#feel free to ignore me I am just slowly losing my mind

[anxious-witch]

I swear uni is one big science experiment and is made to drive anyone with half a common sense insane

[loviingpedri]

one of his girls tonight - hector fort

prompt: he can’t get enough of you.

warnings: cursing, drinking, clubbing, suggestive content, grammar issues, not intense smut (viewer discretion is still advised)

please let me know if more since this is going to be a little explicit.

any italicized texts are lyrics

credits to owners for all images

what else do young adults do in their free time? party, of course.

nothing like a hot saturday night in barcelona when the city was awake as people went out.

“y/n! my sexy girl, let’s go!” going out with your friends at least once a month was a must. meeting new people, kissing strangers, waking up next to someone random.

everything felt like a fever dream. especially that one boy you shared an unforgettable kiss with. last month, you were drunk out of your mind. you met this one guy, he had brown fluffy hair and touched you in the right places. your friends always said you were gonna go home with him and make him yours for the night. until, a random girl walked up to you and slapped you. either you just made out with someone’s boyfriend or someone was a complete control freak over him.

you hoped to see him tonight. some reassurance of what happened last month. and if he’s single, maybe you’ll keep him wrapped around your finger this time.

“alright! i’m ready!” you grabbed your small purse that barely fit anything in it and ran into the uber with the 10 other people in it. “a bit crowded?” you laughed as some people were sitting on each other’s laps.

“anything to save money and not have a designated driver tonight. today’s the day where all hell will break lose.” going out with a group of people was safer, calmer, and more fun.

lately, your life had been hitting every single positive goal in life. you spent your days with the people who brought out the best. little did you know, you would meet the person who would see you inside and out.

getting out the car was a hassle. thanking the driver and running to show your ids to the bouncer. already pre-gamed at your tiny apartment, it was finally time to let loose.

“it’s fucking hot in here.” one of your dearest friends spoke to you as you tried to mingle on the dance floor.

“i just finished my makeup 20 minutes ago and i can feel it melting already.” you fanned yourself to keep composed.

“y/n, that guy keeps staring at you.” looking behind your shoulder. you saw the one and only boy, the one with the best lips you’ve ever felt on yours.

“holy shit. that’s the guy with the crazy girl that slapped me.” you looked at your friend in disbelief. he must’ve went out to the clubs a lot if you continued to see him.

“go up to him. i don’t see her around. ask him what that whole fight was about. take a shot though, you’re gonna need it.” turning around, you could already see his eyes going up and down from behind you. meeting with your friends at the bar and downing shots after shots. finally feeling the alcohol in your system, a new boost of confidence was found.

walking up to him, you spotted different girls surrounding him. as you got closer, he sat up straight and tried to distance himself. sitting down next to him, he sat there frozen.

“hey, aren’t you the guy from a few weekends back?” for a guy who seemed popular around the ladies, he seemed pretty fucking nervous around you.

“yeah i am. sorry about that slap. i don’t know what happened. she’s not my girlfriend by the way. just someone random.” he spoke so fast, fidgeting with his hands. considering you already made out with him, there was no reason for him to be scared.

“you seem very popular. met anyone you like?” he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. you listened closely to the song in the background as he tried to form an answer.

push me down, hold me down.

spit in my mouth while you turn me on. i wanna take your light inside.

“you. can’t ignore a pretty girl like you.” he began to play into your little game. slowly, you touched his shoulder and sat closer to him in a comfortable position.

“oh yeah? well, this ‘pretty girl’ has to know your name first.”

and i’m screamin’ out. give me tough love.

“my name is hector. yours?”

“i’m y/n. you have a little something on your neck.” spotting a red kiss-mark on his neck, obviously not from you, you smudged it off.

we don’t gotta be in love no. i don’t gotta be the one, no.

i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.

“wishing it was your lipstick?” he give a little grin, trying to rile you up. you looked at him, his way of words trying to get into your pants was working.

“i don’t need to wish.” within seconds, your lips happened to be on hector’s. your legs straddling him while he rubbed your thighs.

he knows how to get the best out of me.

his hands were grabbing your waist as you felt the material of his pants under you. he continued rubbing your thighs, but he slowly made it up to your ass. as you gasped for air, he decided it was a good time to slip in his tongue.

finally breaking the kiss, you hear him whimper for more even over the loud music. smiling at him, you made your way to his neck and jaw. you planted a few kisses here and there, then you could feel his hand start to go under your dress.

“not here, but i know a few places.” making eye contact, you already knew where this was going.

hector wanted to you to be his girl every night.

————————————————

author’s note: author gone wild. imagination got the best of me and i know this is not likely of my stories. let me know if i did good for these kind of storylines!

[dfortrafalgar]

Bring Your Daughter(s) To Work Day

Law x Fem Reader (kinda)

When the babysitter cancels last minute, Law is forced to bring his daughters to work with him, and deal with the emotions they unknowingly make him feel.

A/N: SURPRISE- BONUS CHAPTER FOR IMLY!!! this came to me suddenly and i hammered it out. this can be read as a standalone, but i wrote it with the intention of it being directly connected to the universe of my long form fic "I'm Losing You"

Warnings: nothing but pure fluff here, folks. established relationship, third person POV, reader is only present in the beginning and end of the story, some suggestive language sprinkled throughout but nothing explicit

[IMLY Masterlist]

Law watched with dejected eyes as his wife dropped her head into her hands, a harsh groan leaving her lips.  Under her breath, quiet enough so her kids couldn’t hear her profanity, she uttered, “Fuck.”

“Let me guess,” Law mumbled.  “She canceled?”

“This is the last time we use this babysitter,” she growled, turning off her phone and flipping it upside down so the screen faced the table, ignoring whatever incoming messages might appear.  “It’s going to be too late to find any sitters now, and their school doesn’t start for another week.  It’s not like we can just drop them off somewhere or leave them here alone.”  She picked up her gaze, her eyebrows furrowed in deep concern.  “Law… I can’t miss this interview.”

“I know, baby,” he whispered back, reaching his hand across the kitchen table to stroke her clenched fist.  “You’re not going to.”

“Do you have a plan, then?”

Law bit the inside of his cheek as he searched his mind for any feasible solution.  One of the biggest interviews of his wife’s career was on the following day, ever since she cordially parted with her last job after having their twins.  She spent the first year of their life physically recovering from the birth, as well as having her tubes tied to prevent any more reproductive issues, the couple happily deciding that they were fine with two children.  The following toddler years were spent at home with Cora and Rose, his wife being assisted by Uncle Shachi, Uncle Penguin, and Auntie Ikkaku whenever they were free.  On days where Law was out of work, he made sure his wife was completely hands-off, taking his daughters out so his wife could spend some much needed time alone or out with her own friends.  The two had a comfortable balance, allowing for ample time spent with each other, their daughters, as well as valuing their personal lives.  Law’s cardiothoracic surgeon salary was more than enough to afford comfortable living in their small house filled with two six-year-old girls and a dog, but he could tell his wife was desperate to get back to a working schedule again.  There was never an issue with having more income, after all, and the doctor knew his wife was never one for the stay-at-home lifestyle for the long-term.

“I’ll bring them with me,” he stated suddenly.  His face remained completely neutral.

“What?” she yelped, standing from her chair.  “Law, you can’t.  You’re a doctor.”

“I don’t have any operations tomorrow, and I’m only working 12 hours.  I’ll bring them with me when I leave at 9, and you can pick them up after your interview,” he explained.  “I have plenty of staff, and there’s a children’s room in the cardiac ward.  They’ll have things to do and people to talk to.”

His wife frantically searched her husband’s face for any sign of indifference or reluctance to his own claim.  Finding none, she slowly sank back into her chair.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You’re absolutely positive?”

“I am.”

“And you promise to not traumatize them?”

Law pursed his lips.  The week prior, he found his girls in the backyard poking a dead, gutted rabbit with a stick.  He didn’t think he had much to worry about.  “I promise.”

Finally letting her shoulders relax, his wife slumped over and rested her forearms on the kitchen table, plopping her head against them and shielding her face from the world.  A small chuckle exited Law’s lips as he stood and rounded the furniture, coming to rest behind his wife and placing his deft hands on her shoulders, massaging the knots out of her tired muscles.  She visibly relaxed even more from his touch, almost as if she was melting from the motions of his hands.

“You always know exactly what to do to make me feel better,” she sighed, tossing a glance at her smirking husband from over her shoulder.

“Everything’s going to work out.  You’ll do amazing at your interview, the girls will behave themselves at work, and we’ll all live happily ever after,” he hummed, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on the back of her head.

“Can you bring home ice cream tomorrow?” she asked, her voice finally regaining its light and airy demeanor as her sullen mood finally lifted.

“Of course.”

—

“Girls.”

Law’s stern golden eyes looked in the rear-view mirror, watching as Cora and Rose immediately snapped their attention to their father from the backseat.  Rose clenched a book in her small hands, well above her age’s reading level, while Cora fiddled around with the broken arm of a Stealth Black action figure.

“Remember to be on your absolute best behavior today, alright?” he stated firmly.  “I’ll be around to check on you both for most of the day, but when I’m not there, you need to be good for the nurses.”

“We know, daddy,” Cora chirped.  “Mama told us you’d be coming home with ice cream if we were good.”

“I’ll be coming home with ice cream regardless,” he replied, a small smile growing on his lips.  “But if you’re not good, you won’t be getting any.  It’ll just be for Mommy and I.”

He laughed as his daughters screeched from the backseat, flabbergasted at the mere insinuation that they might not get a share of any delectable treats.  Fondness welled in his heart as he listened to the twins bicker over their shared behavior.  Through their short six years on Earth, they had already grown into strong, individualistic young ladies who were practically inseparable.  Law cried on every single birthday.  They had turned him into quite a softie.

His foot gently depressed the break of his car as he turned into the sprawling hospital’s parking garage, driving up the ramps to the third floor and slipping into a parking space reserved for staff.  He diligently grabbed the large childcare bag from the passenger seat, slinging it over his shoulder before proceeding to free Rose from her restrictive (but very safe) car seat, followed by Cora, who clambered to get out of the car and holler into the echoing abyss of the parking garage, giggling at the way her voice bounced off the concrete pillars and walls surrounding her.  Rose held her hands over her ears, cringing at the sound.

“Get it out of your system now, baby, you can’t be yelling like that in the hospital,” Law uttered, grabbing each girl by the hand and slowly walking with them toward the hospital’s entrance connected to the parking garage by a small hallway and two elevator shafts.

Rose firmly gripped her father’s hand in her right, clutching her book in her left.  Cora skipped along, tripping over her feet, and sang into the air.  “Gather up all of the crew!  It’s time to ship out Binks’ brew!  Sea wind blows, to where?  Who knows!  The waves will be our guide!”

Rose mumbled, her small voice whiny and irritated.  “Cora, you’ve been singing that all day.”

“I love that song!” the younger girl retorted, almost stepping on Law’s foot.  “Uncle Luffy taught it to me.”

Law bit back a smirk, yet rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.  Leave it to that boisterous man to introduce his daughters to the life of high-stakes maritime activity.  He’d be lying if he said playing pirates with his girls wasn’t some of the most fun he’d had recently, however.  It only took a bit of a negative turn when Cora, pretending to be the infamous Blackbeard, landed a punch against Law’s groin so harsh it made him double over.  It wasn’t like she knew any better, but amidst his wife’s worried yet hysterical laughter, he wondered if that blow was enough to make him infertile.

He shrugged the thought into the back of his head, releasing Rose’s gentle hand to press the elevator button, leading his girls into the small space and watching in silence as the doors closed in front of them, carrying them down two levels to the cardiac ward.

“Daddy?” Rose asked, looking up at him.  “What do you do all day?”

Law pondered briefly.  “On days where I don’t have operations, I usually do rounds for patients.”

“What are rounds?” asked the curly-haired girl.  

“I go from room-to-room and assess each person’s health and how they’re doing,” he explained.

“Can we join you?” Cora suddenly asked, staring up at her father with her own large, golden eyes.

“I’m afraid not, sweetpea.”

The younger twin pouted before suddenly growing frazzled out of nowhere.  “I LEFT MY ACTION FIGURE IN THE CAR!!!”

Rose quickly covered her ears again at her sister’s shrill scream.

“We’ll get it later, baby,” Law tried to console.  He nervously glanced at the LCD screen above the button panel, about to reach the first floor.  “I can get it for you on my lunch break.  Can you wait until then?”

Cora’s face was growing flushed as she puffed out her cheeks, her eyes welling with heavy crocodile tears.  “But I want him now!  He’s going to die in the car!”

Law rubbed a hand over her hair.  “He won’t die.”

“He will!”

“I’ll save him before he does,” he said back.  “Shhh, keep your voice down, baby.”

Rose removed her hands from her ears with an audible, relieved sigh.  Cora was appeased… for now.  She’d have to deal with profound, inescapable boredom until noon, or at least until her mom came to pick the two up and save them from the children’s room at the hospital.

All things considered, the girls were fantastically behaved.  They watched on quietly as Law scanned his badge to enter the high-security corridors leading to the cardiothoracic ward, nodding a wordless hello to the various nurses and doctors who passed by, each offering fond, excited smiles to the young girls.  The long, winding hallways of the hospital were ginormous in comparison to the twins, who were used to the much smaller hallways of their kindergarten building, but they kept their hands in their father’s as he led them to his ward.

“Can you remember what I said in the car?” the surgeon asked, scanning his badge over one last electronic box on the wall, the click of the door’s lock signaling its opening.

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Rose obediently replied, more excited to be able to get back to her reading in peace.

“We promise,” Cora added.  She opened her small mouth one more time, as if to add a second thought, but quickly shut her jaw and stared straight ahead.  Law cocked an eyebrow at the display, but didn’t question it further.  If the little girl had an issue, she would immediately let him know.

There was a children’s room, which was really just a small space situated behind one of the nurses stations, used primarily for families with very small children.  When a person would be admitted to the cardiac ward, any potential juvenile visitors were welcome to use the children’s area to remove them from the otherwise clinical, scary environment of the hospital.  The entire space was stocked with coloring books, light reading for ages 4-10, building blocks, and other miscellaneous playthings, all thoroughly sanitized before and after each visit.

When Law rounded the corner into the doorway of the children’s area, Rebecca was crouched down on the floor, diligently wiping down a set of large plastic building blocks with a sanitizing wipe.  Her large, brown eyes glimmered as she saw Cora and Rose, having not seen them in quite some time.  It wasn’t like Law brought them to work often.

“There are the guests of honor!” sang the pink-haired woman, discarding the wipe into a nearby trash receptacle and hurrying toward her superior and his two excited daughters.  The girls pulled away from their dad and hugged Rebecca’s legs, instantly remembering the warm smile and bright laughter of the nurse who happily knelt to their level and pulled them to her chest.  “It’s so wonderful to see you two again!”

“Let me know if they give you any trouble, Rebecca,” Law sighed, smiling at the sight albeit scrunching his eyebrows at the potential his children had for causing petty issues.  They were their mother’s daughters, after all.  Their well-behaved exterior made room for some very sinister six-year-old schemes.

“How could these sweet angels cause any trouble at all?” Rebecca giggled, ruffling Rose’s head of thick, curly black hair.  “I will, though, sir.  No problem at all.”

“I’ll be back in about two hours for my short break.  Cora, Rose…” the surgeon called their names, alerting their attention once more.

The silence in the room was palpable as Law brought two of his fingers to his eyes, gesturing his hand toward their faces as if giving a silent threat that he had his eye on them, even if not in the same room.  He had a playful smirk on his face as he did so, leading Cora to stick her tongue out at her dad.  Rose gave her sister a light shove, harshly whispering about the ice cream reward still looming over their heads.

—

Two hours and far too many patient rounds finally came and went before Law was able to take a short break, proceeding to the children’s room with his ample amount of paperwork in an accordion binder held in his arms.  He’d be able to get some time to work on it while sitting on the floor at the squatted table while he gave his nurse a much needed reprieve from his daughters.  While marching through the long hallways of the cardiac ward, the surgeon pulled out his phone and smiled at the text that had come in from his wife, about 30 minutes prior.

Mama What do you think of this fit???  I mean, im going with it, but do i look hot and professional?

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama Right answers only.  Also, are the girls behaving alright???

His wife did indeed look stunning.  Her curves fit elegantly into a sharp, black pencil skirt that flared slightly below her knees.  Sheer tights complimented her supple skin, and sophisticated yet casual wedge heels boosted her height by a good inch or so.  She was posing in the mirror of their bedroom, one hip jutted out propping up her free hand that she graced over her waist.  A trendy blouse was tucked into the skirt, the top few buttons still undone.  Grinning down at his phone and holding his folder tighter against his abdomen, he fumbled to type out a response while walking.

You know you look stunning, baby.  Absolutely gorgeous.  You’re going to do up those top buttons, though, right?

He watched the incoming message bubble appear and disappear a few times before her response came in.

Mama Duh, i was just hoping that showing off some cleavage would give me extra points with you <3

Law fought to bite down the chuckle that rose in his throat, not wanting to attract attention. As long as I get to undo those buttons later.  He was feeling bold today.

Mama Ice cream first, sex later.  Love you baby <333

Law quickly shoved his phone into his pocket after thumbing out a quick good luck message for her upcoming interview, which she was surely traveling to at that very moment.  He pushed open the door to the children’s room, quickly pushing back any inappropriate thoughts of his beautiful wife and smiling at the sight of his daughters.

Cora was in the middle of utilizing every single building block the room had to build a convoluted structure that took a plethora of odd shapes.  She was being assisted by another young girl who’s curious violet eyes watched inquisitively at each new block added to the structure.  Rose was in the adult-sized chair across the room, her nose buried in a new book.  Judging by her original book on the floor by the legs of the chair, she had finished that one after only two days.  A new literary record.  Rebecca was absent from the room, most likely having left to continue her own duties, but judging by the faint smell of light cleaning alcohol in the room, she hadn’t been gone long.

With a smile, Law sat on the floor across from his daughter’s, and the new girl’s, strange structure.  “What are you building?”

“A submarine.  Can’t you tell?” Cora replied, placing a pink-colored block on top of an ominously leaning stack.

The new girl, who’s hair was a deep shade of purple, stared at Law with huge, curious eyes before a cheeky grin broke out on her face.  “Are you the doctor taking care of my papa?” she asked.

Law grinned.  “Could be.  Who’s your papa?”

“Tenguyama Hitetsu,” she confirmed cheerily.  “Well, he’s not actually my papa, but he also is.”

A lightbulb clicked on in his head.  He had just been in Mr. Tanguyama’s room, and had no idea that the elderly man had any child under his care.  It was then he remembered that the man had described a young girl as his ‘student’ rather than ‘daughter,’ but he still spoke about her with such fond language.  Kurozumi Tama.

“Tama’s been helping me build,” blurted Cora, bringing herself to her feet to place another block on the tower attached to what was supposed to be a submarine.

“You two make a good team,” Law replied fondly as he turned his attention to his oldest daughter.  “Rose, what are you reading?”

Her new book was substantially thicker than the one she brought with her.  There were no pictures on the cover.  She tilted the object down only slightly to speak with her father.  “Rebecca brought it for me when I asked.  It’s a book about common heart conditions in adults.”

Somehow, Law was not surprised.  He didn’t even question it, watching as the black-haired girl turned her attention back to her book, disregarding any potential response from her father.  Without another word, and without wanting to distract the kids from their intense focus, he scooted across the floor to the squatted table and opened his accordion folder, flipping through his paperwork to pass his two hour break, counting his blessings that he had such easy, albeit… strange, children.

He couldn’t stay focused long enough to begin filling out his patient charts, however.  Especially not when he was swarmed with thoughts about his family.  As he picked his gaze up and glanced across the room at his daughters immersed in their own little worlds, happy as clams in their special ways, he couldn’t fight the swelling in his heart.  His wife, after worlds of difficulty, had given him two of the greatest gifts of his life.  Those gifts were now six years old, about to start first grade, reading above their level, building and drawing, holding conversations, and were filled with boundless love.  They hadn’t yet reached the age where they were embarrassed to hold hands with their dad in public, and they were still too young to fully understand the world around them, but it was clear as day to the surgeon that his little girls were bound to learn the tough realities of their lives sooner rather than later.  It made his chest pang thinking of how quickly they had grown up.  It felt like just yesterday that Law was by his wife’s side in the delivery room, finally holding his babies after they were allowed to leave the NICU, happy, healthy, and already beginning to babble and whine for their next feeding.  He remembered looking at his wife, the woman of his dreams, who had gone through far more than any human should in bringing these girls into the world, kissing her lips and thanking her, thanking whatever deity was in the heavens that she was still alive and well.

“Daddy?”

Rose’s voice broke Law from his trance, his sharp golden eyes darting up to meet hers.  The book was folded in her lap, her hands tracing the embossed letters on the hard cover.  

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice small and concerned.

A lump developed at the base of Law’s throat.  His girls looked so much like his wife.  He forced the rock down his esophagus and smiled at his little girl.

“I’m just fine, sweetpea.”

—

Law had needed to stay for an extra hour and a half after his shift was supposed to end, much to his distaste.  After his close-call to an emotional outburst that afternoon, he wanted nothing more than to run home, embrace his wife in a hug, and cuddle with her on the couch with the ice cream that he had promised her.  When he was finally able to slip into his car, the backseats empty (save for the Stealth Black action figure that was completely forgotten about by noon) with Cora and Rose having been picked up by their mom, he pulled out his phone to send his wife a text only to find that she had sent him one first.

Mama Look how tuckered out they are!!!

Mama [1 Image Attachment]

Mama What did you do to them???  LOL

The image was immediately saved to Law’s camera app.  Cora and Rose were curled up on the plush carpet in their living room on both sides of Bepo who was sprawled out on his back.  Their little arms wrapped around the dog’s torso, their faces squished into his warm, white fur as they snoozed in one conjoined unit.  He quickly tapped out a text that he was coming home, placing his phone in his bag and proceeding out of the parking garage as quickly as he could.  With the only places still open at that hour being the gas station, he stopped at the nicest one in town and picked up three pints of ice cream, as well as a few extra treats to surprise the girls with when their new friend, Tama, came over for a playdate in a few days.

When Law finally entered his house, the only light still on was the lamp beside the couch.  All the curtains were drawn, shrouding the living room in a pleasant, dim warmth.  His wife was on the couch, laying back with her phone in her hand.  She quickly stood up when Law entered, excitedly yet quietly closing the gap between them and capturing her husband’s lips in a tender kiss.  He cheekily took the freezing bag containing the ice cream and pressed it against the thin cotton t-shirt she wore to bed, cooling her skin and making her suppress a surprised yelp.  She giggled as she playfully batted Law’s chest.

“You tease!” she whispered.  “I don’t wanna wake the girls.”

“With the way they were sleeping in that picture, I doubt we’ll wake them up,” he replied, his voice low as his lips stole another kiss, lingering a few moments longer.  His heart fluttered at the feeling of his wife smiling into his gesture, her hands trailing over his chest, shoulders, and up into his fluffy black hair.

When she pulled away, he finally noticed the blouse she still wore, all the buttons done up.  “Good, because you still have to take this off of me.  I’m uncomfortable.”  She snatched the bag out of his hands, procuring her own pint of ice cream.  “After this, obviously.”

“Of course, of course.”  Law followed her lead, grabbing his own treat after placing his other goods into the freezer and following his wife to the couch with two spoons in hand.  Bepo was on his dog bed snoring up a storm, which he had been doing much more often in his older age.

“How did your interview go?” he finally asked, smiling as his wife snuggled into his size, using a blanket to grip her ice cream without freezing her hand.

“I think it went well, I was so nervous, though.  I had to apply an extra layer of deodorant in the car because I was sweating so much,” she explained.  “But the manager seemed pleased with my resume.  And she knew Ms. Boa, so hopefully that means my recommendations will be worth it.”

Law held her close while opening his own ice cream.  “I’m sure it will be.  You’re a shoe in for that position.”

“You’re just saying that,” she mumbled, taking a spoonful of the frozen treat.

“You like when I say things,” Law replied with a smirk on his lips.

She sunk further into his chest, letting his warmth embrace her.  Her mind swirled with images of the man, when they started dating, when he proposed, on their wedding night, in the hospital multiple times, holding his daughters… the woman blinked away fond tears and swallowed her emotions with another hefty spoonful of ice cream.

“What are you thinking about, gorgeous?” asked the man behind her, his voice gruff and tired from a long day in the hospital.

“Nothing…” she mumbled back, hiding her face in his neck.  “Just how lucky I am to have you.”

[chvoswxtch]

hi! could i request a fic where frank is helping reader with urges to relapse in s3lf h@rm? or maybe they already relapsed? if this is not something you’re comfortable writing please feel free to just ignore this :) i’m struggling w/ this lately so it’s just self indulgent for me lmao and your writing is ADDICTIVE. you have such a talent and i hope you’re doing well!! x

my sweet sweet sweet nonnie. I am sending you all the love I possibly can. I am so sorry that you are struggling. I know what it's like to struggle with this, and I promise you it does get better. I know everyone says that and sometimes those words can sound so hollow, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. it can't rain all the time darling 🖤

I hope you are doing well today, and I hope this brings you the comfort that you need. thank you for trusting me with this, and know that I love you and am so proud of you

just a quick psa to everyone on my frank taglist, because this is such a sensitive topic, i'm not tagging anyone in this one. if you are not comfortable with this topic or if it could be triggering for you, please sit this one out. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise.

warning: mentions of depression & self harm word count: 775

let it out.

Frank noticed everything. He was trained to look for subtle clues of threats everywhere, to anticipate them and quickly conjure a counterattack, or eliminate them before they even got a chance to strike. After that tragic day in Central Park, his sense of hypervigilance only became even more extreme. 

Which is why he knew that things were getting bad for you again.

He could see it. That bright sparkle in your eyes that could put the stars to shame grew more and more dim until it was nothing more than achromatic ash. The heaviness weighing down on your chest that turned the subconscious act of breathing into a relentless struggle and made your movements lethargic was like an astral presence only his eyes could detect. He could hear it in your voice, the melodic warmth replaced by an echoing numbness. It seemed as though each day another of your vibrant petals withered and fell until you were rendered a bare and hollow stem.

It killed Frank to see you like this. He wanted so badly to help, he just didn’t know how. You wouldn’t talk to him about it, wouldn’t tell him what you needed. But he didn’t get upset with you, because he figured you might not even know what you needed. He was growing increasingly worried because nothing he was doing seemed to help at all. Fear was an emotion Frank very rarely experienced, but he was terrified that he’d lose you to your own cruel mind. 

Things were bad right now, but it would pass. You’d fallen from the clouds of progression, backsliding until the cold hard impact of relapse bruised and rattled your bones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back up again. It didn’t erase all the breakthroughs in your recovery. And if you couldn’t make it back up on your own, Frank would carry you himself.

Frank sat with you in the bath, enveloping you in the comfort of his body and the hot water, hoping it would soothe you. Taking care of yourself had become as hard as getting out of bed, but it was okay. He could help you with that. He’d washed your hair, taking his time to massage your scalp before gently rinsing the shampoo out completely. His large and calloused hands slowly and tenderly lathered your skin in the suds of your body wash, not missing a single inch of you. 

Your face was as blank as a pure canvas, but there was raw sorrow in your eyes and agony building up along your lash line. Frank held onto you tightly, tracing your self-inflicted scars with the pad of his thumb, applying pressure with each stroke while he spoke quietly in your ear.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you ain’t gotta let it out that way. You can get the hurt out without hurtin’ yourself. You gotta feel it, sweetheart. I know you don’t wanna, I know it feels like it’s too much, but you can’t distract yourself with a different kinda pain. It ain’t gonna make this one go away.”

Frank knew you were listening. He could see the saltwater slipping down your cheeks, your expressionless face slowly morphing into a portrait of unrefined grief. He pressed his lips softly to each of your scars, holding you even tighter in a protective embrace.

“It’s gotta heal from the inside, baby. I know it’s hard, but you ain’t gotta do this alone. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just let go, I got you.”

He could tell that you were fighting it. That you were scared once you opened that door, a tidal wave of misery would devour you entirely and trap you beneath the current until you drowned, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. His deep voice was laced with sincerity and promise as he spoke into your ear again.

“I got you.”

The choked sob that caught in your throat broke his heart. The wail that tore from the depth of your soul was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Your shoulders shook from the impact of your overwhelming emotions, but when you shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, Frank was there to collect them all. He’d patiently help you put them all back together, no matter how long it took. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently rocking you as he soothingly ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a reverent kiss to the crown of your head.

“There ya go, that’s it. Let it all out, sweetheart. Take as long as ya need, I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let it all out.”

[spirit-lanterns]

Elaborate? Don't mind if I do. I want to be on my knees under their desk with a grin on my face as I gently rub my hands up and down over their jeans- just palming and pressing at first while they try to ignore me and focus on their game. Slowly getting them harder until it presses on their jeans and has to be let free with a satisfying zip. Then I start to gently play through their underwear, grazing the fabric up and down, making them shiver with each brush under their tip. I'd tell them to keep their mic on as I yoink their underwear off and start to trail my tongue up with a warm huff that washes over their cock, getting them all nice and ready. Having them try their best to focus on their game and not alert anyone to just how good I'm making them feel as I keep teasing them with heavy breaths. Closer and closer they get until I decide they've been a good enough girl and finally take their length into my mouth, circling the tip with my tongue at first. Slowly I give them more and more as they try their best to focus, and right as they get to a critical moment-- I finally get them to cum and lose at whatever they're playing, right down my throat.

in other words: I game on their girl til they gloop

When I tell you I salivated a little imagining this…

I imagined this with either Stelle or March, but you can picture this with any HSR woman of your choice! Personally I am just in love with the idea of giving little kitten licks to their tip and watching as their back arches stiffly from the way your lips brush over their skin. You’re not full on blowing them off yet, just teasing them with your lips and tongue as your gamer girlfriend winces and tries to keep her calm by focusing on the game.

It’s not until you start bobbing your head down lower that you notice her resolve starting to break down like a dam. You can progressively see her cock get more stiff, the tip a lot brighter with all the blood rushing through their shaft, and the way your girlfriend is drooling a bit (from both heads) has you know she’s almost reaching the end of the “level.”

When you know she’s close to beating one particularly hard boss, that’s when you give it your all. Incorporating both your hands and mouth as you give your gf the best blow/handjob of your life. It certainly works when she shoots a thick load down your throat, but your victory is her failure, as the big “you’re dead” screen flashes at your girlfriend, who’s panting from her climax and also her frustration.

Expect her hands to grip your scalp rather harshly, pouting down at you with the cutest expression you’d ever seen. That brief moment of cuteness doesn’t last long however, as your girlfriend will suddenly shove you back down to clean her length after all the mess you left on her dick…

Who’s gonna tell her you still won this round?

[cheshirebitch]

𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕘

Alastor x Reader (Oneshot)

It has been sixteen whole days since I last had a conversation with Alastor. It made me feel like I needed a cigarette or two because no matter how long I resist the temptation, I will always lose. Sixteen whole days since I last saw how he can have a genuine smile, how soft he could get, feel his gentle touches, and oh my stars do I miss it.

I walked past him again as he walked the other way in the hotel, our shoulders almost brushing each other. Both our eyes remained looking forward as we ignored each other’s existence. I wanted to stop walking and turn to look at him. It was just a small glance that I was wishing for but my mind wouldn’t allow it. Instead, I tightened my hold on the papers in my hand as I carefully walked to my office, softly closing the door behind me. As my fingers drifted down the black wood door, all I could think of was all the times he carefully drag his claws against my skin, the feeling of his human hands pushing my hair out of the way for him to put a necklace on me, the feeling of him braiding my hair after a hard day.

A tear dropped onto my cheek, cold and damp. Then another dripped down.

“Why can’t I let go of this?” I have done the math over and over in my head, there was just no way for him to ever consider us again. It was all just a misunderstanding but his stupid stubbornness and thick headed nature is blocking it.

My black leather chair squeaked slightly as I dragged myself towards my desk covered in papers. I slowly sorted through them all as I let my brain wander to old memories of Alastor and I. Sniffling and the sound of papers moving sounded loud without the sound of his broadcast in my office. My eyes landed on the radio in the corner of my room, and as I stared at it, I realized it was just as painful to see. My fingers were holding it tightly and before I knew it, I placed it on the ground outside of my office. When I stood up, Alastor was rounding the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. My tear stained face, his radio I used to always only have on his radio broadcast, and my shaky hands. A deep breath of air and a small sad smile as I gently shut my office door again.

My head rested on the door as I closed my eyes and cried silently for a moment, turning back around to continue my paperwork. Then he was standing behind my desk, his staff abandoned in the corner of the room where his radio once was. But as I glanced, I noticed the radio was back.

“Mon Cher…” It was his normal voice, the one I missed so dearly from our days alive. My lip quivered and chills ran down my body. He tensed at my reaction.

”Mi Amor…” Red claws tightened their hold, his back straightening before all of it melted out of his body. His smile twitched.

“It hurts to be something, but it’s worse to be nothing with you.” I breathed out, referencing how we have been treating each other.

“I apologize for causing unnecessary heartache, Mon Cher. I’m willing to listen if you’ll allow it.” My hands twitched, should I? It has been painful for him to just feel betrayed by me, for not understanding when I first tried to explain everything. I just didn’t want him to feel guilty but instead I ripped us apart.

”Will you listen this time or am I better off trying to get back into heaven?” His eyes started to switch into two emotions, regret and sadness. He walked around the desk and slowly reached his hand out to my cheek, wiping a stray tear.

”Please.” Patient crimson eyes danced with my scared eyes.

”When I saw you get shot and mauled by those hunting dogs, I fought the hunter. I begged him to call off his dogs, that you were a human and not a wild animal. By the time we got the dogs pulled off of you, you just didn’t look like you. It was- it was horrible.” My voice broke at the word horrible. My fingers played with his free hand as he was running his other in my hair.

“I tried begging the paramedics to bring you back, even though I knew there was nothing they could do. My heart shattered and remained broken till the day I died, three months after your death. I went out to where you died every night. That’s where I met the same fate as you, I got shot by another hunter.” A breathy laugh left my body as Alastor’s lip curled up in anger towards the hunter who took my life, knowing that bastard was also in hell with us.

”When I woke up, I was in heaven. I got to talk to your mother. She really was as lovely as you described, and boy does she miss her son.” Alastor’s mean mug face wiped into one of grief. I knew how much he loved his mother and wished we could have met.

“After a couple months searching for you in heaven, I found out you were in hell. Then, when I begged to be sent to hell, they refused relentlessly. That was till I found out how to become a fallen angel, and I fell. I’m so sorry, Mi Amor. I should’ve told you the day I fell. I should’ve searched harder for you before I tried to make a deal with Vox.” Tears were falling from my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel that anxiety and heartbreak all over again. The man in front of me didn’t look like my Alastor but still did in an evil way. My hands held his face in mine. Alastor gripped me into a tight embrace as he held me.

“I forgive you for not speaking the truth sooner dear, but please never leave my side again. If you have to ever sell your soul, make sure it is only to me.” I nodded my head as I breathed in his cologne. I missed it for so many months, months that felt like years. My wings spread out behind me before wrapping themselves around Alastor and I.

“I missed you so much.” I whispered against his chest. He kissed my forehead before whispering back, “I missed you most, Mon Cher. Forgive me for being a stubborn old stag.”

(As always, characters belong to their owner and the story belongs to me. If you have any requests or ideas, send them over :)! Just a short angst Drabble I thought of while listening to the song ‘Promise’ by Laufey. I will gladly try to write things for my supporters! Thank you for the love and have a great day <3!)

[devilmademewriteit]

completely inspired by a gif set u reblogged. Javi helping you into a bullet proof/tactical vest. you’re scared and he just says a gentle “arms up” as he secures the velcro. he’s scared as well, doesn’t wanna lose you, doesn’t want you to get hurt. but it’s like the fear, the adrenaline, has your emotions haywire and you look into his eyes as he takes hold of your hand so gently and tells you that you’re gonna be okay, and you just want to kiss him, and he wants to kiss you too, but then it’s time to go, and he tells you “later”

IDK WHAT THIS IS LMFAO Javi brings the slut outta me

you’ve inspired me anon here is a TINY FIC/DRABBLE YEEEEEEEE

pairing: javier peña x fem!afab!reader

warnings: fem!afab!reader; use of pet name ‘sweetheart’; canon-typical allusions to violence; language; ANGSTY POO

omg I can’t believe there’s no smut. GUYS I WROTE SOMETHING WITHOUT SMUT. I loooove writing my javi tho so while im busting my ass working on Salvatore part 3 feel so free to leave me lil thingies like this.

-em<3

—

“Hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have, but—”

It was never supposed to be like this.

It was just a summer job — something safe, boring, admin and agendas and addendums. Should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city.

She should’ve known better, taking a government job in the world’s most dangerous city. Shit. My chest feels like it’s on fire, burnin’ through kerosene.

Is she gonna clock how unsteady I am?

Javi’s footsteps echo down the nearby hallway; you recognize them immediately, and their slanted, hard-right-drag-left rhythm. He comes lumbering through the door, cradling tactical gear between his big, bulging biceps. God, you’d had… thoughts about those biceps.

Even now, with the embassy under cartel-siege, it’s oh-so-hard to push away the x-rated daydreams swirling inside your stress-addled mind.

And he doesn’t look scared.

Fuck, she looks so scared.

“Here,” he says, extending the protective vest towards you. Gingerly peeling your hips off of the desk at your back, you extend your fingers to greet and grab at the rough, thick canvas. The sheer weight of it makes your heart lurch into your throat. Neither one of you lowers your hands.

The dark-green-death-sweater you’d seen him wear so many times, cursing yourself for registering, for caring about what it meant.

That it meant Peña — schmoozing, cocky, effortlessly crude Javier Peña — was going into the field.

So neither of you let go.

The stupid vest had always served as a kind of divining rod, leading you both to the real source of your constant bickering, your irritation and the look of mutual, unabashed worry you had shared as a soldier came bursting into the office, panting in tune with the sirens, carrying news of the currently unfolding attack.

Caring without meaning to.

Giving a shit without wanting to.

“I-“ you swallow, trailing off, cursing the swelling bubble forming at neck-breaking speed inside your throat, “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Of course she doesn’t. That one’s on me. ‘Thing like her should never have to wear one of these.

Shouldn’t even have to see one of these.

“S’okay,” he mutters, taking the burden of the gear into his hands, brow furrowing into a look of delicate responsibility. “Turn around.”

Under different circumstances, those words might’ve (embarrassingly enough) enticed a very different feeling from you.

Now, they were simply effective.

Acceding, you rotate, painfully slowly as every hair along your spine lifts, one after the other. Peña shuffles, adjusting both himself and the gear to stand close — too close — behind you.

“Arms up, sweetheart.”

You listen, dragging your arms up into the static air, trying to ignore the soft edge in his voice. It reminds you of something.

Something like resistance.

Stifled want.

Desire with a sock shoved down its bone-dry throat.

And it’s so level, so calm. How is he so calm?

Can she tell I’m totally freaking out?

Your shoulders sag under the weight of the vest. Jesus. It’s so much heavier than you’d imagined. Not quite as heavy as the feeling of doom settling over you, grief from the naive sense of safety you’d walked into work with.

Just this morning.

Javi busies himself with the Velcro, uncharacteristically silent. His knuckles brush the insides of your wrists, and you try to resist it — God, you really do — but all efforts to keep those prickling tears at bay are undertaken in vain.

You quiver slightly, face burning in shame.

Is she shaking?

Gentle, unusually gentle when his fingers wrap around your upper arm, spinning you around to face him once more.

“Look at me.”

You do. His shadowed eyes swim, dance, rage with experience, and you’re left envious, wishing that you’d hardened yourself to the world in the same way. How many times had this man woken up, driven to work, drunk his morning coffee and smoked his morning smoke, accepting that it could be his last?

Knowing Peña, he probably found ways not to think about it.

For sure, he didn’t think about it.

But you did.

Every time that vest came out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?”

It’s an almost whisper, a mere brush of air against your brow. His own creases in earnestness as he utters the pledge.

“How can you do this for a living?”

You don’t mean for it to come out so rough and jagged, hissing for help like a neglected kettle on the stove. Javi offers you a smile of understanding as though remembering his own first time.

Then, before either of you can stop it, he places the flat of his palm to your cheek.

And you can’t keep from noticing how easily the calloused pad of his thumb molds to your complying skin.

“You get used to it,” he returns, and every word is coated, soaked in the sad, tragic truth. “Though this part’s always hard.”

Nothing exists beyond the smell of tobacco on his breath and the total absorption in his eyes. You’re sure the latter is mirrored in your own, too.

Timid, uneasy, begging him to ease the discomfort for you. “What part is this?”

The part where I lie to you. The part where I bubble-wrap the only thing in this country worth protecting into a shitty, almost useless accessory of war.

The part where I remember—

Is it the part where we remember how easily we could lose each other?

And we don’t even have each other, for God’s sake. Lookin’ up at me as if she can trust me, and the only thing I’ve been able to trust for years is that the moment will come, that moment where it all just gets to be too much and fuck—is this it? Maybe—

This is the part where we—

Kiss her, God, I just wanna fuckin’ kiss her—

Kiss?

“Peña! Time to move!”

Murphy’s voice slices — easily — through the tentative moment of uncertainty. It erodes the softness of Javi’s features into that familiar, hardened stone.

His hand drops from your face, but the tracings linger.

If you couldn’t trust the world outside, maybe you could trust Javi inside. Maybe he’d learned to live without something to lean on, but you weren’t yet prepared to go on—

She doesn’t know how much I fuckin’ need her. Or how many times I’ve tried to say it—and in so many ways—but every time I open my goddamn mouth it just comes out… wrong. Like it’s not enough. Like it’s not true that I can finally fuckin’ breathe when she’s… just… existing around me. Like losing her wouldn’t mean goin’ on—

Faithlessly. Radically accepting the confusing, overwhelming uncertainty of the world.

He clears his throat.

“I’ll see you after.”

Your gaze tumbles down, averting the twinge of dishonesty in his own at his promise.

“Yeah—yeah, see you after.”

He backs away without turning. For a moment, you think he’s gearing up to say something. Something like he always says, like, don’t be a fuckin’ idiot, or use your head or maybe even a smile, sweetheart.

But he doesn’t. He just shakes his head, his dark hair tumbling around and exaggerating his hesitation. Although it hurts, you force yourself to watch as he walks away. How he bows his crown, brings a hand up to anxiously rub at the side of his jaw, the roundness of his shoulder responding and near-bulging under the blue cotton.

Admittedly, a kiss from Javier Peña would’ve been nice.

But to be cradled between those arms, wrapped up in him instead of the goddamn tactical gear squeezing, robbing the air from your lungs…

That would’ve been it.

When this is all over, you think to yourself.

And as Javi greets Steve, apologizing for the delay, the hand squeezing his gun feels strangely empty, haunted by the novelty of touching your burning skin.

When this is all over, he thinks to himself.

Anyways, isn’t that what faith is? Making plans for later, as if anyone’s ‘later’ is promised, a guarantee? As if either of you could count on tomorrow?

Yeah, that’s gotta be it.

Joining the gaggle of scared, hopeless government employees, desperate for reassurance, for the realization blooming inside the depths of your knowing; you pause, letting it hit you, translating it into words…

“—I have it.”

—

[oceansssblue]

i saw your echo work with his fallen Jedi coming to him as a force ghost and oH MY. it was so amazing!!!!! your writing never disappoints! made me FEEL HAPPY FEELINGS

now I am wondering how it would go down with tech, especially if they were in an established relationship that maybe only the batch knew about because she knows they won't snitch to the council?

sorry if you don't want to write the same thing again, please feel very free to ignore

Hi sweetheart! I was initially going to decline your request, cause I don't wanna cry anymoree and I felt it would be writing the same thing, but then my mind shot some ideas back at me and you were so sweet and kind with your comments I decided to go with it. It's a bit short but hope u like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"HOW TO GRIEVE"

TECH/F READER 📩💔(💖)

WARNINGS: Death of f reader, female reader appearing as a Force ghost, sad grieving feels explicit descriptions, almost pannick/anxiety attack, comforting conversations and cuddle piles, rest of the batch comforting too. Tried to end it in a soft positive note. Strap in!

Tech had been taught many –many– things in his life time. How to memorise scaring amounts of information, how to hack into security systems, how to fix, how to pilot... No one had ever taught him how to grieve, though; and with the Batch not being very close to any of the regs, as Crosshair insisted on calling them, your death had completely pulled him off his feet. To such lost came the added effect of not losing "just" a friend; but a partner as well. He would no longer be able to close his eyes and press your foreheads together in an attempt to center himself when everything around him became too much. He would not be able to kiss you or hold you in his arms anymore; feel that wonderful conection when the two of you made love, eyes sparkling and focused in each other with quiet reverent whispers breaking the silence of the room while your souls almost seem to talk too. He would never... He would never, ever, ever, see you again. And that...

Tech's resolve finally broke and he crashed down into the floor in a loud, heartbreaking sob. He squeezed his eyes shut. Both of his hands flew up; one to press against his heart and the other one to unconsciously scratch at his throat, almost as if he were trying to pull the knot that had quickly taken residence there out and off. He couldn't cope with it. His breaths turned into crying gasps and trembling pants. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't...

"Tech" a harsh tone quickly snapped him out of his loop of hurt and wallowing desperation, and he quickly glanced upwards, eyes begging for help, only to find...

You. Your...

"F-force ghost?" He quickly guessed out loud, his voice a shattered breath forcebly expulsed from his aching lungs.

You nodded gently. You kneeled beside him; slowly, as if he were a frightened creature that could turn to hide himself further if you spooked him suddenly.

You place your hand in his back, even if you know he wouldn't be able to feel it.

"H-how?" He gasps, eyes still teary, hands finding purchase against the floor now.

You smile in silence. Always so curious, your Tech.

"I can't answer that. I don't even know how to explain this transition. It's..." your brow furrows. "A mix between real and not, consciensce and not, I was seeing things and nothing at the same time, feelings were..."

You shake yourself with a tiny guilty smile, and Tech nods. Maybe human mind's are just incapable of reproducing and completely understanding the mistery that is the Force; they only get tiny snips of it. He feels his heart slowly returning to it's usual rythim. He moves and flops to sit on the floor, knees crossed.

He takes a deep breath. No one had taught him to grieve; but he had read about it, saved the information like every other thing he learnt by himself in case it came up being useful. A part of him always knew he would be forced to experience this at some point or another; he just wished it hadn't had to be you.

"You should'nt have tried to save me. Should have let me die" he says, voice almost a whisper, but a surprisingly firm whisper at that. "There's millions of me. Kaminoans would have no trouble creating a perfect replica. You... You're just one".

Your eyes turned sad, your almost invisible hand trying to caress his arms. He tracked the movement with an involuntary pout on his plump lips; lips you'd never be able to kiss again. Oh, how you desperately wished...

"Don't say that" you replied, voice soft and gentle. "You know I never liked hearing you say that. You're so special, Tech, such a beautiful person. I didn't fall in love with any of your brothers, any other clones. I fell in love with you, just you, because you're your own wonderful person. I love you so much, Tech. Like i never thought i would love someone else".

Your words causes Tech's emotions to pull into two different directions, making his mind feel like a mess. For one part, it hurts him so much to hear that, knowing he won't be able to continue sharing that love with you anymore; but it also soothes his pain, like a soft blanket of warmth and comfort made of your pure, selfless love for him is being gently placed upon his shoulders.

Tech gives you a sad, trembling smile and carefully extends his hands towards you. It hovers between your body shapes before he lets it fall down dejectedly, thumping strengthless against the floor.

"How am I supposed to carry on without you?" he asks, in a whisper, an almost innocent look on his face and eyes.

Tech has no answer for this, no matter all that he's learnt and investigated. He's utterly, completely lost in this.

You smile at him, softness conveined in your expression even in this ghost state.

"You have your brothers to help you. To take care of you" you tell him, gentle, patiently, almost like a mother would comfort a child. "It'll take time, but you will carry on. At one point the pain will turn more nostalgic than raw, and you'll..."

You hesitate, your own feelings not completely real in this Force ghost state –more soothed, dampened, taken care of– but still there; you take a breath –well, you make the gesture to do so– and continue.

"You won't forget me, us... But I promiss, you'll be okay."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Half an hour later finds you both laying down on Tech's bunk on the Batch's barraks. You've been whispering to each other almost nonstop for the first twenty minutes or so –remembering and laughing about happy or silly times together, confessing things you always wanted to say to the other but never felt brave enough–. The last ten have been spent on silence, though; your faces close to each other as if you could both feel each other's warmth; memorising every inch of the other's face. You're glad your Force ghost looks like a peacefull version of yourself, not the last one tainted by blood and the grieves of years of war.

The door opens and different set of steps freeze on their way to their own bunks. It's obvious; everyone's shocked.

"Hey, guys" you chuckle, pulling yourself up from your place in Tech's cot. "Yeah, I'm a Force ghost now".

No one laughs or chuckles at your obvious dead-pan. Wrecker's eyes fiñl with tears inmediately, while Echo gulps down his sorrow and Crosshair glances to the side guiltily. Hunter's eyes flicker between Tech and your bluish figure and clenches his jaw before looking down.

"It's none of your fault" you quickly correct their thoughts. Such selfless, honorable men, this ones. "Please don't ever think that. Now... i can't be here for long. I don't really know how this works, but I can feel the Force trying to pull me elsewhere. I don't know when or if I will be able to come back. Tech..." you glance at him, his expresion closed of and quiet, tears dried on his cheeks, now. Almost looking composed. "Needs your help. He's not okay, though I am perfectly aware he'll try to cover that" you smile at him, softly. "I think it would be a good idea to get him into one of your cuddle piles".

Everyone nods firmly, and almost as if you've given them an order yourself, they sprint in action, quickly throwing down all the cots on the free space on the floor and pushing them together into one big bed enough to house them all. Tech doesn't have strength to move, to react much; he's not ready to talk about this with his family, yet, but it doesn't matter. Wrecker carries him carefully and places him in the middle of the cots; the rest of them quickly taking their spot on his sides. Hunter presses closer to him while –surprisingly– Crosshair lays on Tech's other side; Echo taking his spot besides Hunter and Wrecker on the oposite side. He's oficially squished between his four brothers, his family; and Tech didn't even realized how much he needed their comfort and warmth until now.

He feels his eyelids dropping, exhaustion creeping in. He has enough strength to tilt his head up and look at your shape.

"Please, don't go" he softly asks. "At least... At least until I'm asleep".

You nod with a loving small smile.

"Of course. I'll always come and stay with you however I can, cyare".

Tech shows a tiny fond smile, moved by the affectionate use of Mando'a –he taught you himself– and nuzzles his nose closer to Hunter's neck with a hum. The sergeant hums back at him and instinctively presses closer, arms wrapping around his younger brother. Crosshair silently imitates him on Tech's other side. To be honest, he hates hugs; but he'll be damned if he didn't try his best at comforting one of the most important persons in his life. He never says so, but he loves every single one of his brothers; a special little soft spot in his heart belonging particularly to Tech.

You know all this, and you can't help but whisper a general "I love you, boys" as well. You'll miss them, too. They were great friends.

You receive a tired wave of choruses back.

"Love you, Tech" you whisper to him, you can't help it yourself. You needed him to hear you say it one more time.

Tech hums almost sleeping, now.

"Love you, ner karta (my heart)" he mumbles, muffled against Hunter's neck.

The man caresses Tech's hair gently until he falls asleep; then, Hunter carefully pulls his goggles off and leaves them in a safe spot on the floor besides them.

Hunter waits until all of his brothers are well asleep; ever the leader, ever the big brother. The protector. He'd do anything for them. Then, he stares at you with an understanding soft expresion on his face; and you shoot him back one of your own, while the bluish light of your shape extinguishes from the barraks in a quiet goodbye. Hunter sighs quietly and nuzzles back into Tech's form, relishing in his and Echo's warmth at his back.

You comfort yourself thinking they will all take care of each other; and you might be able to find them in this afterlife someday. For now, Tech will still live; and he'll be safe with his family, his aliit.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Omgggg you guysss MY FEELINGSSS FJDBFBDJXBSB! This made me get that knot in my throat, my poor baby tech, why u request me this sad stuff ahhhhhh.

Nah, im glad u did though, it was intense to write this piece but i think it came out beautifully if i may say so myself. I hope u liked it!

Okay, we have two Hunter fanfics coming up next!! We will have a little action/teasing one and another more on the fluffy first kiss romantic side. They're both pretty original request ideas so I think you'll like them.

Stay tunned (and remember i'm always up for a chat dm)!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

[ohbo-ohno]

About ghoap x reader, I dunno if you'll understand where I'm coming from, but I find it hard to imagine their relationship functioning in any capacity if reader DOESNT like Johny. Or if she likes Simon more than Johny. Like at first maybe Simon will be a bit chuffed, get that kick of control of superiority, but if reader doesn't quickly show interest of liking Johny, or an inclination, than Simon will start taking it personally?

Like what do you mean you don't like Johny? Look at him, he's sweet, he's obedient (sometimes) and he's just... Lovable. What do you MEAN you DONT like him? What is wrong with you?? And I think if you insist, or simply don't click with Johny, you start to slowly lose value in Simon's eyes. Like someone being unappreciative of his pups presence is an offence.

Doesn't matter if you like Simon, if you can't accept both of them, then maybe you don't have a place here. I think of Simon as a logical man, and even if he does like you, whatever initial thoughts he has on you will quickly depend on if you try to obey, get along, and fit in.

You can lead a horse to water, or whatever the saying was. Basically, if he finds more and more that it's an effort to make you want to obey, he'll just get rid of you. Like even Johny at his worst, always disobeying and making Simon have grey hairs, at least WANTS to try to be good, always has that need/want to obey, even if he fails sometimes.

And I think if you don't try, or take for granted that you're gonna stay here with that attitude, he just. Realizes that you aren't it. Gets rid of you and tries again. Maybe he dumps you back into civilization or kills you, who knows. But he simply cleans his hands of you.

Maybe he tries to find someone else, looking much MUCH more carefully for his requirements. Maybe he doesn't, at least for a while. Poor Johny is heartbroken that you didn't like him, that you didn't want to be around him. He tried so HARD, and that's the thanks Simon's boy gets? Absolutely unnaceptable.

He takes the time to console Johny, build him back up again after the incident, and maybe it takes time, Simon questions if they need to try again. This time, he'll be more meticulous, have a longer vetting process, and have to make sure they to put in effort for the both of them.

Probably do some private training before meeting Johny, so they have good behavior, don't hurt his poor puppy's fragile heart. They're not told they have to get along with Johny, otherwise they might try to fake it, but if they don't like him Simon makes sure they don't stick around long enough for his boy to get too attached. It's a trial and error sort of thing, but Simon hopes to find the One in the first few attempts- he likes Johny in physical pain, never emotional one, at least not like that. He won't make that mistake again.

Feel free to ignore my ramblings it is 3:03 am where I'm from I should be asleep deer god. I think when I see so much x reader fics, as much as I love them, my mind tries to go in a more cruel direction to fit into the perspective of who the characters are to me.

I LOVE ghoap x reader, or just ghoap in general, but my kind has a way of thinking of Simon as a control freak who doesn't succombé to his emotions quickly. It took him time to even like soap as a friend, much less as his dog. Even if he likes reader, he only did this because he loves Johny and the pup needs a new friend.

Johny is more emotional I guess, maybe less so than he portrays to Simon (he wants to be the man's good boy, and if he has to bark and wag his literal tail, or make dog noises in public, he'll do it) but definitely a bit more than normal people. Definitely the type to have crushes or fall in love fast. Maybe that's how Simon got the first reader: Johny liked her, Simon naively thought that that was enough to choose her.

But his boy is the type to hump anything with a pulse (and even that's optional) so maybe he should have been more patient, more critical.

Anyways I'm gonna collapse after this gosh does this thing not have a word counter? Anyways bye bye my love *kisses your forehead consensually I hope*

"It took him time to even like soap as a friend, much less as his dog." has left me dead on the floor

btw you might like The Price to be Paid! it's a ghoap x reader where ghost puts a looooot of effort into picking who he's going to kidnap for Johnny, and istg parts of it feel like they were plucked right from my subconscious, the author has a perfect grip on ghost as a character (imo)

in general, i think you are completely and totally 100% right. the only caveat i have is in a kidnapping fic it might take ghost a bit to figure the difference between "she hates us because we kidnapped her" and "she just hates us because we suck" lmfao but! overall i think you're totally right, that man won't talk to anyone who doesn't like his favorite boy

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith (Ch. 13)

Chapter Thirteen: The Devil Has Many Disguises

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You take up Zach's offer to have dinner at his apartment.

WARNINGS: attempted assault, getting drugged, losing consciousness, side effects of drugs

A/N: PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION! This was a tough chapter to write because I didn't want to write anything too crazy but also not anything not-crazy... this was always in the plan/outline. PLEASE be aware of what you drink when you go out! It's a crazy world. I know this subject can be sensitive. I KNOW. I took this seriously in school and something I always thought was I wish Daredevil was real so sick people could get the justice they deserve! With that said, I hope you like this update, because I can't wait for the next one!

Tags at the end!

Ao3 Link

2 Corinthians 11:14-15 And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.

Office of Nelson & Murdock

Rain pattered softly against the windows of Nelson & Murdock. It was a quiet and calm day, completely opposite of what you felt inside. Inside, your heart was racing at the thought of your plans tonight, your mind felt like you were thinking a million different things at the same time, and in the pit of your stomach was an excitement you hadn’t felt since the beginning of summer. 

A week had gone by since the Bar dinner, and Zach was successful in his attempts to ask you out on a date—was it a date? Tonight, you were to go to his apartment just a little uptown to have dinner and discuss all things LSAT and law school. What really won you over was his genuineness, even over the phone. 

Gone was the slightly cocky, sure-of-himself lawyer you met at the dinner. Instead, Zach actually seemed shy and sweet on the phone. He blamed his attitude on the alcohol, which you’ll admit, you blamed yours on that as well. If you were comfortable enough to come to his apartment, he offered to have dinner there and show you his library of law school books and whatnot. 

“Excited for tonight?” Karen asked as she walked past your desk to drop off a few files for you to input into the system. She smiled and sat on the corner of your desk, pushing a strawberry blonde strand behind her ear. 

“I am,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks turn hot. You spoke in a low voice, so Matt or Foggy couldn’t hear. “I mean, a free fancy dinner and LSAT help? It really can’t get that much better for me right now.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a good time,” Karen said. “Text me, though, if you feel uncomfortable at all or if the date seems to be going wrong, or if he just grosses you out. I’ve had my fair share of dipping on dates early.”

You laughed, “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t go down like that.” 

Karen told you more about the files she dropped on your desk—most of them didn’t have to be put in until Monday, and instead you could use most of the day to read and learn them first. Foggy came out of his office, whooshing past you and Karen, and straight into Matt’s office.

Matt locked himself in his office all week, seemingly avoiding any small talk or conversations. He must’ve been busy with his cases—there were a lot more coming in this week—or so you thought. No, Matt’s mind was occupied with something else, something that’s been slowly eating at him since the Bar dinner last week. 

He sits in his office quietly, one earbud connected to his Orbit reader, the other trying not to eavesdrop on your conversation with Karen, but who was he kidding? He knows Zach has been reaching out to you the entire week, trying to invite you to his apartment for dinner… but something wasn’t right. Matt didn’t know what it was, but something didn’t feel right. 

So what did he do? What he does best—investigate that annoying, hard-to-ignore intuition. Earlier this week, he decided to pay a visit to Landman & Zack on his lunch break without telling anyone. Like clockwork, Zach’s been calling you right at 1:00 p.m. 

Matt was able to listen in from the third floor of Landman & Zack’s building, from the inside of a broom closet, all the way up to the 10th floor where Zach’s office was.

“Hello?” 

“Miss __,”

“Is this Zach?”

“It sure is,” he chuckled lightly over the phone. 

“How can I help you, Zach?” 

“Well, I—I haven’t stopped thinking of our meeting at the dinner last week. I was wondering if I could see you again.”

“You were, were you?”

“Yes,” Zach said, with a hint of impatience only Matt could hear. “I was.”

“Hmm.”

“I was serious about the LSAT help, but I was also thinking we could combine dinner with that, at my apartment uptown?”

“I’m not usually one to go to someone’s house on a first date.”

“None of that,” Zach shook his head. “I just want to help, that’s all. And treat you to dinner, of course.”

It wasn’t the way Matt could hear Zach tapping a pencil on his desk, or the way Matt knew the palms of his hands were sweaty that was off-putting, but it was the way Zach’s heart was beating when he spoke those last few lines to you—about wanting to help.

He was lying. 

And since that moment, Matt’s been contemplating what the right thing to do was. So, by locking himself in his office and avoiding your presence, he thought the answer would come to him—well, it was clear, but it was a matter of whether he should ignore it or not. He listens to you as you gush to Karen about your plans with Zach tonight. He doesn’t realize how tightly he’s clenching his jaw until Foggy walks into his office, seemingly picking up on what your plans are. 

“Hey man,” Foggy greets casually, “can we talk?” Matt leans forward on his desk as Foggy shuts his door. 

“What’s up?” Matt asks. 

“I didn’t want to ask to be weird, so I figured I’d come to you. Did—what happened at the Bar dinner last week? We sort of talked about it, but I don’t think I got the full scope,” Foggy explained, gesturing to you and Karen. 

Matt sighed and ran his hand over his cheek in annoyance. “We ran into an old colleague of ours,” Matt said with a forced smile, “Zachary Zack.”

“I gathered that, but—is—don’t tell me that asshole is coming onto her,” Foggy said. He runs his hand through his long blonde locks. “That guy got everything handed to him at that firm because of his father! And now, he thinks he can just cozy up to one of our employees and bribe her to leave us?”

“He’s not bribing her, Fog—he’s trying to win her over, see her—I don’t know,” Matt said exasperated. “You should’ve heard him at the party. He’s the same pompous asshole as he always was.”

“What, you mean like ask her out on a date?” Foggy asked with concern. “He asked her out, and that’s what she and Karen are talking about?” 

Matt nodded his head slowly. Hearing it said out loud caused Matt to feel an uncomfortable rush in his chest. He hands turned to fists as he took a deep breath. 

“He gave her his number at the party. I’m assuming she must’ve messaged him because he’s been calling her every day. Yesterday, he finally asked her to dinner at his apartment and to help her with the LSAT.” 

“Jesus…” Foggy sighed. “I mean, I don’t want to scare her or tell her what to do, but Zack was bad news back then. I wouldn’t want him to hurt her or take advantage—what’s his intention?”

“I don’t know,” Matt said cooly. “But I do know he lied to her about wanting to help.”

“Lied—how do you know?”

Matt sighed and took off his dark red glasses. 

“The other day, I took my lunch and decided to go to Landman & Zack, right before I knew he would call her. I…listened to their conversation and could hear Zach’s heartbeat. He was lying, Foggy,” Matt whispered. “I don’t like that.” 

“What should we do?” Foggy asked. 

“Not we,” Matt shook his head. “What am I going to do.” 

“God Matt,” Foggy shook his head, “you really think it could be that serious?” 

“I don’t know,” Matt answered. “Just to make sure she’s safe, I’ll follow her. That’s all. If he seems fine, then I’ll leave. Maybe his heartbeat was a product of nerves asking her.”

“Maybe,” Foggy said. “Well, be careful. And make sure she’s safe.”

Matt nodded as Foggy left the room. He sat there for a moment, thoughts swimming in his head—he thought of the last night you banished him from his life, as the man in the mask, as Daredevil, as your savior. He thought of the very first night he ever met you, the first night you shared on your rooftop. This wasn’t about his feelings for you anymore, or his heartache, or yours—it was about making sure you were safe. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

Entering the last case in the system, you nervously watched as the clock finally struck 5:00 p.m. Karen was gathering her bags and jacket and Foggy was almost halfway out the door. He stopped in Matt’s office for something and then wished you a good weekend, and to be safe. 

“You too, Fog,” you smiled. He looked at you with a soft expression before heading out. Karen walked by your desk to wish the same thing. 

“Let me know how it goes,” she said quietly. “Great job today, by the way.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “Have a good weekend!” 

She said goodbye to Matt and shut the door quietly. You finished typing your last sentence before you began to pack your own things up. 

Zach said to come by his apartment anytime after work, so you weren’t going to put pressure on yourself to get ready in a rush. Though, you did want to get there at around eight o’clock. 

As you were about to head out, you noticed Matt was still sitting at his desk, hunched over a pile of papers, running his fingers over the braille. He was so concentrated, you weren’t sure if you should slip out or wish him a good weekend. He may have felt your presence, you weren’t sure, but he looked up behind his dark red glasses as you stood in the doorway. 

“Heading out?” Matt asked. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just wanted to say goodbye and have a good weekend. Got any plans?” 

Matt chuckled a little as if to say, me, plans? 

“Not really,” Matt answered. “Think I’ll take this weekend to relax, maybe catch up on work.”

“You’re always working,” you smiled and spoke softly. “Why don’t you take a break and actually relax?” 

“I take a break, the cases pile up even more,” Matt said. “Do you have any plans?” 

“Not much going on. I am—I’m going to have dinner with that old colleague of yours, Zach?” You told Matt. “Took him up on his offer to help me with studying. He’s making dinner, too.”

“Hm,” Matt replied, “that’s good. A date?”

“I’m not sure,” you laughed nervously. Telling Matt these things treaded weird territory, but you felt comfortable enough to talk to him like this. You remembered that night outside of Josie’s when you confided in him about your savior. “What was he like? When you worked with him, I mean. How was he?”

Matt shifted in his seat. You wanted to say never mind, but then he started to speak. 

“He was… loud.”

“Don’t hold back now,” you smirked. 

“He was a little pretentious. I don’t know if you know, but his father is the elder Zack. I never worked that closely with him, but everyone knew who he was.”

“Hm,” you answered thoughtfully, “why did you and Foggy leave?”

“We didn’t agree with how they ran their firm,” Matt said. 

“Interesting,” you replied. “Well, I guess I’ll let you know if he’s still pretentious.”

“I’m sure not much has changed,” Matt laughed, “But I hope it goes well. I really, really do.”

With that, you smiled once more at Matt, before leaving him alone in his office. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓ Uptown 8 PM 

Zach’s apartment was a little bit uptown, but not much. Just like you were stunned at the venue of the Bar dinner, your reaction to his apartment was no different. On the 12th floor, his apartment had a beautiful view of Manhattan, especially at night—the building lights twinkled as you looked out his giant living room windows. He had an open floor plan, so when you first walked in you basically saw almost all of his apartment. To the right was a kitchen with a white marble countertop, and to the left was a small dining room with the same countertop. In front was the large living room, and beautiful large windows. 

He was in his kitchen, keeping an eye on the linguine he was boiling. That and the shrimp in the pan smelled delicious. 

“Like the view?” He called from the kitchen. Separating you was his large living space, with a tan suede moon crescent-shaped couch. The ceiling had a diamond chandelier and a glass coffee table. You were happy you opted to wear a white silk shirt and matching skirt. For some reason, you had a feeling his apartment would be minimalistic and classy. 

“I do,” you answered, “but nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

He laughed as he stirred the pasta. “Guess the view of the city all depends on where you stand. Wait til I show you my library.” You looked at him—he wore a white button-down shirt and khakis. His blonde hair looked more warm in the lighting. 

“The library,” you repeated. “Where all your law books are?”

“And even more,” he smiled brightly—his chiseled smile caused goosebumps to form on your arms. “Do you want some chardonnay?” 

“Please,” you accepted his offer. He turned the stove on medium heat before grabbing a brand new bottle from his separate wine cellar. Bringing out two large wine glasses, you watched as he poured you the cold, golden liquid. 

“Say when,” he said, catching your eyes. Your heart leaped. 

“When,” you smiled. 

Zach raised his glass—you mirrored him as the wine glasses clinked. He held your gaze for a moment before you both took a sip of wine. It tasted sweet. You blushed and looked away. 

Suddenly, the pot on the stove overflowed. Zach immediately turned the stove down and took the lid off the pot, scratching the back of his head. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I’m not much of a chef. Why don’t I show you the library now?” 

You laughed, sort of caught off guard by how he seemed unsure of himself. Taking another sip of wine, you nodded your head. 

He walked you down a narrow hallway in his apartment. At the end of the hall was a glass door, away from the view of the city. When Zach pressed a light switch on the wall, the room lit up a soft glow and your reaction was similar to the first time you saw the giant blue whale hanging in the middle of the Museum of Natural History. You were in awe.

“The rest of the collection is at my dad’s,” Zach laughed as he watched you gape in the room. Against each wall were bookshelves lined with the most beautiful leather-bound books. Between blank spaces were the scales of justice, or a mini statue of lady justice. At the front of the room was a long mahogany desk with two lamps on either side and a quill and ink bottle for style. You gravitated towards it, running your fingers over the smooth wood. 

“Where are the LSAT books? Could we take a look?”

“When dinner’s over and we have some more drinks in us,” Zach smiled. Part of your heart fell from disappointment, but it made sense to not rush into what you came here for. Plus, you were really hungry. And this wine was delicious. 

By the time you made it back to the kitchen, you finished your wine. You took a seat in a golden chair at the marble table and looked at this side of the room. There was a long mirror against the wall and some house plants in each corner. Zach wasn’t much for decorating, you could tell. 

With his back to you in the kitchen, Zach poured you another glass of chardonnay. He brought you your glass before he went back and prepared two plates of shrimp linguine. You drank from the wine glass and started to feel that familiar buzz wine gave you. 

“Dinner’s served,” Zach smiled as he sat in the seat next to you. It smelled delicious—you wasted no time twisting your fork in the pasta and taking your first bite with a small piece of shrimp. 

“This is amazing,” you breathed, “wow.” 

“Thank you,” Zach nodded, “it's a recipe from my grandmother. It goes perfectly with the chardonnay.”

“It really does,” you said, taking another sip of the wine. “I’m actually not much of a wine drinker, but I do enjoy it occasionally with dinner.”

“I love it,” Zach smiled. 

“So, I have a question,” you began. “What was it like working with my bosses?”

“Nelson and Murdock?” Zach questioned, “I didn’t work with them that closely. They weren’t even there that long. To be honest, they seemed a little too soft for this field.”

“Woah,” you said in defense, “these are my bosses you’re talking about—be careful, Zack,” you squinted your eyes playfully. Zach shrugged his shoulders, seemingly serious about what he was saying. 

“Being a lawyer isn’t all about justice. I learned that the hard way,” Zach said, “it’s more than just lady justice and good vs. evil. It’s a business. You’ll learn that in law school.”

You didn’t agree with what he said. The whole point of the justice system was to serve justice—it’s not all business and it’s not all money. 

“Maybe it’s business for Landman & Zack, but not for Nelson & Murdock,” you gently argued. 

“That’s why our building is on Fifth Ave and yours is off a corner in the Kitchen,” he said rather smugly. Not wanting to push the matter further—clearly, there was some weird tension between Zach and your bosses--you smiled and took another bite of linguine. 

After your next sip of wine, you placed the glass next to your plate, and there was something unsettling about the way the liquid splashed on the glass. You watched curiously as if in slow motion, as the cold wine splashed outside the wine glass and on the back of your hand. You felt an inclination to react, but you sat there, staring in confusion. 

“You okay?” You heard Zach’s voice, which strangely sounded muffled. Were you drunk already, after only one and a half glasses in? You knew wine could have this effect on you—your wine drunk was different from your tequila drunk—but why were you such a lightweight tonight? 

“Yeah,” you said or tried to say—your voice felt like it was a thousand miles away from you, and you were still staring at the glass and your hand covered in the sweet, sticky liquid. Did you even hear your voice? Were you going deaf? Where did this loud ringing sound come from? 

You watched as Zach dabbed your hand with a napkin. You flinched at his touch and tried to bring your hand close to you, but it felt like it weighed a ton. You couldn’t move it. It was like when your arm fell asleep from sleeping on it wrong—not even a pinch you could feel. Your eyes fell to your shrimp linguine, which suddenly was nauseating to look at, even smell. The linguine noodles looked like a bowl of just yellow, with a few orange dots that tried to be shrimp. You shut your eyes, blinked really hard, and opened them to feel even more dizzy. 

“Something’s not right,” you said weakly, so softly you weren’t even sure Zach heard you. Your tongue felt thick. Your heart started to pound, no, hammer in your chest—not a rapid beat from adrenaline, but an agonizingly slow and steady beat—you could hear it in your ears, your pulse, like a hammer was hitting your chest from the inside, telling you that something wasn’t right. An impending feeling of fear washed over you like an ice-cold wave, but at the same time, everything started to feel too hot. 

“Let’s lay you down,” Zach’s muffled voice said. You tried to get up from the seat but even that was too difficult. You could barely hold onto the armchairs. Zach expertly got up and pulled your seat out, lifting you from behind. You stood on your feet but nearly fell over the table. Your glass of wine spilled across the table, the glass shattering into pieces. “Let’s lay you down,” he says again.

“I don’t feel good,” you slurred. It was the strangest thing you’ve ever felt, a mix of terror and confusion. You were still wondering how you ended up so drunk, and why you suddenly felt a strong urge to go home. You could barely walk, let alone stand. Zach was practically dragging you to the long, suede couch. And you’re not sure if you tripped, but you flung onto the couch and landed on your side, feeling your whole body weigh you down like you were made of sand bags. Your heart was still hammering slowly in your chest, and you felt like you were sinking. Sinking into doom, into fear, into an abyss you couldn’t crawl out of. Sinking in a dream you couldn’t wake up from. 

The only way you could describe it was like being in the middle of a terrible, terrible nightmare—the worst you could think of—and just as things were about to get terrifying, just as whatever dream-maker had control over your dreams was going to commence the final act of doom, you think you will wake up to sweet relief and reality—except, the nightmare keeps going, and this is your reality. Tunnel vision now. You can barely see. 

“You said you wanted to lay down,” Zach appeared over your head now, his once-blue eyes now beady as he looked down at you. His fingers felt meaty as they forced you to look up at him. You furrowed your brows—I wanted to lay down? I asked?—you tried to wipe your hair out of your face but an unpleasant grip took your wrist and threw it above your head. You felt heavy, numb, powerless. 

“Shh,” Zach cooed in a sing-song voice, “it’s okay, you wanted this. Remember?” He’s leaning over you now, and you’re watching as he begins to unbutton your white shirt. 

You don’t remember. You don’t remember how you ended up on the couch, and his voice made you turn your face and push into the soft velvet cushion, away from him, an attempt to escape. An attempt to have any kind of control. To hide. 

And then suddenly, his body weight on top of you was gone, like an intense pressure on your chest immediately disappearing. 

You looked at the soft, suede, tan-colored couch. The sort of color that reminds you of old peeling wallpaper in a doctor’s office; uninviting, ugly, yellow and dry. Before, the color of this couch was ordinary—but with your cheek pressed against it and you lying on your side, you see the color for what it is. Boring, ugly, and something you absolutely hate to look at. And you want to hold onto anything familiar in your mind—a familiar feeling, a familiar image, but you can’t. You’re breathing heavily, and your eyes feel like they weigh a ton. You struggle to keep them open but now the room looks like it's spinning from the way you lie—like a washing machine. You see a figure in black moving around before black is simply all you see. 

Hell’s Kitchen 12 AM 

The first thing you wake up to is your uncontrollable shaking. It reminds you of a time when you were in middle school and you came down with the flu. You remembered being wrapped in a hoodie and sweatpants and socks, under thick blankets, and shivering like you were out in the cold. Your mom brought you chicken soup and your dad put on your favorite cartoon. There was a huge difference between then and now. You were shivering, but there wasn’t that familiar feeling of home. Only panic.

Your eyes shoot open and it takes you a moment to realize you’re not in a room you recognize—your eyes first land on dojo-type sliding doors, a soft glow coming behind them. You look around a little more, and there’s not much in the room except for a wooden armoire tucked in the corner and tiny windows in the front. Bright, neon lights shine through them before they disappear again. You shut your eyes once more. It’s then you realize you have an IV in your arm. A strange, tight pinch in the middle of your arm, on your most delicate skin. 

You shoot up in bed, shaking, and your head pounding. The bed you were in must be king-size, covered in dark silk sheets. Black or dark blue, you couldn’t tell. You’ve never slept in silk sheets before. At the edge of the bed are more folded blankets, and you immediately grab them, desperate for some more warmth. Throwing them over yourself, you immediately lay back down, cautious of the IV in your arm. Your teeth started to clatter. 

You’ve been wanting to avoid the only answer that brought you here. You didn’t even want to say his name, think of him, or that God-awful voice he used… 

Tears welled in your eyes—you can’t remember much other than that. You don’t remember how it happened, all you know now was you were in bed, with an IV in your arm. Tears streamed down your face, and the familiar hammering heartbeat started in your chest again. It wasn’t from terror, but sadness. You felt so incredibly sad, and you didn’t know why. Your whole body felt weak and cold. Your chest felt heavy. 

You jumped when you saw the dojo doors slide open slightly. Wiping your tears and holding your breath, you looked around nervously for a weapon to use against whoever stood behind the doors. 

You felt immense relief and confusion when you saw your savior step into the room—his room, you concluded. It had been months since you’d seen him, the lightness that filled your chest was telling you—that you missed him, so much. But what strange circumstances were you in now? 

“M-Mike?” God, even your voice was quivering and hard to mask. “What—you brought me here?” 

He was silent in his movements, his face half covered and in his usual black outfit. You were relieved it was him but confused all the same. Did he know where you were? How? Did he save you? 

Of course, he did. 

“Yes,” he said, slowly walking over to you. You flinched, for some reason, like second nature as he got closer. He stopped in his movements and held up his hands. “It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said in a shaky voice, pulling your knees to your chest. “I don’t know why I flinched.“

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “Can I sit next to you?”

“Yeah,” you answered weakly, more like a desperate plea. “Yes.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, and you scooted over a little to give him room. The bed dipped when he sat down. You stayed in your fetal position, shaking. You wanted to reach up and touch him, but you were all too weak. “How do you feel?” He asked, even though he knew the answer was obvious. 

“I can’t stop shaking like I have a fever,” you said. “My head is pounding. My throat is dry.”

“You do have a fever, but the IV is helping bring it down,” your savior explained softly. 

“Did you hook me up to it?”

He shook his head. “No. A friend did.” 

“Mike,” you whispered, “what happened to me?” Your voice cracked at your question, and your savior’s throat bobbed, like this was hard for him, too.

“Nothing happened to you,” he said softly. “I didn’t let him.” 

“Did he… I felt like everything was fine and then suddenly I couldn’t walk. Did he slip my drink something?” 

Your savior didn’t speak, he only nodded. “You’re experiencing the side effects now. It’ll be in your system for 12 hours, but the IV is flushing it out.”

“Oh my, God,” you cried, “oh my, God,” you cried into his silk pillow, feeling something tighten in your chest. You felt his warm hand on your shoulder, caressing your skin. You sobbed, hiccuping cries, and your savior stayed there, holding your arm. 

“__,” he said your name after your cries softened. “You’re with me.” 

You opened your eyes and wiped your tears, looking at your savior. Slowly drawing his hand away from you, he reached behind the back of his head and pulled his black mask loose. With his head down, he slowly drew it back and off his face, and you swore you couldn’t tell if you believed who you saw or if the drug's side effects were still in your system because you were looking at Matt Murdock right in his hazel-brown eyes.

_____

TAGS:

@starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse @hailey-murdock (please let me know if I missed you!)

[the-demonus-aunt]

I was so happy that you open for request!

If you don't mind I want request someone for Lucifer, how about Lucifer dealing with Naughty MC and lucifer is also jealous that MC spoils his brothers too much (and accidentally forgets about him) so he decides to give MC "a little bit" of punishment

Shibari, Spanking, rough sex Kink Will do 😇

I hope this isn't too much, Feel free to ignore. Have a good day

Hope this is what you hoped for!

CN nsft. minors dni. lucifer x reader. rough. bondage. spanking. jealousy. possessiveness.

Busy Bees Get Stung

At this point, you might need a calendar just to coordinate all the ways the brothers were monopolizing your time.

Going shopping with Mammon and Asmo, gaming with Levi, visiting museums and botanical gardens with Satan. And that was just the Avatars – all the times Luke asked you to join another baking session and Solomon wanted to teach you another spell and Thirteen wanted to test another trap on you.

Now, of course, you love your boys to death and enjoy every minute with them. But by Dia, you were getting burnt out.

Which is why, tonight, you told Satan and Levi, Asmo and Mammon were taking you to a party. They, on the other hand, assumed you were visiting an art gallery with the Avatar of Wrath. Beel and Belphie thought you were studying. And the others – the others had heard a bunch of other lies. 

Naturally, all hell was about to break loose, when Satan would meet Asmo in the hallway. Or when Mammon would ask Levi to game with him. Or when Belphie would plan to fall asleep on the couch next to you, only to find the library empty. 

Foreseeing as you were, you were already on your way to hide in the only place no one would dare to enter: Lucifer’s bedroom. The eldest had taken a good chunk of his paperwork up there a while ago and surely he wouldn’t mind some company as long as you were quiet and left him to his work.

“Come in”, he invited you as you knocked on his door, but frowned when he realised you were carrying along a blanket and a bag of crisps.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I need some alone time.” 

“So you decide to bother me?”

“Jeez, Luce. I’ll leave you alone, just let me stay? Please?”

This was when one brow was raised and a smirk formed on his lips. He turned completely towards you in his chair: “Oh? Suddenly so desperate for my company?”

“I always am, you know that.” You plopped down on his couch, put your arms up on the backrest and smiled at him sweetly. 

It took him maybe a second to stand in front of you and pull you up by your hair until you were facing each other. “Is that so? Because lately you don’t seem to care for my company at all, love. In fact, I feel like you might need a little reminder why you should.”

You could only huff, pain shooting through your nerve ends. He threw you back onto the couch and started loosening his tie. You just watched in awe, as he slowly stripped down, torn between rubbing your aching scalp and gawking at his muscles. You guessed that it had been a while…

Lucifer stopped in his tracks: “You’re going to regret every second it takes you to undress.” He slipped his belt out of its loops. “One.”

You knew better than to test him. “Two.” Why was it so hard to get out of skinny jeans? “Three.” The demon was losing his shoes and pants, strutting over to his little cabinet of pain. 

It took you 12 seconds. You threw a horrified glare towards your significant other when he returned to you with six ropes, all in as deep a red as his eyes. He did not talk to you while he placed them around you: Around your torso, caressing your skin, but never grazing where you wanted him to most. Around your wrists, placing little kisses around them, but never looking up at you. Around your thighs, prying your legs apart and tying you up in a way that constricted you from closing them.

At the end of it all, you were laying on his bed, face planted into his satin pillows and receiving blow after blow on your bare ass. “Six. For the way you danced with Mammon and Satan and Mephistopheles, of all of them, but could not spare a moment for me at Lord Diavolo’s gala.”

“Seven. For the mischievous glances you and Mammon have been exchanging, leaving me out of the loop. Again.”

Tears were already streaming down your face. He sure wasn’t holding back. Was the Avatar of Pride actually hurt because you hadn’t given him enough attention?

“Eight. For using my room as a refuge when you finally got sick of their antics.”

“Nine. For that being the only reason you show up at my door after two weeks.” 

Every spanking left a burning mark on your ass and he did not leave you enough time to breathe it out. Yet, you could not deny how unbearably wet you were getting. And he knew. He could definitely see your lips glistening more and more with every number he counted down.

“Eleven. For still not apologising for your outrageous behaviour. And twelve. For taking this like the needy little slut you really are.”

The last smack was the hardest and immediately followed by his hard cock pressing his way into you to the hilt, no preparation, no mercy. Yet again, his slender fingers found their way into your hair, pulling you up, as he bowed over you to whisper in your ear.

“From now on, you will know better than to keep me waiting around. Know your place, next to me, as my partner. You belong to me as I belong to you. And I expect you to behave accordingly.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a firm thrust and a shiver running down your skin, as his deep voice settled over you.

“I’m sorry, Lucifer. I love you, Lucifer.” And he rewarded you with a bite to your neck and his fingers on your clit.

[hurryupmerlin]

Absolutely losing my shit over how my ADHD brain operates when its needs are met.

Hear me out.

Idk who knows it but I had some serious burnout phase going on (again) for the past 6 weeks – plus 2 weeks of slowly crawling up to where I am now. But now I feel better than ever.

What changed in the last 2 weeks is that I set up boundaries and for once actually sticked to them.

That means:

- I am forcing myself not to care about work. I used to spent so. damn. much. energy on trying to save the company I work for, and all it brought me was being miserable. Now, when my bosses do really dumb shit, I force myself to just shrug and go on with my task. And honestly? Life changing experience. I also have 3 instead of 2 home office days now, that's nice too. And I stopped trying to make things perfect. I've been known for finding logic errors and mistakes before the products go to print. But by now I am just like ~eh, good enough~. I don't try for perfection anymore and it's so refreshing. This is what everyone else has been doing, so why not me too?

- I cut off contact to my toxic grand aunt. My mother keeps telling me about her and just ignores that I tell her not to do this, but at least I personally don't have to play her wicked little manipulative games anymore. I also got rid of her latest "gift" that was once again meant to bind me to her via emotional debt. It's liberating. She tries to bind me again in all the other ways on her list, and my Mum keeps buying into her bs, but I'm out.

- I am no longer participating in one of my addictions. ( it's picking up free stuff in every free minute *sigh*) Cos it stressed me out more than it gave me joy, yet I couldn't stop. Til now.

- For the past couple days I've been in contact almost 24/7 with an old friend of my mine who has AuDHD. We don't have to mask around each other at all and it's so cool. I hadn't even realised that I mask... She knows what tickles my brain and how to navigate and activate it. It's honestly an insane experience. And that causes my dopamine levels to be super high and that means I actually get shit done. I've been paying bills and cleaning my house??? I wasn't able to do this for months. It's such a relief.

- Said friend also "diagnosed" my mother and sister with autism. Especially my sister with Asperger. And suddenly everything about them makes so much more sense. It gives me a bit of peace of mind.

Long story short: I cut off a lot of stressors and for now, I am good. I am happy. I pace my energy. I still need a lot of sleep and my batteries empty quickly, but overall I am content. And I finally feel my body again. Haven't so for about a year and it shows.

Next step is therapy and meds.

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)

• Characters: Suguru Niragi, fem!Reader

• Genre: angst, fluff

• Warnings: violence, reader losing her mind, Niragi is kinda ooc

Angst Prompts - #5

꧁ ✾✿❀ ꧂ ✾✿❀ ꧁ ✾✿❀ ꧂

When Niragi and I got stuck in Borderland I quickly knew that a lot of things will change. Because if they didn’t, we’d die. No hard feelings, no remorse, no empathy. If you want to survive you need to be okay with killing the others. It was hard at first but after a while I kind of got used to it, because I wanted to live.

Niragi on the other hand didn’t just got used to it - he straight up enjoyed it. He enjoyed being in charge of other people, scaring other people and killing them. I could see all the anger he has hidden inside broke out of him when he realized there will be no consequences for his actions. He would make the others feel the pain he had to suffer, not caring that it wasn’t their fault that he got bullied by those scumbags.

For the first time in his life he was the one in charge. He was the one they feared and no one dared to even look at him in a wrong way. I was okay with it at first because it meant that no one dared to look at me in a wrong way too. As Niragis girlfriend I had the privilege of safety around The Beach so I tried to ignore his actions as best as I could and hoped that if we manage to go home again, he would be the same again.

But the more time passed, the more violent he got and with every game we played he seemed to lose a little bit more of his sanity. It was heartbreaking to see what the guys back in school did to his mental health.

The guy, once so gentle with me, was now a total freak. Yes back in the real world he was a freak too. A freak in the sheets and hella snappy but now he is this kind of freak you see in a true crime documentary.

The day when Aguni became the leader was the first and only time I addressed his behavior.

„You heard that Aguni got promoted?“, he asks without a hello when he bursted in the room, closing the door loudly behind him. „That means I am the new number 2.“

Even when his hands snuck to my hip I continued to stare out the window, not reacting to him. „Don’t you think we need to celebrate this?“ His hot tongue touched the shell of my ear and right after his teeth started to knibble on said skin. I just brushed him off, moving away. „What’s wrong babe?“

„How many people were it today?“ I asked after I turned around and pointed with my chin to his gun. Niragi cocked his head to the side and looked at me confused. „How many did you threaten with this thing? Or hurt? Killed?“

His gaze got softer and he placed the gun against the wall. „Are you scared of me?“ Slowly he put his hands in the air, like I was a cop. „No!“, I answer quickly, but started to re-think it. Sometimes I feel like staying out of his way, when he is like that. „Sometimes. A little bit.“

I can see in his eyes that this has hit him. He looked hurt, almost devastated. „Why?“, he asked, lost on words.

With a quiet sigh I sat down on the bed and thought about the right words. „You‘ve killed and hurt so many people“, I start, my voice barely louder than a whisper. „You get your way, no matter what. If the card theory is true and only one can leave…“ Quickly I turn my head to blink the tears away that started to burn in my eyes. I have forbidden myself to think about this scenario and even now I just can’t seem to put my worries in words. „What will happen with us?“

When I looked back up Niragi is kneeling in front of me with a shattered expression on his face. „I will kill myself before I let you behind.“

He seemed conflicted, not knowing if he could touch me. He chose not to and so he stayed in front of me with his hands on his knees.

„I just don’t know what to think anymore“, I admit. „I still love you, and sometimes I hate myself for it.“

We‘re both quiet for a couple of minutes, needing time to realize and accept what I just said, then Niragi raised his voice again. „I know I get carried away easily but think of it that way: the more people that are scared of me and the more people I kill, the less will be a threat to us.“ I don’t want to, but I understand his point. It makes sense and the way he said it, it even calmed me a bit down.

„I am in charge“, he continued. „I am the one with the gun, I am the right hand of our new boss and I am the one that will blow away everyone’s brains if you tell me to. We’re in a world without moral codes. Let’s make the best out of it.“

I don’t know what or how but something inside me switched that day. Niragis motives suddenly seemed more reasonable to me. Maybe I am going insane too but I don’t mind as much as I did in the beginning.

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

Hello potion seller! How goes your day?

May I have a potion?

My thoughts are once again turning to Osamu Miya this time of year. That handsome bastard…

My day always fares well, dear Traveler, when I am able to interact with people so kind as yourself. And I always do love the company of those that cannot find it within themselves to admit to those begrudging feelings that surround their hearts.

Ah, I can tell by the way you are now looking at me that you haven’t the faintest idea as to what I am speaking of; or perhaps you are feigning ignorance. Either way, you have before me to hopefully get a potion, am I right?

This Tonic of Perception will be what you need. I suggest having this within either within your favourite tea, or even more so, something that is very sweet. For it is a bitter liquid that can be hard to swallow if taken on its own.

Perhaps you could even have it with a sweet from the bakery down the road?

“Something sweet, huh?” You mumbled to yourself in a begrudging manner as you paced along the cobblestone path that led towards the one place you knew you could find just that.

But truly you were doing anything in your power to avoid entering that littler bakery. It was why, when you feet followed the familiar path, you tried to divert it. To do whatever you could to avoid the alluring smell of fresh bread and cake that always drew you in whenever the days grew shorter and the air colder.

That was why you ended up in that strange peddler’s company. To try and prove to yourself that you meant to finally visit the strange parlour you had been avoiding like it was the plague, and not as a diversion. To not admit to yourself that your feet were falling into old habits, and that your heart follow suit.

But, of course, fate always had something else in mind.

As you wandered about within the peddlers home, your eyes slowly took in all the strange, yet marvelous, vials and trinkets that cluttered the many shelves around you. You read each label, even took a few into your hand out of curiosity, all in pitiful attempt to waste as much time as you could to then allow you excuse of how late it had gotten so you could go home without venturing further down the road.

Yet, despite it all, a vial did catch your eye. You supposed it was the simplicity of it which is why it stood out to you. The bottle, small, but nothing more of note. The liquid was clear, looked just like water. If you did not know better, and truly the thought did cross your mind for a brief moment, you would assume that this peddler just placed water into a vial and was trying to sell it off and a powerful tonic.

“Do you like them?” She asked, when your eyes could not stray from the strange bottle before you.

“Suppose they have my curiosity” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders, finally tearing you eyes away to look upon her – her knowing grin made a frown etch the sides of your lips.

“Not surprised this one called for you,” She mused, “You seemed to be avoiding something.”

“Am I?” You questioned as she plucked the vial from where is stood so proudly before holding it out for you.

“This will help with that, Tonic of Perception is a good brew for those that are adverse to dealing with situations set before them”

“A potion, huh? This looks more like water…” You mumbled, as you examined the vial more closely before a sheepish smile graced your face as you watched the peddler bow her head in slight annoyance.

“I can understand your trepidation” She hummed, a humble smile upon her lips as she gazed at you “But I can assure you I am no fraud hoping for a quick coin from desperate people.”

It was her tone that made you wish to believer her. That and the knowledge that she was more than happy to bequeath the little vial to you free of charge. Truly there was nothing for you to lose should you decide to take her up on her truths and drink it – if it was a dud then you did not waste any money/

But there was something you could lose. If you stepped foot in that shop again you would feel his eyes upon you. You remembered the last time you had a conversation with the baker, Osamu, just before the first rainfall of the spring season. How he teased you over your constant presence in his shop. How your sweet tooth was the only thing keeping him in business. You could not understand why you were so offended, but you were. Perhaps it was the more monotone drawl he used as he teased you that plucked a nerve. All you did know if that if you showed up there again, after the season had changed to autumn, you would be proving him right and yourself a hypocrite.

Not like you wanted to be there all the time. But when the months got colder, the days would be filled more with moonlight that the sun’s rays, you felt the need for a form of comfort; of warmth. And truly the most warm place you had ever felt welcomed was that of your aunt – a confectioner in her own right. But since you had moved away from home, from where you grew up, you had yet to feel that level of warmth again.

Yet when you were in the bakery, that same sense of warmth filled your heart the same way it did when you were but a child. And over the harsh months of winter you found yourself there more and more, just wanting a glimmer of that inner warmth you so craved. You enjoyed his company as well, though eh never said much. But just knowing that his presence was there was enough for you to feel a sense of connection that helped you as you struggled with the day-to-day that life brought.

Perhaps that was why it hurt you so much when he made that jabbing comment?

Whatever it was, it did not matter now. Certainly not at this moment as you stood at the familiar doorstep of the bakery; with a deep inhale, one that you couldn’t not help but have turn into a pleasurable sigh as your lungs filled with the scent of fresh bread, you took another look at the vial you had been clutching tightly since it was given to you.

“Perhaps it will give me courage?” You muttered to yourself uncorked the lid the lid that separated you from it.

The liquid was bitter, almost intolerable, as it brushed your tongue and went down your throat. It caused you to sputter and cough as you did your best to not cause a scene. Though the bitterness soon became the least of your worries as you felt your body lose its strength and your eyes began to roll back until your vision was no more.

Darkness filled you.

But only for a moment. Just as quickly as it cascaded over you light flooded your vision once more. Then, a clear picture of the world around you as your vision grew accustomed to the light. You were in the bakery, surrounded by plenty of bread in all its forms, those cranberry muffins you always loved to eat, and a few tarts that looked mouth watering.

And yet, none of it filled you with that same sense of warmth that you grew so fond of. In fact, where you were was not familiar to you at all. You seemed to be in a kitchen, preparing to bring out all the mouth-watering goods to the display counters.

It was then that it dawned on you, perception, if what she claimed this potion was. If only you remembered that a few moments prior; though you could not further beat yourself over such a mistake given how far your mind had gone. But now, you were in the mind of someone else. Clearly it was Osamu, only he was ever allowed in the kitchens of this place. But that only heighted your confusion. For how could he not feel the same warmth you did when he looked upon his work; you knew him a proud man, one that adored the life he had made for himself.  Yet? It was if something was missing. Something felt incomplete as you continued to be a passenger within his own mind, as you viewed the world from his eyes.

A thud, not loud in nature, but still enough to take your (and his) attention away; to feel the sense of confusion and worry as he made his was from the back of his bakery toward the front entrance. You felt the panic that entered his being as he saw you, laying so helpless upon the ground. You could not help but share in his sense of urgency and consternation as you watched yourself get pulled into the shop.

Then, a tingle was felt through the panic and mayhem. A sense of relief of knowing you were alright, as well as… something else. Almost akin to homeliness as you were privy to him as he watched over you; as you watched his thumb gingerly pet across your cheek.

It was then that you realized that sense of warmth, one that showcased to you within these four walls, did not come him in the form of the bakery as you so thought.

It came from you.

Oh dear, suppose I should have warned you about what would happen should you decide to drink the potion. Though, I was suspecting that you were going to be sitting down and enjoying a treat to go with it; but I digress, a warning still should have been given.

As well, was not the best move to drink the whole vial – again my fault for not providing you the knowledge needed – as merely a few drops would have sufficed. I’m afraid you will be stuck as a passenger for a little while longer, but no more than three hours at most. Once that time has passed you shall wake with no issue.

Though, I do not envy you the headache you will face.

[honeybeewhereartthee]

PINK KKOMAS 155

Spoiler for my stories

-PRESENT

"should we go to Blood place since he still did not show up for days?" Reaper ask as stared at the pinky in the table. Almost everyone, except for Blood, mofumofu, and Purple is here. Hallow did went to get more food.

"Let him root in hell." Addy plainly stared as he take another mochi to eat. He was invited by Hollow with the three kitties. "Hey now don't be like that!" Reaper says which Adimite ignores as he feed Kuma, Then Kitty then Mika some mochis.

"People without sense of self but world order is a piece of garbage." The gem added as he remembers some words from that weirdo who call himself a doctor. "Just write a script and he will follow like a mindless puppet--"

"shut up." Bee who heard the word puppet remembers the words of Aira when the Chaos is at their universe. aira treated everyone who cannot control their fate as puppet. Mindless puppet.

"How can you say you aren't like him? Another puppet in this stage play.... Honestly. You better not bad mouth blood or I'll be your problem." Even how much a love rival Blood is. He can't help but be defensive. Blood is close to him after all.

"please stop."-Reaper (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

"so what? I don't give a flying care if I am." Addy smiles at Bee. "At least I am real. But what about you? What are you?" Before he can say more, the table was flip and he found himself being crash by Bee grip.

His brittle body crash in small pressure that Bee held on him. The fae who's on top of him show no sign of sanity while he only see enemy in front of him.

"Shut up.shut up.shut up." The fae mumble like a broken tape as sea and Doll tried to remove his grip on Addy.

"hey I brought the ice cream mochi --" Hallow come and saw the chaos. "ADDY!" he quickly tried to help his friend but bee just stared at his direction as his left eyes glow in chaos and a spider web appear underneath, activating Soul link with blood.

He use blood ability to manipulate shadows hands and thrown everyone away and chain them to the wall as he crash the gem like his out of his mind.

"ILL SAVE YA!" A meow can be heard, as a dazzling gem run toward Bee to save Adimite but at the moment he forgotten how to do so.

"HELPPPPPPPP" He screams as he run away from the shadows hands but it all been deflected by Kuma who aid him with kitty being carried by the neck by him.

"mkay! Thank ya!" Mika manage to approach Addy and that moment his eyes shine and Adimite who he lick in the cheek disappears with all the shards of him.

"Okii!" The kitty run toward Kuma and Kitty and the three booked out when another big cat, Mamacat appear and teleported them away, before a large shadow hand crash that place with a punch.

Bee stared at the direction as his soul link disappear and returning him back to his normal outfit.

His eyes that was lifeless slowly regain it's light as realization comes into him. He sigh as he fix the table. "Omea going to hate me for losing control. I'm not better than my other self..." He mumble feeling depress about it.

"That's what you care about ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ?!" Doll cannot believe this.

"I mean I felt bad about it... Only like a bit since Blood told me not to bully those who's weaker." Bee. (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

"your so strong bee! Also what was that earlier? You suddenly seems like blood for a moment... Minus the rizz." -Hallow commented. He was very worried about his friend but he was taken away by the cats maybe his fine since he is the lord of those kitty for some reason. He would go check on him late when his free.

"..." BEE CANNOT BELIEVE HALLOW SAID EVEN HIS SOUL LINK WITH BLOOD, HE CANNOT HAVE THE RIZZ.

"....." Sea stared at the fallen mochi in the floor, he suddenly felt depression as he tried to pick it up but reaper pulled his hand away."that's dirty."

"..." -Sea. But I still don't get my own share! Life is not fair.

[engagethelinkage]

One Year Later - Written April 24th-25th 2023

Today has marked 365 days around the sun since I stood up for myself and broke free of my relationship with [ex]. 365 days since I made a decision for the good of my own sanity for the first time in a very very long time.

A year is a long time, but also not a very long time at all. I've heard it's a decent metric for healing and progress, I'm not too sure about that. When I think of where I'm at it's plain to see that I'm a few squares behind where I was when I started dating her. I'm back to being terrified of sex and feeling unable to let anyone get close to me. Back to feeling like I don't deserve the physical contact I so deeply crave. Back to wanting to shut out the outside world and return fully to my hermitage. It's clear that my job is just a lucky break that means I can more feasibly attempt to carry on existing like this.

I know I'm not made for the real world; the world of full time work and a mortgage and 2.4 children. I'm not coded to function as just another bland cog in the machine, even though the anonymity of normality is one of my deepest desires. I was made with a series of statistical time bombs within my body and my neurochemistry that make it nearly impossible that I'll live past 40. I'd hoped to have lived some beautiful stories in those years, though tragedies are a special beauty too. As defective as I am I still had too much respect for myself to let the tragedy that was my relationship-my sentence with [ex] play out to the full beautiful ugliness of what it could've been. I considered that ending to my story; slowly giving up my hobbies and letting myself be eradicated piece by piece by the attrition of tiny constant adjustments just like her slowly taking every inch of the bed, all in exchange for physical warmth.

The truth is I really truly want to love someone again. I want to be able to open up to someone and trust them. But I don’t know if I can. It feels like I'm too broken to deserve anything other than abuse under a thin veneer of kindness. I don't know if I'm whole enough to love again knowing that if we don't break up then they'll lose me when I run out of time, or if death decides to carry on her sick joke of snatching people away from me, I lose them. My life is the one story I hated having the ending spoiled because it's made the whole journey feel empty. I wish I never knew this knowledge that has always lived in my brain, this foul truth that makes me feel undeserving of any sort of human comfort.

Last night for a split second I dreamt that I was in [ex]'s bedroom again, the fear that shot through me was enough to wake me instantly, but I still had the ghost of that terror in me. It’s the first time my own brain has pulled the eject cord during a nightmare and it was a dream about being near someone I was supposed to trust. The thing my mind fears most is being back with her, the single greatest fear I have is being back in her bed, and she was the person I chose to love and grew to resent. I told myself I'd never let a lover hurt me again. Promised myself. And here I am with another bag full of lead weights added to my baggage.

Now I truly don't know if I'll have sex again, I don't know if I'll ever be able to suppress my fear enough to trust a partner like that again. I don't know if I'll ever be able to accept a tender touch on my chest or a hand on my cheek. I don't know if I'll ever kiss someone again. [Ex] just drove all of my fears deeper and wrapped them in the confusion of "it's meant to feel like this". She hurt me so deeply and she gets to live in blissful ignorance of what she did to me. I have to struggle to sleep because I'm haunted by the fear I would feel walking into my own bedroom scared that she'd want another round of sex and she just gets to jump to a new partner in less than a month. It’s so fucking hard to not be bitter about it. The bitterness just becomes another recurring boil on my soul if I let it stew too long.

The bitterness doesn't last long, thankfully. I'm passed crying over her, but I can count all the new buckshot pellets she left in me.

I hope the terror fades in time, therapy is expensive. I can laugh at a lot of what she put me through now, I have to laugh at it or else I'll cry, but some things scarred me deeply. I don't know if it's possible for wounds that deep to heal on top of so much scar tissue. "A collection of stories and scars and a love for the arts" is what I called myself once. I'm also a creature that is extensively predisposed to fear, my existence is one of almost perpetual terror and my various unhealthy mechanisms of keeping it at bay; smoke another joint, recite the Litany Against Fear again, recite the futhark one more time. All to make it through the current wave of terror that paralyses my mind. She didn't put this terror in me, it's been in me for as long as I've lived, she just gave it new forms to take.

I'm still hurting, but I'm not sure how much of that hurt is from her anymore. [Ex] abused me, I can admit that. But after all the abuse I've experienced from others, I can see that she left me with very few new scars. I'm broken, but she didn't break me, I've not killed this version of me to hide from the memories, my hair remains uncut.

I cannot say that I will heal, but I take solace - a sense of victory if I'm honest - in the fact that I am still this version of me.