands, how overwhelming this love can feel - König himself is ready to burst into happy tears every other minute, he sees her. So there is no big problem in him to drop whatever he is currently doing and rush to her when he hears sobs. And when he sees only one set of tableware ready... Who is he to judge - König lived alone for so long, he would probably do the same automatically. So he just chuckles, takes out another plate and sits near her.

At first, he hesitates to sleep in her bed. "It's ok, I'll spend this night on the couch," says he, watching, as she goes to a bathroom before going to sleep. But one night he wakes up from whispers from her bedroom.

"I'm so cold without you, König... So cold."

He gets up from the sofa, hesitantly approaches her bed, and freezes. No, he's not going to lunge at her the minute she lets him get closer. But he still remembers how scared she was when they first met. He obviously seemed too dangerous, too big, too strong. Now König is ready to do anything just to prove to her that he needs all this strength, all his skills in order to protect her. For her, he is absolutely harmless.

"Why aren't you here, under this blanket..."

"I... I didn't know, you... needed me." Suddenly his mouth goes dry. He carefully climbs under her blanket, presses against her back, and drowns in the sweet scent of her hair.

"I love you." He brushes hair from her face.

"You will never be alone. Never be cold again, I promise." His lips brush against the back of her neck.

"I won't ever hurt you, love." He holds her in the most tender and warm embrace and watches as she slowly falls asleep. König is happy that her body is no more as tense as it was every time, he stepped too close. He is so happy that he does not even notice how the morning comes.

For breakfast, she again sets the table only for herself. But this doesn't upset him. Nothing will ever upset him.

Verdamte Idioten, diese Mistkerle hätten mir diesen Brief schicken sollen, wahrscheinlich ist es nur eine Gehaltsabrechnung für das Finanzamt!* - Damn idiots, those bastards should have sent this letter to me, it's probably just a payslip for the tax office!*

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sephiroth x Reader Made for You

This was not at all what it was originally supposed to be, original description is at the very end.

New Description: Sephiroth x Reader. Ever Crisis-Crisis Core-ish (Pre-Nibelheim) timeline. 5.9k words. In which you were created to be Sephiroth’s perfect mate. Warnings?: Mentions of alcohol abuse, miscarriages and Hojo’s clammy hands all over you(not like that). Hojo meant for you to serve as a breeding ground to create more perfect subjects. His plans get disrupted as your mother doesn’t have the heart to subject you to more trauma{trauma enters stage left as intense as possible} . In a panic she abandons you in hope that Shinra won’t be able to track you down. Eventually you cross paths with Sephiroth, creating a bond that would last a lifetime. Written in a series of headcanons, I’ll probably re-use reader backstory in other fics but i didn’t want to write this as a full out fic. It is definitely up in the air as to what happens to your mother, let's hope she will won’t be found she deserves death, i don't care if she tried to make it right. No, the dad is not Hojo. The age ranges helped me track what I was typing but I don't think I'll take it away. I’d say probably a year or so older than Sephiroth. Will make a part two for the events following Genesis’ departure-FF7 possibly through Advent Children too.

_________________________________________

Age 1:

 Your mother, Levy, came to her senses shortly after giving birth to you. Taking off in the dead of night to hide her precious child from the cruel clutches of Professor Hojo. When she signed up for this project she didn’t fully realize what she would be submitting herself to, the kind of torment she’d relinquish a baby to, her baby to. She wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt knowing that she gave you the worst possible future. So in a desperate attempt to “set things right” she abandons Shinra, leaving Midgar and taking you to Corel.

Levy knows she can’t stay with you, she’d be far too easy to track down. Besides, Hojo would never let one of his prized experiments get very far. Certainly he wouldn’t want Levy to get away, not after trying to ruin such a delicate process. There are consequences to these actions and everyone gets caught eventually. She needs to make this quick. It's already been two weeks since the two of you escaped, knowing that she doesn’t have the resources or connections to stay hidden for very long sends her into even more of a panicked state.  

All things considered, the decisions she made were already questionable, so it was no surprise that Levy’s poor choices led her to handing you off to some random stranger who reeked of liquor. Granted, he might have been absolutely shitfaced but he did at least seem to have a warm spirit. That was the last time she ever saw you, hugging you tightly and kissing you on the forehead before venturing on to the next unknown location.

The day Levy dropped you off to the strange man was a turning point for your “adoptive father”, Kaiser. Previously he was a drunk with a gambling problem, only picking up odd jobs to fuel his addictions. While he heavily considered taking you to the nearest clinic and dropping you off, another part of him thought the lifestream brought this child to him for a reason. That maybe now his life had purpose again, that maybe if he could do some strange lady a favor that it might atone for the things he’s previously done.

Age 4:

 Kaiser started to pick up his bad habits again, losing every job he’d obtained due to showing up drunk; not showing up at all because he was out gambling all of his funds away, or the icing on the cake that led to his inability to find another job in Corel, stealing. In such a small town word got around fast, yet people still went out of their way to give him a chance, more so for your sake, not Kaiser’s. The townspeople could only be sympathetic to an extent, eventually not being considered for hire by anyone. Following these events led him searching for work outside of Corel, branching out to Midgar where he got a job doing residential plumbing. 

Age 4-10:

It was enough to make ends meet, renting out a single bedroom in the slums of sector 5. Not the most ideal or comfortable living situation but it was better than being on the streets. The move to Midgar at least showed positive signs in your father, but that would only last for so long. He was always still loving towards you, though at times it was hard to tell how much he truly cherished you since he seemed more interested in trying to maintain both lifestyles when he should’ve picked you above all. It was when he discovered Wall Market his presence dwindled down to a minimum. Still claiming that you saved his life and all of that other nonsense while leaving you to fend for your own in the same breath.

Age 10-12:

 Eventually you started leaving home alone, beginning to venture out and wander the slums. After a certain point you couldn’t sit around waiting for Kaiser to feed you, never knowing what he would come back to take care of or even tell you he loves you. This existence was so painfully lonely. Without much direction in life thus far you started getting involved with a group of fellow misguided children. Learning how to break into homes, shops, showing you how to pickpocket people; life was hard enough in itself, these few skills (if you wanna call it that) helped you get by. Despite Kaiser still being around you had to start getting funds on your own, especially when you learned property owners had zero problem throwing a child out on the streets no matter your situation. 

You and your tightknit group of baby thugs manage to bring your string of break ins to the upper plate, securing passes to the top for the oldest of the group (18-20) and the younger of the group would act like they were with an older sibling, negating the need for passes as they were minors. Picking a different plate to explore each time you went up and stole whatever you found valuable or simply wanted out of greed as long as you could discreetly bring it back. Roaming Sector 2 may have been your biggest mistake. Quickly stuffing the tools from a car you broke into your bag, slamming the trunk shut and taking off as fast as possible. It was already a risky area to break into cars at, the spot you chose happened to be a bit too out in the open, you just had a hunch something good would be in the vehicle. All but running around the corner to distance yourself from your crime you bump into someone making you fall right on your ass. 

Twelve years. He’s been looking for you for twelve long years with practically no traces, yet here you were. Had Hojo told Heidegger no at the notion of going out to lunch together you wouldn’t have been sprawled out on the ground in front of him. The minute you locked eyes with the strange man, a menacing smirk spread across his features. Hojo’s nice words betraying his true intention and twisted glee, looking into those e/c glowing eyes Hojo knew you belonged to him. Reaching a hand out to help you up, apologizing for being “clumsy”, asking where your parents are, his grin never leaving his face. Not taking the time to talk to him, you mumble a quick thanks for helping you up, immediately darting off to find the others, a bit shook at the thought of nearly being caught. Surely you had been caught, just not in the way you thought. 

Despite being, in Hojo’s eyes, inadequate due to his lack of presence in your life, you were still valuable. You were another product of the Jenova Project, not quite to serve the same purpose as the First Class SOLDIERS, though you could have been just as strong. He’s missed too many monumental milestones in your growth to achieve similar results as Sephiroth. However, that isn’t going to stop him from trying in combination with ensuring you’re capable of achieving your original use. It won’t be hard for him to track you now, he knows what you look like and where you’ve been. The city is riddled in surveillance and Hojo will see to it you are found, sending out several Turks to monitor you, requesting they take various items from the shared home of you and Kaiser that would contain any traces of your DNA. 

It didn’t take long for Hojo to prove who you were and that you were Shinra property, he was already certain of it after your first interaction. In the short time you were in Hojo’s presence one of the first things he did was take many samples from you. Even without the DNA Hojo had he would be able to find out your identity. Simply drawing your blood would have sufficed but he was forced to go about taking you back in a more “tame” manner. The minute the samples matched he sent the Turks in to snatch you up and bring you in, demanding Kaiser be brought with them. 

Age 12-15: 

Hojo didn’t make it a secret where you came from, telling you early on that you have always been Shinra property, claiming this was your real home. Over time Hojo somehow convinced you this life was better than the life you lived in the slums as well as any of the time you spent with Kaiser. Honestly, it was hard for you to tell as neither lifestyle proved to be healthy. At least you had regular meals and a guaranteed roof over your head, regardless of it being a creepy cold lab, but you were once again back to being alone but now all of the time. Never allowed to interact with anyone, your only company was Hojo, if that could count. Rarely talking to you outside of questioning you in relation to testing or attempting to cram as much knowledge into your brain as possible. Also sharing interactions with the couple of Turks he allowed to train you, Hojo oversaw each training session, cutting off any conversation he felt didn’t assist in your progression. Which were certainly most of them.

An absolute fucking nightmare. Being subjected to Hojo’s experiments was, now, the worst thing you’ve ever experienced, you thought life was challenging before but currently this is a special kind of hell. Being left in mako tanks for weeks on end because you “need to catch up”, being kept awake for the majority of your surgical experiments unless it was really necessary. Forced to repeatedly kill in order to prove your worth, doing things you couldn't imagine just in the hopes to save a “father” they’ve already killed. You don’t know this information, the leverage you think they have against you makes you more inclined to go along with their plans. 

Hojo learned the hard way that your abilities to heal like the others were extremely lacking. On this particular day Hojo was, once again, invading your body. Not so much to alter anything, but taking notes on significant changes from past surgeries and experiments, as well as testing new equipment. He wouldn’t admit it due to his “singular genius” but the machine he created to assist in speeding up surgical processes malfunctioned. In turn severely damaging numerous organs and causing excessive bleeding. While, no, just any organs won’t do, he’s going to piece you together as fast as he can. Refusing to let you go after seeking you out all of this time. Your potential is too great. Quickly pulling out a few cadavers that were failures from the Jenova Project, but due to the genetic makeup, their parts will have to do. Smiling as he pieced you back together, taking organs from the other bodies and replacing your damaged parts.

Something about killing you, reviving you, and nursing you back to health brought you and Hojo closer to each other. Having a portion of his lab reconstructed into a small living quarters so you could be more comfortable while you got better. Between all of his other experiments, you, plus Sephiroth, Hojo found it convenient to spend a lot of time in your space. Partially due to his constant need to take care of you after that last incident, Hojo's day would often end with you. Swooping by to change any bandages, check vitals, asking the usual to help assess your health. You’re not sure what made you reach out to him, or why he surprisingly extended his hand out to you. It came to a point the nightmares were just too much, the nightmares Hojo instilled in you. In spite of all signs telling you to run from him, your skin crawling when you think about Hojo, you still wanted his comfort. Requesting that he stays with you for the night, telling him you were too scared to fall asleep because of the things you’ll see. Hojo rolls his eyes and scoffs at this, nevertheless he settles himself into your quarters. Crawling into your bed just as you wanted, finding himself annoyed by the display of weakness, yet a foreign warmness crept into Hojo’s chest. It was uncomfortable, it was weak, it was welcoming. The smallest smile of content cracking through Hojo as you crawl on him, resting your head on his chest. Bringing one of his arms to wrap around you snuggly. While no, you weren’t his kid, you brought out this almost fatherly sensation out of him.

You would never get permission to leave his lab, being able to occasionally roam about as he monitored your actions. If for once he was strictly doing paperwork related tasks he would allow you out as well, still keeping a close eye on you. Often finding yourself standing in front of pods of lifeless beings, half wondering if you’d end up like them; the other half curious as to what they are, or rather what Hojo did to make them what they are. Eventually you can’t help but question him on some of these things as he takes you back to your portion of the lab. Many times he ignores your questioning, knowing the complexities of each creature would be too much for you to understand, not hesitating to let you know. Eventually your constant questioning led to another connection the two of you developed, starting to take the time to explain some of the creatures, even providing you his research from a few of them. To Hojo’s surprise you caught on impressively fast, here he was thinking you weren’t the most competent finding himself able to have full conversations with you about projects he felt he was permitted to talk about with you. 

Age 15-17

Hojo finally started integrating back into the real world. Allowing you to go on missions with the Turk members who've been training you. Leaving that lab had been viewed as a form of freedom in their eyes, accepting taking you on assignments willingly. Not without a sense of guilt as some of your actions would shape the person you would become, feeling like you were too young to experience such events. Granted, you’ve already been through hell, you just dish it out now definitely still being tormented. Your success rate consistently being 100% never failed to get you praise from Hojo, uttering some nonsense about getting closer and closer to his goal with you. Not that he’d ever tell you what you were really used for outside of “genetic testing”. Well, it isn’t a total lie afterall, you were a walking, talking genetic nightmare and Hojo was the only person that would ever understand what makes you tick.

Meeting Sephiroth was entirely planned on Hojo’s behalf, keeping the two of you out of sight from one another as you grew up. It was simply better to go about introducing the two of you this way. Sending the two of you off on a mission with a few other SOLDIER members to eliminate a former Shirna employee who took off with some very valuable materia. Upon seeing Sephiroth you almost couldn’t contain your glee, finally meeting someone your own age for the first time in four years. The trip to Modeoheim provided a fairly interesting conversation between you and Sephiroth. The look of surprise written all over his face as your words hint at you growing up with Hojo as well. Once Sephiroth pieced it together he was a bit confused, frowning at his own question, “I’ve been there my whole life, why haven’t I seen you before?” You’re aware of what you should and shouldn’t talk about, vaguely going into detail about the small amount of time you remembered in Corel and your life in Midgar but not quite how you were brought to Shinra. Revealing you never knew your parents and having an adoptive father who “vanished” according to Hojo’s words accompanied in building a bridge between yourself and Sephiroth. The two of you could heavily relate to each other, even being able to make dark jokes about the weird things Hojo has subjected you to. That gets a lot of worried glances from everyone around, but nobody is going to speak on it. Following this successful mission you and Sephiroth have the joy of working together on three other occasions before you don’t see him for years.

Age 18-23

Hojo had no intentions on letting you be a part of SOLDIER directly, stating that it would be a waste of resources, making it clear that wasn’t what you were trained for nor born for. As time passes on Rufus decides to make you an official member of the Turks with Hojo’s permission. You’ve taken on missions from them as is; working hand and hand with Tseng many times in which you gained his approval as well. Rufus wanted Tseng to retrain you personally, your skills already being a cut above the rest. However, Rufus wasn’t present for a majority of your original training. No worries though, Tseng is going to help you brush up those already near perfect skills. Making sure your physical training was consistently up to date and your wits were as sharp as ever. The mental training with Tseng was far more grueling than the physical training, taking you through espionage-esque simulations that could last for weeks. He had to be positive that your critical thinking and adaptability were to his liking. Not to mention making sure you were capable of making difficult and immoral decisions at the blink of an eye with no hesitation. Gaia, when the objective was to outsmart Tseng you’ve hardly passed. An accomplishment that’s a near impossible hard feat to achieve, after attempt after attempt he finally gave you a pass. Though you can’t call it a win, not when Tseng told you “Not good enough to trick me, but a mass of the population wouldn’t pick up on it.” In the end Tseng turned you into what he would consider a perfect Turk, well near perfect. The duo of Reno and Rude would certainly taint your more serious demeanor, teaching you how to properly slack off and to time inappropriate jokes so you could grate at Tseng’s nerves. Even coming up with your own Turk-Two Step for each one of the iconic duo. Joining the Turks was like joining a family, a really fucked up one that carried out a lot of unethical tasks together, but a family nevertheless. 

Once you became a Turk you finally moved out of Hojo’s lab, getting your first apartment. You would still be residing in the Shinra building, instead on a residential floor. You seemed to be loyal to the company, either it stemming from a genuine place or the knowledge that there is no escaping Shinra. Being as deeply involved as you were, it isn't like they’d let you go easily  and you had nowhere to run off to. Shinra really was all you had. So letting you venture out on your own just didn’t seem like it would be problematic. Besides, who else would take care of you except for Hojo, he was probably the only person on the planet that could. As sickly as you could be, it would be foolish to stay away from him, common medical practices wouldn’t be of any use. Which is fine by you, the connection you developed with Hojo is still strong. It was an odd relationship but you cared for him in a fatherly sense. Hojo was far from being an actual father figure but when you squint your eyes and tilt your head it made sense. Seeing that he took care of you for so long, teaching you practically everything you know, showing you in his own twisted way that he cares for you. You still go in for regular testing, sometimes extra experiments if Hojo wants to try something new. These days the extra “modifications” would be made less and less. To make up for your lack of presence in Hojo’s lab you make it your job to pop up as often as possible, interrupting his research unless he was working on something live. 

One of the days you pay Hojo a visit, you find Sephiroth sitting on an examination table, shirtless as Hojo checks his vitals. If it weren’t for a few obvious factors you wouldn’t have recognized him. He’s grown a lot since you worked together 5 years ago. Tall, muscular and his hair had grown an ungodly amount. You had seen pictures around but that was nothing compared to physically seeing him. Quickly turning your gaze towards Hojo, giving him a hug before swiftly greeting Sephiroth and rushing out the door. Attraction was certainly a foreign experience, not having anywhere near enough time to dabble in dating or any relations that would fall under that category. To Hojo’s delight Sephiroth would ask if he knew where to find you and without hesitation he gave Sephiroth your floor and residential number. By all means, Hojo already retrieved the necessary means to reproduce between the two of you. He would much rather this process occur naturally, carrying the child yourself would very well give different results. He’d love to compare the difference between a child naturally conceived between you and Sephiroth and a test tube version.

It didn’t take very long for Sephiroth to come looking for you thinking that perhaps he may be going a step too far coming to your home. He simply couldn’t stop thinking about you, one of the only people he felt he could relate to on an entirely different level. A part of him viewing the small amount of time the two of you spent together as unfair, he deserved to be showered in more of your presence. You left Hojo's lab with such haste that he could barely catch a glimpse of you. So here Sephiroth stands, in front of your door staring at it like it might attack him. Ah, he forgot he was completely socially inept, being positive that he’s never felt this type of fear even on the battlefield. It’s okay, he’ll be spared a bit of the anxiety that came with knocking on your door as you sneak up behind him. Staring at your front door with the same amount of curiosity before questioning him, “Is there something wrong with it?” The look on his face said it all. Shock, embarrassment, you could practically feel the tension rolling off of this man. There was no denying the small smile tugging at Sephiroth’s lips as you asked if he found what he was looking for, telling you that he “certainly did”. Now that you were up close you couldn’t help but examine him, asking yourself if you were sure this was the same man from your first missions. A few moments of silently looking each other over passes before inviting him in with you. The two of you sit in an awkward silence for a bit before you take charge of conversation to ease his obviously wary mind. Guiding him through conversation seemed to fair far better, he had always been a bit awkward but dare you say it got worse. Not that it bothers you, it’s adorable watching the world’s strongest man trip over his words while talking to you. By the time he left it was nearing 1am, promising to come back, hugging you tightly before he departed. You could feel him stiffen as he hugged you, but the rapid beating of his heart told you everything.

Over the course of the next couple of years, your relationship with Sephiroth would strengthen. With Sephiroth finally being sent back to Midgar you were able to see him more and more. Of course he was still busy with his role in SOLDIER, but he made sure to make an open slot for you any chance he got. There was never quite a verbal discussion as to where your relationship was going, neither one of you knowing how to go about initiating a relationship normally. Your unspoken loyalty to each other was clear though, he was yours and you were, without a doubt, his. At some point Sephiroth starts getting you out of the Shinra building if your schedules align for it, he’s tired of seeing Shinra walls and thinks you should be too. Taking you to restaurants Angeal and Genesis would suggest he take you to, sometimes wandering the streets in the dead of the night, away from prying eyes. It took a lot of adjusting to how much attention Sephiroth would draw on your outings, jokingly offering to “take care of them”. There had to be a balance of course, you couldn’t be in the public light very much as a Turk, so having your face plastered everywhere as Sephiroth’s significant other wouldn’t do. That worked out in both of your favors, never caring to be in such a crowded scene. You would start spending nights at his place; whether it was due to Sephiroth or being outside of Shinra walls, easily could’ve been the combination of both, you could finally sleep easily. Falling into routine (Sephiroth’s subtle ways of begging for attention) at some point you abandon your apartment, only stopping there if work keeps you over too long or to grab any items you need along the way.

Being sent on missions became difficult for you, it wasn’t due to any difficulty spikes. You were more than capable of handling any tasks they sent your way, it was the distracting thoughts and incomplete sensation you got when Sephiroth wasn’t by your side. Finding it hard to fall asleep on missions just as the time you first began venturing out into the world. It was even worse when you would come back to Sephiroth being deployed on a mission. Though you missed each other dearly the distance would never come between each other, in fact the two of you were certain nothing would. You were made for him, something he tells you often, unknowing the true depth of his words. There were at least perks to being away from him for extended periods of time. The way Sephiroth would take care of you after a mission was unmatched. No, he couldn’t cook, making him stay far away from the kitchen after his first time making you a meal (you got food poisoning and it tasted exactly like military rations). However, he would do sweet things if time allowed, like having flowers waiting for you, running baths, giving you massages to help soothe your aching muscles after a rather rough time on the field, not to mention the sex. And boy, did he have a list of kinks. The longer you were away would at times dictate how intense he would fuck you when you got back. Amongst all things he was there for you after all of your missions, not all of them made you feel guilty enough to cause much turmoil. But as we know, you work doing Shinra’s dirty work, and at times the things you had to do to keep Shinra in good lighting were downright atrocious. Sephiroth being able to thoroughly understand your mental state after particular missions helped in comforting, while you were unable to talk about most events that occurred during missions, you didn’t have to. He has you and he’s going to hold you until you stop crying, just as you do for him when Sephiroth’s guilt tears him to shreds.

Discovering you were pregnant had to be the second most terrifying event in your life. Finding Sephiroth sitting at the dining room table reading, you break the news to him, not feeling keen on hiding anything from him. Sephiroth borderline passed out at the news but he was happy “You don’t seem to reciprocate the feeling, is this not what you wanted with me?” Sephiroth has said in the past he wanted a family of his own, expressing his desire to create a healthy environment, to be a parent to his offspring. He just wants to give his child the life he wanted so dearly. God’s it certainly was, but it wasn’t at the same time, explaining how reliant you are on Hojo due to your health. A reminder that nearly causes him to flip the table over, this was probably the loudest you ever heard him get angrily shouting that he “doesn’t want that monster anywhere near my child!” Watching the emotional breakdown he had as fear crept in, he might not have a choice but to let you deal with Hojo for the duration of your pregnancy. In addition to the chance Sephiroth may even have no choice other than to let that “sick fuck”  run tests on them, easily became one of the most heartbreaking sights. Holding him tightly you dually decide to keep it under wraps as long as you can, knowing it couldn’t last long as you have regular checkups just as Sephiroth does.

Hojo can sense something isn’t right, your lack of presence makes that part obvious. Coupled with you avoiding appointments the last 4 months, coming up with some work related excuse that he knew was bullshit. He gets access to everything you do, everywhere you go, he could damn near tell you what the last batch of paperwork you signed for Tseng entailed word for word. Once again giving your cellphone a call knowing today was an off day for you, letting out a frustrated sigh as you let it go to voicemail. He has time today, he’s going to call until you answer the damn thing. Even stopping by your apartment, by now he knows you’re rarely there. Often spending your time at Sephiroth’s loft, showing up there was a thought but he had a hunch your lack of attendance had something to do with Sephiroth. Sephiroth probably wouldn’t answer the door for him or lie about your whereabouts. During his walk back to his lab Hojo is pleasantly surprised to see your name show up on the screen of his phone, immediately asking why you haven’t showed up to any appointments. Hojo was well on his way to lecturing you about how fragile and unpredictable your health could be before being cut off by Sephiroth's worried voice. He was speaking in a jumbled mess, being able to make out bits of what Sephiroth was saying as he was talking a million miles per second. At Sephiroth’s explanation, if you could call it that, Hojo tells him to bring you in. Hearing the hesitance in Sephiroth’s reply Hojo utters out coldly “or would you rather y/n bleed out?”

Upon running an ultrasound Hojo determines you were roughly four months in. “Four months in with no heartbeat.” Anger was an absolute understatement, due to you and Sephiroth’s combined stupidity killing a perfectly good specimen. Hojo’s concern hardly lied with you, but he was going to act the part so well it had Sephiroth questioning himself as to why Hojo never shared that same amount of care. The very moment Hojo was done cleaning you up and checking your vitals once more, he asks to speak to Sephiroth in private as they let you rest. Hojo would use this moment to gaslight Sephiroth to no end, directing all of his aggression at the silver haired man as soon as were far enough from your room. Venom laced Hojo’s tone as he asked what the two of you were thinking. Sephiroth had no problem stating his distaste for Hojo, in great detail, furiously stating that Hojo wouldn’t “fuck up my kid as you did me.”  In Hojo’s mind he was throwing an absolute fit. There were no words to describe the fury coursing through his veins at Sephiroth’s words. “If I’m hearing you correctly, your reasoning is because you are scared of me?” That was the straw to break the camel’s back, Sephiroth snatching Hojo by his coat, shoving him against the wall so hard it leaves a dent. The action surprised them both. While Hojo wasn’t scared, he was taken aback. Hojo hardly had time to register Sephiroth’s movements as grabbed him up in a flash. Knowing Sephiroth wouldn’t go through with hurting him, Hojo continues his mental assault. Stating in a matter of fact way “Had you brought y/n to me the minute you knew, they both could have been fine, but now we’ll never know."  “Your paranoia led to their deaths.”  “And to think, y/n told you a long time ago they need me.” Making it very clear the amount of danger the two of you naively subjected your child Hojo’s creation and yourself to was reckless. “What were you going to do if they were sent on assignment?”  “Next time, show y/n you actually care, get them the help they require. Not everyone’s life operates on your terms.” After those words Sephiroth releases Hojo, defeated in a way he’s never felt before. Walking back to your recovery room, refusing to leave your side until you're cleared to go. 

Sephiroth wouldn’t sleep well for a while following these events, the guilt keeping him up for months. Not showing up to work, skipping meals, moping all of the time, notable of all Sephiroth’s refusal to leave your side. At times unable to cope, truly feeling as though the loss of your child and the risk your life was in was entirely his fault. Hojo’s words playing over and over again in his head like a broken record. Sephiroth never told you what Hojo said that night, he’s not even sure why he didn’t, mostly due to him believing everything Hojo said. He would break down from time to time about it, crying and apologizing profusely for all the pain he caused you, despite the million times you told Sephiroth he’s done nothing wrong. He would try his hardest to stay strong around you, knowing you would easily feel worse than him. You were the one pregnant afterall, the one to fully experience the impact of a miscarriage. Then why does it feel like he’s shedding more tears over this than you? It made his sense of guilt go through the roof. You definitely cried a lot after you lost your baby, falling into a depression, finding yourself not leaving Sephiroth’s arms for hours as you too sulked around. Despite Sephiroth feeling like he wasn’t supporting you enough, the reality was you both were a source of strength for each other and he too has a right to feel sadness. You would pick him back up, as he would do the same for you. Eventually falling back into old routines. Going on outings again, enjoying the night breeze, having spontaneous little date nights, or just spending your time in comfortable silence. Yeah, sometimes the pain would come back, it was hard not to dwell on it, but at least life felt normal between the two of you once more. Well, as normal as it could get with your lives. This peace would only last so long as Genesis deserts Shinra, leaving Sephiroth’s mental state to begin declining again. At least he had you and Angeal, not to mention the little baby growing in you again. Let’s just hope your pregnancy goes smooth this time and Genesis returns soon.

______________________________________________________________

Lollllll Christ I'm sorry I couldn't just let ya'll be happy but that's not how it's going. I'm kind of happy with the direction this went vs my original description which is...questionable at best. It's 5 am now so im gonna get some fuckin sleep

Original description: NSFW? But not really NSFW? Warning might change I dunno yet. Hojo x Reader headcanons. Sick little freaky old bastard I have no idea why I love him. I’d real deal take that dick for some SOLDIER juice. I prefer the idea of Hojo rejecting me though, makes me feel good and desperate. Warnings: idk this sounds like grooming but unintentional. I still want arranged breeding with Sephiroth. This isn’t incest, halfway through my mind said “aye dawg the lines are kind of blurred here”, we don’t know who the father is but it won’t be Hojo cause if we were doing that with anyone, he is not the guy. 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

hey baby, I would like to request something? if that’s okay💗

angst with rick grimes, if you can? can do a happy ending, don’t have to.

love you💗

.⋆｡I Forgot To Say Goodbye｡⋆.

Rick Grimes x plus size reader

Arguments were not uncommon for you and your husband but they were always resolved by sunset. This time is different

Warnings: ANGST, death, canon typical violence, arguments, canon mc death, brief mention of Carl’s death, pregnant reader

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

A/N: I hope you enjoy my love 😘

Follow and turn on notifications for my library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“It’s too dangerous! There’s so much that could go wrong!” Your voice was strained and nearing its breaking point. It felt like you had been fighting for days at this point, neither of you willing to back down and admit that you were wrong.

Rick ran a hand through his silvery hair and breathed out a heavy sigh of frustration. “It’s the best plan we have but you’re right, it is too dangerous. So tell me, what great idea do you have that will save us all?” He asked sarcastically. 

“Don’t you fucking dare. You know that this is a bad idea too. You’re gonna get all of us killed!” Your eyes burned with tears but you wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t let him think that he got to you.

“At least I’m actually doing something to try and keep us safe.” He spat. Your entire body seized and Rick’s eyes widened. “Darlin-“

You held up your hand, stopping him in his tracks. “I have followed you for years Rick. We’ve survived so much together. I trust you with my whole being but this, this is something that I can’t stand behind. What if the explosives don’t go off in time? What if the bridge doesn’t fall? You’re running into this whole thing blindly and it’s gonna backfire!” You were begging him to listen for once, you needed him and he was ready to kill himself over a plan that you knew would fail.

“What happens if you die? What am I going to do without you? Judith needs you, I need you. Please Rick, we've already lost too much.” You looked at Rick’s old sheriff hat which sat proudly on the mantle in your home. Your husband deliberately looked away, taking a step back.

“Don’t try to tell me what’s at stake. I’m doing this for you! I’m keeping you and Judith safe. I couldn’t-“ He choked on his words for just a moment before he swallowed thickly. “-I couldn’t save Carl but I can do something to save you now. I’ll be back by nightfall.” And before you knew it, his gun was gone from the side table and the door slammed shut behind him.

——————

Judith had been fussy all day- refusing to go down for a nap, throwing her food, even hitting you when you attempted to sooth her. It drove you both to tears and made you feel physically sick. You knew she wanted her dad but she was just too little to understand why he wasn’t there. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out and she fell asleep in the bed both you and your husband shared, her little blonde eyebrows scrunched in anger. You tucked a small blanket around her and laid a soft kiss to her forehead. “He’ll be home soon baby, I promise.”

As the sun began to get lower in the sky, your anxiety grew. You busied yourself with chores that had been long put-off, trying desperately not to think of your husband and the horde of walkers he would be facing. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind was fixated on one thing.

No matter the circumstances or how long you two would be apart, Rick always kissed you goodbye. He would always tell you that he loved you like it was the last time he would ever say it. But today, he just left and you didn’t stop him.

The roar of the motorbike drew you from your thoughts. It was well past midnight now but you sighed in relief. You didn’t care about the fight anymore, you just wanted Rick home. Abandoning the laundry you had folded more than three times, you approached the front door just as it swung open.

Daryl stood alone in the doorway, unable to meet your gaze. “Where’s-“ You couldn’t even get the question out before he shook his head, his dark hair falling in front of his face. “Daryl.” Your voice cracked, just the same as your heart.

“He said ta tell ya tha’ he loved ya.” Your ears rung as you collapsed to your knees, shock making your body numb. Vaguely, you could feel Daryl’s hands on your shoulders, attempting to shake you out of it, but you were lost. 

He was gone. The love of your life was gone and the last thing you ever did was fight with him. When was the last time you told him that you loved him? He would never know how much you regretted fighting with him. He would never see Judith grow. He would never know-

You were fighting for air, barely able to fill your lungs as your mind spiralled. You could see the way that your friend’s lips moved as he desperately tried to speak to you, but you could hear nothing. Black dots littered your vision, quickly getting larger until the blackness consumed you.

——————

“Mama.” A tiny voice cooed as a little hand pushed against your face. You groaned and tried to roll over but the overzealous toddler followed you.

“Rick, could you get Judith?” The floorboards creaked and then her weight was lifted off of you as Judith squealed. “Thank you.” You stretched out on the mattress, savouring the early morning sunlight on your skin.

“Derl! Derl!” She excitedly yelled. Confused, you forced your eyes open. You were briefly blinded by the brightness of the room before your vision adjusted and you were met with the sight of your dearest friend, holding his niece close to his chest, his blue eyes firmly fixed on you.

Your mind was blank for a moment before last night’s events came rushing back to you. Tears rolled down your cheeks and Daryl panicked. “He’s really gone?” He nodded solemnly, his arms squeezing Judith even tighter.

“‘M sorry. I tried ta stop ‘im.” You waved him off, instead sitting up in the now painfully empty bed.

“I need Judith, please.” Immediately, she was thrust against your chest, Daryl stepped away like you were a wild animal ready to pounce. Your daughter settled easily, her chubby hands curling into your shirt as she laid her head on your collarbone. She breathed out a contented sigh, going limp in your hold.

You wiped away the tears from your face before they could fall into her hair. “You can go. I need to be alone for a while.” His jaw clenched tightly.

“Let me get ya some food. Ya need it for the little one.” But he wasn’t looking at Judith. He left the room quietly but not without dropping his bandana in your open hand, and walked mournfully to the kitchen.

You kissed Judith on her temple and leaned against the headboard, letting the tears fall silently. Rick would never know the child growing steadily in your womb.

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[joshusten]

love the sinner (albus york/faith koria, bastard warrior || good boy audios)

Albus York takes a bath and Faithful washes his hair. (angst, slight argument, hurt/comfort)

2.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist] [CW/notes: religious imagery ofc (this fic was basically an excuse to write that), typical albus york language, lots of self-loathing and some suicidal thoughts. albus is just having a bad time but hes also so whipped for faithful. speaking of her, i didnt make faith's physical descriptions vague or made it so that she's a "listener" but rather a character of her own! and i based it off of gba's description of her + my own interpretation hehe.]

once again THANK YOU SO SO MUCH to @slushiepizza for all the AMAZING suggestions and support like omfg i SWEAR i keep on saying this but this fic rlly wouldnt be finished without them!! i appreciate it sm!! and im shaking and kissing my irls that ive also bothered with this fic that will probably not see this THANK U SM!! edit: I FORGOT THE FUCKING READ MORE LMFAO

—

Albus York steadily sank into the half-filled tub of one of the ship’s quarters—stripped of his clothes, and left bare to no witness.

Gentle waves of the bathwater rippled against hardened, battle-torn skin. He dementedly mused that if he could go down further, he might finally drown. 

He chuckled at the thought, shifted his position, and got to work. It's been a while since he last had an actual bath—way before he even agreed to this suicide mission of an adventure—with warm soapy water and scented products.

The constant near-death experiences and whatnot had interrupted the trio to get any time for themselves, much less to do any sort of basic hygiene. Since the route Devlin had charted for the ship to follow allowed for ample downtime, the Forgemaster had practically shoved his younger half-brother into the common bathroom and forced him to take a much-needed bath (Of course, not without a snobby comment about how his stench matched his personality perfectly well.)

Albus’ inexperience was made clearer with the stiff, awkward motion of his large, calloused hands as he attempted to wash himself. The unpracticed movement made the unfamiliarity of it all fully realized. How long has it been since he felt this safe? Does he even remember how to take care of himself?

Does someone like him even deserve this luxury?

The warrior submerged himself lower, down until his eyes were right above water level. He was thinking again. It was all that he had been doing for the past hour. If the gods wouldn't allow him to drown, then he hoped that the water would at least cleanse the grime and sin embedded into his flesh.

But he knew that filth clung to his skin like how a believer clings to the idea of repentance. No matter how hard—how desperately—he scrubbed (until pale skin turned into blood red, until rough turned rougher), it was all pointless. He had learned long ago that a bastard's prayers were never left answered. 

The mark on his chest was a bleak reminder of that reality. Damnation was basically his birthright. Albus York was dead the moment he came out of his mother’s womb—dead to his family, dead to society. 

Cursed to hell for being sin itself.

Life had a funny way to remind him—that goodness is something he can be in the presence of but never be a part of it.

"Albus?"

Speak of the devil, his ever-so-naive angel had arrived.

“Albus? Hello?”

Tender, serene, heavenly.

The voice was melodic—like the somber hymns he used to hear in his youth when his mother would take him into the temple and meet with her fellow brothers and sisters. At that time, he always felt drawn to the choir’s performance, despite not being old enough to understand the words (not that he was any more literate in the present). Back then, he was just a kid, blissfully unaware of the blasphemy he had committed for existing. 

He had grown since then—in every aspect of the word.

"Albus! Are you still in there?"

A deep grunt, muffled slosh of water, and the pitter-patter of droplets on the tiled surface were all that Faith Koria had heard from the other side of the metal door before a familiar, gruff voice answered back.

"Calm ya tits, woman. I knew you were eager to see my dick but I never knew you were this eager!" 

The outside replied with an annoyed groan, a sound Albus was all too familiar with, especially when it came from her. That being said, he couldn't fight the smile forming on his lips as he hastily dried himself up with a nearby towel.

"You've been using the bathroom for more than an hour, just what are you doing in there? Some people want to get cleaned up too, you know!”

The metal door swiftly slid open with a sudden 'woosh!', hot steam dissipating before the runaway nun to reveal Albus’ tall stature, half-naked and slightly dripping wet. Faith frantically averted her eyes on instinct, ears immediately burning with embarrassment. It wasn’t like it was her first time seeing him undressed—for gods’ sake, she treated his wounds like this when they first met! But to have him fresh out of a bath with his toned body exposed and his dampened long hair was—Wait! His hair!

"Alright, alright! I’m out, ya happy? I’m decent too so you don’t have to be a prude about it,” The bastard huffed, a little irritated with how his peaceful bath (or at least, as peaceful as it could be) was abruptly cut short.  

“Albus, your hair!”

The man scrunched up his face in confusion.  He gathered one of his dark locks and examined it with an intense focus. “Huh? Looks fine to me. What, you're not expecting me to be all prim and proper now, are you?”

“No, no, no! It's all matted and uneven!” The woman replied with a horrified concern in her voice that was rare for the warrior to hear directed at him.“It’s probably from all those monster attacks. Some of them must’ve managed to get to your hair! How long has it been like this? Does it hurt? Do you even have shampoo?”

“Uh…what’s that?”

“Ugh, never mind. Just—” Before Albus could process what was happening, Faith grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip for a nun. She dragged him down near the bathtub he just got out of. He can even hear the water still slowly swirling down the drain. 

“Faithful, what are you—” 

“Stay right here. You got that, York? I’m just going to get something and I don't want you to move a muscle.”

A deep chuckle resonated within the man’s scarred chest—he always enjoyed it when she got this bossy. He gave her a mock salute and answered with a hearty “Yes, ma’am!”

The sister paladin made a face, letting out a flustered huff before hurrying to wherever she needed to be. So cute.

Albus had put on his clothes at this point while he waited (lest he risked Faithful suffering from a heart attack). A few minutes had passed by when she returned with a rather large pouch that Albus recognized was packed with the rest of her belongings. He deduced it must've been from her childhood with how worn down the embroidery was. Once vibrant floral patterns dulled from years of usage.

“Lean back by the bathtub,” Faith instructed. “I’m going to start detangling your hair. I might cut off some of the more unsalvageable parts too. If anything hurts or if I snagged on it too hard just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” The man repeated simply, not really knowing how to react to all of the amount of consideration he was receiving. Abrasiveness was what he was more used to responding to, not the care that she unabashedly gave him.

She beamed brightly at his compliance (and no, his heart did not just skip a beat), soft hands found their way to his head and started brushing away the more manageable tangles before using a wide-tooth comb for the bigger ones. Despite the numerous warnings, her fingers were nowhere near to being rough. She was as gentle as a lamb—her slow brushstrokes eventually formed a rhythm that filled in the silence of the room. Albus decided to break the comfortable atmosphere.

“How are you so good with this shit?” He mumbled, voice heavy with drowsiness. Fuck, he felt like he could sleep until his next life. “Never knew sisters of Cindergorn get to be part-time hairdressers too.”

Even with his sluggish state, Albus could almost sense the nun’s eyes rolling above him, brushing out his hair with a slightly more forceful than usual tug.

“I'm the one usually taking care of the children at the temple. I’m used to seeing this kind of stuff whenever they play too hard. Obviously not on this level but you get the gist.” Faith snipped off the last of a particularly challenging knot. 

“I've also been doing my own hair ever since I was a kid, so really, it's like second nature to me at this point,” she followed up, running her fingers through his hair with a satisfied nod.

Now that Albus thought about it, he had seen Faithful braiding herself earlier on their journey when they had just…tastefully borrowed the flagship meant for his father. He remembered swift, practiced hands twisting sections after sections of dark, coiled hair and had mentioned in passing how it was a hairstyle she often did to withstand the Eastern Faithlands' harsher seasons (Fortunately, it also turned out to be great for going-on-a-quest-to-kill-your-priest-brother-and-save-a-child seasons too.)

Faith’s hands suddenly paused. Before the man could ask if something was wrong, she signaled him to stay still while she rummaged through the pouch to get a small bottle. She squeezed a moderate amount of product into her palm and spread it evenly. As she was about to apply the substance to his head, Albus jerked away, quickly stopping her hand with his own as a furrow formed on his thick brows.

“Faithful,” He chuckled. “Please, I’m a warrior. You don’t need to waste your fancy shit on me. My hair’s going to get fucked up again eventually so what’s the point?” 

Faith struggled to wriggle herself out of his grasp. “Wha–Albus, it’s fine!” 

“No, Faithful, I’m serious. It’s just hair. Hell, it’s my hair. Relax.” The man sat up straighter at this point, the water from his long, damp hair trickling down along the scarred tissue of his back but it was the intensity in those familiar brown eyes that made him feel a chill.

“And I told you it’s fine just let me—”

“Why are you making it a big fuckin’ deal? What do you want from me?” 

“What?” Faith’s voice cracked, appalled and confused. “Albus, what are you even talking about? I’m not asking for anything—”

“I’m just a bastard you hired to kill your brother! I was paid to do the dirty work for you, not to be your fucking toy—”

“Albus, wha—Y–You’re not a toy! Why do you—”

“If I’m not then why are you being like this to me? There’s a catch—there’s always a fucking catch. So what the fuck do you want from me?”

The nun managed to finally yank her hand away from his harsh grip and angrily slammed at the smooth surface of the tub.

“I just want you to stop being stubborn for once and let me do this for you!” 

The silence that followed between them felt suffocating.

Faith’s breath hitched, shocked by her outburst. She immediately straightened up her posture only to look down shamefully at the tiled floor. A shaky sigh left her lips, and Albus was doing everything in his power to stop himself from reaching out to her, seeking salvation he knew she shouldn’t give him because he was not sorry that he was like this. He wasn’t afraid to show his filth to the world because it was all he knew to do—all he was taught to do. There’s no excuse, no justification, no escape. She’s everything good and he’s just scum or worse yet—he’s a bastard. 

Because she’s an angel and he’s far worse than the devil.

“This isn't anything all that fancy…just something to keep it healthy and less stressful on your scalp. I just want you to feel okay. So please…” She trailed off. “Let me.”

“It’s…It’s just hair, Faithful. I’ll be okay, I’m a big boy,” Albus joked, but his words were sincere. He almost found the whole thing amusing—having the ever-so-snappy sister paladin fuss over him—if he didn’t get a feel for how much…his comfort seemed to mean a lot to her.

Faith pursed her lips, her gaze still fixed downward. “I just think…you deserve at least one good hair day.”

It's that word again. Deserve. Does she really think that? That he's worthy of all of this?

The man cleared his throat with a curt nod. Hesitantly, the nun's fingers slowly found their way back to the crown of his head, resuming whatever she was supposed to do. Steady, rhythmic brushstrokes filled the quiet once again. 

After what felt like hours of stillness, the bastard dared himself to shift his head and face her timidly—as if he was afraid he could melt under her piercing gaze.

"Thank you, for…for this," Albus grunted. He hadn't only meant for his hair.

Faith graced him with a dimpled smile—the one that made her eyes squint and showed the tiniest bit of the gap between her front teeth. She proceeded to tuck away a stray lock behind his ear, trailing down to hover over his cheek. Albus can practically feel the nervous tremble on her fingers as if she were hesitating on something. It all came to nothing in the end, closing her hands in a fist before withdrawing to her pouch to start cleaning up.

“Anytime, Albus. Besides, with how you always manage to find yourself in trouble,” the sister murmured, her voice playful (it never failed to leave Albus’ mind racing). Her eyes glinted as they locked into his almost like clockwork. “How can I not?”

Albus York sat by the empty bathtub of the ship’s quarters—fully clothed yet he had felt the most bare that he had ever been in front of someone. 

Faith smiled at him again and he swore he could make out the faintest halo crowning her head under the fluorescent bathroom light. ---- a/n: this is probably my most favorite fic that i wrote and i hope you enjoyed! lemme tell u this fic took way to long and got me so stressed for no reason idk ! i was worrying abt how this would happen in the timeline and all the lil details and then !! its a fic!! and im suppose to be having fun!! i am being self-indulgent!! (although i hope was able to characterize them well) again, feedback and comments r highly appreciated!! :DD have a good day/night and thank you for reading!!

[juancarlos-ortiz]

Haunted - Juice Ortiz x Reader One Shot

Inspired by I Miss You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

A/N: Ok first of all. This takes place after Juice's death in SOA cannon. I am very sorry about this lol. I won't have time to get a chapter of Marked for Carnage out this week but I wanted to get something out. And this is pretty damn sad if I do say so myself. I've been hearing the song I Miss You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams a lot and it just reminds me of Juice so much. So I thought of this. Warnings are below. Please read those and read ahead with caution. I also think I want to write more oneshots when I can and I'm happy to write for other SOA and Mayans characters too, so feel free to request if you would like! As always 18+ only please.

Warnings: death, grief, sadness, suicide, suicide attempts, kissing, proposal, general fluff, angst, sickness, vomiting (if I have missed anything please let me know).

Word Count: 1560 words

You groaned, opening your heavy eyelids, your skin stiff and feeling taught from where your tears had dried. You were laying on your side on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Taking a few moments, you glanced around the room, your mind quiet for the first time in over 12 hours. And then it hit you. And that gaping chasm where your heart was supposed to be broke open again. Juice was gone. The authorities had paid you a visit last night to let you know that he had been taken from you. Left to bleed out on the floor in gen-pop. Taking any life left in you with him. You remembered laying on your bed last night. Any kind of fight was long gone, having spent most of it screaming and kneeling in your doorway whilst the two officers awkwardly tried to offer any sort of comfort. But no, you would never know comfort again. You had buried your face in Juice's pillow, inhaling his scent, wanting it to suffocate you and take you to wherever he was now. And suddenly it had become overwhelming, the flood of memories tied to this bed.

You laid on your side, Juice wrapped in your arms. Your head was against his back, your arms around his waist. His breathing was shallow, stuttering. He kept raising a hand to his neck, and you knew he was running his fingers over the ligature mark on his neck. The distinct chain pattern, a reminder of his failure that he couldn’t even do this right. Your heart was in your throat as you reached over and grabbed his wrist. "Baby, stop," you pulled his hand over to you, pressing your lips against his knuckles. He swallowed and rolled over to face you. Slowly he pulled his gaze up to meet yours and your heart shattered all over again. Gone was the sweet, silly, innocent man you had fallen in love with. Before you sat a broken, desperate and defeated human. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you angry with me?" he asked, his voice low and croaky. You clasped his cheek in your hand, and when he opened his eyes they were glimmering with tears. "I'm angry baby," you admitted. He nodded, and a tear slipped down his cheek onto the pillow. "But not with you," you whispered. His brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm angry that I didn’t see the signs. That I let you get to this point. I wasn't here for you like you needed me to be," your throat felt full, tears beginning to rim your own eyes. "Please don’t leave me baby," you whimpered, pressing your forehead to his. Juice shook his head, rubbing his nose against yours like you had done a thousand times over in your need to be as close to him as possible. "I'm not going anywhere baby. You got me," he grasped your hand and held it over his heart. "Forever."

Groaning you sat up, running a hand over your face. You looked at the clock. It was nearly 11am. Nearing on 24 hours since Juice had left this realm for another. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye before he had been arrested. You had managed to visit him a few times while he was staying with Wendy, making your plans to go south together and be free from the club. Start over. But that had all changed after the Mayans had handed him over. Making your way to the kitchen, you felt your stomach growl. The idea of eating made you want to hurl but you knew you should try to keep something down. You filled a glass with water and grabbed some crackers from the pantry. They were old and probably stale as fuck but you figured if you could keep something bland down that wouldn't be a bad thing. You took a bite out of one and turned, resting your back against the sink. Your eyes trailed over to the stovetop, and it was almost like you could feel him with you.

"What is that you're humming, hmm?" you asked, walking up to where Juice stood at the stove, stirring the sauce for the pasta you were having for dinner. You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head between his shoulder blades. He began to rock back and forth and continued his humming, making you laugh. "What is into you, today?" you asked. He spun around, cradling your face and planting a kiss on your lips that had your toes curling in your shoes. "I don’t know what's gotten into me," he wiggled his brows. "But I know what will be in you later." You screwed your face up and slapped him on the chest lightly. "Very nice," you rolled your eyes at him, making him laugh. "Seriously," you said. "You're so happy today, what gives?" Juice grasped your waist and began rocking you back and forth again. You drew your arms up to rest around his neck. "I'm just excited for our weekend away," he shrugged, leaning down to press gentle kisses against your neck. "Mmm," you closed your eyes. "No club shit, no work shit," you sighed, smiling contentedly. "Yup," he pulled back, tightening his hold on your hips. "Just you, me. No clothes and room service." You opened your mouth in shock, trying to step out of his hold. "Mr Ortiz, we need to get you neutered!" Juice laughed, pulling you to him. He kissed you again, sending your blood thundering through your body, his tongue pushing into your mouth, the sauce on the stove completely forgotten about. Little did you know that the weekend included you, Juice, no clothes, room service, and the ring he had stored in his underwear drawer.

You looked down at the ring on your finger now. Your stomach rolled and suddenly the one cracker and the glass of water were ready to make an appearance. Sprinting to the bathroom, you only just made it to the toilet before you were on your knees, the small amount of food and liquid coming up, followed by the bitter taste of bile. And all of a sudden the tears were back, unleashed in an unstoppable wave as you heaved and sobbed over the toilet bowl. You didn’t know how long you kneeled there, gripping the toilet seat as the grief suffocated and burned you from the inside out simultaneously. Eventually the churning subsided and you moved to sit against the wall, hiccupping whilst the tears continued to spill. You shut the lid of the toilet, and again, it was like Juice was right in front of you.

You tapped your foot in annoyance when Juice winced yet again, trying to pull away from where you held a cotton ball with antiseptic against the spilt on his eyebrow. "Stay still, you big baby," you chided, tempted to press a little harder against the wound. He huffed impatiently, but obliged, placing his hands on the outsides of your thighs. You stood in front of him whilst he sat on the toilet seat, tending to his wounds. "I was only protecting your honour," he tried to explain, making you huff. "As charming as that may be, Juice. This isn't the medieval times, and I can fight my own battles you know." Juice hummed and pulled your hand away from his brow. Pressing his lips against your wrist, where you knew your pulse was pounding, he looked up to you with wide, innocent eyes. Instantly turning your insides to mush. You gripped his jaw gently, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. He sighed faintly, and it took all of your effort to not climb into his lap then and there. Pulling away you grabbed a couple of steri strips from the first aid container, placing them along the cut. He probably needed stitches but this would do the trick until you headed over to St Thomas. "I know you can handle yourself baby, trust me," he ran his hands up your thighs and lightly smacked both sides of your ass, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. You just rolled your eyes at him. "But I like being your Prince Charming," he smiled, looking up at you again. You smiled down at him, placing both hands on his cheeks. Stepping closer you pulled his face to rest against your chest as you ran your hands over his shoulders and around his neck in an embrace. "I know baby. But no more fights, please?" you asked, stepping back to look down at him again. He just smiled his goofy smile. "No promises, baby."

You gripped the tshirt - his tshirt - that you were wearing in both of your clammy hands, as a guttural scream made its way up your throat. When it had died off into whimpers, you slowly laid down on your side, the cool bathroom tiles almost a shock to your overworked system. "This isn’t how it was supposed to be, baby," you whispered into the silence, your tears finally drying up again. He was everywhere. His entire being, the material of him, every memory, every kiss, every whisper, every promise. Everywhere. And yet he would never be anywhere again. Every corner of your life would be haunted.

[alpydk]

The scroll won’t work without a body you realise as you as you stand at the water’s edge. You’d waited over six months for him to come back to you, only for you to have been greeted by an imitation, a ghost of the man you once loved. Of course, he had to get that fucking crown. The one thing you told him repeatedly he didn’t need. He didn’t need it. He was good enough because he was worthy enough. It was you who had failed, not him. If you’d been better maybe he would have stayed; maybe he would have listened to you during that night drifting on the sea of stars.

But no, her whispers had been enough to convince him, her constant reminder humming in his chest was enough to keep the doubts there, and after so long he was a slave to them. You’re angry at them both. For everything she had done to him, for what she was doing to you now, for his last attempt at worthiness. You’d been through the first stage of grief, or maybe you were still there as you stood with the water lapping at your feet. You could just swim out there, find him, use the scroll. They never found a… no you can’t even admit it. It had been made clear to you that nothing was left and yet still you deny the clear truth, that he is gone, and you again are alone. Not enough, never enough to bring him back.

The letter he left you brought little comfort. You want to believe he loved you as much as he said he did, but if he did then he would have listened. He would never have left in the first place, he certainly wouldn’t have let you find out about his… well, in the way he did. A replicant, a summoning, a shadow of what he was. You couldn’t even touch him that last time, and so desperately you wanted to, you wanted to kiss him one final time, hold him in your arms and grieve but even that was denied to you. You were stuck in this perpetual limbo, hoping that maybe it wasn’t true, that he would suddenly appear if you just waited, hoped, and prayed for long enough. 

The funeral with the empty coffin, his mother and friend openly mourning and yet your tears could not come because there was always a chance. No… you’d got past that stage, you were moving forward. Anger comes next, they said or was it bargaining, because that you had certainly tried with the lich, with the demon, with the goddess, all of which had denied you or remained silent. But you certainly weren’t in denial because after so long you should be moving forward. Everyone else had so why couldn’t you? 

Did they have some information you didn’t? Had they been given a chance to say goodbye before he left? It was unfair how they could accept what had happened and you were left with this. You hated them, you hated his goddess, you hated… no, you couldn’t hate him, but you were so angry at him. He was selfish, wasn’t he? He was too ambitious and should have stayed with you, he should have come back. Why didn’t he come back?

A few steps into the water, it’s colder than you expected. Maybe he is out there. Maybe he found the crown but needs your help. Maybe all of them were wrong and you just need to keep hoping. Maybe you could find him

Maybe you could join him.

Death is but a word away.

[shinidamachu]

CHAPTER EIGHT: After You

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list.

WORDS: 729

GENRE: angst

FANDOM: Inukag

FORMAT: multichapter

ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

They weren’t going to make it. Not this time.

Kagome couldn’t see the creatures just yet, but she could feel their creep presence in her bones, sense their imminent approximation with every raised hair of her skin.

Inuyasha was exhausted. That much was clear even if she hadn’t watched firsthand as he powered through every Tessaiga technique, strike after strike that were redeemed useless when a hundred demons were annihilated only to be replaced for two hundred more.

She knew he hated running away, but there was nothing else for them to do, nothing left for them there. She didn’t want to think about the others,  about the village, about her feudal fairy tale turned horror story.  Regardless, their screams, their faces would still haunt her for the rest of her life, however short that might be.

Any hope of salvation was shot along the last of her arrows — the only reason they even got this far — and now her only comfort was that if they were going to die, at least they were going to die together. Maybe in different circumstances, that would have been more than enough.

Inuyasha slowed down, the blur of trees gaining shape again to reveal a devastating sight.

There was no going back.

Behind them, the enemies marched closer and closer. In front of them, a cliff that led to nothing but a maroon sunset. No way out.

Her heart sank.

This is how it all ends, with the world Kagome fought so hard to return to caving and bleeding before her very eyes. Three years apart had taught her little, because how else could she have forgotten fate could be so cruel?

It was fitting, though, that they would go down fighting. After everything they’ve been through, it was the only acceptable way to go and Kagome could make her peace with that.

A familiar need to protect blossomed from her chest, more fierce than when she first found out the news a few months ago. Kagome would do anything, try anything to give them a shot. She would raise a barrier and hold it until she draws her final breath on this Earth if she had to.

With renewed faith, she noticed Inuyasha also didn’t seem dejected in the slightest. If anything, he sounded determined as ever as he shouted.

“Kirara!”

The feline came out of her hiding spot in all of her nekomata glory, floating above the edge of the cliff and ready to take them to safety. Inuyasha had planned this. In hindsight, she should have known. He knew the lands better than to guide them to a dead end.

Still, it was odd that he left her out. He never left her out anymore.

In that moment, though, Kagome was too relieved to care.

Inuyasha gently let her climb off his back and she ran to Kirara as fast as her wounded legs would take her, only to realize her husband wasn’t following.

“Inuyasha, come on!”

“After you,” he answered, unsheathing Tessaiga and planting its scabbard firmly on the ground to buy them some time. Kagome was already accommodated on top of Kirara when he finally rushed to her side.

She offered a hand to help him out, but he used his to bring her face down for a desperate kiss instead. It was over before she even knew it began and then he was gently caressing her protuberant belly, his expression saying everything and nothing at all.

“I’ll hold them off.”

“What? No!”

“Kirara, go!”

“Inuyasha!”

“Now!”

His tone left no room for discussion and Kirara took flight before she had a chance to react.

Not much longer, Inuyasha was surrounded, Tessaiga’s sheath the one thing between him and certain death.

“No! Kirara, go back!”

It was no use. No matter how much she shouted, how much she cried, how much she pulled on Kirara’s fur in an attempt to force her to obey, the nekomata stayed unwavering, set on the curse that would take them to safety.

If she was fifteen again, reckless and impulsive, she would have jumped without thinking twice, confident Inuyasha would be there to catch her, not a single doubt in her mind. Years had passed and her trust in him remained unshakeable, but although she would risk her life for him in a heartbeat…

She could never risk their child’s.

“Inuyasha!”

Tears streamed down her face as he diminished with distance, sword in his hand.

A/N.: did you guys really think I wouldn't write anything for @inukag-week? Here's a little something for the "safe" prompt. Hope you guys enjoy.

[invinciblerodent]

I must confess, I have a little AA!AU brewing in my head. (blame youtube for constantly recommending videos of his lines to me for some reason lol)

It's very rudimentary right now, but I imagine that in this strand of reality, the paths diverge at that faithful insight check in the crypt where Iona originally rolled double nat1s, so there was nothing she could say or do, he ascended, and she, consumed by guilt as soon as her mind cleared (with the Gur's blood on her hands), left him that night.

This AU would fast forward a few decades, maybe a century from the game's events, and Iona would now be a monster hunter of some renown that's still, to this day, constantly pursued by-, and is in turn pursuing her jilted lover.

She had tried to flee from him, but it didn't work- for years, he just kept finding her.

She had tried to fight back, slip the yoke, change her name, cross the continent, change her appearance, but wherever she went, whoever she became, eventually all her attempts to create and keep distance had failed. Any attempt at a normal life, at love, at leaving the past behind, had failed: in a year, in a few months, sometimes in merely a few days, there was simply no escaping him. Flowers always wound up delivered to her door one night, while lovers mysteriously wound up dead, and she barely managed to escape capture herself by the skin of her teeth.

So eventually, she decided to hunt him in return.

By the time the story would start, she would have taken back her name once more, joined/formed an Order much like the Gur, and she now schemes against him, but the Ascendant (as he is best known by that time) just keeps slipping their grasp.

He taunts her, plays with her, but won't hurt her -after all, why would he destroy what he seeks to possess? Why would he even think to break his most precious toy? No, what he wants is her submission given willingly, it's her love back.

So he almost courts her, and she won't say this to anyone, but a part of her enjoys that.

It's a cat and mouse game once more, this mutual chase, this constant outwitting of each other, this... it feels almost like flirting once more. Embracing the chase, it feels at once like taunting the Ascendant, and merely playing, exchanging sweet little barbs with her Astarion.

And she knows she shouldn't enjoy it, she knows that if they ever come to clash she can't hesitate before plunging the stake into his chest, but gods.... isn't it just so much fun?

Anyway, I wrote like 800 words of a fic before I would have finally fallen out of the fugue-state, and realized that the concept is basically this Ady-poem (as translated by György Eszter):

"Hawk-love on the fallen leaves"

Setting out now. For Autumn are we heading, with wild shrieks of joy and pain are chasing one another: our wings are hurt and we’re a hawk-couple.   Fierce lovers, we’re fleeting the Summer. New hawk-wings are in fight and flutter and we eagerly kiss each other to death.   Up and down. Soaring from the Summer and then falling back, just a shivered flutter and the lovers’ combat ceases, with our wings in pieces.   Our very last and violent love-scene as it’s been. We tear each other’s flesh, defeated, and into the jade-green, crimson-coloured cushion of the Fall, there do we collapse, consummated.

(1906)

.......... So that's a whole thing now.

Like if I ever were to write A!A fic, this would be the kind of shit it'd be.

(there's another translation I found, but this one is more desperate, more reflective of the original, even though both are a little... off, from the original feel.)

[cto10121]

R&J Clown Takes Special Edition—Hamlet/Horatio Parallels and The Migratory Slash Fandom

In which I focus on one particular clown take and see if it at least gives me a couple of chuckles/insightful meta. Today’s R&J Clown Takes comes a relatively rare but definitely not unheard-of crossover I’ve seen pop up every so often—supposed Hamlet/Horatio and R&J parallels, particularly their death scenes.

But all right, OP, I’ll bite. Let’s investigate whether these parallels are warranted.

So in R&J, Romeo goes on a fulsome speech before he drinks the potion. His last words before drinking the potion are these:

Romeo. Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide,

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy seasick weary barque

Here’s to my love. [Drinks the poison]

O true apothecary,

Thy drugs are quick! Thus with a kiss I die.

He kisses Juliet, then dies. Juliet wakes up after Romeo ends himself, the Friar pleads with her to go with her, Juliet rejects him, he leaves, and says this:

Juliet. What’s here? A cup closed in my true love’s hand?

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end.

She then immediately tries to drink it. But it’s all gone.

Juliet. O churl!—drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them

To make me die with a restorative. [kisses Romeo]

Thy lips are warm!

Like Romeo, Juliet also kisses him. She then hears noise and decides to kill herself with Romeo’s dagger.

In the ~supposedly equivalent scene in Hamlet, Hamlet is dying from Laertes’ cut, and urgently tells Horatio explicitly to tell his story to the world.

Hamlet. Horatio, I am dead,

Thou liv’st. Report me and my cause aright

To the unsatisfied.

Horatio. Never believe it.

I am more an antique Roman than a Dane.

Here’s yet some liquor left.

Horatio rejects Hamlet’s request (or rather command), comparing himself to an ancient Roman than a modern Dane—as in, a subordinate soldier to his commander. He then aims to drink the potion.

Hamlet. As thou’rt a man,

Give me the cup. Let go. By heaven, I’ll ha’t!

Hamlet not only rejects Horatio’s attempted suicide but also tries to stop him verbally and (implied) physically, by throwing the cup away from him. He then repeats his injunction:

Hamlet. O God, Horatio, what a wounded name,

Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart,

Absent thee from felicity a while

And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain

To tell my story.

Hamlet’s “If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart” is clearly rhetorical, but it’s interesting that he still felt the need to ask him to mourn him and act as witness, as if he weren’t sure Horatio’s affection for him.

Apart from “there’s yet some poison/liquor” idea, I think it’s clear from these two death scenes that there is no true parallel. Romeo compares himself to a ship, a pilot, and explicitly calls Juliet his love. He dies on Juliet’s kiss. Juliet, waking up, tries to kill herself on his kiss before opting for the dagger. All throughout, the emphasis is on their love.

Meanwhile, Horatio compares himself to a Roman soldier, whose honor would compel him to commit suicide for his superior. Hamlet rejects the suicide but implicitly buttresses this general/lieutenant metaphor, giving him the command to “report” his story—like an actual general to his lieutenant. There is also a clear parallel/reference to Julius Caesar, written about a year before Hamlet, particularly Brutus’ commander’s honor suicide.

In any case, there are no kisses and unlike Juliet, Horatio does accept Hamlet’s command that he not kill himself (and, explicitly re:Hamlet, to “man up!”). For his part Hamlet is almost wholly concerned with his reputation, although he does acknowledge Horatio’s feelings and how difficult it would be for him to talk about his late friend.

If Shakespeare had wanted a true R&J parallel, one would assume he would have had Horatio drink the poison after Hamlet’s death. Or better yet, decide to use his dagger/sword and attempt to wound himself along with Hamlet, as Juliet did. But of course, that would have been OOC for Horatio, and go against the very quality Hamlet had praised him for—not being passion’s slave. Even his attempted suicide was logical—as in, it follows the logic of honor killing.

[thickskll]

⸺ * | closed starter for ⎯⎯ @rennisaturate ⸺ * | continued from here.

his confession had come out like word vomit, with no timely pauses to give kumara a chance to process the rambling coming out of his mouth then he was left with his racing heart and his growing anxiety - desperately trying to think of a joke or a random witty line to recover from the impending rejection. before his kind of 'exile' from his home country, henry had been in a relationship and its end caused him to be shipped across the ocean to live with family he hadn't spent time with in decades. the adjustment period was hard, a new timezone, a new culture, a new climate and shitty food was quite the culture shock and henry spent much of his first months in his room where things were most familiar. looking back on it now, it was hard to think when he last had an actual girlfriend - one that didn't finish off her text messages with death threats or had a failed attempt at blowing up his car when he broke things off, again. still, it wasn't his fault that his neighbour, who just so happened to be a government official, drove the same car as his. henry often thought of amanda and the part he played in the demise of their relationship, not that there was much he could do about it now. the night he met kumara was purely by chance, and henry didn't pay much attention to fate but felt that it was more than a coincidence that things just fell into place with her after one night together. she was reaching for him, her expression void of any mockery or disapproval, and he leaned in to meet her for a kiss. "okay, that was way cuter than what i said," he smiled against her lips as relief warmed his chest. "i love you, too" and it didn't feel at all odd to say it out loud, there was no apprehension or need to swallow his words when it came to her. returning to their game, which was gradually reaching its final round, "you know i've gotta keep you on your toes." out in the car park, henry had to be careful when it came to thinking about how to challenge kumara next. he didn't want to be mean and make it too hard but he didn't want it to be a total walk in the park for her either. "there's an ice cream shop at the other end of this parking lot. you've gotta drive to that side, blindfolded, so you'll be using me as your eyes..." thankfully, given the late hour, it was only them and two other cars with the ice cream store just a few hundred yards away. he shut the trunk and helped her out of the shopping cart. "you can sit in my lap and i'll do the pedals, all you have to do is steer...sounds easy enough, right?" that was how he made it sound yet the quirk of his lip and glint in his eye hinted at there being more to it. "..or, if it's too much, you can forfeit now and we'll get some ice cream then go back to your place.." he shrugged as he rounded his car to the driver's side. "it's all up to you, maple"