#i still got blood on a box and i wanted to cry seeing it all over the cardboard

[pixelizedprince]

Good news: im covered for tetanus for the next ten years

Bad news: i did slice my finger at work via dirty boxcutter and now feel hella nauseous from everything

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[deadghosy]

I love your work so much imagine ben Drowned in hasbin hotel.

Them crawling out of the TV and alistor is like I don't like tv but can you mess with vox😭.

SURE!! LOL! 🦆💗If anyone wants to do a creepypasta! Reader, I will make it a fanon version cause that’s most easier since I’ve always seen the fanon side of creepypasta when I was into the fandom💗

HAZBIN HOTEL X BEN DROWNED! READER

prompt: after jumping into a tv to hide from being stabbed by Jeff…you accidentally went into a show called HAZBIN HOTEL……

Your dumbass didn’t even check what was on tv…it was just left on as you are now falling to a city in a shape of a…..pentagram?

Welll shit…you are in a hell cartoon…

Meanwhile with Jeff: “where the fuck is that short tacked bitch…” he said holding his knife tightly as his eyes glanced at the tv. “That bastard!”

MEANWHILE WITH YOU: You pointed to a service pole and started to surge through the electrical wire into some random old tv box. You pressed your hand through the tv screen and came out of it. As you came out of it a gasp was heard to see a bunch of characters…..oh boy…

After basically getting chased around the hotel and interrogated…they let you stay by Charlie’s words as she was excited to have another member to her crew at last. 

Few weeks later, they have gotten use to you. I mean Alastor still keeps an eye on you as you play games and go through electronics around the place.

Angel thinks it’s funny for you to hack Valentino’s page to make his bio say “I have a small dick.”

Vaggie makes you go out on errands until she can find you a decent duty at least. But she appreciates how you help around a lot.

Husk thinks your pretty annoying because of your gen z & gen alpha humor. I headcannon ben and you to basically be a media specialist to learn the lingo around and to understand the generation.

“Hey husk…” “hey kid…” “you’re so not alpha male…” “…the fuck?” “Sooo not slay.” “Get the fuck out my face.” *cue you doing a gremlin ass laugh*

I can see Velvette making fun of you for wearing the link fit😭 she would be confused as if you were a stinky cosplayer kid-

“GOOD HELL?! What are you wearing dear..” the female vee says as you look down to your link outfit. “What’s wrong with it? I think I look ✨f a b u l o u s✨” you said with sass

“You look horrendous. THAT’S what you look like.” Velvette says. You rolled your eyes as she snapped her fingers giving you black converses, tan brown pants, and a green hoodie. She had let you keep your link hat as you actually liked how you looked.

Maybe when you get back to slender’s mansion you can spend his card to buy an outfit like this.

I imagine Charlie or niffty trying to wipe off the blood tears of your eyes thinking you were crying as you stand there like “what is going on-🤨” most definitely the face look like this “:T”

Angel dust brought you a gaming set from a thrift shop as you smiled happily at this and started to play….only to find out it had knock off versions of the games in the human world….impta?! (GTA) PENTACRAFT?! (Minecraft) hellmon?? (Pokémon)

You immediately thrown the gaming set outside and decided to go hack Vox’s system for fun again.

I can imagine reader sending random “if you don’t like this, Lucifer is coming for you.” posts to random sinner to fuck with them.

I can DEFINITELY see Alastor asking you to go mess with Vox’s tech even if he doesn’t like those picture boxes. “Ben/Reader, my fine fellow..I got a favor to ask of you.” After he asked you to go mess with this dude named Vox. You smiled as you transported into your own tv and go to the vee tower.

You hacked into Vox’s system as he spit his coffee out to see “nya cat” on all his computers and devices as you snicker seeing Vox’s face trying to fix it. You laughed showing yourself as your bloody tears roll down your face because of laughing. “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Vox asked angrily

“IM YOU! BUT BETTER! GET HACKED LOSER!” You said before disappearing from his system as Vox claws his desk in anger.

Alastor had a good chuckle when you told him what you did. “I never liked this picture boxes…but you my friend, are true entertainment.” After this your relationship with Alastor grew as he would pay you handsomely with snacks as you go and piss Vox off on any other day.

Valentino and Vox hate your guys to the point they want to kill you while Velvette is just chill with you as she helps you with your outfits and aesthetics.

I imagine since Ben drowned also looks like link, you have long hair like link but sometimes cut it down to bit length to not trip on it.

You give off that “new worker at McDonald’s” vibes as you would just play around instead of helping the residents😭

“Can I have keycard?” “….how about no?”

I imagine you just tapping on and off a lamp post boredly as Valentino keeps going towards it and away from. “On….off…on…off…” you liked to mess with people

You had tapped on sir Pentious’s device once and it exploded…yeah you were pretty much banned from his room and lab. But it was worth it.

You definitely wrestle with husk as husk will just try to claw out your eyes only him to just get pepper sprayed by you.

“AGG MY FUCKIN' EYES!!” “I didn’t know this shit would work on demons..”

Lucifer was definitely intrigued with your appearance as you seemed like a human. But also had a demonic appearance. So he questioned you and you just kept saying “SWAG!” He got tired of it and demanded you as the ruler of hell.

It didn’t work as you just shrug with a “:D” face and transported into a wire. Lucifer was bamboozled as he just stood there like “what just happened”

You showed niffty how to beat any person during a game as you, yourself is a hacker and can beat any game personally.

You looked at the phone that you stole from that flat faced dude as you smirked having an idea as you transported into the phone to try and go find Jeff. And lucky you did as he was sitting on the couch watching wrestling.

“Heyyy buddy.” You said looking through the tv to see Jeff. He scoffed seeing that his favorite program was ruined by your face. Jeff turned off the tv. Your face was like a pikachu shocked face. “THAT BITC-”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Deadpool with a teenager protege plsss, thank youuu!

Wade will always claim that he never wanted a side kick.

‘Protege’ you’d correct him on the fly.

‘That’s a way too big of a word to be in your vocabulary so suddenly little featus.’ He’d quickly say in response before going in to boop you on the noose, only for you to swat his hand away.

Wade as a mentor was so unserious it hurt.

He tried to shoo you away as though you were a stray fucking cat trying to follow him home or something!

There was no point in searching for any deep wisdom from him when anything he said was rude and rather crude for some people, you’re better off finding wisdom in a brick wall then wade, but still you were stuck with the human personification of intrusive thoughts.

He was the devil on your shoulder telling you to dropkick the elderly down a flight of stairs or send them floating down a river in a box (not blind Al tho) and or to kill/kidnap and torture the enemy in your love life.

Wade acts like he hates having you follow him like a lost puppy but the moment he losses sight of you he runs amok, claiming that his ‘mother’s adrenaline’ was kicking in and he had to find you while causing death and destruction in his path.

He wasn’t the ideal person you should be following in the footsteps of and he knew it too, but by this point he had grown an attachment to you and he knew in that moment he was fucked, royally, up the ass with no lube nor warning beforehand.

(He likes a pre-warning countdown before he gets royally fucked in the ass)

You bicker more often then not about how to handle things and it ends with the enemy often getting away, which then becomes even more unnecessary bickering!

‘He got away! Again!’ You’d cry.

‘I’m not the one who wanted to talk all peace and love with the guy in hopes it would change him, this isn’t booktok little fetus!’ Wade would shout back.

‘You were going to kill him without finding out where the rest of them were based at!’ You screamed incredulously, waving your hands towards the twin guns in his gloved hands as though it wasn’t obvious enough.

‘You’re in time out.’ Wade said. ‘Go and sit in the taxi with Dopinder and think about what you’ve done!’

‘Fuck you, you ain’t my dad!’ - you

‘That’s it! No Mac and cheese when we get home!’ -Wade, crossing his arms.

‘I hate you wrinkle dick!’ - you shouting over your shoulder as you walked towards the taxi.

To anyone else It looked more like siblings fighting rather than a mentor and protege going at one another for the second fuck up that day.

While it may look like Wade doesn’t take anything seriously, if you were to get seriously hurt however, it was a different side of him entirely. He’s doing things that you have never seen him do before and just how terrifying he could be with how effortlessly he moved through the goons as though they weren’t shit before making it to your side.

Whether you can heal like him is up to you, but regardless Wade will make sure that your wounds weren’t too deep or too serious for him to handle. He didn’t want to see his protege hurt, not on his watch, you had very much became his child over the course of your time as mentor and protege, so much that he was finally allowing himself to sit with the feeling he had been having for a long while.

He cared. He really cared and it kinda scared him as how was he suppose to look after someone else when he couldn’t even look after himself? He didn’t want you to end up like him as he knew you could be greater but was too selfish to let you wander too far away from him, not without feeling that tug within his chest that told him to keep an eye out.

You never knew what you were getting with deadpool/Wade Wilson, he was unpredictable and chaotic but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you were to do anything that was too ‘Wade’ he would pretend to wipe a tear as you looked back at him with a smile as though you didn’t have blood on your face, and fake a sniffle.

‘That’s my little featus, I birthed them from my womb and now they just began to run with their tinny, stumpy baby legs.’

Wolverine next to him like: 🤨what the fuck are you on about-

Wade: shhhh, I’m being proud of my tiny creation, don’t ruin this for me with your toxic macho man brooding.

Needless to say you need to be a little bit mental to have someone like Wade as your mentor.

[0-n-1-x]

WBC!Carl Gallagher x Rich/Northside!reader

link to my masterlist <33

Your private school requires you to do community service, and you’re assigned to help out at a youth center in the Southside. It’s far from your usual environment, and you feel a bit out of place, but you’re determined to make the best of it. You could've gone to the pet center, like the other girls your age, but you desperately needed to get out of suburbia. Carl, who occasionally visits the center for free meals or to hang out, notices you the moment you walk in. You’re clearly not from around here, and he’s instantly curious about why someone like you would be spending time in his hood. At first, Carl’s interactions with you are laced with sarcasm and teasing. He pokes fun at your clean-cut appearance and the way you seem so out of your element, but there’s no real malice behind his words— mostly curiosity. I mean remember this is still Carl, just in the body of a wanna-be gangster

You actually responded to his quips just as quickly as he spoke them, but you also spoke with interest, most of it in your appearance

I'd believe that you aren't full a nepo baby, I like to headcanon that you'd be half or part southside, having spent time there young and maybe one of your parents married rich and such

But you do know how to make your words somewhat powerful, and that intrigues Carl, in a different way than trying to scam the other kids

You’re organizing supplies in the back room of the community center, stacking boxes of canned goods for the food drive. It’s your second day volunteering here, and you’re still getting used to the place. The door creaks open, and you glance up to see the same boy from yesterday leaning against the frame, watching you with an amused smirk. “You lost or something? This isn’t exactly the country club.” he says. Crossing his arms, he saunters into the room, eyes glinting with curiosity. Without missing a beat, you straighten up, brushing the dust off your hands before replying

“I could say the same thing. You don’t look like you’re here to volunteer.”

“Nah, just checking out the new blood. It’s not every day we get someone like you around here. You sure you can handle it? This place can get a little rough.”

“I’m tougher than I look. Besides, I’m not here to play it safe.”

“Is that right? Most people like you wouldn’t last a day down here. You must really be slumming it to end up in this part of town.”

“Real, huh? Well, you definitely found it. But be careful—get too close, and this place might suck you in.”

“Maybe I’m counting on it. I like a challenge, I guess I’ll just have to see for myself.”

He grins, finally extending a hand "Gallagher, Carl Gallagher" You reach for his hand, “Nice to meet you, Carl. Now, are you gonna help me with these boxes, or just stand there and look all pretty?”

After a few days of volunteering, (its mostly you guys talking) he invites you out with him on a 'tour'. You visit The Alibi, his corner, and he ends the trip by taking you to his house

The Gallagher house, if you could call it that, was way different than yours. Not just in size, but in functionality, you hear 3 different people screaming talking and a baby crying with loud video games noises in the background. Luckily, when Carl takes you to the basement which of course resembles what you identify as a 'mancave' there's no one there and its mostly silent

"So.. nice family uh- ya got there?" you joke, slightly uncomfortable in the bean bag he sits you on, the pleats of your plaid skirt ruffling up and you don't miss the way his eye flicker down and the way his cheeks blush peach "Um, y-yeah, it's not always like that but it usually is"

For Carl: it's weird that he's drawn to you, southside kids are literally raised to the 'eat the rich' mindset. Especially Gallaghers, but he couldn't help but want to spill everything he knows and even what he doesn't to you. So he does, he tells you about juvie, about the dysfunctionality of Gallaghers and their shit, fuck he even tells you about Monica

You guys talk for what comes across as hours. Part of him is scared that he opened up to quickly, but surprisingly you listen, without judgement. You even mention how you find some of his life similar to yours. The feelings of being ignored, or in your case paid to go away (which Carl finds not too bad).

As you speak, he moves from his beanbag chair to yours, inching and inching closer together you eventually are a breaths away from one another. You halt your speech, all your well thought out analogies fading away as you both look between the other's eyes and lips.

Carl speaks, "is it crazy.. that I find it really hot when you talk about being rich?" you pause, a sly smile reaching upon your face as you answer "no.. is it crazy that i find it really hot when you talk about being poor?"

More silence fills the room, then Carl brings his eyes straight down to your lips. "No" he whispers, as light as humanly possible

And that's when it happens. you lean in, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the rough-and-tumble image he usually projects. You close your eyes, leaning into his touch. The kiss starting out rushed, messy, and all over the place. But it's not lustful, more childish if anything and you both have no idea what you're doing.

His hand hesitantly moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. You respond in kind, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him even closer

When you finally pull back after what feels like forever, you’re both breathless, panting as your bodies gasp for air. Carl’s thumb gently returns and strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. But all he finds is a soft smile and the lingering warmth of the kiss you just shared.

“Damn,” he mutters, a crooked grin spreading across his face as he leans back slightly, still keeping you close. “You’ve got me all messed up, you know that?" you respond

Then it hits you, that was your first kiss

and it was with Carl fucking Gallagher

[inklore]

if it's one thing your girl is great at it's making a million different google docs full of lists full of resources, ideas, etc that will help future me when it comes to posting fics.

fic titles are literally one of the biggest lists i have and not even in a perfect world where i write ten fics a day would i ever be able to use all of these, and i don't like to see things go to waste, and i know there's people out there that struggle with titles as much as i do. so i hope this list comes in handy for someone!

i don't think i need to say this but just in case: no one owns fic titles, anyone can use these, a dozen people or one or none. these are literally just words and letters. no one owns them. sharing is caring, enjoy lovies!

★ — ONE WORD.

overboard 

runaway 

repercussions 

sledgehammer 

stargazing 

symmetry 

deathless 

honey 

retrograde 

stitches 

gravity 

helpline 

hollow 

suffer 

pushing 

warrant 

want 

wonder 

emotions 

nonchalant 

lavender 

daydream 

nosebleed 

jigsaw 

static 

float 

limbs 

hologram 

careless 

lush 

rotting 

phonograph 

hypnotic 

splinters 

magnetic 

wasted 

lithium 

dealer 

she

candles 

sabotage 

secrets

better

crescendo

deny

phenomenon

nights

guilty

move

criminal

blue

rise

thirsty

strangers

clockwork

closer

hectic

change

somebody

more

misery

like

sour

lowkey

peaches

she

nervous

sympathy

scars

disappear

melody

gemini

cruel

persona

supernatural

nectar

obsessed

casual

tryant

xo

dare

honestly

yummy

out

paradise

nuts

groin

heaven

lost

stardust

tangerine

monolith

lunch

pov

perfume

dealer

tough

arson

★ — TWO WORDS.

hush hush

night away

heart stop

stone heart

waiting for

black rose

sad kids

spine breaker

look here

autumn leaves

for you

spring day

love maze

bad decisions

take two

wild flower

blue side

rainy days

face off

slow dancing

polar night

like crazy

club heaven

deeper water

romantic devil

hold me

angel eyes

picture you

after midnight

twilight zone

drain me

sorry sorry

pretty please

how sweet

bubble gum

empty box

love therapy

play me

red velvet 

cherry bullet 

midnight guest 

cherry wish 

code words

ghost walk

bad intentions 

atlas hands 

broken crown 

crystallized words 

filthy pride 

fresh eyes 

heavy feet 

hungry ghosts 

imaginary paintings 

neon jungle 

perfect storm 

slow hands 

stop signs 

sad farewells 

untranslated stars 

after hours 

bad liar 

bonfire heart 

bruised lips 

cherry bomb 

damaged goods 

dead end 

fire away 

gunpowder hourglass 

lonely together 

lost language 

old moons 

one dance 

paper knees 

sleepy eyes 

stolen dance 

vice city 

artificial heart 

cry baby 

daylight fading 

dream awake 

empty bottle 

exit wounds 

ghost orchards 

moving stones 

paper walls 

oceans away 

playing fiction 

something wild 

wild thoughts 

everybody’s fool 

eyes closed 

storms incarnate 

writing tragedies 

stereo driver 

soul searching 

party’s over 

backseat driving 

fearful heart 

backwards directions 

nosebleed seats 

high hopes 

lovers rock

wet dream 

selfish soul 

washed away 

rose rogue 

midnight sun 

teenage fantasy 

wandering romance 

sure thing 

wildest dreams 

rock candy

losing momentum 

ruin you 

heart holiday 

sink her 

cut splinters 

hot mess 

frozen devotion 

little star 

blind faith 

favorite crime 

romantic homicide 

those eyes 

play pretend 

plot line 

pretty poison 

intimidate you 

pretty face 

strawberry kisses 

lovers rock 

worlds apart 

desperate/separate ways 

those eyes 

the blonde 

loving machine 

spill blood

someone’s someone

★ — THREE WORDS.

got my number

happy without me

not over you

crazy for you

back to you

flame of love

just one day

let me know

hold me tight

make it right

closer than this

love me again

still with you

out of love

never let go

love in space

ready to bleed 

bleed for love

between the bars 

can’t be still

cold morning mist 

in cold blood

matter of time 

piece by piece 

ship to wreck 

taut with love 

waste a moment 

can’t see straight 

down and out 

in a blackout 

just like fire 

notes on tenderness 

across the room

fire with fire 

going half-mad

loving to ruins 

rust to gold

send my love 

talking in code 

cradling a dream 

cut to black 

dear to me 

run me dry 

dancing with demons 

kiss and tell 

if you care 

the cry out 

steal this night 

just for now 

heart on fire 

hold my head 

nobody but you 

simple and plain

a familiar sound 

fool for you 

drown your memory 

falling into you 

just like heaven 

warm like beaches 

love that stings 

rotting in places 

moves on you 

save your tears 

a single tear 

light my cigarette 

long nights, daydreams 

boys like you 

love me forever 

hands on me 

like a phonograph 

taking over me 

dug so deep 

touch the ground 

heart shaped box 

where’s my love

tears of gold

lover of mine 

love me wrong

kiss or kill 

exes and why’s 

love is easy 

stupid in love 

easy to love

lost with you 

glimpse of us 

keep you safe 

death with dignity 

just like heaven 

heart of glass 

baby i’m yours 

pull my strings 

★ — FOUR+ WORDS.

love me a little

happy without me

you can't hold my heart

wishing on a star

give it to me

around the world in a day

waste it on me

this mess is yours

feeling like i do 

on a war path 

blood on the surface 

corner of the sky 

do the divine love 

drinking the corinthian sun 

everything is laced in (add word) 

lost in the moment 

in the nick of time 

mouth like a pomegranate 

the bones you’re made of 

when the mania speaks 

all desire & no thought 

blue in the face 

collapsing and relapsing 

middle of the night 

sail to the sun 

lay down your arms 

falling into the sky 

take me where your heart is 

she’s like the bad weather 

kill for your love 

the cigarette and the smoker 

the match and the fuse 

saint, i’m a sinner 

when the sky comes falling 

pretty little hand in mine 

even when the sun don’t shine

staring at the sun / sunset 

tangled up with you all night 

paper airplanes flying 

maybe i’m a fool 

tastes like rock candy 

blood in a lemon

(a) heart ready to die 

fate is losing its patience 

at least we feel alive 

death for your secrets 

someone’s gonna ruin you 

dancing in a crowded room 

smell you on my clothes 

always taste like you 

leave me wanting more 

hunger for (insert here) 

swim before you drown 

put your hands on me 

drink my (these) tears and cry 

i’d sleep all day just to dream of you 

so high we never stood a chance 

i’d break down anytime for you 

maybe i’m wrong, or maybe it’s true 

i only breathe so that i breathe with you

a worn out cassette 

lips on my cold neck 

talking in my sleep 

make me feel like someone else 

locked inside your heart 

hooked on her flesh 

it’s bloody and raw 

the angel of small death 

just a couple sinners 

smiles cover your heart 

charmer and the snake 

stuck on your thumb 

if i killed someone for you 

dancing with your ghost 

i miss you, i’m sorry 

woman of the hour 

shut up and look pretty 

queen of the night 

devil in a dress 

the thought of you 

to be your lover 

falling over you 

just like a movie 

love on the line 

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 24: comfort food

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

TW: This is fluff, but I think it might lean more into a hurt/comfort trope. Also, it's hinted that the reader is dealing with depression, so if you're sensitive to the topic, you might want to skip this day!!

Hugs to all the people who are going through a tough time. I suffer from this disorder myself and I know it's complicated, but things can always get better. It's a great day for you to live and I love you

Spencer was in the kitchen, silent. He couldn’t help but notice that you had been feeling quite down in the past few days. Although he had his suspicions, he hadn’t dared to ask you directly. The clearest sign was your constant desire to stay in your room, only coming out for strictly necessary reasons. It wasn’t that he was the type to notice those things, but he picked up on even the subtlest details. You hadn’t showered, or at least not that he had seen. The accumulation of small signs was what worried him.

What could he do? It would be too intrusive to just knock on your door and ask for an explanation. He had no right to demand something like that from you, and invading your privacy would be a mistake. He knew that forcing a conversation wasn’t the solution, especially with you. However, worry gnawed at him from the inside. He wanted to see you smile again, or at least for you to come out of your shell. He thought and thought about how to approach you without seeming intrusive until an idea struck him: prepare breakfast. It was something that wouldn’t seem intentional or accusatory. Besides, if you didn’t feel like talking, you could simply take the food back to your room.

He knew how much you loved waffles; so much so that after several discussions about how much you spent on boxes of Eggos, you both had decided to invest in a waffle maker. Spencer didn’t consider himself a professional chef, but he could manage the basics. With determination, he got to work.

While he whisked the batter, he didn’t realize you had come into the kitchen until he turned around and saw you sitting at the dining table.

“Hi!” he exclaimed, somewhat surprised to see you there.

“Are you making waffles?” you asked, trying to look over his shoulder. “I could recognize that smell anywhere.”

As he observed you, Spencer noticed the traces of crying on your face. He said nothing; instead, he approached with a plate and gently set it in front of you.

“You’ll have the privilege of eating first. Just because you came over,” he said with a warm smile.

You made a small grimace; it wasn’t quite a full smile, but it expressed gratitude. You knew he wasn’t an idiot and had noticed your absence. Still, you felt at peace that he hadn’t pressured you to talk. On the plate, besides two freshly made waffles, there were blueberries scattered on top. Spencer also offered you jam, hazelnut spread, and honey so you could enjoy your breakfast however you wanted.

“Did you make coffee?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something light.

“Hot oat milk,” he corrected you. With the same care, he placed a cup in front of you. “Did you know that drinking oat milk in the mornings is beneficial? It provides sustained energy, improves digestion thanks to its fiber, helps regulate blood sugar levels, and reduces bad cholesterol, so to speak. Plus, it’s rich in essential nutrients like B vitamins, iron, and magnesium, which support good overall health.”

“But it smells like coffee,” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’ll drink coffee; you’ll have hot oat milk”

You sighed, slightly offended by the distinction. When you asked why, he simply said he wanted you to stay healthy. Although he didn’t say it explicitly, his eyes said it all: he was worried about you. Despite that, you didn’t want to talk about what was going on. You knew he would understand everything you were going through, but you were exhausted—too tired to express how you felt.

The first bite of the waffle tasted heavenly; it was the first thing you enjoyed in days. “Do you have something for today?” he asked cautiously, trying to initiate a conversation. You shook your head. “If you’re up for it, maybe we can go out somewhere. Anywhere you want,” he suggested, hoping that would cheer you up.

“You don’t like being around people,” you replied softly, looking at him with a hint of irony.

“We can go to a place where there’s no one. Or we can just go to a park... I don’t know, wherever you feel like.”

“Spencer,” you interrupted him suddenly. From the tone of your voice, he thought he might have done something wrong. “I really appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but honestly, I don’t have the energy to go anywhere. And please, don’t pity me. I know it sounds strange, but I just want you to keep seeing me as your friend, okay? I’m not what I’m going through; it’s just... a setback,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. “I came here because I want to be with you. Being here distracts me from everything else. So please, I beg you to treat me like you always have. I’m still me.”

“I didn’t imply otherwise,” he said softly. “I just thought we could do something to lift your spirits.”

“This... you making my favorite food and having breakfast with me is what makes me feel better,” you confessed with a sincerity he appreciated.

Spencer was touched by your words and nodded gently.

“Do you want to talk about something?” he offered with the same patience as always.

“Not right now. Maybe later.”

“Do you want more waffles?”

“One, please.”

“Do you need a hug?”

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you leaned slightly toward him, and Spencer understood the message immediately. You knew you could trust him; he would never judge you. So why was it so hard for you to speak? Why did the words get stuck in your throat?

You wanted to cry, but it was as if all your tears had run dry. Instead, you clung to him, feeling the warmth of his body and the thudding of his heart. You just stayed there, leaning against him, letting his comforting scent and closeness soothe you.

“Thank you for being such a good friend. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” you murmured, trying not to sound broken.

“Psh, don’t say that,” he gently scolded you. He still had you in his arms. “Whenever you need me, I’m just a hallway away.”

For the first time in days, you laughed. That’s what you liked about him: the trust he gave you, even though he considered himself insecure. The bond between you had strengthened thanks to sharing so many everyday things.

“The waffles... they’re so good. What did you put in them?” you asked suddenly, pulling away from him and wiping your cheeks out of habit, even though you hadn’t shed a single tear.

“I used the classic recipe, but I added extra banana and nuts to give them a different texture.”

“I hate bananas!” you exclaimed, with a spark of enthusiasm in your voice. “How do they taste so good here?”

“You see, it all comes down to a chemical matter in the properties of food when they combine...” he began to explain, launching into one of his usual dissertations about things you didn’t quite understand.

But you stayed listening attentively because the sound of his voice was more comforting than anything else that crossed your mind. Sometimes, having a roommate like Spencer was all you needed to make those tough moments more bearable.

[gravehags]

hold me now

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x f!Reader (Curator!Reader)

Rating: Teen

Tags: couple fight, well less a fight than copia fucking up supremely, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, anxiety, secondo once again being a real one

Words: 2,587

Summary: You've never heard that tone from Copia before period let alone directed at you.

a/n: copia baby your anxiety and freeze response...

~~~

He can feel the headache coming on, throbbing right behind his eyes and the base of his skull from staring too long at spreadsheets and numbers and stupid fucking emails from his fellow clergy members. 

Sister Imperator on his ass, like always. Nihil on his ass, like always. You’re pacing back and forth in front of his desk, chattering animatedly about…he’s not even sure, all he can focus on is the static in his brain and the blood rushing in his ears and the noise of your voice and–

He barks your name once. That’s all it takes to have you stopped in your tracks, slowly turning to face him. When the next words out of his mouth come sharp like a whip crack, he sees you physically recoil.

Enough. Quiet.

Immediately he’s filled with regret as he watches you back away towards the door, fidgeting with your fingers. He knows what he needs to do - what he needs to say - but he’s paralyzed with fear and exhaustion. His mouth opens but no sound comes out.

“S-sorry,” you say, your voice uncharacteristically small and high, the way it gets when you’re holding back tears, “sorry I’ll just–”

By the time he reaches out to you, still unable to speak, you’ve already got your back turned to him and he watches you leave and shut his door with a gentle snap. In an instant he forgets about his headache, about the stressors, about everything that isn’t the horror that settles in his belly like lead. He wants to get up, go after you, apologize on bended knee but he just…sits. 

Sathanas, what have I done?

—

You’re proud of yourself, you don’t cry until after you return to your office. As soon as the door shuts though, an ugly sob is wrenched from your throat and you collapse into the empty chair opposite your desk. You can’t form a coherent thought, all you can do is bawl into your hands and shake.

He’s done with you, that familiar, horrid little voice says. He’s finally had enough of your verbal diarrhea, of the silly inconsequential things that come out of you. He realized your mouth is only good for one thing and nattering isn’t it.

You know the wail that comes out of you is pathetic as snot and tears pour down your face and you slide out of the chair and onto the floor. Pressing your back against the desk, you draw your legs up as tight as you can, rocking gently back and forth. The look on his face - the anger, the annoyance - is burned into your memory. It’s wholly unlike your love but the fact that he hasn’t come after you…well. Clearly he meant what he said. You heave a shaky sigh and lean forward to fumble behind you for the box of tissues on your desk. It was a good run, you suppose. You always thought you were unlovable and here’s the proof. To think that he would tolerate you and your annoying habits for the rest of your lives was simply naive. 

You’re just a naive, stupid, annoying little girl.

Your tears slowly cease and you diligently wipe up the streaks of mascara on your cheeks.

You won’t bother him anymore.

—

Two days. Almost three. That’s how long has passed since his horrific outburst in his office and he still hasn’t apologized to you. The guilt gnaws at him, tearing him up, but in all truth he’s not sure how to make the situation right. And he’s embarrassed, Sathanas, looking and sounding like an irritable old man. It’s the longest he’s gone without seeing you in ages and fuck, he misses you desperately. Misses your smile, your laugh, how excitable you get when you’re talking about something you care about. Misses the very thing he chastised you and hurt your feelings for, fotutto idiota. He doesn’t blame you for not coming to his quarters or visiting him during work hours. He certainly wouldn’t blame you for being done with him, with this relationship. The lump in his throat gets worse and worse as he hustles down the corridor, tears blurring his vision. He’s nowhere near his office when he slams into something solid.

“Watch where you’re–oh, Cardinal.”

“Mi scusi,” he chokes out, dodging Secondo’s gaze and trying to hurry past him before his brother can see the streaks of black running down his cheeks but judging from the way one large hand wraps around his bicep, it’s too late.

“Copia, what is wrong?” Secondo’s voice is low and concerned as he steers him into an empty seminar room, shutting the door behind them. As soon as the latch clicks Copia lets out a whimper and then a sob.

“I hurt her!” he cries and Secondo starts.

“What do you mean you hurt her? Copia, I know you did not physically harm her because brother or not, if you laid a hand on her you know I’d–”

“No!” Copia gasps, astonished and sickened at the implication. “I would sooner cut off my own hand than raise it to her, you know this. No I-I…I hurt her feelings.”

Secondo seems relieved, but only slightly.

“What did you do?”

His lip trembles as he recalls the events of the other day to his brother. When he’s finished, Secondo crosses his arms.

“And you did not go after her? Che cazzo, stronzo?” he growls, shoving Copia into a chair. “What must she think now that her beloved was cruel to her and did not offer an apology? Copia you’ve always been self-sabotaging but this is a new low.”

Ouch.

“I…I don’t know what came over me after she left my office. My heart told me to chase after her, to make it right but I just…couldn’t move. It was like…like my brain was telling me that I didn’t deserve her in the first place so I shouldn’t push my luck. That she deserves someone…better.”

“What utter bullshit,” Secondo scoffs, and Copia can feel his face go red in shame, “You don’t deserve her? Well maybe you don’t after this but Copia she chose to be with you. To love you and care for you. And you insult her and her choice by trying to make the choice for her with your wretched behavior? Vergognatevi, Copia Emeritus.”

Copia knows Secondo is right but it doesn’t make the dull ache in his chest any better.

“How do I fix this?” he asks quietly.

“Go to her, firstly, you fucking idiot. Bring her something nice, that will make her smile. But wait until she’s back in her rooms tonight, I’m sure she’s had enough of crying in her office. And tell her how you truly feel and how sorry you are. And if she forgives you then don’t be this stupid again. If she doesn’t forgive you, well…perhaps I’ll treat her better.”

Copia’s head jerks up and Secondo looks down at him with a smirk.

“So you better work hard to make her forgive you, huh? Otherwise she’s getting a ride on the Italian Stallion, capisci?”

“Ugh disgusting,” Copia grunts, standing up, “I don’t know why I was always worried about Terzo stealing her when you’re even worse. Stay away from my amore.”

“Then you better work damn hard to make sure she remains your amore.”

“Any eh, tips?”

“I don’t know, flagellate yourself in front of her,” Secondo says, turning to leave, “She looks like she’s into that.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Copia grumbles as they exit the classroom. A passing elderly sister looks at him and jumps with her hand over her heart.

“Clean yourself up first, huh?” Secondo says, straightening Copia’s cassock, “You look like the nun from The Nun.”

“Grazie mille, shithead. I think I know exactly what to do.”

“Bene. Now get to work.” With a clap on his shoulder and a wink, Secondo strides away. 

Right, Copia thinks, first the bathroom, then Primo’s greenhouse.

He only hopes it’s not too late.

—

Two days. Two fucking days and he hasn’t said shit to you. Hasn’t even attempted to say shit to you. Your pain and embarrassment morphs into anger on the dawn of the second day when you check your phone and see no texts, no missed calls. The hurt is still there, that ache in your chest that doesn’t really go away, but you’re truly floored that he could be so casually cruel to you then act like you simply don’t exist. Maybe it’s over (and the notion makes tears well in your eyes and makes you choke on each breath) but don’t you deserve to hear it from his lips? That’s all it takes to have you sobbing again as you attempt to brush your teeth, dejectedly spitting out toothpaste into the sink. It’s early, ridiculously early to be in your nightgown getting ready for bed but every night without Copia has been agony and all you want is to no longer be conscious. You pad over to your nightstand and are about to check your phone simply out of habit when there’s a loud knock at the door and you freeze. Part of you - the petty, horrible part - considers ignoring it the way he’s ignored you. Letting him stew. But your heart is ultimately what pulls you towards the door and has you opening it. Your lip wobbles when you see him before you - in his clean red cassock, no biretta  - but you pride yourself on remaining tearless. He looks incredibly nervous and nauseated as he beholds you.

“Eh…may I come in?”

You say nothing but stand aside and gesture for him to enter. It’s not until he’s fully inside your apartment you see the healthy bouquet of lily of the valley behind his back and your icy demeanor melts a little. He hands them to you, eyes dodging yours like a fifth grader with a crush. It’s charming, you can’t lie. You take the flowers from him and he watches you carefully as you fill up a vase and place them in it.

“Kinda…kinda gives you déjà vu, no?” he laughs nervously, “Except–”

“Except you brought me orange roses the first time.”

His cheeks go red.

“Right, right,” another half a minute passes of you resting your weight on your hip with your arms crossed and him fidgeting with his cuffs. You’re about to ask him to get it over with if he’s breaking up with you when–

“Amore, I do not have sufficient words to describe how incredibly sorry I am for my behavior the other day. And then for abandoning you in the days since…not only have I insulted you but I have insulted this relationship. Our relationship. Something horrid came over me that day and you did not deserve to bear the brunt of my foul mood. I know it must mean little now but as soon as I said it I-I felt sick to my stomach.”

“You didn’t come after me,” you say, sniffling and staring ahead at the bejeweled grucifix on his chest, “I knew I really fucked up when you didn’t come after me–”

“Amore you…you think what I did was a reflection on you? That you…don’t tell me you believe you deserved this?”

Your vision is going blurry and you swear internally.

“I thought you were, y’know, done with me. Done with my chatter a-and annoying habits and–”

Copia crosses the floor and takes your hands in his.

“How could I be ‘done’ with everything that makes you…you? Dolcezza, I love all of your facets, even the ones you believe to be ‘annoying’. How could I deny anything that is a part of you?”

“Then why did you tell me to be quiet? Why didn’t you come after me? Why did you just let me sit all these days assuming the worst?”

Silence rings out in the small apartment after your last loud statement and Copia looks as if he wants nothing more than to tear his heart out of his chest and present it to you, still beating in his palm.

“Oh cara,” he whispers, “I was having such a-a difficult day. Everything had gone wrong and I could feel a migraine starting and…none of it matters. I should never have lashed out at you and I curse my brain and body for not allowing me to chase after you. There’s no excuse for what I did…for how I abandoned you these past few days and…I understand if you would like to end our relationship.”

Your heart plummets.

“Is that what you want?” you ask softly, voice cracking pathetically, “I just…I assumed the worst after you didn’t try to see me–”

A noise halfway between a sob and a sigh is wrenched from Copia as he falls to his knees before you.

“Amata mia, all I want in this world is you. Your love. Nothing else matters. Only death can rid you of me, I swear to Sathanas. Do…do you feel the same?”

Tears are freely pouring down your cheeks as you look upon the man you love and the way his eyes are upturned to you seeking repentance.

“You know I love you more than anything,” you whisper, “God, we really fucked this one up, huh?”

“Not you, amore mio, me. From start to finish this was my fault and for that I am so, so sorry. I hope you will somehow forgive me–”

You scoff wetly, looking down at him with a smile.

“Is this just what two people with anxiety in love are like?”

He lets out a small laugh.

“Heh…maybe. Surely we’re not the first. Or the last.”

“We should start a support group,” you say, letting go of his hands and gripping his shoulders, “and as pretty as you look in your vestments on your knees, you can get up, my love.”

“I would stay here forever should you command it.”

Hmm. That sounds nice.

“Come to bed with me, Cardinal,” you say softly and obediently he rises to his feet. “I’ve slept like shit without you.”

“And I you,” Copia says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Abruptly, you wrap your arms around him and hold him tight.

“I love you,” you murmur into the red wool covering his chest.

“Love you too, anima mia,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, “and I am sorry for everything.”

The two of you embrace one another in the quiet for a moment before you speak.

“Hmm did we just have our first fight?”

“Eh, I don’t know if it was as much a fight as it was me being a fucking idiot and you having the infinite grace to forgive me.”

“Oh, okay. I guess that rules out make-up sex, then?”

You hide your grin in his pellegrina as he makes a noise of outrage.

“Amore, anything can be make-up sex if you try hard enough. Shall I eh, call you some filthy names and get the ball rolling?”

You giggle as you tug him towards the bedroom.

“Oh, I insist, Your Eminence.”

He growls, trying his best to undo the buttons of his cassock with one hand after you lift your nightgown over your head and let it fall to the floor.

“Think I’m getting eh, a Pavlovian reaction to you using my title, dolcezza.”

You look down at the bulge in the red fabric and smile.

“I’ll be sure to remember that on really inconvenient occasions.”

He sighs.

“I know you will.”

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons

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A/n: I wanna emphasize further headcanons for Sylus cause he got me in a chokehold, NSFW isn’t a lot cause I couldn’t think of much. I hope you like this one! Also, when I was writing this, Rafayel was on my screen saying “Babe don’t move, I wanna see if I can see myself in the reflection of your eyes” I am so sorry baby boy. Also, I apologize for the separated posts, I, once again, reached the Tumblr limit. <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Not beta read!

Warning: Toxic! Relationship, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Forced Drug Usage, Exhibitionism, BDSM, Sadistic! Sylus, Cussing, Blood, SYLUS! (He gets his own warning) If there are warnings that I didn’t notice, please let me know, thank you!

Masterlist Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanons (Part One)

Sylus NSFW Headcanons

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SFW:

✄ He wouldn’t forget about the men you keep in your life; they’re so obsessed with you that they all got impacted by your disappearance, especially Rafayel, who was the one that got you into the situation, he knows that the guy was the reason why you almost died, twice? Was it thrice? Anyways that’s too much for someone who says that they loved you for 800 years, (He’s a full-time stalker, do you think his raven wouldn’t hear your conversation when that man got hospitalized?)

✄ For his amusement... he usually tends to give them little trinkets of your possessions where they live or lets you send a message to them once in a while. Just to mess with them, after all, they're the ones who got to have plenty of time with you, and yet here you are, in his home. He considers himself the winner right now.

✄ Out of all the male leads, the one he considers to be a big threat was Lumiere, the number of times he almost got caught with you, that man is crazy. (as if he isn’t) so whenever he lets you out, he makes sure you’re not identifiable, it’s simple really, he uses a device that changes your appearance to look vastly different from your looks.

✄ In terms of Physical affection, he would do it when you still despise him, he’d force you to kiss him, planting his lips on yours while you squirm from your chains, try to bite his lips, he’ll slap your thighs with a baton, specifically your inner thighs mind you, since it hurts so much more there. Yeah, keep trying to hurt him, he’ll make sure to give it back tenfold.

✄ Does he hug you? He does, though the type of hugs he gives aren’t comfortable, it’s where you can’t move, can’t leave or squirm your way out of his hold, he’s strong enough to hold you down.

✄ Cry for him! He likes seeing your tears, angry tears, or pained tears, he doesn’t care, he just wants to see you sob. While he loves that you’re bratty, he also prefers obedient mutts as stated in the first headcanons. If he needs to punish you for that he’s very much willing.

✄ He does drug you often. He likes watching you turn into a mush, a pliant pet for him, he doesn’t take advantage of you in this state though, he just gets tired of your constant squirming when he wants your cuddle after a long day of work, he’d come back to his home, his bodyguards and servants greeting him enthusiastically (they’re forced to) while you on the other hand, just spat insult after insult to him. He would appreciate the feisty personality you have if he has the energy for it.

✄ He’d grab your cheeks in a bruising grip before he grabs a pill box, finding the right drug to put you in a state where you reciprocate his love for you, he forces your jaw open before pouring 3 pills into your mouth.

✄ “Drink” he’d ordered, you gasped, trying to push the pills out of your throat, “spit it out, you’ll regret it” his voice harsh, while he forces cold water down your throat, making sure that you drank it, the moment he lets your cheeks go, you’d be coughing and gasping for air, he drenched your shirt too cause of what he did, but he doesn’t care, you’re acting like a feral dog, be ready to be treated like one.

✄ The moment the drugs start to circulate in your system, making you tired and obedient, he’ll carry you to the bed, where you were supposed to be, but didn’t like being on since that bed reminded you that you were trapped.

✄ In times like this, he turns vulnerable, asking you to tell him how much you love him, he likes hearing it, you never told him those words, and he could only hear it when you’re drugged out.

✄ You cuddle him, breathing ragged while he traces his fingers on your back, causing you to shiver, it was cold and hot at the same time, and the only comfort you feel is when you’re pressed against his body, he is the only solace you feel when you’re in this state, and you hated it.

✄ When he tells you he loves you, you respond so eagerly, like a proper mutt.

✄ He'd plant kisses on your face, his hand gently holding your back to adjust your position on his lap. Your skin, warm from the effects of the drugs, pressed against his. Seizing the moment, he continued kissing you, his lips trailing down to your neck, where he left bites, he’d savor your whimpers.

✄ Oh, but if you mention any of the male lead’s name except for him while you’re in a dreamlike state,  he’d be fuming with jealousy, but it’s not obvious, his subtle hints would be on his body language, the way his kisses became rougher, he bites your bottom lip, breaking skin and making you bleed, if you wince in pain, he’d have a sneer on his face.  His grip on your back would go to your waist, chubby or not, he’d have you under his mercy, his hands tugging your cuffs and placing your wrists on top of your head.

“Even if your brain’s a mush you never fail to hit a nerve pretty”

✄ After you fall asleep under his “care”, he’ll take care of you, changing your outfit before he tucks you to bed, you’ll often wake up alone, but with a letter that says that he’ll be expecting proper etiquette from you next time.

✄ Does he say “I love you” to you? If you’re still mad at him, he would out of spite, He would infuse it with such sweetness that it’s guaranteed to make you angrier. Honestly, he loves seeing you try to piss him off. Keep going, love; you're at least one step closer.

✄ On the other hand, once you develop Stockholm syndrome, he won’t say it much, you didn’t become boring, he just likes seeing you desperate to please him, to get his love so he stops his affections just for you to beg for it.

✄ Is it hard to withhold loving you? Nope, it’s easy for him, he lived without your constant affection, even during the months he kept you in his home, you didn’t give him the privilege of your love, so he doesn’t mind not touching you at all, not giving you the attention you want, or the verbal affirmation if he still loved you.

✄ Once you start crying and begging, that’s where he’d hush you, petting your head before he kisses your forehead.

“I’m sorry pretty, I’m here now, don’t cry” He’d coo before you hug him as if your life depended on it.

[geeky-politics-46]

Kinktober 2023 - Day 2

Adultery with Arthur Shelby

"Just One Bite"

Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!

Summary: You & Arthur take comfort in each other's arms after Linda aims her wrath at both of you.

Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - adultery/extra-marital affair, injury/blood (only a little), jealousy, reference to potential verbal/mental abuse from Linda, swearing, pet names, fingering, creampie, vaginal sex, light dirty talk, little bit of fluff, little bit of angst

From the moment you had been moved into the position of Arthur's secretary, his wife Linda had marked you as a whore out to steal, or at the very least corrupt, her husband. 

It was like she thought you had been sent personally by the devil to lure him away from Linda and negate her religious appeals to Arthur. You were the snake in the garden of Eden and yet somehow also the apple. Tempting Arthur to take a bite of you. You were an apple Linda was sure her husband could never resist. He would never be able to resist you and all that came with you after just one bite of your forbidden fruit.

None of that had been your intention, of course, at least originally. When you saw Arthur, you saw a man who needed help. You saw a man struggling to hold onto himself as he was pulled in all directions by opposing riptides. You just wanted to be the buoy to help keep him afloat or the lighthouse shining in the distance, showing him where the shoreline was. You wanted to help him and the rest of the Shelby's, and so that became your job.

It was Linda and her cruel behavior towards both you and Arthur that had driven the two of you together. That first night anything happened, it had all been because of her. She had stormed into his office at the Garrison in a rage over something, and once she was done with Arthur, she was still hungry for more blood. So she set her sights on you. Verbally abusing you and destroying your desk in the process. You knew she was probably high on cocaine. That was the only way you could explain the venom that she unleashed that night towards both of you. 

After she had finally left, silent tears started to slide down your cheeks. You refused to let her see you cry. Her words had cut far deeper than the damage done to your belongings and the business papers she had thrown around. In silence, you got down onto the ground and started cleaning up the mess. Uncrumpling and trying to piece together torn bits of paper. As you worked, you hadn't realized that Arthur was watching you or that you had kneeled down on shards of glass from a broken picture frame until he said something. 

"You're bleeding." 

His voice made you jump, and suddenly, you felt the small cuts on your knees. Stinging with the sudden movement. Quickly rocking to your feet to relieve the pressure on your newly discovered injuries. Blood smeared on the floor, several papers, and yourself. 

"I'm so sorry, Arthur, uh, Mr. Shelby. I'll get this cleaned up right away, and I'll retype any papers that I soiled or were damaged before I leave tonight." 

Just as quickly as you finished talking, Arthur responded. Your eyes snapped back up from the papers you had been trying to gather up. A softness in his blue eyes. You weren't sure whether it was sadness or caring. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

"No. No, you won't. We will clean this up together,  but only after you let me fix you up. Don't want one of the only nice, tolerable people in this city out sick because she let some silly cuts get all infected." 

You gave him a soft smile for his kindness. Still planning to dismiss his gestures, but he didn't give you the chance. 

"Come 'ere. I got a kit in my desk. Besides, it was my wife who made this mess. It's my job to clean it up, and that includes you." 

After quickly pulling the tin box from a drawer and grabbing a bottle of alcohol he patted the top of his desk. Signaling for you to sit there as he plopped down in his regular chair. He took a long swig from the bottle of whiskey and offered it to you. You followed suit. Needing something to calm your nerves, both from Linda's explosion and from the fact that you were currently sat on your boss's desk and you knew his head and his hands would soon be rather close to your most intimate places. You couldn't help but notice the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

You crossed your legs at the ankles and squeezed your thighs together as you pulled your skirt up just over your knees. Your stockings were clearly ruined. They had become more or less shredded from the glass and tinged red from your blood. A sad sigh fell from your lips as you surveyed the damage. Arthur surreptitiously casting sidelong glances at you as he unpacked the first aid box. 

"These were my favorites too." 

"I'll make sure you get a little extra pay this week. To replace them. It's only fair. It's my fault, after all." 

You shrugged at his statement. If Arthur had his way, he would blame everything in the entire world on himself. That was one of the things you desperately wanted him to see differently. 

"Linda seems to think it's my fault."

"Yeah, well Linda's fucking mental. Not sure anything could ever be your fault. I'm not sure you've ever even made a spelling error, let alone any of the shit she's on about." 

You giggled at that. Your smile making his freckled cheeks blush just a tad.

"Well, if you think I've never made a spelling error, you may need your eyes checked, Arthur." 

You both shared a little smile. The flutter in your stomach picked up again as you looked into his eyes. A flush started to show more clearly on his cheeks before he quickly looked down. Starting to survey the scrapes on your knees. Clearly unsure of where to put his hands. 

"Ummm… I think I actually need to take these off. To make sure there isn't any glass in the cuts." 

He waited for you to respond, glancing up at you under his thick eyelashes. Part of him was waiting for you to shove him away for even suggesting he take off your stockings, but another part of him was ready to beg like a dog for a chance to touch you. 

Perhaps there was some truth to some of what Linda had accused him of. He did harbor a bit of a crush on you, but he was sure you were completely unattainable to him even if he wasn't a married man. Someone so sweet, intelligent, and drop-dead gorgeous would never fall for him. You were so far out of his league that you were in a completely different ballpark, and yet you didn't act like it. You didn't snub your nose at him or his family the way Linda always had. 

"Oh, um, okay. I trust you, Arthur." 

Your voice was a little shaky as you said it. Only because you couldn't read his emotions. Did he want you to do it? Or did he want to do it himself? 

In all honesty, you kind of wanted him to do it. You were already getting blamed for having an affair with him, when in reality, you just had a stupid school girl crush on your boss. This was probably going to be the closest you ever got to living out one of your fantasies. So, without another word, you kicked off your shoes and waited to see what would happen next. 

Arthur slowly placed one hand on your shin, gauging your response before slowly moving it up to the outside of your thigh to find the top of the stocking and your garter. Making sure you didn't protest before his other hand followed, this time on the inside of your thigh. Your legs spreading just enough to allow his hand access. Slowly pulling your garter off and setting it to the side before moving back to slowly start peeling your silk stocking down your leg.

His breath hitching when his fingertips brushed the supple skin of your inner thighs. You were so warm, and your skin was so incredibly soft. He had to bite on his tongue to keep from groaning. He repeated his actions on your other leg and had to fight the urge to touch you further. To spread you open for him just a little bit more. Just enough so he could bury his head between your thighs. He was sure you would taste better than the sweetest sugar.

You were suddenly very aware of the heat growing at your core as you watched his gentle movements. He touched you like you were a porcelain doll who would shatter if he was too rough. His calloused fingertips ghosted over your inner thigh. So very close to where you secretly wanted him to touch you. Where you thought that maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to touch you too. 

Once both your stockings had been discarded, Arthur started studying your wounds a little closer. Looking for any shards of glass that may have gotten stuck in your skin.. Bringing your feet up initially to rest on his chest, just below his shoulder, before realizing how much the image of you like that made his head spin. Settling to let your feet rest on his thighs Not that that worked to diffuse any of the sexual tension in the air that was growing thicker with each passing second. 

You could feel the strong muscles of his legs shifting under the soles of your feet as he moved to pour a decent amount of whiskey onto a clean rag. Part of you wanted to be exactly the kind of woman Linda already thought you were. How short a distance you would have to move your foot to start caressing Arthur's crotch. Wondering what he would feel like as you rubbed him. Wondering how big his cock was. The sounds he would make if you did. There was little point in denying what felt so obvious between you at that moment. 

You wanted him, and he wanted you just the same. You made a silent promise that you would treat him far better than Linda did. Your mind was thinking of all the things Linda probably refused to do that you happily would. There was no way she wasn't a prude in bed. You wondered just how many pleasures you could grant him that she wouldn't. How many pleasures he was used to being denied.

It was Arthur's voice that pulled you from your wicked thoughts.

"Right. This is gonna sting like hell." 

That was all the warning you got before he pressed the whiskey soaked rag onto the cuts. He was right. It hurt. You grabbed at your skirt, holding the fabric tightly in your fingers as you tried to breathe through the pain. Balling the fabric up in your fists and without realizing it, causing it to ride up, baring more of your thighs, and even granting Arthur a peek at the gusset of your panties. 

They weren't particularly fancy. A simple silk in a soft shade of mauve. He knew he was an absolute goner as soon as he saw them and how they were clinging to the plump lips of your cunt. He could practically feel you clench and relax your inner muscles as he moved the rag off of your now clean scrapes. He barely managed to keep his damaged mind focused long enough to place a gauze bandage on each knee. 

His resolve finally cracked completely when he had the idea to place a soft kiss over each bandage. A sweet gesture on its own, but when paired with his now dilated eyes, one that you knew meant he had more sinful desires on his mind. Your hand reflexively went to brush through his hair as his lips touched the first bandage. Gripping the longer strands when he moved to the second. 

His face began nuzzling the inside of your knee. His gruff whimpers against your skin, giving you a last chance to tell him to stop. To push him away. It only made you pull on his hair harder and spread your legs for him farther. A needy whine pulled from his throat before he bit the flesh of your inner thigh and began sucking a dark bruise there. His large hands had already moved to grab at your ass under your skirt to pull you closer to the edge of his desk.

Now that your body was well within his reach, he lifted his head from your lap and brought his lips to yours. Kissing you fiercely. Your teeth nipping at his lips and your tongues chasing one another without shame. The glowing embers of need blossoming into a full-fledged flame. 

"Arthur, are you sure about this. After everything that happened earlier. Are you sure you want this?" 

You caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. Opening your eyes to stare into his icy blue ones. 

"I'm sure, love. Even more now. It seems you and I are already cursed for something we weren't doing. Might as well get some fun out of it, and I'd gladly damn myself for you." 

He moved to kiss you again, but you pulled back again. Wanting to make sure this wasn't just a fleeting desire and that you would be canned by the next morning. A secretary was much easier to get rid of than a wife. 

"What about Linda?"

The mention of her name made his nostrils flair. Clearly still upset from her tantrum earlier. He brought his hands up to cup your face so you were looking him straight in the eye.

"Fuck Linda. You're the one I want. For a long time now. I don't want to deny it anymore. Just never thought you would want a sad old bastard like me."

You sighed and nodded. Giving him your permission to let his lips meet yours again. The soft tickle of his mustache making you smile as you kissed. Your arms slowly moving to loop around his neck and your legs moving to loop around his hips. Pulling his body into yours.

"Wanted you just as much. You may not see it, but you are incredible. Now, fuck me please, Arthur"

Arthur was all long limbs and taut muscles. A sharp contrast to your soft curves. Little did you know that was one of his favorite things about you. That you had so many curves and soft spots for him to touch, kiss, and explore. His hands were already moving up and down your sides, groping your ass and then your breasts as you kissed. 

You set to work on the first few buttons of his shirt. Reaching inside to feel his chest. Pulling your lips away from his to place a soft kiss on the cross tattoo over his heart. 

Arthur quickly followed suit. Leaving wet kisses down your neck before starting to pull at your blouse. His large, rough hands threatened to tear the fabric right off your body. It was like he couldn't possibly wait any longer to touch your bare skin.

"Careful Arthur. I still have to have clothes to walk home in, and I've already lost a good pair of stockings today." 

Your teasing tone told him you weren't upset at his overzealousness. He chuckled in your ear and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. You could feel his hips starting to rut into you. His excitement now becoming apparent in more ways than one. 

"Sorry, lovey. I've just wanted to touch you like this for so long. It takes every ounce of control I have not to pull you into me lap every time you come in here. You're re always so fuckin' sweet and nice to me even when I feel like shit."

He pulled back and started unbuttoning your top with a much more careful touch. Leaning in to kiss your lips with each button he undid. Gazing down as your bra came into view. It clearly matched the panties you were wearing. It was the same mauve silk but with a lace edging along the tops of the cups. 

Arthur groaned as he drug the back of his fingers along the lace. Your breath catching in your chest and making your breasts bounce slightly. With Arthur distracted by the sight of your lingerie, you took over the task of undressing. Shrugging your open blouse back off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. Letting him bring both of his hands up to play with your tits while you moved back to finish unbuttoning his shirt and removing it. 

His fingers moved to pinch at your nipples through the soft fabric as you began undoing his pants. A soft moan falling from your lips at his touches. You slipped your hand into his pants and palmed his hardening cock through his boxers. Starting to slowly stroke his length.

"Fuck, love. You keep that up I'm gonna cum in your hand."

You smiled against his lips. Your wicked side was beginning to show more as your encounter went on. You reached behind your back with one hand and unhooked your bra. Only pulling your hand from Arthur's pants to finish removing your bra so you could toss it to the side into the growing pile of discarded clothing. 

"Well, we don't want that. Better hurry up and finish undressing me then."

You hopped off the desk and brought Arthur's hands to the hook and zipper of your skirt. Bringing your lips to his throat and starting to suck and bite at his neck. Half tempted to leave your mark there for Linda to see. So she could see what she had driven the two of you to do. 

You restrained yourself, though, at least for now. Knowing that both you and Arthur would want this to be more than a one-time thing. There would be a time down the road for you to flaunt your dalliances.

Your skirt soon hit the floor, and you pushed his pants down to match. Leaving you in just your pretty mauve panties and him in his simple white boxers. Your hands exploring each other's bare skin as you kissed. His hands slipping into the back of your panties to grope your ass. Slipping them down enough for them to fall to the floor on their own. Kicking your feet to rid yourself of them completely.

He lifted you back up onto the desk now that you were totally naked. Bringing one hand around between your legs as you settled. Letting his long fingers finally touch your cunt, feeling how wet you had gotten for him already. Nuzzling into your neck, his mustache tickling you as he whispered in your ear.

"Holy fuck. You're so wet darling. You are an eager little thing ain't ya? All of this really for me?"

You mewled at his questions. Knowing that he already knew the answers. Letting your hips start to roll against his fingers, trying to urge him on. Sighing in relief when you felt two of his fingers sink into your heat. The little bit of stretch making your back arch and your nails grip into his biceps. 

Arthur pulled away to watch his fingers thrust in and out of you. Growling at the sight of your slick coating his fingers. It was something he thought he would only ever fantasize about. Occasionally stroking your clit with his thumb and making your hips jerk forward. 

A smile on his face as he watched your eyes start to roll back in your head. Pulling his fingers away when he felt you starting to clench around them. Denying you your orgasm and making you pout. Your bottom lip pushed out and looking oh so biteable.

"Arthur, please. I was so close."

He chuckled as he licked your sweet nectar from his fingers. Just one taste, and he knew he was already addicted to you. Frankly he couldn't wait until he would get a chance to eat you out, but right now he needed to fuck you.

"Uh uh love, the only time you are gonna cum tonight is on my cock." 

With that, he pushed his boxers down. Finally freeing himself and giving you your first real glimpse of his cock. Standing proud and hard, just for you. His dark pink tip wet with precum. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight of him. Your legs immediately reaching to wrap around his hips and pull him to you. 

He happily let you. Loving how much you wanted him. How impatient you were to have him inside you. You were almost more impatient than he was. Your hips were bucking as soon as you felt his long length stroke through your wet folds. 

"Don't worry, love. I'm gonna give you exactly what you want. Just want to hear you ask for it. All sweet like you are when you ask me for stuff during work. Like the good little angel you are." 

You purred at his statement. You could be his little angel if that's what he wanted, but you also wanted Arthur to see your devilish side, too. So, with one hand, you braced yourself on his desk and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. Giving him your best doe eyes and letting your hips wantonly grind against his shaft. Hitching your legs up even higher to spread yourself open more for him.

"Please Arthur, I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so bad. I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted you for so long. Please fuck me. Make me yours Arthur." 

He growled and quickly positioned his fat tip against your weeping hole. Cursing at how wet you were. He had never felt Linda anywhere near as turned on as you were, and even though he knew that what you were about to do was wrong, it felt oh so right. So, without even thinking, he pulled off his wedding band and threw it somewhere in the distance. Not caring about having to find it later.

He grabbed a hold of your hips and kissed you fiercely. His short nails leaving imprints in your skin. He slowly started pushing into you. Your moans quieted by his kisses as he stretched you open. Eventually, bottoming out and leaving you feeling impossibly full. 

Arthur waited a moment, trying to calm his breathing and letting you adjust to him. He could hardly control himself when he looked down between you and saw his cock nestled in your cunt. Your pussy lips hugging him tightly. He couldn't help but start shallowly thrusting in and out of you. His hair falling in front of his face and his nostrils flaring. His animalistic side clawing beneath the surface. 

"Go on, Arthur. Fuck me hard. I know you want to." 

Now that he had your permission, he did exactly that. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you. His thrust was so hard your hips lifted off the desk. He waited a few seconds to see if you would object to his hard thrusts, and when all you did was grip onto his neck tighter, he began pounding into you faster. The desk was starting to rock underneath you and scrape across the floor. His lamp falling and the ledger books dropping to the floor with a heavy thud.

Neither of you cared, though. Your moans and grunts growing louder with each passing moment. Arthur biting into your shoulder and neck as he fucked you with abandon. Surely leaving marks that you would have to deal with tomorrow. The force of his cock knocking your breath from you.

Arthur moved one hand behind your back to hang onto you as he brought the other to your clit. Starting to stroke his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves and immediately making you clench around him. His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular. 

"I'm gonna cum inside this perfect little cunt. You want that, eh? Just felt you squeeze me tighter darlin.  I think you're gonna cum too. Cum on my cock and I'll fill you up so good. That's it, love. Cum on your boss's cock." 

His words pushed you over the edge. Crying out Arthur's name as you spasmed around him. Your legs were shaking, and your body was threatening to collapse onto the desk below you. Arthur pulled you into his chest, keeping you upright as he kept frantically fucking you. Chasing his own high. Grunting and growling in your ear. 

After another few thrusts, you felt his hips stutter and the warmth of his release started to fill you. The most beautiful moan fell from the normally intimidating gangster. It was full of vulnerability and made you hang onto him even tighter as he filled you up. His orgasm seemed never-ending, but frankly, both of you were quite content to stay in this moment forever. Just the two of you.

You held each other as you came down from your orgasms. Kissing and wiping the sweat from each other's brows. Caressing each other and letting your heart rates fall. Both of you groaning when Arthur finally pulled out of you. Taking a moment to watch his cum start to leak out of you. 

With a cheeky smirk on his face, he scooped it back up and rubbed it over your swollen sex making you gasp before bringing what was left on his fingers up to your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his seed from his fingers. Your tongue dancing and licking up every drop. His smile growing and a soft 'good girl' quietly fell from his lips.

The two of you slowly helped each other redress. Arthur, taking an extra moment to admire the sight of you in your beautiful silk underwear before helping you with your skirt and blouse. You couldn't help but smile as you redid his bowtie for him. His fingers drawing little shapes on your lower back as you did. Brushing his hair back into place and smoothing down his mustache before standing on your toes to press a soft kiss on his lips. Neither of you quite ready to leave the imaginary world you created together. 

He let go of you and went out to your desk. Watching him gather your jacket and handbag as you slipped your shoes back on. Coming back and placing your handbag on his desk while he worked to straighten out your coat.

"Come on, darlin'. Let's get you home, eh? I'm not letting you walk home alone at this time of night with those gorgeous legs bare and on display."

You slipped your garters into your handbag. Having no use for them now that your stockings were in Arthur's trash bin. Letting him slip your coat on before taking his own long dark coat that was far too large for you and slipping it over your shoulders. You buried your nose in the collar. Inhaling the scent of Arthur's cologne.

You looked out at the mess still sitting on the floor around your desk. Sighing at the work that still needed to be done.

"What about that mess, Arthur? I still need to clean all of that up."

He took your hand in his and started leading you to the door. Not really caring if anyone saw him holding your hand. After tonight he really couldn't give a fuck who saw you together. Come the light of day he knew he would probably feel guilty and tomorrow he would probably find himself crawling around the floor of his office to find his wedding ring. It wouldn't stop him from coming back to you again and again, and he knew both of you knew it. Tonight though he just wanted to indulge in you without the guilt. 

"Fuck it. I'll make Finn and Isiah do it in the morning. You've got more important work now. Besides I'm thinking you'll be a bit tired tomorrow by the time you come in."

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

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[hidtired]

Hangman [Part 2]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down. What will Daryl go through before reuniting with you?

2.8k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Daryl POV

He saw you getting dragged to stand on that wooden box. Noose swinging back and forth in the air. He had threatened and then pleaded when the rope went around your neck. ‘He had done this, the reason for you standing there.’ You were looking at him. A sweet smile on your face. How could you possibly not be furious with him. He was getting dizzy from moving so much and the amount of blood he lost already. He watched the tears slip down your face but then your face straightened and you glared at Negan. How could you look so brave into death?

Negan was still yapping but the ringing in his ears muted most of his words. He registered, “Any last words?” You didn’t even hesitate stating, “See you in hell.” The look in your eye must have been murderous under the bag that been dragged over your head. Negans chuckle in amusement sent his skin ablaze, “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ the silence that followed had Daryl’s mind racing to replace the noise, ‘How do I stop this?’ ‘I can’t lose her!’ The abrupt kick from the box under your feet felt like a stab in the heart. He felt like he was watching it in slow motion. Your slow decent to the ground. To hear the rope pull tot again the tree branch above you.

He watch in shock no noise coming out of him. The bounce of the rope tightening around you suspending you in the air. It was Carl he heard the loudest make a pained grunt at witnessing it. Then you were clawing at the rope that suffocated you. Feet dangling and kicking. You had made a surprised yelp at the first impact. It burned into his mind as soon as he heard it. He took a sharp intake of breath for the first time and he mumbled incoherent please through his cry’s.

When your head fell back you then went slack. Your stillness punched all the air out of his lungs. Everyone’s cry’s and faces pulled into disbelief at your now motionless body. Daryl’s eyes remain glued to you. It felt like he was pulled into a sinkhole and had an empty feeling flowing through him. Negan’s proud voice cutting through the noise of grief, “That was like a damn witch hunt! Shit, didn’t think she would be flopping around so much!” He turned to the people shaking on their knees. “Damn, seems to have learned an important lesson finally! We got there in the end though. THEY GET THE SPIRIT AWARD FOR SURE!” Negan turned to Rick, “I JUST GOT A FEELIN’!” Negan yelled prancing around… putting on a show. “YOU PROVIDE FOR ME!” Rick slowly nodded, “SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!” He gulped a flash of light making him squint before speaking, "W-we provide-" Negan nodded with a pleased smile getting what he wanted. He pointed to Daryl, "Load him up."

Daryl had dug his hands in the dirt still staring at your body, looking dazed. He felt them pull him and he only struggled a little, tears streaming down his face, noise unable to release from his tight throat. He couldn't leave you. They throw him back in the truck they had dragged him out of in the beginning. He struggled to get back up so he curled into himself. The door slammed making him jump. His mind getting dragged to flashback of you. The moment you saw each other after the prison. When you first admitted to being in love with him. Remembering when you took his last name as yours.

Till death do us part.

Now that it had happened he couldn’t comprehend it. To live without you. For your existence to simply cease. His grief rolled into anger. At the world, at the saviors, but mostly himself. You had always disliked when he got worked up, ‘It will be the death of you!’ But in the end it was the death of you. You had yelled it at him during an argument. He would have said something back to that if you hadn’t started to get worked up tears shinning in your eyes.

‘Your love for me got you killed.’

He quietly sobbed at the thought. The van he was in started to move. He was being taken to who knows where. Whatever it was he would burn it to the ground with everyone who had hurt you in it, including himself.

He passed out somewhere along the way. Only waking at the feeling of stitch’s digging into his shoulder. He was later stripped of his clothes and put in a dark room. He would sit in the corner huddled together playing with the remaining ring on his finger. That’s when the torture here began.

He was feed poorly. Sleep deprived with a song that play on loop at full volume. He felt weak, sometimes thinking he would hear your voice off into the darkness. He would perk up and cry apologizes to you. Blaming himself, soon your presence turned into a haunting after a rough day. He tried to run but was tricked and beaten. He was on the cool floor hearing your voice ring in his ears, “Your fault. If I never took pity on you I’d still be here! YOU KILLED ME!” He would often pull on his hair to quiet you.

A day later, he was dragged to Alexandria. His face was swollen and he had a remaining shake in his hand. He was in a constant state of fighter flight. When he had got to the gates he couldn’t meet anybody’s eye. They had succeeded in breaking him. But not the way they intended. They broke him to comply. To be one of them. But he continued refusal. They broke him by making his life meaningless. With a sole purpose of destroying the ones who took his love from this world.

He was helping move boxes from Alexandria homes. Rick standing next to Negan near by. Rick had spoke to Carl from the porch, “You should go check on Lori. Make sure that she is okay.” He said it loud enough for Daryl to overhear. Daryl was perplexed at the sentence, was he trying to insinuate something? Lori had been dead for a while now, had he lost it again? Carl chimed in, “I’m sure she is doing fine.” Were they talking about you? There’s no way in hell you would be ‘fine’ after the shit that happened. It was hopeful thinking, he probably didn’t even say Lori and he imagined it.

Rick pleaded for Daryl being able to stay but when asked to make his case he knew he wouldn’t let him go. He also didn’t feel he deserved it. He had looked to his brother, his face screaming he cared. It only made him more guilty. You had cared for him, that’s why you were dead.

That was only solidified more back in his cell. Dwight was on him to join them, that all the torture would be over. Even if he did, the torture would still continue in your absence. Daryl said somethings that struck a nerve, “And be like you? Lettin Negan bang your wife, wow you sure saved her.” Dwight threw the dog food sandwich to the floor, “At least she is still alive.” He threw a polaroid to the floor, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Daryl’s hands were balled up. The burning ache in his chest at the mention of you. He slowly moved for the picture flipping it over. The crack of light coming from under the door revealing the picture. It was you hanging in that tree. He immediately looked away, clutching a hand to his chest. The hard tension of emotion bubbling out. He silently wept while the music changed. How stupid could he have been? To think maybe Rick was suggesting you were OK.

Your POV

Daryl was right about that, you were everything but ok. Alive yes, but struggling. When you had gotten to hilltop you were rushed to the doctor. He had done a endotracheal Intubation, shoving a tube down your throat to assist you with breathing. Maggie held your hand while Glenn pinned you down. You relaxed when it was in place. Breathing fully and properly, your eyes rolled in the back of your head going unconscious. All adrenaline leaving your body, now unable to process the pain and shut itself down.

You woke startled. The intrusion down your throat causing a panic. You pulled it out but struggled to cough to clear your airway. You rolled over the side of the bed letting gravity do it. It was hard to work any muscle in your throat. You felt something rapped around it. Almost like a pillow. It was a neck brace but the feeling reminded you of having the rope around you. The pillow case under you reminding you of the bag. Someone grabbed you and propped you up to sit. It was the doctor. You froze from your panic seeing panicked eyes all watching you. Maggie sat leaning into Glenn’s shoulder with a hand clasped around her mouth.

It was like a slap of reality. Eye contact with everyone in the room. They explained things to you while still a little frazzled. You were asleep for 14-16 hours. Your bottom lip trembled and you waved everyone closer to you. You enveloped people in hugs. You had never been so close to death. You gesture for something to write on. After getting it you wrote, “Is everything Ok?” Sasha who now sat in a chair next to the bed spoke first, “You should get better, only concern was how you would eat.” The doctor chimed in, “The damage to your throat is unknown. I can’t say for sure if you could eat solid foods or even talk ever again.” You rub the tension between your eyes grabbing the paper and writing again.

“Daryl?”

Glenn put a hand to your leg, “He’s alive. You should know the saviors took him before they left.” You ran a hand through your hair eyes closed tight. The burning in your eyes from the need to cry only added to the pressure in your growing migraine. You bit your lip and tried to swallow down the tightness growing in your throat from tears. However, the sensation of gulping made your whole body tense, slamming your fists down at the pain. A shaken inhale coming out of you. Everyone cringed around you. You collected yourself before writing again. “How the baby?” You had pointed the paper to Glenn and Maggie. She smiled, “We’re ok.” You breath in relieved about the first good news.

Then came the recovery. Not just physically but mentally. Any rope, tie, or, string set you off. You now no longer slept with a pillowcase. You had to eat everything in a paste. You’d crush it and dilute it with water. Felt like dog food. You were persistent when it came to asking about updates on Daryl. ‘When were people going after him?’ ‘When are we fighting?’

Everyday with the same answer. To think of what they were doing to him as each day passed. You started to debate going after him yourself. No opportunities presenting itself until Sasha and Rosita went off to kill Negan and hadn’t come back. With everyone distracted by them you follow after them. You left a note that read,

“I’m sorry for not telling you I ran off, but I need to go get Daryl. Anyone would do the same in my situation. So, no being mad when I come back! Preferably with two Dixons.”

You while still unable to talk and less than great ability to even drink water, were going to save your husband. You followed old tracks from the girls. Knife in hand and an empty gun holster. Also a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big, (you stole from Jesus.) You were by far behind in your tracking ability compared to your Husband. You remember all the times you would go with him to hunt. Being out there alone often lead to other activities you will admit. Probably what took you so long to learn. You found a factor type building the near the end of the trail. You would wait until the sun goes down and seeing what you were working with.

You had rounded the building a few times preparing for when it became sunset. You also took notice at a lot of cars that had left. You decided to act while they were gone. There was a lot with cars and to your surprise Daryl’s motorcycle. It seemed empty and unguarded. There was already holes in the fence tied with zip ties. You avoided the walkers attached to the fence. Breaking the zip ties with your knife and sliding through. You quickly and quietly made your way through a side door.

The hallway had minimum lighting. Any door you would pass you slowly open to look inside. Footsteps on the other side of the hall caused you to go up a flight of stairs. Quick to make your way down the upstairs hall when you heard women chatting. Ducking into a room closest to you. Pressing your ear to the door listening for the people to pass. Taking notice of the room there was a big bed, and a jacket all too familiar. You were in Negan’s room. Stepping back outside you paused and looked at the door.

Deciding to carve a little message in his door before continuing your search for Daryl.

____ | | | o | /|\ | | | / \ |_

"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _."

You made your way back downstairs. Passing door after door until you saw one cracked open. It was another bedroom. You slowly opened it spotting the key to Daryl’s bike. You pocketed it then saw another thing you recognized, Rick’s python. You moved it to your holster while moving back to the door. You ducked your head out of it looking both ways before continuing. Your heart raced every second you were there.

There was 3 doors left at the end of the hall. When opening the first one it opened to reveal a small space that was empty. It was dirty with full brick walls and concrete floor. You moved to the next one but it didn’t budge, it was locked? You moved to the last door and it popped open like the first. You back tracked to the other door and made a small knock against it. Leaning your ear to the door you heard a deep sigh. Someone was locked in one of these small rooms. Inhaling and hoping it was Daryl. You looked around again to make sure no one was coming.

Jamming your knife in the key hole and pulling out a Bobby pin from the back of your head. You were used to lock picking doors open since all the scavenging you’ve done. It was a habit to always have it on you. You fiddled with the lock looking around from time to time. When you finally got it to turn and unlock you put the pin back and held your knife out for whatever was behind the door. The door slowly opened light illuminating the dark room with a beaten and dirty Daryl. Your heart dropping. He was sat down staring at the floor squinting from the light. You slowly feel to your knees.

He looked up seeing you. A mix of a panicked and heart breaking look flashing across his battered features. You put a finger to your lips telling him to be quiet. You crawl over to him and grab his face. He leaned into you making your heart feel strained, ‘what have they done to him.’ Daryl whispering apologies, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” His hands hovering over your face. You leaned over to lay your head in his hand. He seemed surprised at the contact. He leans forward looking at your face searching your eyes. His hand traveling down gently to your neck his eyes catching a sight glimpse of the bruise around it before you flinched at the contact to it. He breath comes out ragged,

“Y/N?”

You nuzzle your face in his and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He was looking at you with amazement. You grabbed him by the arms and tried to get him to stand, trying to hint that you both needed to leave.

You were going to get him out of here.

Part 3

Next part is final! Feedback welcome and requests always open! What do you think the Hangman game spelt?

This feels like I wrote it poorly so apologies.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.  

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

[bunnibaby-love]

Hello! Can I get a mean blade? (Like really mean one that he almost look down on you)❤️

🍪 Blade x F!Reader 🍪

♡ female reader + use of s toys + lots of dirty talks + double stuffing + choking + shoe humping + edging + oral

'N'more Blade please...ngh..." your pretty eyes are already swollen from crying too much from humping on his shoe naked for how long but that doesn't faze Blade at all.

You just missed him so much! you bought a toy that looks close with his size to relieve yourself without you knowing he's gonna come back today

"Fucking pathetic slut. You think this stupid toy is enough to satisfy your greedy pussy?" He shoved the dildo on your mouth and forced it down on your throat "Don't need my cock anymore? You love this plastic more right?"

You shake your head in disagreement multiple times but he just took both of your cheeks and makes you take the toy more just to take it out and you feel like vomiting

"No....m' only wants your cock....i miss you so much....that toy is nothing to yours.." you grind harder against his shoes to chase your pleasure but he just won't allow you to cum either

"Bend over" you hurridly stood up and your knees hurts so much after kneeling so long and bend over at the wall

"Eaak!" you already expected a harsh spank but didn't expect for him to gives you multiple harsh spanks you know your ass gonna be red and numb 'Hurts...it hurts...stop..."

"You love this toy so much right?" you feel his topless body lean against your back and the dildo he shove all the way down on your cunt

"Ngh aaah...!!" you bought the biggest size but still you feel it's not as close to Blade and the feeling of it "No...don't want it...please your cock.. i need"

He shoves the side of your face on the cold wall "Of course i'll give it to you since you're a greedy whore" you feel his cock on your cunt

"Aum...aah..!" you bite your lips too hard it draws blood after he shoves his whole length on your cunt It hurts so bad but you can feel the pleasure of it

"Fucking hell taking both cocks on your cunt" He starts off instantly on his hard pace, stretching you out so much with both of his and the toy inside you "Can't ngh wait for me to come home? need another dick to wet your pussy huh?" his left hand moves the dildo inside you with him and his left hand covers your throat, making you lean back to him

"Aaah...ngh....sorry...sorry!..only want you...you...!" you are apologizing and moaning all over with all the intensive pleasure you are receiving 'Let me..ngh cum please...." you beg and beg

"Let see that bitch squirt mhm" he keeps going with his pace till you squirt, painting the wall.

"Aaah...!!" he let's go of your body to fall on the floor, too dumbfounded and can't move

"We're far from over since she misses me so much" his shoe teased your sensitive clit you instantly cum again and makes you whimper. You can barely looked up on him and saw him holding a box "Not only you need that plastic dick you even got alot more shit"

He flipped the box making the other toys you bought fell on the floor, making you feel your stomach turns over

[writingoddess1125]

I just thought of Buggy- So Badly

Just the twins showing off those 3 braincells they got from Buggy

• He left the Boys alone for 10 God damn minites!-

• Yet here he was.. Clearly having made mistakes in his life- Like not wearing a condom.

• Here sitting in a box in the storage hull of his ship was Dee, holding his shoulder with only the hilt of the blade sticking out.

• "Boys- What the Actual Fuck!?"

• Dee lowered his head in shame as he held his bloody shoulder.

• "We wanted to see how far we could throw the blades into the box-"

• Buggy rubbed his temple in frustration-

• "We didn't realize how deep they could go..." Dee admitted embarrassed by this all.

• "Wait- Where is Bee?" Buggy asked in a panic

• Dee shifted gently to his life, still holding his shoulder where the knife was sticking out and Bee rose slowly.

• A twinkle of blood running down his forehead as there was a blade nicely tapped to the top of his head most likely stuck in the bone

• Buggy stared at his children, the urge to cry coming to him rather quickly.

• "You're mom is going to fucking kill me-"

[scoutswritingcorner]

The Fallen Lovers

Alastor x GN! Reader

TW: Established relationship! Murder and talks of cannibalism. ANGST BUT THEN FLUFF, I PROMISE. Paranoia and anxiety, crying

A/N:The long awaited prequel of my latest work ‘The Monster That Lurked’! I left what you look like very ambiguous but did describe them as having claws. You do use a cane in this. Rosie is the best wingwoman.

Word Count: 5k

When you had arrived in hell, you were very surprised to see that it wasn’t the fire and brimstone that people had talked about. Well..there was fire but the lack of brimstone confused you greatly. Instead there were buildings lining the walls as random looking demons walked past you like this was the normal thing to do. You guess it was for them, slowly standing up you watched a few demons further down the block kill a weaker looking demon before running off with money and valuables in their pockets.

You turned the other way and started to walk down the street, a limp in your walk, it still hurts to put a lot of pressure down onto your leg. You stopped near a shop and looked into the large window, it was selling different kinds of products and was that…fingers? Your heart dropped and your stomach twisted painfully, where were you at? Hell obviously..that was a stupid question on your own part. Blinking, you watched a very tall woman with a very beautiful maroon dress and a large sun hat as she worked. It couldn’t hurt to ask her right? She seemed quite friendly despite being in hell, you had to try. Walking over to the doors the best you could with the constant limp bothering you, you shyly walked in ignoring the dreading feeling that you had just walked into a lion's den.

As soon as you got close but still kept your distance if you needed to run, you rubbed your palm onto your shirt. “Excuse me ma’am?” You called out to the much taller lady, she immediately turned around smiling. Your undead heart jumped seeing her black eyes and smile that was full of sharp teeth. “Yes? Oh! A new face, I’ve never seen you around here before, Darling!” She called out, putting the box of more fingers down on the counter. “I-I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am..truly sorry I just..arrived here and I’m quite confused.” You reply trying to calm your nerves as she stared at you, the fact you were dead and in hell of all places is just something you couldn’t wrap your mind around. All you could remember is just wanting to surprise your husband after his rough day.

“Oh of course! Come in, come in. Let’s get you relaxed and I’ll answer any questions you have.” The woman had said, guiding you towards a table near the back, you sat down and looked around the store seeing the different types of clothes, medicines and treats that lined the shelves. It was comforting on some level, it reminded you about a shop not too far from your own home that a friend of yours worked at. Well..get rid of the ever lingering smell of blood and flesh then it would’ve been perfect. Leaning back in the chair as the tall lady had walked back in holding a tray with a teapot and some cups on it. Sitting the tray down, she quickly took her place across from you and served you some tea. You were thankful as it had calmed your nerves greatly.

“So dear, how can I help you?” Her voice was soft, almost motherly to an extent as you slowly drank the tea. “I know I’m in hell and I know why or at least I know why..Hell seems different than what the priests have described it..it’s not so fire and brimstone-y with an eternal lake of fire.” You explained placing the cup down before frowning, staring at your own hands. Your nails had morphed into sharp claws as it looked like your hands up to your elbow were dipped into black tar. “It’s hard to wrap my head around and..I don’t want to say I’m scared because I’m truly not…I’m sorry, I ran off on a tangent.” You mumbled out sitting up to stare at the lady before you, a soft smile on her lips.

“No no it’s okay, get it off your chest. This…Is a lot especially to someone who has recently just got down here. Well, as you know Hell is not just one place. 7 rings of hell to represent the 7 deadly sins,” She hummed, waving her hand much like Alastor did when he was about to go off on a tangent and you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. “We are on the Pride Ring, where sinners much like yourself stay. I can’t say much about the other rings but sinners can’t go to the other rings, only hellborn demons and imps can.” You slowly nodded and looked down, listening to her talk. You soon found out her name was Rosie, she was the Overlord of Cannibal Town and you were now even more confused cause what the fuck is an overlord?

The questions in your head swirled as you held the tea cup as the conversation lulled for a little bit, “How do I..in a lack of better words, live? I don’t know where to start and I’d rather not be out on the streets if I’m just going to get killed again.” You replied as Rosie hummed before her grin widened. Gosh, she really did remind you of Alastor at the best of times..you missed him so much. “Why don’t you work with me so I can help you get settled into this new way of living your afterlife?” She hummed and you perked up nodding too stunned to actually question her intentions if she had any. You didn’t speak much after that, only nodding your head if she had asked you a question.

You felt incomplete knowing you were gonna wake up without hearing Alastor’s broadcast and going to bed without the latest gossip from around town. You’d manage right? It’s not like there aren’t other radio stations out there for you to listen in on. A soft hand on yours snaps you out of your own thoughts as Rosie smiles at you, “Is everything okay? You have that far away look on you.” You blinked at the question, you could trust her couldn’t you? She’s been helpful so far..she doesn’t seem like the one who would betray you so easily. “I..I just miss my husband is all..” you whispered out watching as she smiled softly nodding, “I’m sorry, Dear..” She whispered, causing you to smile.

The conversation picked up once more as you both sat there for hours, talking about everything and nothing all at once. 

~~~

It’s been about 2 years now or you’d hope so, time is weird when you are dead. You were currently locked up in your apartment with the windows and curtains drawn, your dresser blocking the door just in case as you heard screams echo from outside. You sat in the darkness of your own bathroom, a bottle of whiskey sitting on the edge of the tub that you were currently laying in, thank Satan you didn’t take a bath this morning. Rosie had warned you about the yearly extermination that takes place to get rid of the overpopulation problem, the first year it had happened you almost got killed (again) and it left you with a pretty nasty scar on your leg that still throbbed in pain every now and then, it sucked now that you still had that damn limp but add the extra burning pain and some days you could barely even stand. Thankfully, Rosie was super understanding about the whole thing.

You yawned and played with the cup in your hands as you patiently awaited for the extermination to be over. You closed your eyes keeping the cup close to your chest as you leaned your head back, you wished you had grabbed a book and a candle, you didn’t want to drink yourself stupid as you waited out this extermination. Your mind drifted back to Alastor, in your final moments the smell of his cologne stuck in your mind and how his bloody and shaking hands held your head to his chest. Tears that weren’t your own hit your cheek as your vision slowly blacked out, you missed him oh so dearly. You don’t think he would love you now, the more demonic looking you..how scars decorated your body to remind you of your gruesome death and even more fatal almost second death. Tears pricked at your eyes at the thought of your beloved Beau and how he would react.

Now you weren’t a fool when it came to Alastor, you knew exactly why he had constantly disappeared for days on end. Why would he point out the latest death to you in the papers? Was he constantly trying to keep you away from him or was he just telling you outright that he was the rampant serial killer around New Orleans? 

A loud horn echoed through the now silent Hellscape, the exterminators retreating back to Heaven. You let out a sigh downing the rest of the whiskey that was in your cup before slowly moving to get out of the tub so you wouldn’t put too much strain on your leg. Your back popped uncomfortably as you stretched, grabbing the whiskey bottle as you slowly walked out of your bathroom as fireworks sounded out, it was officially over and now you had a whole year to wait to do it again. You turned on the lights in your bathroom watching as the golden light spilled out into the darkness as if someone had left a piece of heaven behind. The light illuminated the darkness and showed how you left your room as you rushed to push the heavy dresser in front of your door, how your bed sheets were in disarray and your clothes laid on the ground from how you tried to make the dresser less heavy. It didn’t work and you basically had to strain yourself to get it over there in the first place. You looked at the bottle in your hand, unscrewing the cap off to take a swig to give you the strength (and stupidity) to move that damned dresser back over to where it usually sat.

It had been an hour at best into you slowly cleaning up your apartment when the old radio on the counter had started to turn on by itself. That wasn’t a problem usually, this is hell and weird things do tend to happen but what caught your eye is that the dials started to move by themselves as if it was trying to tune itself to a certain radio station. Now it never did that before and it scared you a little bit, in a matter of seconds green electricity erupted from the speaker as screams- horrid screams echoed throughout the apartment making you drop the bottle of whiskey on the ground to cover your own ears. Your head felt dizzy and you practically busted your own ass as you tried to take a step back as the screams suddenly disappeared and left the room silent except for a few gruesome sounds of bones cracking. You uncovered your ears as you blinked allowing your vision to fix itself as you let out a deep breath.

“Salutations Dear Listener’s!” His voice rang out causing you to freeze as you glanced down at the now shattered bottle on the ground. Was this some sick fucking joke? Whoever was using your husband’s voice to play on the radio? Who would do such a fucking thing? You couldn’t move from your spot on the floor as your breathing came shorter with every word from the radio, you felt your throat close uncomfortably as tears cascaded down your cheeks. Who was using his voice? If he was down here as well, he shouldn’t be. Not yet. 

You sat like that for hours even after you stopped crying, too scared to move in case the radio turned itself on again. You had only just begun getting used to your afterlife.

~~

It had been a few weeks now from the extermination and you were helping Rosie with folding some of the clothes in the shop, as she dealt with the customers. The first few days working with her was quite a scary sight as she had to hold back some of the cannibals from devouring you, that was a mental breakdown you weren’t expecting to happen. Now, no one really tried to eat you and happily greeted you as you walked by, you try to stay away from Susan.

You tried to leave Rosie alone when she was working, she was such a busy woman and Overlord, which you finally found out what that meant and to say you were unsurprised was an understatement. Focusing back on folding the clothes in front of you, you tried to listen into anything really as it got boring some days and you just wished to listen to some juicy gossip. You could always ask Rosie..she would gladly sit down and unload some of it onto your shoulders. She was always open for some “girl talk” with you no matter what, hell you could be a literal cat and she’d talk your ear off if you’d let her. So it surprised you when she had called you over to help her, you didn’t disdain being around the other cannibals but they did scare you a little bit..especially that butcher..but you swallowed any nerves you had as you walked over to her.

“Yes, Rosie?” You asked as you watched her help the seemingly last customer of the day. You waved the lady off as Rosie guided you to her favorite spot to gossip after work, “Wait here for a moment,” She hummed quickly, leaving to close up shop and possibly going to get some tea. You looked back at the table in front of you as your fingers tapped away to some tune you couldn’t quite remember, did you hear it from the radio after hearing your husband’s voice broadcast all over hell or was it just some tune some poor fool was destined to play, maybe it was that tune you heard from that mysterious red jacketed man that always disappeared when you got closer to him? Why did that jacket seem so familiar to you? Why did his presence enrapture you so much? Blinking your eyes as Rosie sat in front of you happily pouring you both some tea, “I’m guessing you’ve heard about a new overlord rising up recently,” She hummed out placing the kettle back in the middle of the table. You nodded, “Yes ma’am, I’ve heard whispers about it.” 

She smiled and took a sip of her drink, the conversation lulling into a comfortable silence once more. You watched her for a moment, she had a glint in her eyes, “You had a husband before..what can you tell me about him?” She asked looking back at you, placing her cup down. The thought of just gushing about Alastor to someone made your undead heart flutter and something akin to butterflies in your stomach. You never dared talk about him when you were alive, in fear of accidentally starting a whole snowball effect. You didn’t want him to get caught so easily.  Your face heated up as a small smile graced your lips, “Are you sure you want to hear me talk about that?” You asked hands nervously cupping the warm cup as she nodded her smile much more soft. “What drew you towards him or what was he like in life?”

You looked down and cleared your throat, “Well..His presence was always one of a man filled with confidence and his smile was so gorgeous. But he was a very..how do I say this..private man and organized man. He’d like everything where it needed to be and I’ve only heard parts of conversations where someone pried too deeply and he got upset. So I never really asked a lot of questions, and didn't feel like I needed to at the time.” You explained waving your hand as if his little quirks rubbed off on you. “Funnily enough, that’s how we met..I was walking by with a drink and some poor fool had hit the drink out of my hand onto his new suit.” You explained with a slight chuckle, “I didn’t bat an eye when his anger had redirected towards me..but I paid for a new suit with the money I had saved up and seemingly all was forgiven. I somehow wormed my way into his presence after.” You looked up at Rosie and sighed, “His eyes were the most expressive parts of him, if you knew what you were looking for. He had such pretty dark brown eyes and paired with that smile it’d make anyone look twice. But he was such a gentleman and he had a lot of secrets to keep but he allowed me in and allowed me to keep those secrets safe.” You looked down once more fiddling with the cup, tears brimming your eyes but never falling as you quickly blinked them away. “I miss him, miss waking up at the early hours to hear his voice on the radio and our late night adventures across town going from speakeasy’s to the local jazz show..we would always end up at the park. A middle ground for our hectic lives and we would just talk..there was no judgment or anything of that nature. Just us..” As you finished a warm hand covering your own fidgeting one, Rosie’s soft smile had reached over. “He seems like a dream,” She hummed out, causing you to smile and nodded.

But dreams never last.

~~~

Rosie softly hummed as she walked arm in arm with you, you had started to walk her towards her meetings ever since you had landed her a couple years ago. At first it was mostly so you could see what Pentagram City had looked like. The soft taps of her heels hitting the pavement and the occasional tap of the cane she had gotten you so long ago had soothed her nerves a little bit. The first time you had accompanied her your leg had given out on you due to the stress of constantly putting pressure on it, scared her. Her favorite little Sinner had just collapsed on the sidewalk with a loud thump but you didn’t fret, which scared her more as surely that had hurt. You waved off her concern but happily took her arm as she helped you back up.

Now here you both were walking towards the Overlord Meetings, you wouldn’t be welcomed in as you weren’t an Overlord yourself but you happily walked all the way with her there and then came back to walk her towards Cannibal Town. You usually didn’t speak much even when working, you were as silent as a mouse at times. “Is the cane helping?” She asked, watching as you smile and nodded, “Yes ma’am, I can pay you back if needed.” That made her almost stop in her tracks but she simply waved your words off. “No, no, no need my dear!” She hummed as you continued to walk. Your smile had dropped and you had that faraway look in your eyes when she glanced back at you once more, what made you go into your head so much? Was it a bad home life when you were alive? She was curious but knew better than to pry, she’s seen you rip someone apart with just your words, how venom laced your tongue as you showed your fangs waiting for the chance to attack. Someone or something made you feel voiceless.

After you had left, she waltzed into the meeting greeted by Carmilla and Zestial amongst other Overlords there. She sat next to Alastor who politely nodded and helped her sit down. “You know Alastor, I have this Darling little helper at my shop, you should come by sometime and see how they live up to your expectations.” She whispered watching as his ears swiveled around to listen to her but he hummed, his smile growing a little bit more. “I suppose I should, is there something special about this helper?” He asked glancing at her, “Maybe so~” She hummed her attention going back towards Carmilla. The conversation stopped right there as Alastor sent her a quick glance, what was she up to? He hoped she wasn’t trying to set him up again, he was a busy man and didn’t have time for such things..unless she found his little mouse, his darling spouse that he killed for after their death.

Nonsense, they shouldn’t even be down here in this cesspool of filthy degenerates. You couldn’t be down here, he didn’t want to believe it. Even if you had murdered your ex husband, he happily took the blame and fell for the kill, he wouldn’t let your reputation be tarnished as something as dirty as murder. But he must admit, the color of red looked great on you. He only wished to see it more, he only wished to see you more. After you died he had lost himself, he didn’t know another person would affect his ways much like you did. Your smile, your laugh, the way you looked over at him as someone did something insanely stupid. His Mama absolutely outright adored you.

After the meeting had ended, Alastor walked Rosie outside listening to her speak before quickly saying her goodbyes. He looked over to see a familiar figure..one that haunted his dreams when he was alive. But of course you looked different, his smile dropped to a frown as you didn’t even notice him. But the way you happily guide Rosie back to Cannibal Town, using a cane to help you walk. He could see the way you put weight on the foot that got snagged by the trap years ago, had caused you to flinch and put more weight onto the cane. He frowned, he wished he could take that pain away from you.

~~~ 

It had been too long since he had seen you, much too long that he almost forgot the sound of your laughter and the way you smiled. Yet he didn’t forget your face, the same stone cold look you had when you were far into your head or just simply elsewhere, physically next to him but mentally gone. The years he’s known you, the amount of times he has prodded at you to just know what was going on in that mind, he never did find out. He stopped trying after a while especially when you got married to your first husband, he didn’t want that buffoon to find all your weak spots he had found. He didn’t want to share his knowledge of how if he pressed just right he’d get you to crack open that shell and get your blood boiling, he’d occasionally do it when you were alive. Set that thought into motion and allow you to show people how truly venomous you were.

But now, seeing you through the glass of Rosie’s Emporium with that same look on your face made his heart race, that hope he had lost so long ago ran back to the forefront of his mind. He’d get to see that smile again, get to hear you laugh once more. Everytime in the last few months he’d miss you by arriving too late or you were simply not working that day. It had infuriated him to no end, it was like you were trying to ignore him. He’d been looking for you since he had got down here and he was starting to think that you must’ve gotten into Heaven, you deserved it even if you took a life.

But from what Rosie had told him he had been a fool to think you’d forget about him. You talked about him all the time, even going so far as to listen to his radio broadcasts around. Hell..she even told him about the time when he had first done his broadcast, how you were so terrified. He felt horrible for sending his little mouse into a frenzy like that, he’d have to make it up to you instead. So without a second thought, he had waltzed into the shop happily greeted by Rosie and motioned to sit down at the table, as he watched you from the corner of his eye, his crimson gaze upon your form as you fixed up a display from across the room, seemingly in your own world. He didn’t know how to approach you after all these years, he was..if he dared say it, he was scared to see how you would react to him. But all of his thoughts were interrupted when a loud crash was heard making his ears stand up and swivel towards you, you who was standing stock still as a wall staring him down in fear? Or was it disbelief? Your legs trembled as you stood, it was him. Alastor was here, oh fuck..you looked stupid just standing there, say something to him. You opened your mouth but nothing came out before you made yourself look down, quickly cleaning up despite the strain in your leg making pain shoot up. Shaking hands cleaning up the mess as you bit down on your tongue, ignoring the tears that had collected in your eyes. He couldn’t be here, it was way too early for him..he had a career ahead of him. He was THE famous radio host, but he was also a killer and a good one at that, maybe the cops found out or maybe your ex husbands family found out and ratted him out. You shouldn’t have gotten twisted in the game, it was his eventual downfall. It was your downfall but he wasn’t the ruthless killer in your eyes, he was just Alastor the radio host and good friend you’ve known for years. You hated how your jaw clenched and throat closed up uncomfortably, you didn’t like allowing him to see you so vulnerable.

When you finished cleaning up the broken glass and ignored how your throat hurt, you realized that you couldn’t stand back up. Your muscles had locked up from the pain and now you were simply sitting on the ground. That is until gloved hands had slowly helped you stand up, your injured leg curling up like a fawn trying to stand for the first time, a familiar cologne clogging your senses. You missed him so much but you caused this to happen, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other held your arm with a softness unbeknownst to most, the broken glass disappearing in a matter of black and green smoke. “Let’s go sit, Darling.” His voice broke through the ringing in your ears and interrupted the thoughts racing in your head. Slowly moving towards the seats, he helped you sit down allowing your muscles to slowly start to ease up. Alastor watched you, he saw how your jaw clenched and how you seemingly struggled to get a breath in, he wished he knew how to help you properly. He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles, “What’s on your mind?” he asked softly. 

The simple question races through your head before snapping you back into reality, you took a deep breath and shook your head trying to stop the tears. Your voice was nothing but useless to you right now but all you wanted was him- his arms around you as he hummed his tunes. The way it was before you were killed, but nothing could go back to the way it was. Things change and if you don't change with it, you’d be left in the dust awaiting a slow and agonizing death. Laughter intertwined with each sob as you looked up at your husband, “I’m pathetic, surely. I couldn’t even fight off my own murderer.” You hissed out but you weren’t directing it towards him, no..you could never direct the venomous and toxic anger you held in for so long towards him. “I’m the reason you're down here.” Your gaze returned towards the table wiping your own tears away from your eyes. 

Alastor reached over grabbing your hands, watching your gaze shift from the table to him in a flash. “You are not pathetic, Dear. You are a wolf amongst sheep, waiting for the moment to strike. You are stronger than most of these buffoons down here, I should know. I’ve seen you make a grown man cry.” He slowly pulled you closer to his body allowing you to lay your head on his chest, “I’d kill for you over and over, you never were the reason I am down here. Toss that thought out of your head, it would be the other way around.” He whispered out rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “I missed you, Alastor..” You whispered out your voice breaking, his smile softened. “And I missed you, Dear. Even death couldn’t keep us apart.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

Alastor never believed in fairytales or ‘love at first sight’..but yet again, he was proven wrong. 

~~~

Extra:

You huffed, allowing your husband to carefully pull you down the street, “Dearest, are you sure you want me there to help at the Hotel?” Alastor looked over and slowed down his pace, “Of course! I can’t have my darling spouse sitting at home all by their lonesome!” His chest puffed out as you rolled your eyes playfully, “It’s not like I’m bored, Al!” You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder, his smile softening as the arm that was holding yours moved to wrap around your waist as he chuckled allowing the conversation to fall into the comfortable silence he was so used to by now. After decades of being together and the seven years he went missing made this hotel seem like a good idea after all. 

After a couple of moments you had stopped at the door, allowing your husband to pick up his pace to open the doors. You walked in and were immediately greeted by a run down looking Hotel, you grimaced a little before Alastor had appeared beside you. “Holy shit, Smiles! Who did you lure over here?” A voice called out to look over to see a tall spider smirking at him, a soft growl escaped your husband’s smile allowing everyone to look over except Husk, who had met you a while back. “I didn’t lure them over here,” he snarled out before he carefully pulled you closer as his arm wrapped around your waist once more. “This is my spouse.” He finished allowing you to wave at everyone, ignoring the laugh that came from The King of Hell which sent your husband into a frenzy, it hadn’t been a minute yet and you were pulling him away from possibly murdering or being murdered by the King.

Calmly turning him towards you, you carefully smoothed out his suit and smiled up at him, his radio dials switched back to normal as he softly gazed at you. “No killing the King for my honor, Dearest. You’ve been talking to me all day about this Hotel, show me around?” You asked as he kissed your knuckles, “Of course, Darling.” He hummed gently, taking your arm and walking off down the hallway to show you around. 

You’d get used to this. After all you had Alastor by your side and nothing could stop you both now.

Taglist:@fairyv-ice, @kurosstuff

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - epilogue

"you're afraid I won't wait."

"I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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age 30 // attending physician

6th June

Havana, Cuba

The day Taehyung walked away, Cassandra didn't only lose the only man she'd ever loved but also her best friend.

A lifetime without him seemed empty and pointless and she was still mad at him for putting her through this misery.

However, she couldn't hate him, even if she wanted to. He hadn't done anything wrong after all, neither one of them had. What he'd done, he'd done out of love, to keep her far away from the danger lurking around every corner he took.

No. She'd never be able hating him because in the end, he'd never broken her heart. He had just stolen and run away with it.

And it still hurt.

The first first days, weeks, months after the break-up were characterised by denial. She was used to extended periods between seeing him again after all. Even the fact texts and calls had stopped, couldn't change that. Only when postcards had stopped coming as well, it'd finally downed to her.

Of course, in reality she'd already known it long before that, from the very first moment he'd left. She could see it in his eyes. He'd meant it back then, every single word. He wouldn't come back.

And yet, denial kept her from accepting it earlier. Kept her from even admitting or acknowledging it. Denial had her bargaining, believing that, even if he'd meant it, he'd surely change his mind eventually. That he'd certainly regret it. Denial gave her false hope.

When months passed without any new postcard, however, that was when she'd finally let herself admit defeat. When the denial couldn't hold up anymore. When the bargaining ended up in vain.

And instead, a phase of upsetness and depression, in constant pendulation, entered. A permanent restlessness accompanying her from that day on, knowing she'd never be able finding what they'd shared with someone else.

Until she'd finally accepted it and got accustomed to never seeing him again.

The tiny hope she'd once held, long stored back in a box and buried by then. Only the necklaces remained as a remnant of the past, not ready to give them away. One day maybe, but not yet.

However, just because she had managed accepting it, it didn't mean everything was back to normal for her.

Passing by their old places, she couldn't help but always see the ghost of them together there, everything turning dull. Unable to pass by Casa Batlló anymore without aching at the memory of their sunsets, the beach without remembering New Year's Eve, without seeing the 'magic fountain' and remembering his birthday present or the art museum above it where he'd clumsily confessed to her later.

Not even being able staying too long in her own apartment, constantly getting reminded of their first kiss or the countless nights they had spent there laughing, crying, fooling around and loving each other.

Her once dream city had turned blue and gray.

She simply couldn't bear staying in Barcelona anymore after completing her medical training last year, deciding to realise her once silly idea of revisiting the place of her childhood memories for her specialisation training instead.

A place with no attachment to him. Far away from everything and everyone.

She was essentially running away - or at least tried to. Although she knew she'd never be able to fully run away from it all, carrying him with her anywhere she went.

Perhaps there was also an underlying irony in the fact she'd chosen emergency medicine as her specialisation out of all medical fields. Perhaps it was evidence for the residual hold the artful marksman with the cheeky grin and the warm eyes still had on her and probably always would.

Over a year had already passed by now ever since Taehyung had left and interpol showing up hours later, questioning her about the boatyard. Over a year and she still caught herself falling into her memories every once in a while. Still couldn't stop becoming sorrowful whenever she did and plunging into work or her films for distraction.

She felt like a fool, considering a year should've been enough time to get over someone, something she'd used to do in a day or two.

At least she had stopped looking for him in other men a long time ago. Unintentionally comparing anyone she'd crossed paths with him at first, a fatuous and unhealthy habit which thankfully had subdued by now. Not that she even wanted or tried to find anyone to replace him. It'd be impossible, but also the mere thought of any men made her shudder.

No, she didn't even feel like glancing at anyone, much less date anyone. Her busy work schedules and introverted personality were a true blessing after all, making avoiding them easier.

So there she was now in Havana, the capital of Cuba and place of one of her earliest childhood memories.

It was the beginning of summer, although high temperatures had been constant for weeks. But it was nothing she couldn't handle and otherwise she enjoyed her life there so far. She wouldn't have the right to complain anyway, Havana being her chosen getaway after all.

Cassandra opened the door to her apartment in the first floor, the coolness inside a much needed contrast to the warm afternoon outside. Her aparatment was a bit bigger than her old one, but still decorated in a similar fashion. She couldn't get rid of her beloved posters, plants or plushies after all.

Her backpack sliding from her arms to the floor with a thud as soon as she pressed the door shut behind her.

A five-hour-long seminar sounded more painful than it really was, but perhaps she'd simply got used to this, who knew. Numbness to certain things was one of the requirements for this kind of profession, which she had almost mastered by now - finally.

With a dragged sigh, she slipped out of her disgustingly warm sneakers, although she was accustomed to such temperatures, they still took a tall on her. First she poured herself a much needed glass of water. Gulping it down in one go before changing into more comfortable clothes and preparing something to eat.

When the food was ready, she settled in front of her tv to continue watching a crime comedy she'd started awhile ago.

Old habits died hard after all.

The second half of the episode was reached when Cassandra noticed her eyes growing heavy, the tiredness of the day and the food making her drowsy. Eventually fluttering shut, causing her to almost miss the anxious knocking on her front door.

First she dismissed it as a neighbour's hammering, but when she paused the episode to figure out which one it was, she realised the noise was coming from her door. And she tensed up, staring at it with wide eyes.

Wonder mixed with an odd feeling of déjà-vu crept up on her as she slowly went to answer it. Assuming it was just irritation causing her trembling hands as she grabbed the door handle, her knuckles turning white when pressing it down and opening the door.

It felt like a sick joke of the universe first. Then she feared her mind was only playing tricks on her, projecting a memory of him. But it couldn't be a memory. He looked different.

Not because of the beaten up posture and the torn clothes - she had seen him way worse. It wasn't even the shorter mop of waves, tousled and sticking out at some ends, or his broader frame.

No. It was the distress written all over his gentle features, a mild sunburn tainting them in a pinkish shade, that told her something had to be severely wrong for him to stand again in front of her door, more than one year later.

And her initial excitement sunk.

"Cas -" Taehyung tried catching his breath and propped a toned arm against the doorframe. It was evident that he had been running. "I know I have no right, but Jimin - he - he needs you."

At the mention of his friend's name and the way he choked it out, she sensed her initial fear being correct. Something was terribly wrong.

Any lingering feelings and unsolved regrets got swept aside in that moment. Her ego and tiredness long forgotten, instead instincts from years of medical training kicked in. And she immediatelly rushed to the bathroom.

Perplexed at her sudden move, he wanted to call after her when she returned seconds later with a familiar object in her hands. The blue medical kit. She held it firmly in one hand while slipping back into her sneakers with the help of the other.

"Take me to him."

Taehyung smiled softly, not even surprised by the determination in her voice. She hadn't changed at all, she was still the same.

He nodded then, wordlessly grasping her free hand in his and Cassandra let him pull her downstairs to his waiting car.

THE END

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if you wanna know how Tae x Cas's story continues, make sure to read the main story "among thieves" and the sequel "a thief's end" ;)

hope you enjoyed this prequel! it got longer than expected haha

i plan to edit "among thieves" and add more details to make it equally as long as the other stories + i plan to write one-shots for jungkook and jin, perhaps namjoon and hobi, too, if i come up w smth good for them. so stay tuned!

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame