#i'm so sick of family stuff I just want to be left alone please

[thelikesoffinn]

Okay I know Stranger Things is super not popular rn, but I just had this thought - Instagram is at fault, I swear - so imagine hiring Eddie Munson as your "professional boyfriend" for the holidays because your family sucks and you want to piss them off.

And Eddie fucking delivers, 10/10. It's utter chaos everywhere. Your mum is crying, your nan is telling you how improper this is, and your dad is fuming. Your niece is sobbing because she's a brat, and Eddie told her as much, and the one cousin no one likes is laughing so hard that the soup your brother in law brought shoots up through his nose.

I don't even need a proper romance. They can shake hands and go their separate ways. It's enough that he annoys the fam. Pure catharsis, man.

It's so much fun, I love it.

[gloomskulls]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ WHAT LIES UNDERNEATH [cult member peter parker x reader]

pairings: dark! peter parker x reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SUMMARY ୨୧ after losing your family, your friends, and your boyfriend, Peter Parker casually crashes in your life out of nowhere. His presence was welcoming, as his so-called village is too. But his hospitality seems to have something darker underneath

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS ୨୧ NON-CON/DUB-CON (RAPE), heavy manipulation, toxic relationship, cult beliefs, oral (fem receiving), drugging (use of an aphrodisiac), p in v, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, obsessive behavior, mild violence, mentions of death, depression, suicidal thoughts, implied murder. lemme know if I missed any. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

If you don't wanna see my dark stories, please block the tag #madi: dark content

a/n: this is loosely based on Midsommar, it's a really good movie. I have changed some stuff that i didn't feel comfortable writing or I just didn't want to write. Also this maybe the worst smut you've ever read probably. don't steal any of my shit or I'll steal ur head.

"I'm sorry sissy, the darkness is consuming me, and I will take them with me"

Those were the last texts your sister sent you. You were worried sick about her cryptic message and wanted disclosure from her, but she hasn't written back.

Your sister has been known to be a rather mentally challenged person. She was just venting to you. Right?

It was unnaturally still in the air, sitting at your kitchen table with the phone pressed close to your ear. Your fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against the edge of the table, still collapsed trying to ground yourself. All night, your sister has not picked up her phone. The strange text messages she had sent earlier in the day replayed like a broken record in your mind.

How many times have you been thinking of something really wrong, more than you would admit, but still dismissing it?

Somehow tonight felt different.

You texted Harry to reassure you, but the typical unsympathetic reply only served to add more weight to that chest heaviness again. Now you are left alone with your thoughts, and each one seems darker than the other.

You were about to not pick the phone because it looked like a spam call to you. The number was unknown, but that gut feeling inside you made you press accept.

"Hello?" Your voice dared as you strove to steady it.

The unknown caller said your name as they spoke, "Is this her?" The voice on the other end was calm but carried a cold detachment that made your stomach drop.

"Yes," you replied.

"This is Officer Hill with the NYPD. I'm sorry to tell you we've had an incident regarding your family," she said.

Air disappeared from your lungs suddenly, and your grip tightened against the phone. "What kind of incident?"

"I understand this is tough," she said, her voice carefully measured. "But I need you to come to the station. It's better to speak in person."

The issue of reality has been stretched and heavy between you, and it was so unbearable. “No,” you spoke finally in a panic voiding interiorly. “Please, just tell me now. What happened?”

There was a moment's hesitation in Hill's case. In that moment, you could feel the world starting to crack around you.

"There is no easy way to say this," she finally managed to come up with. "Your parents and sister were involved in a fatal accident. I am so sorry."

You could not comprehend those words for a moment. They swayed in the air outside with an unreal and incomprehensible quality. "What do you mean? Are they okay? What—"

"They didn't survive," Hill said softly, and that cut through your spiraling questions.

The phone fell from your hand and banged tipsily on the table. To this resonating rattle in the small space, however, your ear was tuned out. Your chest tightened, and the phrase ran in your brain, echoing in shallow gasps.

They didn't survive.

The days that followed the funeral just passed in a haze of hollow condolences and noise deafening silence. Your world had been torn apart while everything moved forward—all relentless and lame. Harry, your boyfriend of 2 years stayed as he assured you, but his presence seemed more of a fulfillment of an obligation than any comfort.

He was not exactly a cruel person; at least not really overt, for distance was a high-dubious chasm with every awkward conversation and with every minute spent by him scrolling through his phone instead of talking to you. Not blind are you to those glances he exchanged with his buddies once they assumed you weren't watching. There is pity instead of love and comfort in his eyes whenever you cry.

The last straw fell on a quiet Friday evening. You had dragged yourself to the apartment of Harry, looking for refuge in his presence after yet another sleepless night. He was lounging in the couch with one hand gripping a phone while the other was a beer.

"I feel like I'm falling apart," you admitted softly and settled next to him. Your voice cracked, and at last, the tears that were kept in were poured out. "I don't know how to do this without them. I don't know how to… keep going."

Harry glanced towards your direction, the look on his face inscrutable. After that, he set his phone down and fell into this heavy sigh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I understand, okay? But you can't keep unloading things like this on me. It's…it's too much."

Your heart sank. "Too much?"

"I'm not your therapist," he said in defensive. "I don't know what you want me to do. I can't fix this for you."

"I'm not asking you to fix it!" You snapped while accepting the anger that had replaced the hurt. "I just need you to be here. To actually care."

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he diverted his gaze from her, tightening his jaw. "This isn't fair," he muttered.

"What do you mean fair!?" you yelled, your volume rising. "Me grieving my whole family? It isn't as terrible as needing the person who's supposed to love me to act and comfort me?"

Harry stood up immediately and started pacing the tiny living room. "I didn't sign up for this," he said. The words cut like knives. "I feel like… like I'm drowning too. I'm trying to keep my head above water, but here you are, pulling me under."

Your breath literally caught in your throat at that last sentence, as if a blow on the physical plane had hit home. "Is that really how you see me? As one who drags you down?" You asked in disbelief.

However, he stopped pacing and turned toward you, shoulders sagging. "I don't know," he said more quietly. "I don't know what I feel anymore. My friends tell me I should end it. They say I can't do this to myself. But I thought, you know, that might help."

"Help?" you echoed, voice breaking. "You think pity keeping me would help? Do you know how humiliating that is?"

Harry looked away. "Well, I'm sorry! alright!? It's not like I want to be part of your fuckin tenth reason in your suicide note!". Guilt was scrawled across his face when those words left his mouth. "I didn't mean for it to be like this."

You stood waveringly. Nevertheless, your voice remained firm. "If this is too much for you, then spit it out. Be frank for once, Harry."

He hesitated, his silence answering the question you hadn't dared to ask outright.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Well, that's what I figured."

You took your bag and stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind you just before the torrent of tears fell as you stumbled down the street. For the first time in weeks, you were truly alone. Sure, Harry wasn't the best boyfriend, but now you didn't have family, Harry, heck, you don't even have friends to pat you in the back and tell you it's alright.

You were truly alone, crying in the middle of the streets.

A week later, at the dinner party of an old classmate's friend, Peter Parker walks into your life.

Peter wasn't meant to be there—he admitted that soon after you started the talk. "I kind of crashed this," he confessed with a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "I heard there was free food, and, uh… I have no self-control."

You laughed against your will. It was a real laugh that felt vaguely familiar after weeks of grief.

He was awkward but charming, with rapid tumbling out of words out of his mouth as he tried to start a small talk. "So, uh, how do you know Sam? Are you a friend from work? Oh wait, no, you don't look old enough to work with him—wait, not that you look like a kid or anything. I just meant—"

"It's okay," you interrupted, smile still there regardless. "I get it. I am also kinda crashing here, I never really got a proper invite, I just found out from one of my old classmates that there was a party, now here I am"

The more you could talk to him, the more you would discover how easy it was to be in his company. Unlike Harry, who had always been polished and withdrawn, Peter was frank and genuine, emotions laid out for all to see.

And by the end of the night, he had known your family. You had not intended to tell him, but somehow the way he listened— actually listened— made it spill out.

"I'm so sorry," Peter said softly, voice laced thickly with empathy. "That is… I can't even imagine what you're going through. But, if you ever need someone to talk to—or like, someone to distract you with dumb jokes—I'm here."

You've been taken aback by his earnestness. Finally, after what felt like years, someone might have noticed you.

It was indeed one of those nights which made time stretch out into eternity. You were there with Peter on a park bench where the faint light of the flickering city lights was shining through dense bushes and trees. The air was crisp, a cool kind that could very much seep into one's bones, yet Peter's company made it bearable.

He had this way of filling the silence without forcing it: sometimes talking, rambling on about whatever random thought invaded his head, sometimes just sitting with a person comfortable in the quiet, and today, he was acting especially thoughtful, staring at some faraway towers protruding above the skyline.

"Can I ask you something?" he suddenly blurted out, breaking the stillness.

"Sure."

He hesitated, bit his bottom lip as if he couldn't decide how to start, and began speaking. "Do you ever feel like…I don't know, like you're stuck?"

You blinked. It caught you off guard. "What do you mean?"

"Like everybody around you is moving ahead, but you're just there standing still," he explained, his words pretty crumbling out in that earnest, awkward way of his. "Like no matter what you do, you can't catch up."

The question was a little more awkward for you than you'd expected. "Yeah," you quietly admitted. "too many times than how I want it to be"

"It's tiring" he said, his eyes still far. "I get that. After my uncle… well died, after all that, I felt like I was trapped in this… I don't know, this loop. So, I couldn't allow myself to be happy because it would feel wrong, you know? Like I didn't deserve it."

You were gaping at him, flabbergasted by his openness. Peter was not the kind to talk much about himself—not like this, anyway.

"How did you get out of it?" you asked in a soft voice.

He smiled faintly. "I didn't. Not really. But I found something that helped."

"What was it?"

Peter gazed upward at the stars. "My hometown. It's a little dot in the middle of nowhere on the map. Quiet, kind of old-fashioned place. But there's something… something grounding."

He stopped for a brief while, casting a doubtful glance at you. "I go back every summer. It's like hitting a reset button or something. And, uh… would you want to join me this year?"

Totally unexpected. "You want me to go with you?"

"Yeah," Peter said quickly, blushing in the face of it. "If you want to. No pressure, or anything. Just you have been through a lot, and I thought maybe time away might help or something. It's not fancy or anything—definitely not the kind of place with five-star hotels—but it's peaceful. And I'd be there, so… you wouldn't be alone."

At his words, your throat became somewhat tight. He was not offering a vacation. He was inviting you to an escape.

"I don't know," You finally ventured with a little quiver of voice. "What if I just feel worse?"

"You won't," Peter said firmly, his brown eyes locking onto yours. "I won't let you."

There was something so genuine about the way he said it, like he truly believed he could protect you from the weight of your grief.

"What is it like?" you asked, helpless curiosity walking over your hesitation.

Peter's eyes set aglow at that moment, brimming over with a lot of excitement. "Oh gosh! Now where do I even begin? Okay, so there's this diner right in the middle of town. It's run by Mr. and Mrs. Beck. They've been married for like fifty years or something, and they make the fluffiest pancakes you've ever tasted in your life. And then there's this old library. Small, yes, but it has this weird charm, you know? Everything is crooked, and half the books are falling apart, but I love it. Oh, and there's this great big field just outside of town—it's perfect to stargaze because you can see the Milky Way out there. It's insane."

Now he was practically bouncing out of his seat, his enthusiasm almost contagious.

"It sounds… amazing," you found yourself admitting. A small smile tugged your lips.

"It's amazing," Peter said earnestly. "And I think you would love it. Everyone is so welcoming there. It's like… a little bubble of goodness in this horrible world sometimes."

For just a moment, you let yourself imagine it, far from the city and the reminders of everything that had been lost, somewhere I might again breathe.

"Okay," you said finally, barely above a whisper.

Peter's eyes lit up. "Really? You're going to come?"

"Yeah," you said, surprising even yourself. "I think I need this."

"Trust me; you won't regret it," Peter continued, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this trip wouldn't fix everything. Maybe it wouldn't fix anything. But for now, it was enough to know you wouldn't be facing it alone.

It was a surreal feeling about the trip toward Peter's hometown. It was almost a relief because you sensed that you were really leaving everything behind, even thought it was just a few weeks. Driving in a comfortable pattern with Peter talking animatedly about all of the town's strange things, while you listened and occasionally chimed in with a question or a laugh at one of his goofy replies.

As you drove farther from the city and the scenery opened to rolling hills and dense forests before you, Peter shifted in his seat to adjust the radio. The soft tune filled the car and merged with the sounds of the tires over the road.

"You are going to love it," Peter said, glancing at you with an innocent smile. "Air's so fresh it nearly smells fake, and the stars. They're nothing like anything you've ever seen before. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," you said, smiling despite the nervous knot still twisting about in your chest.

The town came into view just about the time the sun started sinking, dipping the horizon in gold and pinks. It was a little bit smaller than you had in mind, the kind of place that probably knew everyone by name.

Peter slowed the car as you entered the main street, which was lined with quaint buildings that appeared to have been plucked from another era. A few of the local's whereabouts were either on their porches talking, in their gardens working, or taking their dogs out for a walk. They would almost wave at Peter as they drove past.

"See? Told you. Nicest people on the planet," said Peter returning the waves enthusiastically.

"No shit," you said, watching a woman coming across with a basket of flowers smile toward you warmly.

Peter stopped in a graveled driveway leading to a homely two-storied fairy tale house. Crooked white picket fence and wildflower-laden garden, there was little that screamed charm.

The moment the car stopped, from the front door, she came, a petite woman in her 30's with brown hair, beaming with kindness in her eyes and warmth in her smile.

"There's my darling nephew!" she called out.

Peter jumped out of the car, practically bounding onto her, hugging her. "Aunt May!"

"And you must be the girl Peter keeps talking about," she said, her bright eyes finding their way to you. "Peter has told me so much about you."

"Oh, um, hi," you said, stepping out of the car and giving a small wave.

"Then that's it," she said, surprising with her strong hug for her small figure. "It's so lovely to finally meet you. Come in! It's rather hot out here during the summers"

Once you stepped into the house, you were met with interior that was as cozy as anyone could expect, the design suggests mixes between vintage and modern furniture, with colorful throw blankets and knickknacks making it feel lived in. There was also a faint waft of freshly baked cookies, which you soon spotted on the kitchen counter.

"Make yourself at home," May said, "Your room's already set up upstairs. Peter can show you around."

"Thanks May," Peter replied, already grabbing your bag before you could protest.

Up came Peter, leading you to a small but cozy guest room overlooking the backyard.

"Hope that's cool," said Peter, dropping your bag next to the bed. "Not fancy, but it's quiet."

"It's perfect," you said, placing your backside on the edge of the bed and taking a moment to breathe.

In the following days, Peter became your own personal tour guide, leading you through the town every nook and cranny, and introduced you to everyone as if you were already a part of the community, and to your surprise, they all welcomed you with open arms

Mr. and Mrs. Beck would insist on serving you their best pancakes while there at the diner even after breakfast time.

"We have heard so much about you," Mrs. Beck said it with a twinkle in her eyes. "Peter's nearly counting the days until you came."

Peter turned red and scratched the back of his neck. "Thanks, Mrs. Beck. Subtle as always."

Library, this was to be; the charmingly ramshackle structure seemed to sag under the weight of its many books. Peter's eyes lit up as he walked through those rows of crooked shelves with his fingers trailing over the spines.

"This here was my escape growing up," he said, pulling a worn copy of The Hobbit from the shelf. "Any time things got… overwhelming, I'd come here. Just me, a book, and a whole lot of silence."

This was the kind of moment when one caught a glimpse into Peter's world of quiet, reflective, introspective thinking where the depths beneath the sunshine state, as always, reside.

The very field that Peter had described so vividly turned out to be even more breathtaking than you ever imagined. The grass stretched out in every direction, swaying gently in the breeze, and the sky above was that of a canvas painted with stars, brighter and bolder than he had ever seen.

With a dramatic sigh, Peter flopped onto the ground, patting a spot next to him. "Come on, you're not getting the full experience unless you lie down."

You hesitated to lie down beside him, letting the cool grass tickle your arms as you stared up at the infinite expanse of sky.

"Wow," you breathed.

"Yeah?" he said, turning his head towards you. "It's like the universe decided to show off or something."

They lay there silently for a good while with the sound of the rustling grass and an occasional chirp of crickets. That was the most peaceful you had felt in a long, long time.

Maybe it was a little initial self-talk that told you it was just small town hospitality. People in cities don’t wave at strangers, though maybe that’s simply what people do out here. Maybe they were just genuinely curious about a stranger in a little place where everyone knows everyone.

But as the day went on, those small gestures, those innocent jests began to feel… different.

It started out slow.

At the diner, Mrs. Beck lingered longer than she ought to while refilling your coffee, her smile warm but sharp, penetrating eyes boring onto you.

"You're feeling like one of us already, aren't you?" she would have said, almost as if it were a statement rather than a question.

You gave a polite smile with no idea of how to answer. "Uh, yeah, everybody's really welcomed here."

"Oh, good," she said, with a firm nod. "That's what we want."

There's something in the way she said it, words weighing a lot more than they were supposed to.

And so it went; the Becks household was not the only one. The pattern held true for nearly every encounter.

"How are you settling in?"

Not "welcome" or "hi and how long are you staying?" The last kind of question you would expect from someone meeting a newcomer. The question, however, assumed permanence. It assumed that you were settling in, that you live here now.

Initially, you passed it off as just another one of those quirks that could be attributed to small-town hospitality. Maybe that's just their way of being polite. But after a few more days, it became pretty hard to ignore the repetition.

You brought it up to Peter one morning as the two of you sat on May's porch, sipping coffee and watching the sunrise.

"Is it just me," you began, keeping your tone light, "or does everyone here ask the same question?"

Peter looked up from his mug, a confused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "What question?"

"How I'm 'settling in.' Like, literally everyone has said it."

"Oh, that?" Peter chuckled, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. "That's just how people are around here. Small towns, you know? Everyone's in everyone else's business, and they just want to make sure you're happy. It's aggressively wholesome."

You nodded while struggling to let his explanation take root in you, but that feeling of unease lingered.

Then came the presents.

The librarian insisted that you check out a copy of Little Women, even if you just went there to browse.

"You'll love it," she said, sliding it over the counter to you with a knowing smile.

"How do you know?" you asked, only half-joking.

Her smile didn't waver. "I just do."

At the hardware store, the owner gave you a tiny potted shrub. "Every home needs a little bit of green," he said cheerfully, but his eyes had a dark intensity that made him more intimidating.

"Thanks," you mumbled awkwardly, holding the plant as you walked out.

It was the kind of gift given to a father like you, not at all because you wanted it, but so they could wave it in your face.

The real breaking point occurred one night at the diner.

Peter was treating you to dinner there after spending the afternoon wandering around town. It was quieter than usual, the counter occupied only by a few regulars. The place smelled of coffee and fries, and while Peter was busy demolishing a plate of the latter, you excused yourself to go to the washroom.

The hallway at the back of the diner is dark and narrow, the overhead fluorescent lights humming in slightly grating tones. At the door marked "Women," you caught snatches of voices from the kitchen-garbled, urgent.

"…And she's settling in?"

"She seems fine so far. Peter's doing a good job keeping her comfortable."

You were frozen with your hand on the doorknob. Your pulse raced. "Good, she has to feel like she belongs, it's important."

Then there was a crashing sound of many dishes, followed by a long heavy pause.

"So," says the first voice, "you think she suspects anything?"

"No. Not yet."

There, silence fell between the voices after that, then just the faintest clink—the sound of silverware-and the quick pounding of your heartbeat resounded in your ears.

When you stepped back to the table, Peter's easy smile greeted you. "Everything cool?" he asked as he dipped a fry into ketchup. "Yeah," you said quickly as you slid into your seat. "Fine."

The mind remained racing.

They must be talking about someone else—a new hire at the diner. Maybe a new family into town. There was no way they were talking about you.

Right?

You tried to shake it off, sinking into Peter's chatter about the upcoming festival, but the unease clung to you like a second skin.

May's small guest room became so beautiful in the rays of the morning sun that they filtered through lace curtains and softly flecked the walls. You stared ridiculously at the ceiling, a heavy weight on your chest, making sleep unusually elusive. Thoughts had been just too loud and tangled.

Those whispers from the diner, the rehearsed kindness from townspeople, and the way he seemed to brush it all off so easily were elusive things you couldn't shake off. The most you told yourself was that it was probably nothing.

This is what you told yourself as you forced yourself out of bed and down the stairs. Peter wouldn't lie to you; he was the most genuine person you knew. Right?

The smell of pancakes and coffee greeted you in the kitchen.

By the stove stood Peter, his hair at odd angles and humming a tune under his breath. For a moment, you let yourself relax. This is Peter, your Peter.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" he greeted, grinning at you with that boyish grin. He slid over a plate of pancakes drenched in syrup and topped with fresh strawberries.

"Morning," you replied, low enough to be heard.

"You okay?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, just didn't sleep much," you tugged and picked little at your food.

"Frowning," Peter said and kept down his fork. "Anything troubling you?"

"No," you lied quickly. "Just one of those nights."

He studied you for a moment, and you forced a small smile. Whatever the unease was, there was no reason for dragging Peter into it. He'd just dismiss it as he always did.

At last, the day was spent in a well-practiced blur of activities. It seemed Peter had made up his mind to keep you as busy as possible, even dragging you around the town park and to that creek he used to catch tadpoles as a kid. And if that weren't enough, he picked you up from the bakery where the sweet aroma of pastries was very strong. Offering you so many pastries till your stomach ached

Evening had cloaked the house in darkness, and so much for bottled up emotions. After dinner, the two of you sat alone in the living room: May well and truly off to bed. And that left you here with Peter sprawled across the couch flipping through some book, while you closed yourself into a tight little knot in the armchair.

"Peter," you broke the silence.

He blinked up at you with alarmed eyes. "Yeah?"

"I need to ask you something."

His brows knitted slightly, but he set aside the book. "Sure. What is it?"

You pause, heart racing. "Last night at the diner I heard something. Two people in the kitchen were talking about me."

Peter's face remained impassive. Still in his eyes, there was a flicker of something that disappeared as quickly as the light.

"What did they say?"

"They said you were doing a good job keeping me comfortable. That I need to feel like I belong." You paused, faltering with your voice. "Peter, what does that mean?"

Peter leaned forward, dangling his elbows on his knees. "It's nothing, they were probably just being nosy. People here care about each other, and when someone new comes in, they get… curious."

"That is not how it sounded," you said shaking your head. "It sounded like, intentional. It sounded much like plotting."

"You're overthinking this" Peter sighed rubbing back on his neck "Seriously, this town—it's different—close-knit. They just want to ensure you feel welcome, happy here, nothing but that".

“Then why does it feel so fake?” you pressed, raising your voice. “Everyone acts like they already know me. Like they’re expecting something to come from me.”

Peter tensed his jaw, and then he did not speak anything for a moment. He then stood up suddenly. "I brought you here for your help," he said in a hard tone. "I brought you here so you might begin a fresh mental state, a place where you could heal. And instead of appreciating it, you are looking for ways to tear it apart."

"I didn't ask for this!" you shot back, standing as well. "I didn't ask to be dragged into some town where everyone acts like I'm part of some… some secret club!"

Peter turned to you, eyes flashing. "You didn't have to ask! You were falling apart. You needed this. And I've been trying my best to make things easier for you, but you can't even see that, can you?"

The words hit you like a slap. Staring at him, breathless, tears filling your eyes. "Peter… why are you doing this?"

He softened immediately, shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to—look, I just… I care about you. I hate seeing you so lost. I thought bringing you here would help, but maybe I was wrong."

You wiped your eyes, and the mind is busy with thoughts. Maybe he is right. Maybe you are over-reacting. Peter was not that manipulative. He was just worried.

"Okay," you said finally, your voice shaky. "But if this town is so great, then why does it feel like there is something you are not telling me?"

Peter's eyes drifted towards the window momentarily—as if to check whether there were eavesdroppers outside—"It is not like that," he said, whispering faintly barely audible.

"Then tell me what it is," you said. "If you want me to trust you, then stop keeping secrets."

Peter sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging. "Alright," he said. "But you're not going to like it."

"And that's supposed to mean what?"

He moved closer, looking you straight in the eye. "Some things are better demonstrated rather than told," he said, his tone even more pleading. "I'll tell you everything tomorrow. Just…give me another day."

You gawked at him, feeling your belly tie up in knots. Every instinct in you screamed to demand answers right now, but for some reason, the look in his eyes stopped you. He looked… desperate.

"Fine," you said with reluctance. "One more day."

Peter nodded, a relief washing over his face. "Thank you," he said almost inaudibly. "I assure you, it will all come into perspective soon."

But climbing into bed that night only made more pronounced the doubts gnawing at you louder than they had done before.

The cold, crisp evening air wrapped tight around you like a noose, as they led Peter into the woods. Try as you might to ignore the uncomfortable hollow in your gut, the longer you sat in this strange, unsettling village, the more you felt that something dark ran underneath it all. Every villager's smile, how they seemed to know just a little too much about you—everything just felt orchestrated, perfect.

You had held the doubts to yourself, buried deep down because Peter had always been the perfect anchor. But tonight, something flickered in his eyes—his tense shoulders and that almost undetectable flash of something darker crossing his face—told you that you were no longer in control.

You entered the clearing, gasping for air by the time you stepped into the structure resembling a stone chapel. The door agonizingly creaked open, bringing in the cold air from outside in juxtaposition with the stifling heat within. There, illuminated softly, were the others. A few you recognized from the eerily quiet familiar faces that watched you through predatory eyes.

It felt thick and heavy in the air, almost stultifying. The walls were closing in, and the silence was becoming almost oppressive. Peter gently but firmly drew you forward, his comforting presence still providing warmth, though everything else seemed wrong.

He was more weathered and older than you imagined, the drawn skin of his face tight over sharp features, pale and unblinking eyes matching his face. The robe hung dark and almost blended into shadows as he approached you. A murmur swept through the people gathered, and you paid little attention. Everything spun in your head and your heart drummed against your ears.

"Peter," said the man with a voice which grated like a rusty hinge, as if he had been whispering for years. "She has come."

Peter's eyes had been fixed on you for some time, and now he nodded slowly. The heat of his gaze made your skin crawl. The man checked you out from head to toe, and his intense eyes seemed to promise a lot of something. "Perfect," he said under his breath but not for too long so that others could hear him as he shouted, "She is the one. It's time."

Time, just like that word, seemed hollow, reverberating in the air around you like a bad omen. Instead, you opened your mouth to argue or question what part of this was really happening, but then, Peter squeezed your shoulder so tightly that it felt like it might crush your bones.

"It's okay," he whispered against your ear with his very warm breath. "I'll explain everything. You'll understand soon enough."

But understanding was the last thing you wanted to happen. All you had in mind was running. The man stepped forward, never breaking the eye contact. "Our village has managed to survive for many centuries and still thrive at its odds. But there is one rule that we have to abide by—there is one rule that can't be broken. After every eighteen years, one of our own must depart from this world and find someone in the outside world—from beyond these walls to someone pure."

Your mouth went dry. "What… what do you mean by that?"

"Every time a child turns eighteen, he must leave for a period of time to spend in the world outside, learn its ways; but after this period, he must return, and he must bring someone from the outside to add to the village."

Your body suddenly turned ice cold. "What do you mean, bring someone from the outside?" You spluttered. Your voice barely made an impression on the silence.

The smile of the man became broad. "A new family member. A mate. Someone to whom they will get married, with whom they will create children. This is the law."

You turned to Peter with wide eyes filled with horror as your heart stuttered deep in your chest. "What do you mean… a mate? You want me to…?"

Peter tightened his grip on your shoulder and breathed shallowly. "That's how it is done. This is how we survive. The village needs strong new blood. The children produced from these unions keep the bloodline pure, preventing inbreeding."

Inbreeding. That one word roared through your mind like no other thought. You couldn't breathe. You felt suffocated under the weight of all that.

"What… what are you saying?" you gasped, stunned and unable to take in everything being revealed to you.

Peter stepped even closer; eyes dark with something almost predatory. "That's how this works. You're part of the plan now. You have no choice. You are here because you were chosen. You are going to help us keep the village alive. Our survival depends on… "

"No," you whispered, stumbling backward as you tried to retreat. "No, this isn't right. You can't—this isn't—"

And suddenly, an old man stepped beside you, his shadowy tallness overshadowing you. "You will understand soon. You are not the first, nor will you be the last. Every child who leaves returns with someone. And they will mate, they will bear children. This is how we preserve our people, how we protect our bloodline." He said as if it was your duty, as if this was your destiny.

"No!" You screamed tearing the air with your voice now choked in emotions. "This is insane! You're insane!"

The gentleness from Peter that used to soothe you all vanished, replaced by the steely resolve. He took another step forward, and instinctively you recoiled. "I did not want you to have this," he said, his voice low and strained, "but it is how it is. You will come to understand, and you will see that it is for the best."

The other villagers watched you with silent intensity as the space surrounding you felt as if it were closing in on you, with walls pressing from all sides. You could feel their hungry and expectant eyes on you.

You wanted to run. You wanted to yell.

But as soon as the old man reached out his hand to grab you, Peter's hold on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you anchored. "You don't understand yet," he said quietly, his voice tinged with something darker, something that, as it sent chills down your spine, made you think he was going to take you off somewhere to be tortured. "But you will. Soon, it will make sense. The only way to survive is this. This is something we can't let you ruin."

You were trapped. The weight of their expectations crushed you, their smiles now twisted masks of something monstrous beneath.

"Your child will also do the same duty," the old man said softly. "When they come back to the village with their mate, they will fulfill their destiny. They will carry our future."

Your chest constricted. Every part of you screamed to escape, to run, to fight against the suffocating nightmare into which you had been dragged. All the while, in the depths of your consciousness, you knew that there was no escaping this; they had planned for this. They had chosen you.

Back against the stone wall of the chapel now, your breath came in rapid, gasping suction since the reality began to drown in you. It beat loudly in your chest, a frantic mind racing for exit routes, for freedom from the path that had been laid out for me like a spider's web in all its horrible detail.

Peter's gaze was cold and cruel; it was no longer the warm presence one had hoped for. The heady words of the old man echoed in your ears, chilling and impossible to escape, like a curse. "You will return. You will bear our future."

As impossible as it was to believe, you finally realized it, this fucked up cycle wanted you to be part of it—and not by choice.

But you weren't going to let that happen.

You pushed past Peter and felt the sharp sting as he grabbed at your arm. You broke free, legs now trembling beneath you, as you headed for the door. You had to get out. You didn't know where you were running, but the woods were the only option. The only chance at freedom. You burst through the chapel door and into the cold night air, stumbling over uneven ground.

You heard footsteps behind you, but you didn't dare look back. The wind howled around you, swallowing up any sounds from the village. Your lungs burned as you pushed yourself faster, harder, your breath ragged from panic clawing at your chest.

You didn't look up when you heard a car approaching, but you didn't stop either, as your mind told you to keep running, to escape, but your legs were beginning to fail you.

The car stopped short before you, the headlights blinding. You turned with a wild heart as the door to that vehicle swung open. A man in a police uniform stepped out, his expression unreadable.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked, with a soft voice but underneath carrying an authority.

He wouldn't let you trust him, and you could be in danger. "I-I need help," you stuttered, barely able to catch your breath. "They're chasing me. They—they won't let me leave."

The officer stepped closer, his eyes darting toward the woods behind you. "Who's chasing you? What happened?" His voice was smooth, coaxing, calm.

You stumbled toward him, the last shreds of your resistance slipping away. His presence was comforting, the uniform a familiar sign of safety in this strange world that had turned upside down. "Please," you gasped. "I need to get out of here. Please help me."

The officer smiled, that warm, almost paternal smile that gave you a moment's feeling of cocooned safety. "You are well within safety here. Get into the car and I'll take you to the station. They won't find you."

You didn't even think twice about it. Worn out and shivering, you climbed into the passenger seat of the car. The door slammed behind you, then the engine revved into life. You sank into the seat, closed your eyes, letting the sound of the engine create an illusion of safety. Finally, you escaped. Finally, you could breathe again.

The engine growled before heading out with the officer looking at you and softening his expression to almost a grin. "A strange night out here, huh?" Are you really sure you are, okay?"

You shook your head, catching your breath. "I need to get away from those people… I don't know who they are but they're dangerous."

"People can be dangerous, can't they?" he mused.

You glanced at him. "Yeah, I guess. I just don't know who to trust anymore."

Soft chuckle from him, as if to sense that it sounds contrived, that it has to be learned. "What's trust? You just have to know whom to get along with and whom to avoid. It requires experience."

You just turned to the window and trees and darkness rushed by. The mind was reeling from the attempt at grasping everything that has happened as it was really too much: the town; the event; Peter's cold stare; and now this—this officer who has apparently materialized at just the right moment. He must be the one sent to rescue you.

"Where are we off to?" You asked

"Oh, just a little way out of town," he replied, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. "Nothing to worry about."

You nod, fatigue dragging heavily on your eyelids. For a moment, it felt good, like all was well. But then the cop's voice became a personal one.

''I'm Steve by the way, Steve Rogers. Was just coming here for a quick stroll," he began, "I never thought I was going to be out here, helping someone like you. It is really funny, how life turns out."

Brow furrowed, and incomprehension written all over the face. "What do you mean?"

The very slight narrowing of the officer's eyes at you, just for an instant, was followed by his returning gaze to the road ahead. "I spent a lot of time in these parts, and the people can be somewhat…. they are peculiar. But then, I guess you already know that."

Heck, what was he talking about? "What do you mean by a little hard to understand? Who do you mean by that?"

Just above a smile, something confidential, something dark, flickered across the officer's lips. "Well, my wife, Peggy… she was from around here. She got them, you know? Understood what was going on. It took me a long time to realize it, but eventually, I figured it out. I did too."

Your heart stops, hammering against the confinement of your ribs. "Peggy… Carter?" That name rang in your mind like a bell, sharp and dissonant. You had heard that name before, only in whispers, a long time ago.

From what you remembered Peggy Carter was one of the most vicious woman in the police force, even in her short time in doing her job. One day she got married to a man named Steve and nothing was heard from her again. As if she disappeared, she completely left her job and duty, and so did Steve who was a fellow police like her who also vanished from the face of the earth. That was all you knew, and all of that happened 10 years ago. Many believed they moved. Some believed

The officer's smile brightened, but now it had no warmth. His voice went down low, as if telling you a secret you weren't supposed to know, "That's right. Peggy Carter. She was special. A part of something much bigger than either of us ever realized. I didn't understand it at first. Thought she was just a regular woman… but then I saw it. I saw everything for what it was."

It had caught in your throat because your mind was connecting all the dots. Peter, in actual fact, couldn't stop saying that you were here for a bigger thing, that you actually belonged. And now there is the officer, Peggy Carter, the strange village thing, the quite twisted ceremony—now everything starts to get clearer while terrifying you.

Your pulse raced, and once more, you cast a glance at him, eyes wide with realization. "You… you’re one of them, aren’t you? You’re one of their… their plan.”

For just a second, something shadowy, something colder, flicked through his eyes; and with that flicker, somehow you knew you'd made a terrible mistake trusting him.

Steve Rogers, the cop smiled "I was hoping you'd come around sooner or later. You're a bit smarter than I thought," his voice was light, like he was discussing the weather. "However," a dangerous tremor lurked below his words. "Peggy always said you'd be the perfect addition - just like I was, just like she was."

You sprung back, your first instinct was to reach for the door handle, but before your brain could register what was happening, the vehicle shifted violently. Body flung against the door; your head crashed against the metal side with a sickening thud. Stars exploded behind your eyes, and suddenly, everything muffled.

When you woke up from what felt like the worst sleep in your life, but you weren't sleeping, or did you just doze off and you couldn't remember any of it? Everything felt like a blur, memories were juggled up, and everything seemed out of place. How did I get here again? You thought to yourself.

It was strangely silent all around. The engine's rhythmic humming gave way to a stifling, heavy silence. You couldn't move. The air around you was thick and stifling; you had a throbbing headache that was likely to make you nauseous.

You couldn't even comprehend what was happening before you saw the door of the car opened, your whole-body weight made you fall off the vehicle. You audibly groaned as your body hit the rough dirty cement

Lo and behold, standing right in front of was Steve Rogers, towering above you, his face expressionless. His cold stare that piercing through your soul at you while your arms continued to adjust the sleeves of his uniform with a calm expertise.

He circled you as if he was predator cornering its prey. He stopped just at your head. He looked at you with an expressionless face, he slowly smiled, the creepy type of smile you would see psychopaths do on movies.

You wanted to run, punch him in the face and fucking run. But you couldn't, it felt as if your feet have already given up on you, plus the blooming pain in your head made it hard to think.

"It just never gets the job done" He frowned momentarily, your eyes widened in fear as you saw him take a beer bottle from behind his back, you shook your head, no please, please, please. You tried your best to crawl away from him, but you couldn't even feel your legs.

You sobbed in defeat, but he just caressed your cheek and wiped your tears away, as if to lure you into a false sense of security. With all the softness of a feather, he said, "You'll be fine," really more to reassure himself than you. "The ceremony's just waiting for you."

Before you can act, a hard bang on your head seems to lurch your stomach. The officer had swung a beer bottle at your skull; it hit with a sickening crack and within the instant the pain exploded into darkness pressing behind your eyes, and the world went black.

It was the scent of incense—sickeningly sweet and heavy enough to churn in the stomach. Candlelight flickered. shadows danced on stone walls, making the small space feel smaller by the second.

You woke up all lethargic with a blooming headache. You felt relaxed underneath the soft bed that you laid, but once you took in the stone walls, it felt like a train has hit you. All of the events from a few hours ago running you over.

Your mind raced, scrambling for an escape route, but all you saw was Peter standing between you and the door.

He never looked more like a stranger.

The once boyish charm which drew me to him was now a hollow mask as he hid himself behind his dark eyes. The face had no malignance—worse, it was soft, almost tender, like he really believed in what he was about to do. And that thought haunted me most terrifyingly.

"You are trembling," Peter said, his calm and soothing voice only making the fear spike higher. "I know it's a lot, really overwhelming, taking it all at once… but… it will be okay, I promise you."

"Peter, please," you whispered, your voice breaking into pieces at the seams. You could hardly utter a word without your throat choking it. "You don't have to do this. Let me out. I promise I won't tell the police—"

But that was where he cut you off by shaking his head sadly. "You don't understand. This is my home. It is where I belong. And now, it is where you belong too. We are part of something bigger here. Something meaningful."

"Meaningful?" you spat. "You kidnapped me, lied to me, and brought me here to…" The words cracked at the tightness in your throat. You couldn't even say them. I dawned onto you that you have been too trusting with Peer, but who wouldn't? Who knew that clumsy little sweet Peter was capable of doing something this fucked.

Peter stepped closer, casting a shadow over the too small room where it suddenly felt claustrophobic and anchoring. “I didn’t kidnap you. I saved you.”

His voice is insistent, though not harsh. “You were lost out there. Alone. No family, no one who cared about you. Don’t you see? This is your chance to start over, to have a purpose. To be loved.”

“Loved?” The word struck your lips like venom. “This isn’t love, Peter. This is… this is sick.”

It darkened slightly his countenance, as a spark of frustration crossed his face before it was replaced by forced patience. "You're scared," he softly pronounced. "That's normal. But fear does not last. Once you embrace your role, once you understand what we're building here, you'll see that it's not sick. It's beautiful."

“No,” you whispered, the soft sound swallowed by the thrumming of your heart. “No, this isn’t survival. This is—”

“But” Peter cut you off firmer now like a knife slicing through your protests. “It’s already decided. The village chose you. I chose you. And now… it’s time to fulfill your purpose.”

Peter looked at you, with a voice deceptively soft. “It’s not about what you want. It’s about what the village needs. What I need. We can’t let our bloodline die. Every generation, we bring someone in—someone like you. It’s how we survive. How we thrive.”

“Not,” that voice barely came out through the rapid pounding of your heart. "No, this isn't survival. This is—"

The words sent the waves of nausea throbbing through you. Your knees buckled, landing you onto the edge of the bed, your body shaking violently. Peter knelt before you, hands gentle as they gripped your knees. The touch made your skin crawl, but you were frozen, paralyzed by fear.

"You are afraid," he repeated, the tone almost tender. "it needs to be this way. After the ceremony, you'll see there is clearly a need for it."

"Peter," you choked out, barely in a whisper. "Don't do this, please."

He tilted his head, softening in expression as if he really thought given how pitiful you look. "This is for them. For us. For the village. You'll thank me one day."

The door creaked open, and two women stepped in to the door. They moved with quiet, almost unnerving precision their white, long, and flowing robes covering the ground as they entered. Both had faces that seemed devoid of emotion—serene but cold as if they had performed this ritual hundreds of times before.

You instinctively tried to press yourself into the corner of the bed pulling down from Peter. “Who are they?” you asked unsure though your voice came out shaky and weak.

Peter turned toward the women; his posture casual almost welcoming. “They’re here to help,” he said softly as though the explanation should comfort you.

Help. The word in your stomach was like poison. You didn’t need help. You needed to escape.

One of the women carried a bowl filled with a dark unknown substance that shimmered strangely in the candle's light. She laid the bowl down on a small wooden table near the bed, her movements carefully controlled. The other carried a smaller cup with her fingers clutching tightly as she looked at you.

“Don’t,” you said, your voice trembling as you shook your head. “I’m not drinking that.”

It’s just to help,” he said calmly. "You’ve been through so much. You lived so much. You’re shaking. You’re exhausted. This will relax you.”

“I don’t want to relax!” you cracked your voice rising in desperation. “I want to leave! Please, Peter, don’t do this!”

He sighed, as though disappointed but his patience did not waver. “I know you’re scared,” he said reaching out to hold his hand on your knee. “But this isn’t about fear. It’s about trust. You trust me, don’t you?”

Your stomach tilted and a cold wave of nausea was rolling over you. Why would he even ask that question? "Peter, you are not the person I thought you were. I don’t trust you. I don’t even know you anymore.”

Peter’s jaw tightened somewhat ever so slightly, as if flickering with guilt. Peter was the funny and clumsy guy you met at a party, but this Peter. You don't know which dimension he came from. But his guilt was immediately gone in an instant replaced by the same calm, unnervingly patient expression, accompanied with a reassuring smile that could've been comforting in different circumstances.

“It’s my fear. I think that can be said,” he said, his tone softening again. "Once you let go of this, you will see. You’ll feel better.”

He gestured toward the woman with the cup to reach closer to you. Her movements were graceful, fast rehearsed as she held the drinking. The cup itself was simple, wooden. But compared to what's inside looked nothing compared to ordinary. It was a dark murky brown with faint swirls of crimson that seemed to ripple on its own.

Your stomach churned at the sight of it, you wanted to gag at the thought of even coming in contact with that liquid, you said again "I won't drink that." Your voice barely above a whisper.

The woman didn’t respond. She held the cup in her hand, as if waiting for you drink it still.

Peter reached for your hand and firmly gripped on it, but not a forceful one. "It’s okay,” he said softly, his eyes locking with yours. “This will help you. I promise.”

You tried to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, and the woman moved the cup closer to your lips. Panic rolled. Your heart began to beat, and tears were falling from your eyes. “No!” you shouted thrashing against Peter’s hold. “Let me go!”

But he didn’t let go. His strength was shocking and unyielding as he held your and instructed the woman to force the drink in your mouth. The dark liquid sloshed down the rim, spilling onto your trembling chin as you refused to open your mouth, moving your head back and forth so that you could just avoid the unknown and disgusting liquid.

“Please don’t fight this!” Peter shouted; his tone now laced with urgency and desperation. "It’s better if you just let it happen."

The woman tilted the cup and poured the thick liquid into your lips. You clenched your teeth, refusing to let it in. Peter’s hand moved to your jaw, his fingers pressing firmly until your mouth opened involuntarily. Liquid graced on your tongue, its taste vile and metallic like rotting herbs and rust.

You gagged and coughed violently as they forced you to swallow. The bitterness burned all the way down, leaving an acrid aftertaste that made you want to rip out your tongue, you fell on the bed as you gripped your throat—massaging your throat, a pathetic attempt to soothe the taste that felt like it travelled all the way down to your throat, it didn't have any burning sensation, it just felt like your throat had taste buds.

You convulsed on the bed, “What the- What was that?” you asked; out of breath as you tried to gasp for air.

Peter stood “You’re going to feel it soon,” he said, pushing a damp lock of hair off your brow.

It was a gentle warmth blooming in your chest, then outward like the bright afterglow from the strongest of drinks. Then it grew. It scorched through your veins, making your skin feel alive with a burst of tingling sensations. Your breaths came quicker as you kept trying to dismiss the feelings, but they just wouldn't listen.

“W-What is happening to me?” came the stammers from you in a trembling voice.

Peter knelt beside you again, touching your knee ever so lightly with his hand. “The elixir is working its magic on you,” he said kindly. “It allows you to let go. To free yourself to connect with what is meant to be.”

This warmth soon transformed into a more diabolical sensation, a slow burn that throbbed low in your stomach that stretched to your clothed womanhood. Suddenly every nerve ending on your skin was hypersensitive, sending a shiver down your spine against that crawl of fabric over your body. Heart racing, but it was hardly with fear.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No, this isn’t right.”

Peter merely smiled all the wider and relaxed his squeeze on your shoulder. “It’s okay to feel this way,” he said. “Your body is just responding. It’s natural.”

While your mind was telling you every reason to fight it off, your body would have none of it. That heat, the damn heat; it clouded everything snuffing off every thought but that strange feeling growing in you.

Peter leaned in closer as he whispered “This is how it’s supposed to be. Don’t fight it. Just let it happen.”

Your brain screamed against this intrusion, invoking all the force it could muster to reject it, to reject him. But your limbs felt heavy, thick, sluggish, as though they had been clapped into a steel frame. The drug took effect, you loathed it and wished to deny the dull calling of unwanted pleasure.

"Please," you managed to whisper, letting your tears flow down your cheeks. "Don't do this."

In every way this was wrong. You didn't want to partake in this, you wanted out. Peter was not the person you thought he would. Maybe he was before all of this, but not now.

Peter held your face with both his hands—gentle yet firm. "It's been done," he said, pinning his gaze on yours with steady resolve.

The heat had become unbearable; it drummed against your thoughts and created ceilings that pressed down on you. You could hardly breathe, each breath barely manageable since all control was lost over thoughts revolving around him. The very touch of him inflamed every nerve in your body.

Peter continued to lean forward until the distance separating your two faces became almost nonexistent. The darkness of his brown eyes was rendered soft, for all that, it was chillingly out of place now. "You're trembling," he said softly, his voice dipping with mock concern as he brushed his palm over your damp forehead, lingering perhaps a moment too long.

You turned your head away, yet your body was heavy and unwilling to cooperate. "P-please," you whispered, not even sure what it was you were begging for at this point—mercy, some distance, anything but this.

Peter's hand slid down again to cradle your face, thumb grazing your cheek. The warmth of his touch felt like additional treachery against your body, which leaned into his hand, once again, even though the screams of your mind were saying otherwise. "Shh," he said, his voice dropping to a soothing pitch. "It's okay. You're safe here. With me."

His words twisted a knife that lodged in your heart, and you were still trying to find a protest when his other hand clamped on your waist—gentle yet firm. Just enough pressure was applied to make acutely aware of every detail of your closeness: the scent of wood smoke and something faintly sweet, flooding your senses and drowning all your composure.

"You've had to fight for so long," he said; there was almost a tenderness in his voice. "Let it go—let me take care of you."

You shook your head weakly, your lips parting to say no words that would come. Everything in you resisted, heavily dulled by the drug that now crumbled your defenses and left you helpless to bask in warmth blossoming in your chest and the sickening affinity of Peter's presence.

He angled his face, gazing down at you as the thumb of his right hand traced the curve of your jaw. "So beautiful," he murmured, almost a whisper. "Yet you don't even see it? You are something else—so special."

The tears that had built up in your eyes crashed down, scalding lines down your cheeks. "Please," you said again, but it came almost like a feeble whisper, your power to protest fractured.

Peter leaned forward, and his breath ghosted over your lips. "I've waited for this," he murmured, as though revealing a secret. "Waited for you. I thought I would never even have a chance with you since you were so fucking smitten with your dick of a boyfriend. But you're mine now,"

And before you could think, hit him back or convince him otherwise, his lips crushed against yours.

The kiss was languid, purposeful, and claiming. His mouth flowed with an unsettling confidence, an almost eerie manifestation of such rehearsed movement, if it existed at all. You wanted to break apart from him and scream and fight him, but your body let you down one last time; it was folded under the drug and against the full force of his presence.

His hands moved, one remained cradling your face, while the other tightened at your waist as a gentle reminder that you belonged nowhere else. It was a kiss more claiming than forceful, a silent proclamation of his ownership over you.

He finally pulled away but only to press his forehead to yours, feeling warm against your skin. "It's time" he whispered, it was loud enough for the women to hear. They immediately scurried out of the room and closed the door on their way out.

Before even asking what was going on, Peter attacked your neck. You shrieked at his sudden actions. He kissed, licked, and bite every single portion of your neck.

Peter's hot tongue licked your skin as he leaned closer, lips barely grazing the curve of your neck. A shiver made its way down your spine as he softly sucked on the sensitive flesh, forming this sweet vacuum that made your heart stand still.

Peter kept on kissing and nibbling at your neck, fueling his excitement that grew hotter like a fire, determined to engulf you both. His hands tightened around your waist, drawing you closer as he deepened the kiss, lips and tongue moving together in a dance that spoke both pleasure and pain.

You winced; you want nothing more but for this to end. You tried to imagine yourself in another scenario, a happy one. That one time where Harry bought you this wonderful necklace for your one-year anniversary. Things were still calm, peaceful.

You were so deep in thought that the ripping sound of fabric made you flinch. You have realized that Peter has ripped off your thin graphic t-shirt, leaving nothing but your bra on full display for him. But of course, the bra didn't stay on for long.

He ripped your bra off you with such force. He threw the bra elsewhere, that was the least of his worries as your he saw your mounds with all its glory. Blood rushed up to his cock at the sight of you half naked and slightly damp from sweat. You on the other hand just wanted nothing more but all of this to end.

Peter leaned in, his lips grazing your skin down to the soft curve of your delicate breast. His mouth latched onto your nipple, and he started to suckle; the soft gentle tug sent a jolt of sensation radiating through your body. Your hands fisted the sheets as you let out a shriek.

"You have no idea how long I have waited for this moment" His words came in muffled since he was still stuffing his face with your breasts, but you heard it loud and clear. How blind were you? Peter has been lusting over you, longer than you even met him, how come you never realized it? All the warning signs were there, but they were subtle, now they're just coming to light now that it was too late.

He had grown more daring now, sucking, kissing, and licking every inch of your breasts. He nibbled and sucked at the curves, gently biting the flesh around them. Meanwhile, his hands traveled all over her torso, cupping and squeezing dear breasts as if to remember every contour.

"So beautiful," he whispered in between kisses. "Perfect. Mine." Those words sent a shuddering chill up your spine.

Peter stared into your eyes while he was sucking and nibbling on your breasts. They would have been a sweet sight if the present state of affairs were any different.

He released your nipple from his mouth, as drool connected from his lips to your erect nipples.

With urgent impatience, Peter fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and then tore it off, revealing a sculpted torso that demanded attention. The muscles of his torso flexed while he moved, and for a second, you could not help but look at the sheer grace and control that radiated off his body.

Now, Peter had long ceased to be interested in himself; he was now concentrating all his energy and attention on you. The moment he grabbed hold of your pants, and his fingers had clasped tightly around the waistband, panic ran through you at the sight of him pulling down on them. You didn't want to give in, not now, not ever.

Your hands went straight up to push against him; you punched at his chest with all the remaining strength that you have that wasn't stripped off by the drug. Your fruitless attempt on trying to gain some space between your bodies.

"Peter, no," you said, your voice wavering but earnest. "I don't want to. Please!"

His eyes never left the prize, and nothing was going to stop him. He yanked your pants down, regardless of how you kicked and thrashed against the force with which he was pulling. Your underwear met the cool air.

A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized that Peter was staring down at the small scrap of fabric that barely covered you in your most intimate area.

He wrapped his fingers around your underwear's waistband. You tried to squirm away from him, but he held you tight, his grip like a vice. In one swift motion, he ripped the fabric from your body, leaving you completely bare.

Peter's eyes had wandered across every inch of your naked body, you tried to look away from him, but your face was met with a wet pillow, you didn't even notice that you have let out a few tears.

Peter dove on to your crotch and his warm breath rolled over your sensitive skin like a wave of fire. His tongue flicked out as he suckled at your clit, and involuntarily, jolts of electricity pulsed up your spine. You attempted to push him off you once more, but Peter was far too strong

Peter continued his assault on your pussy, you felt a familiar sensation happening. You shook your head as your body betrayed you. Peter seemed to notice this, "There she is"

Before you knew it, he inserted a finger in your hole as he continuously licked your clit with such vigor.

You let out a strangled moan as your hand flew to his hair. Peter smirked at this as he slowly fucked you with his finger, which was a stark contrast to his tongue who ravished you like you were his last meal

"God, such a tasty pussy" He murmured, which just sent vibrations to your pussy. He continued, his tongue circles your clit, licking and sucking on it like he can't get enough. "Good lil fuckin pussy" He moaned as if he's the one getting head.

He continues to lap on your juices, slurping any arousal seeping through as if he hadn't drunk water in many years.

His voice low and soft, whispering how good it is, how perfect your sweet pussy was for him. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sweet—so good for me. God, I'm so glad your mine now." He kisses it so passionately, muttering praises to it while his tongue laps you up.

And as he continued to lick and suck at your clit, you felt a building pressure inside yourself. It felt like every nerve ending had been ignited by Peter’s ministrations.

Your legs stiffened, your hips jerked upwards, and your entire body began to tremble with anticipation.

With such joy and pain, you felt like you were seeing stars right in front of you. The intensity was too much to bear as your grip on Peter's hair tightened

That instant when the knot finally snapped and a deluge of pure, harmless ecstasy engulfed you, your body contorted, muscles oscillating and contracting rhythmically; an intense orgasm swooping upon you like a tempest.

Your legs stiffened and your toes curled in pleasure. You clutched at anything and everything. Peter's hair, bed linen, anything to hold on to the threads of reality, as everything before your eyes dissolved into an ocean of forced bliss.

River of tears were falling from your eyes. You couldn't help but reminiscence your time with Harry. For the first years you were together with Harry, he was sweet and loving, even if your relationship has turned sour after Harry found another hobby, he would never force himself inside you. When you had sex, it was always consensual.

With the final ripples of the orgasm fading away, Peter finally pulled his head from between your legs. His gaze brushed over you with a kind of possessive pride, and he took the disarray of your body in the messy fondle of your hair, the daze that lingered from where he brought you so close to the edge that you fell over it, and the slick of sweat glistening over your skin.

“You look tired,” Peter said with a soft almost guilty tone, "But I'm afraid that that was just to prepare you, were just beginning"

When those words came out his mouth you shook your head as you begged him, "Please Pete, please" You sobbed, your words barely even intelligible.

"Shhhhhhhh" He shushed you, "The more your accepting, the sooner this will end" No, you didn't want to accept this, there must be another way, there must be.

As he stood up and took off his pants, exposing his erect cock. His cock slightly bounced once the boxers were fully off of him. He climbed on top you as both of you were now fully naked as the day you were born.

"The bedding ceremony is about to begin” Peter said, low in his throat, his voice husky with desire. “It's going to hurt, but I think I prepped you enough”

He then aligned his cock to your slit. You gasped as his bulbous tip entered you, he wasn't big, but he was thick. He slowly pushed his cock inch by inch inside you, your sensitive flesh was still sore from the previous orgasm.

Peter suddenly thrusted deep inside you, fully losing patience, with a forcefulness that took your breath away. His cock touching your cervix when he bottomed inside you, it felt almost painful how intense it was.

“Please, Peter,” you pleaded, attempting to push him away. "You're hurting me."

But Peter just smiled at you, it gave you tingling shudders through your spine. “That's the first step of the ceremony” he said, pulling out then plunging back in. “You just have to learn to accept what I’m giving you, if you learn maybe Goddess will reward you"

His relentless cock was battering your insides, and you were starting to tear up. It was nearly unbearable agony; the pleasure was subtle that you could barely even get the gist of it, the searing warmth that burned itself into your very essence.

“Stop,” you said again, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "Please just stop."

Through the pain and the fear, you never lost hope. So you fought back with a passion you never had before.

Your hands raked Peter’s chest, ripping at his skin to the point he grunted in surprise. Your fingers sank into his skin, but he only chuckled—a sound that was hollow and empty.

Unfazed, you fought on. Your teeth dug into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to make him hiss. But even as he grimaced, he wouldn’t stop — his hips pumping a relentless rhythm, one that threatened to swallow you whole.

You swung your fists, punching into Peter's face and chest with a frenzied abandon. Forced down in front of him as he sunk his cock deep within your needy hole, you tried to twist away, to squirm free as he held you in place, the weight of his body pinning your hands above your head, forcing you to take this.

And you tried, even though it was entirely pointless. You kicked your legs to try and buck him off you. But he was too heavy — too powerful — and he laughed again as he kept your legs pinned down beneath him.

With each thrust Peter grew more aggressive; almost brutal the heat inside you was burning you up; threatening to consume all reason and make you numb.

You were lost in the agonizing bliss, as Peter's cock continued its merciless assault on your insides. The fire in your belly grew more intense, it felt like it was spreading through your insides like wildfire.

"God, you're squeezing me so hard" Peter breathed as his thrusts slowed down just a little bit.

Yet whilst you sensed you were in pieces on the inside, that you were toppling apart, something in you relished it. It felt like your body had turned against you, reacting to the vicious attack with a disgusting cocktail of agony and pleasure.

Peter thrusts forward and you felt your hips bucking in time with his, your mind spinning in horror. It was like your body had created its own consciousness that responded immediately to the arousal with animal instinct that couldn't be suppressed.

You were losing yourself in the sensations, being sucked into a world both dark and depraved, where no line could be drawn between pain and pleasure. It was the most terrifying feeling in the world, when you wondered if you would ever find a way out of the grip of this monster who was responsible for everything.

With every thrust, Peter became more aggressive, more brutal - You could feel yourself losing control; teetering on edge, ready to plunge headfirst into unknown; uncertainty ignited both fear and anticipation.

Your breaths were coming in small gasps now as Peter gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like a vice. You attempted to move; attempted to wriggle against him—but it was futile: he was too strong

This friction just poured gasoline into the flames that had been raging within you—turning those pleasurable sensations into unbearable ones. The edge of your sight blurs out; stars dance along the border of your vision as the world narrows down on a single point of focus: Peter

In pure ecstasy moment you found yourself surrendering, submitting to the wave pleasure that is tearing up your body. Its fear inducing and freeing sensation — like leaping off a precipice without a net — not knowing what awaits at the base.

The world went white and quiet. You hear Peters voice in your ear whispering "Come for me" and with that your body explodes into thousand pieces

You weren't sure what happened, your mind all fogged and your pussy sore. The only thing you have noticed was that Peter was still thrusting inside you.

He leaned as he whispered the most haunting words into your ear, "I almost feel bad for you. I guess you should always follow what your parents says, don't trust strangers"

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

[holdmytesseract]

Hii! It’s me again, back at it with another request (your writing is just so good! I can’t get enough of it).

So this is another dad!Daryl one, one where the reader is pregnant. So we know that some of the Saviours in season 9 didn’t particularly like Daryl because of everything that happened. What if a couple of the Saviours cornered the reader and kidnapped her, taking her to some place to keep her in. Daryl, naturally, is seeing red and will do just about anything to get her back. Angst with a happy ending.

Love you if you write this, love you if you don’t! 💜

What I do, I do for You

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When two Saviors kidnap you - Daryl's pregnant wife - in order to score him off, the archer sees red and does everything to safe you... Everything.

Set in Season 9!

Warnings: Lots of bad stuff is happening, so please act with caution! usual TWD stuff, a lot of angst, pregnancy stuff, violence, blood, character death, murder, brief mentions of rape, FLUFF, Justin & Jed (yep, they're a warning), please tell me if I missed something!

Also, protective!Daryl alert. He goes absolutely feral.

Word Count: 6.9k

a/n: @dixons-sunshine I really hope that I could do your request justice. 🙏🏼 I loved to write it and tried to give my absolute best. 🧡

EoH Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Ya sure 'bout that?" Your husband asked with a tinge of concern and fear in his voice. "Ya really wanna come?" You gave him a smile and stepped closer; invading his space. "Positive. I am drop-dead serious about it," you announced and raised your hands to his chest; adjusting the lapels of his angel-winged vest. "I absolutely hate it when you're away and I'm alone in Alexandria... Especially now..." Your gaze fell onto your yet small baby bump; Daryl's blue-greyish eyes following.

He couldn't suppress the soft smile on his lips, neither the quickening of his heartbeat. The man who had lost more in his whole life than he had won, had still a hard time to believe that he actually wasn't dreaming. That this was real. You. The 'wedding band' around your ring finger. The life he was granted to spend with you. Or hence, the new life growing inside you. Him, becoming a father. It was too good to be true. Daryl had to pinch himself on a regular basis, and still questioned himself how a man like him deserved something so precious. Luckily, you were always here to erase the bad thoughts ghosting through his mind... And to remember him how valuable he was to you - and to all the people around you whom you called family.

"A'right. 'M gonna take ya with me to the Sanctuary. Yer maybe right. Best way ta protect ya 's keepin' ya close to me I s'ppose," he agreed in the end and leaned forward to bestow a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled. "Thank you so much, baby. You won't regret it, I swear."

"I know, sunshine," he finally answered; his voice huskily with emotion. From the both hands resting on your hips traveled one to the front of your body; gently cupping the bump which was his child. "But 'm not sure..." You pouted. "Please, Dar... I don't want to miss you... And we both know I'd be the safest within your presence."

The archer chewed on the inside of his bottom lip for a long moment; contemplating his next words.

Oh, how wrong the both were going to be...

Barely two days later, you and Daryl made your way to the Sanctuary. Not on his bike, though. The archer had made that clear the moment you and him left the basement apartment you called home. "Hell nah. We ain't takin' the bike. 'S outta question. 'Specially in yer condition," your husband had said, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile. Sure, you understood him and got his point, but you were also aware that this wasn't a 'condition'. You were pregnant. Not sick. And besides, not even that far along. About four months was Siddiq's guess.

Of course, you hadn't even tried to reason with the archer; knowing already that you'd fight a battle you couldn't win. So, you had followed him without a word to one of Alexandria's cars - certainly not horse; Daryl would rather walk than riding on a horseback, even if it would take him days to get to his destination on foot - and were now comfortably seated in the passenger seat. Daryl steered the car to the place you actually still despised deep down in your heart; not having forgotten the things Negan and the Saviors had done. What they had taken and almost took from you.

A few former Saviors were out and about. Most of them tending to the crops and other things planted in the makeshift gardens. The lot of them greeted you and Daryl with respect; some even gave a smile, but others... If looks could kill. The coldness and hate in theirs eyes sent a shiver down your spine. Of course you knew that some Saviors didn't quite... appreciate the mercy you showed them, neither the things you did for them. They were still hanging on to Negan. Daryl knew as well - and he didn't tolerate them. Unfortunately, he had to. At the end of the day, he bent and listened to his brother; being faithful and loyal.

You passed by lots of beautiful places on your way; proofs that mother nature had taken back what belonged to her. But you also saw a lot of rotting corpses trudging and staggering down the abandoned streets, meadows and woods. Life and death battling over the world domination. Nobody would've seen it coming that the line between decay and reincarnation was going to be that thin at some point - and here we were.

"Ya a'right, sunshine?" Daryl's deep, but comforting and definitely slightly worried voice urged suddenly to your ears. You blinked and tried to refocus again. You didn't notice that you had your head in the clouds; lost in thoughts. Neither did you notice that Daryl had parked and turned off the engine of the car. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sorry. Just spaced out a bit." Daryl nodded and gave you a last look, before he opened the car door and moved to get out of his seat. "C'mon. We're here."

It was strange to be back at the Sanctuary. Only the mere look at the huge, old factory caused an uneasy feeling to spread within your stomach. And you could tell that Daryl wasn't quite at ease either. How could he? After all he had to go through here... After all the traumatizing experiences...

"Daryl." A blond woman approached the two of you. Your eyes scanned her face; realizing that you knew her. Laura - if you remembered correctly. The archer jutted his chin into her direction; silently addressing her. The both of them started to talk. Something about the crops and an incident with a 'living' walker as a scarecrow. You didn't pay fully attention to your husband and the former Savior, since you could clearly feel a pair of eyes on you. In search for them, you looked to your left; meeting eyes with a man. Tall, longer black hair and a beard. He was quite a few yards away from you but you could clearly tell that he was the one watching you.

You blinked and waved it off. It was most likely 'cause he had never seen you before.

"Let's get our stuff inside. 'S gettin' dark soon." Your husband's voice caused you to redirect your attention. "Yeah..." You nodded; still a bit absentmindedly, and followed Daryl inside the building.

He led you down several corridors, until you reached a spacious room with a bed, attached bathroom and a few other basic things. While Daryl put down his backpack and your bag alongside his beloved crossbow, you sat down on the bed; feeling a dull ache in your feet. "Ya okay, darlin'?" Of course, Daryl noticed immediately. His senses seemed to be even sharper since you told him about the pregnancy. You nodded. "Sure, Dar. Just some swollen feet." He gave you one of those cute, little smiles you adored so much. "Guess yer in for a foot rub tonight then."

It was the fourth day you spent at the Sanctuary. Daryl tried his best to be around you as much as somehow possible, but unfortunately, there was a lot of work to do for the 'leader'. So, you just decided to stay around him. Luckily, you had a few books packed and you'd always find a comfortable seat - no matter where. You just felt safer when your husband was close, and you could tell that it was much appreciated by him that he could throw a watchful eye on you from time to time.

Daryl wasn't the only one who had his eyes on you, though... Day after day, you could feel the unpleasant stare of that man who already had watched you at the day you set foot here... Justin, like you got to know. He didn't let a single opportunity slip to eye you. It was highly uncomfortable and quite confusing. You didn't know why he was doing what he did. It wasn't like you knew each other. You never even had exchanged a single word! Yet he was always looking... And when you'd catch him, he just gave you a little smirk - what didn't make you feel any better.

After day two, you just accepted it and tried to brush it off and ignore it. You didn't dare to confront the man. If you weren't pregnant, you wouldn't have even give it a second thought and walked straight up to your 'stalker', but... You were pregnant and didn't want to risk anything.

And telling Daryl wasn't an option in your eyes either. He was already so occupied and definitely way more on edge now that he was back at this former hellhole. This wouldn't end well; you knew it.

"You gotta come! Reilly and Mark are fighting. They're yelling at each other like kindergartners!" Daryl scoffed. "Dun care. They can handle their shit alone." The Savior standing opposite you frantically shook his head. "Man, if you don't intervene, this is gonna escalate! They're gonna beat each other up - or worse! You know how they are!" The archer groaned and rolled his eyes. Unfortunately was that idiot right. He couldn't let this escalate, even if he didn't care if it did. He had silently promised Rick to keep this place sane and running, so... "Fine," he finally answered, and turned to you. "Ya gonna find the way alone, sunshine?" You nodded, and placed a hand on his chest with a soft smile. "Of course. Go. I'll be waiting for you in bed. I'm tired." Your husband nodded and gave your hip a soft squeeze; an apologizing look on his face. He didn't want to leave you alone - but knew he had to. Turning on his heel, he followed the Savior and vanished around the corner.

"Dixon!" You flinched at the sudden, unanticipated voice of a man echoing down the corridor you and Daryl just walked through. You were actually on your way back to your room; ready to call it a day. Well, apparently not...

The archer stopped and turned; you both witnessing Dean - a Savior, of course, sprint around the corner. "Dixon!" "Wha'?" Daryl snarled in annoyance. He have had enough of that day. All he wanted was to disappear in that room and not leave it - and you, until tomorrow.

"Hello, Y/N."

You sighed and gazed behind you down the empty corridor, as you felt a flutter within your belly. You smiled; placing a palm underneath your baby bump, which was well hidden since you wore way too big, but comfortable clothes from the day you got here. "I know, munchkin. Daddy's gonna be back soon. Let's go to bed. We could both use some sleep," you talked to your unborn baby quietly; the smile never leaving your lips.

Everything was eerily quiet. Well, no wonder. It was quite late and most of the Saviors were already sleep, you reckoned. Hopefully me too, soon, you thought; pushing down the door handle and opening the door to yours and Daryl's room. You switched on the light - thanks to the generators.

An unknown voice suddenly urged to your ears; causing you to flinch and almost stumble right back out of the room again. You spun around to seek out the origin of the voice; finding the man who had watched you for days sitting on that one chair in the corner of the room with a smirk on his face. You swallowed hard.

"Justin, right?" You tried to sound brave, even though you had a very uneasy feeling brewing within your gut. "What are you doing here? Can I, um, help you?"

Justin's smirk widened. "Oh yes, indeed. You can help me... Close the door, love. I wanna talk." You did what he said and slowly closed the door, but your hand kept gripping the handle - just in case.

"I have never see you before," he started. "Surely we both crossed paths before without knowing - blame it to the war." "Most likely, yeah..." You answered. Justin shook his head and let his eyes wander over your body again. You felt like a piece of meat. "You're a true sight for sore eyes, Y/N... What a shame..." You frowned. "Shame?" The black haired man nodded. "It's a shame you have such low standards and waste your time on a man like Dixon. You are his girl, aren't you?" Your frown deepened at his words; feeling anger bubble up inside you.

Just as you wanted to speak up, the Savior cut you off. "Or... Wait... Are you just his little toy? An occasional fuck? God, how pathetic," he laughed to himself. "What do you get in return? Protection? Food? A shelter? Or are you doing it for free? His dick that good?"

Your jaw almost dropped at the foul words leaving Justin's mouth. He definitely went to far. You've had enough. Nobody threw mud at Daryl like that. Nobody. You were not having it.

"I'm his wife! I-" "His wife?" Justin cut you off once more; laughing. "So this is some serious shit, huh? Wow... Never thought a guy like Dixon could pull such a hot girl like you. You're too good for him, you know," the man said with a dramatic sigh and pulled himself up from the chair. With calculated steps, he crossed the room - and the predatory smirk he wore on his lips, made you feel even more uneasy than you already felt. "You certainly deserve..." Justin licked his lips. "...better."

The Saviors eyes widened, "Fucking hell... He... He knocked you up?" and he laughed. "You're dumber than I thought." Justin shook his head; still smiling amused. "We're witnessing the fucking end of this shit show called life," he gestured around himself. "And you don't know better than get pregnant with that asshole's bastard child."

You swallowed hard and took a step back, feeling your back pressing against the door; grip on the handle still painfully tight. "N-No, I don't. Daryl is more than enough. H-He treats me right." "He treats you right?" Justin asked mockingly, "Aww, how cute." and chuckled. "What if I told you that other men could treat you so much better?" He whispered in a low voice and reached out a hand to cup your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

Your heartbeat quickened; pumping adrenaline through your whole body in fear. Your primal instinct to run already knocked against the door to your brain, but another instinct was stronger just yet... Protecting your baby. So, out of instinct, your free arm wrapped around your baby bump, before you could even stop yourself - and it didn't escape Justin's notice, of course. Your well kept secret suddenly wasn't a secret anymore.

The last sentence was the straw that broke the camel's back. Insulting the husband of an expectant mother wasn't wise. But insulting the child of an expectant mother was suicide.

It was the whistle which sealed your fate.

Before the rational part of your brain could intervene, did your palm already collide with Justin's cheek; slapping him hard.

A soft groan of pain left his lips as he stumbled back. His hand immediately rubbing the now stinging skin. "You bitch!" The Savior exclaimed angrily. "Alright, that's enough." Justin stomped back over to you and already reached out his hand to grasp your wrist, but your instincts kicked in again. This time, they told you to run. So, you did.

Quickly opening the door, you stormed outside and wanted to flee - but you unfortunately didn't get far.

Suddenly another Savior appeared in the corridor ahead of you - and you immediately stopped. Frantically turning around and searching reverently for a way to escape, you soon figured out that there was no way out. One man in front of you, Justin coming up behind you. And in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in the same situation like seconds earlier - just that it was way worse now. Pressed against the wall; trying to shield your unborn child from any possible harm and danger. "P-Please, don't p-please..." You begged for mercy, but it was no use. The men just laughed; having you cornered. "Not so brave anymore, are we?" Justin snickered. Tears stung your eyes. "T-The baby, p-please..." You whispered through tears; feeling your knees buckle and almost give in from underneath you. Silently, you prayed to every God and higher force, that Daryl would walk around the corner now.

He didn't.

"Get her. We're gonna make that asshole pay." It was the last thing you heard, before the other man lashed out. You felt a throbbing pain in your skull and within seconds went everything black.

Grumbling in annoyance, Daryl made his way finally back to yours and his quarters. To solve the stupid, boyish conflict between those two primitive idiots took longer than he thought it would. It got him even more tired than he already was. All the archer wanted was to sleep with you safely in his arms.

However, when he reached your shared room he found the door ajar; causing his heart rate to quicken on an instant. Without wasting even a second, he literally stormed in - only to find the room empty and deafeningly quiet.

"Y/N?!" He called out, but didn't receive an answer. "Y/N?!" In a frenzy of panic, Daryl started to search for you. To his sheer horror, he couldn't find you. Fear and the nagging feeling of guilt and failure already eating away at him. He swore to protect you. You felt safe whenever he was around - and now he had failed you; failed to protect you and his unborn child. Whatever happened to you, Daryl could tell that it wasn't something good. This was the Sanctuary, after all. This hellhole was worse than what laid behind the gates.

Nevertheless, he hoped to find you unscathed, and that all of this was just a big misunderstanding.

Of course... He should've think of that. Jed was - among a few others - a Savior, who didn't quite like how things went down. Negan being defeated... Rick's plan to 'convert' them to be better people... Daryl taking over the Sanctuary... It didn't suit their plans. Daryl knew they hated it - and they hated him. So, why wouldn't Jed - or hence, any of them, do something to get at him? And what was the best way to inflict pain to somebody? Exactly. By hurting someone the person loves.

Life didn't treat the archer kind - of course. You were nowhere to be found. Not in the kitchens, the sanitary rooms, nor the common room; his next destination being the gardens.

"Daryl?" A female voice suddenly urged to his ears - not yours, though. So, he simply ignored it. "Daryl?" Laura stepped into his view. She was on watch and saw her visibly distraught 'leader'. "What the hell is wrong? You run around like a mad man. What are you looking for?"

The archer froze in his movements for a moment; breathing labored. "Y/N. Can't find 'er. Somethin' happened to 'er. Someone took 'er. I'm sure 'a it," he spoke in a low, deep voice. Threateningly. "Ya know somethin' I should know?" Eyes full of a anger were staring the Savior woman down. And Laura knew that this wasn't a version of Daryl you wanted to get yourself into a fight with.

"Not really, no, but..." She frowned; seemed to recall something in her memory. "I saw Jed hanging around in the hallway of your room this afternoon." The archer clenched his jaw.

He shouldn't have let you accompany him.

"Daryl?" Laura's voice ripped him out of his thoughts. The archer wanted to answer, but all he saw was red. He stormed off; driven by anger, fear and the urge to protect what was his - the most important one of the few good things in his life.

Without any unnecessary detours, Daryl went straight for Jed's room. Not even blinking, he barged through the door; slamming it shut behind him and causing the Savior, who was just about to get changed for the night to flinch badly. Jed spun around; his eyes landing on Daryl. "What the hell, Dixon?!" He complained; not noticing the hands of the archer, which were curled into fists, nor the rage in his blue-grey eyes. "Fuck off! This isn't your-" Before Jed was even able to finish his sentence, had Daryl already crossed the distance with three big steps and grabbed the Savior by the lapels of his shirt; pinning him against the wall. Sure, Jed was strong - but not as strong as the bulky archer. Plus, the momentum was clearly on Daryl's side, since he had caught him by surprise.

Daryl growled lowly in his throat. It wasn't a warning. It was a threat.

"What-" "Shut yer damn mouth 'n tell me where she is," Daryl growled; accentuating his words with pushing Jed a little harder and caging him entirely between the wall and his broad frame.

The man scoffed and pawed - in vain - at Daryl's bare forearms and the bulging veins and muscles located there; trying to free himself. "What the fuck are you talking about, Dixon?!"

"Ya ain't fuckin' with me, asshole. Ya know exactly what 'm talkin' about." His grip on Jed's shirt lapels tightened. "Where is my wife," Daryl punctuated every single word. The Savior glared into the archer's eyes for a moment, before he scoffed once again. "I have absolutely no clue where your little whore is! Perhaps she ran off and found a better dick than your-" Daryl had enough of the bullshit Jed was giving him. Without even letting him finish his sentence, Daryl pulled him away from the wall and threw him harshly to the hard ground. "Dun'cha dare talk about Y/N like tha'." His voice was deep and quiet, but not lacking with danger. "And now tell me where she is." "I told you, I don't know!" Jed tried to defend himself further, but Daryl knew he lied. He could feel it.

"A'right. Then we gonna do this the hard way," Daryl stated and lunged at Jed; fists connecting with the man's jaw and stomach. Jed fought back, of course, landing a few blows himself. Their bodies hit the floor multiple times. Blood flew, bones cracked and furniture got destroyed and wrecked as both men were fighting for the upper hand. In the end, though, had Daryl clear advantage over Jed. He was the more skilled and stronger fighter, and had the Savior snugly wrapped up in a chokehold. "'M gonna find 'er anyways," Daryl grunted; panting and being out of breath. "'N I dun care 'bout how many of yer assholes I gotta go through. I'll kill every damn one of ya if tha's what's it gonna take," he snarled and tightened his deathly grip around Jed's neck; his biceps bulging. "So, do yerself a damn favor 'n tell me where the hell she is!" "Fuck you!" was all Jed answered. The archer growled once again and squeezed, which caused the man to gasp and flail; helplessly trying to escape.

Only when Jed was on the verge of passing out, did he decide to finally cooperate. "Alright, alright!" He spluttered and choked. "I'm gonna tell you!" Daryl loosened his grip, and Jed frantically gasped for air. "S-She... She's in one... one of t-the cells..." The man coughed; still trying to get air back into his lungs.

The Savior didn't have to say more. Daryl knew what - or well, where he meant. "Try anythin' stupid, I'll kill ya," the crossbow-wielding archer warned Jed and gave him last death glare, before he left him on the floor in his room with bruises already forming on his neck.

This ain't 'bout me, damnit, he reminded himself. I gotta keep my wife 'n baby safe.

A lump formed in Daryl's throat as he made his way to the 'cells'. An area he thought he'd never ever in his life set foot in again. Being back at the Sanctuary was bad enough, but the mere thought of going there was even worse. It caused his stomach to flip. He could've thrown up all over the floor if he had let himself...

It still looked the same like back when he was imprisoned. The same way too squeaky clean floors. The same doors leading into the same rooms. The only difference was the infirmary, which had been moved to another part of the other building. But except that... Everything was the same. Daryl had to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a moment to keep his shit together and save himself from an approaching panic attack. His labored breath, shaky hands and the forming sweat on his skin a clear indicator.

"Y/N?" Daryl whisper-shouted; hoping to be close to you and receive an answer. He didn't. The archer had to go a little further to find you, and now that he was standing in front of one particular room with his heart almost breaking free of his ribcage; getting to know that it was locked as he twisted the door knob, realization dawned on him. Of course they'd lock her up here, Daryl thought as he eyed the way too familiar door. That was a part of the sick game they played.

With another deep breath, Daryl fought against the traumatic thoughts which wanted to push themselves to the forefront of his brain and shoved them aside; locking them away and focusing on you.

Precautionary, he freed his knife from its sheath and sneaked down the corridors; checking every room. After all, he didn't know who or what awaited him. Storming into this blindly wasn't probably the best idea, since he was convinced that Jed didn't do this alone.

Clenching his jaw, he had to fight another panic attack; even going as far to cut himself with the knife in his shaking hand, in the hopes that the pain would redirect the attention of his brain. A small grunt of pain escaped his lips as the red liquid dripped down his arm.

"H-Hello?"

His desperate action got interrupted by a soft, weak voice coming from the other side of the door; causing the archer's knife to clatter to the floor and a relieved, shaky breath to leave his throat.

"Y/N?!"

The answer came promptly.

"O-Oh my gosh, D-Daryl! I-It's locked, a-and I can't move, I-" "I know, sunshine, I know. Dun worry, 'kay? 'M goin' to get ya," he cut you off with the intention to calm you down. Taking a few steps back, he let the anger and rage take over his system once again and stormed forwards. The door might have been locked, but it definitely wasn't the same door like ten years ago. It had aged and got less stable, so when the archer's strong, bulky frame connected with the door, the lock gave in and the door busted open. Sure, it took him three tries and most likely cost him a bruised shoulder, but Daryl couldn't care less.

"C'mon. Let's getcha outta here 'n see a doctor. I ain't takin' any risks." Your husband shifted and gently slid an arm under your knees and around your back. "Hold on to me." You wrapped an arm around his neck, but shook your head. "Y-You don't have to do this, Dar. I can walk." "Nah," he stated, "I'm gonna do this. Yer hurt 'n pregnant." and lifted you carefully up to carry you bridal style. You didn't protest further. Why should you? He got a point after all...

The bright light from the corridor flooded the dark room and helping him to get a better look at you. You sat in the corner on the cold floor of the dark room. Your wrists and ankles were tied together with a thick rope - way too tight as he noticed, since he could see the material already cutting into your delicate skin. Tried blood was on the right side of your head.

Daryl's heart shattered into a million pieces, seeing you like this. Fear and concern coursed through his veins. "Y/N..." he whispered in a hoarse, broken voice and immediately dropped to his knees beside you, quickly freeing you off the too tight ropes, before one hand gently cupped your cheek, while the other found its way to your growing baby bump. "Ya both okay?! Ya hurt?! In pain?!" Tears of sheer relief gathered in your eyes; threatening to fall as you felt the gentle, loving touch of your husband and knowing that he was here with you. That he saved you.

"I-I'm okay... W-We are okay. Thanks to you," you breathed; smiling as tears rolled down your cheeks. It's been probably only hours since you lastly saw Daryl, but what had happened happened. The shock was profound.

The archer's eyes scanned your body thoroughly for any visible injuries. "Wha' 'bout yer head, sunshine?" "N-Nothing that can't be fixed," you stated and gazed deeply into his worried, loving eyes. "I'm s-so glad you found me. I-I was so afraid..." Daryl lowered his head to rest his forehead against yours. Your hands slipped behind his neck; tangling a few chestnut brown strands through your fingers. "Yeah, me too." Daryl's eyes fluttered shut, before his lips caught yours in a lingering, desperate kiss.

"Just Jed 'n Justin?" You nodded against his shoulder. "Justin waited for me in o-our room. He insulted you. S-Said I deserve better a-and..." You trailed off; feeling tears blurry your vision once again - but this time, it wasn't happy tears. "Ya dun have ta tell me, darlin'. Dun wanna pressure ya into talkin' 'a me." You swallowed hard and buried your face further in his shoulder and neck; "I-I want to tell you." inhaling deeply. Daryl's natural scent, mixed with leather and smoke filled your airways and - like always - had that soothing effect on you. "I-I think he was only a hairsbreadth away f-from raping me, but-" "Wha'?!" Daryl instantly cut you off. Every single muscle in his body tensed as he came to an abrupt halt. You could tell. "He didn't, Dar. I-I slapped him a-and tried to flee, but then there was J-Jed."

"Which one of those assholes did tha' to ya? Jed 'n who else?" Daryl asked in a drop-dead serious voice as he slowly made his way with you down the corridor. You swallowed hard; having to recall the horrible memory. "J-Justin."

Justin. One word - one name was enough to get Daryl's blood to a boiling point once again. He and that prick didn't get along from the very start - and this wasn't the first time the archer and Justin got in each other's ways... There had been a lot of situations where either of them was only a second away from beating the other up. Justin was - like Jed - one of those assholes who wanted Negan back. A Savior through and through.

The clattering sound of - most likely dishes urged to yours and Daryl's ears and managed to quickly redirect both your attention.

"'M gonna kill that sonofabitch," Daryl growled lowly under his breath, but you understood him anyway, of course. "Baby-" "Nah. Ya ain't gonna talk me outta this, Y/N," your husband stated firmly, while opening the main door to the building and stepped outside. Meanwhile, the sun had risen; fresh, crispy morning air hitting your bare arms.

"He's going to pay for tha'. He put you 'n our baby into danger. I ain't havin' tha'." "I know, babe, and you're right. He... He has to pay. But Rick's gonna-" "I dun care 'bout wha' Rick's gonna say. This ain't 'bout him. This' 'bout my family. We both know tha' he'd do the same in the end 'n-"

Justin stood a few feet away across from you and Daryl on the yard. What you had heard was indeed dishes breaking; the shards and content laying on the ground in front of the man. It looked like he had been just on his way to bring you some 'breakfast'. But now, the Savior stood frozen to the ground; eyes directed on you and Daryl. Your husband held his gaze, of course, and if looks could kill, Justin would've been dead already. You felt your archer's muscles tense once again, before he gently let you down. "Sit, 'kay? 'N stay there, please," he whispered and jutted his chin at a wooden bench. You did what he said and slowly walked backwards over to sit down; eyes never leaving both men.

The tension was literally cuttable with a knife as Justin and Daryl stared each other down. The archer out of pure hate and the Savior still in shock and in realization at failure of his plan. You knew this was going to escalate. Two 'alpha males' with completely different, but strong intentions.

Daryl knew it, too. It would've escalated someday anyway. For him, it was just sooner than later.

"Fuck," cursed Justin out loud then; awoken from his rigidity - and instantly started to run. Daryl wasn't having this, of course, and sprinted right after Justin. "Fuck, indeed..." You muttered to yourself; feeling your heart rate picking up. You had to fear for your life and the life of your unborn child for hours and now you had to fear for the life of your husband. Mental stress was your current program as it seemed - something not just you felt... You could feel some movement inside your baby bump. "I know, I know... I'm sorry, munchkin... I just hope your daddy knows what he's getting himself into..." Your palm cradled your protruding stomach in an attempt to soothe your antsy 'roommate'.

Meanwhile had Daryl caught up to Justin and tackled him to the concrete ground - where they still were. Fists connected with several body parts; each of them trying to gain the upper hand. Justin was definitely stronger than Jed. The archer had a hard time taking him down and couldn't do so without taking several hits and punches himself. However kept him the anger and adrenaline going, and gave him the strength he needed.

Somehow, they had made their way back to you. You gasped as both men entered your field of view again - just in time to witness Justin's fist colliding with Daryl's jaw, who let out a grunt of pain. Your eyes widened and you were instantly on your feet; breath hitching in your throat. "Daryl!" He had turned his back to you; spitting out some blood and blindly reaching out his arm to signal you to stay where you are. "Nah, stay back! I got it!" He yelled and violently shoved Justin away, as he wanted to deliver another blow.

You took a step back again, but didn't sit down; face full of concern. You wouldn't let him die. That much was certain. You'd intervene before that happened. How, was the part you hadn't figured out just yet...

The fight went on - without mercy. Daryl, you and Justin knew that only one would walk out alive. Neither the archer, nor the Savior intended to stop. Sure, you could stop it, but how were you supposed to do that?

The sound of a cracking bone almost send you into another frenzy - until you saw that it wasn't a bone of your husband's body. It was Justin's. His nose, to be precisely. The man winced in pain; crimson red blood already tripping down his nose and onto his shirt and the ground. Justin was clearly in a daze; stumbling a few steps back. This didn't slip Daryl's notice, of course. He knew that this was the moment. He had to grasp this chance and use it, before it was too late. The archer was well aware that he was hurt, too and didn't know how much longer he was able to hold on. So, without thinking twice, Daryl reached for the other knife in the sheath attached to his rugged jeans, freed the blade, spun around - and slit the Savior's throat in his movement. Your eyes widened to the size of plates; watching the man splutter and helplessly trying to put pressure on the wound, but it was in vain.

The clatter of a knife caused you to avert your eyes and look at your husband, who had sunk to his knees only a few feet away from Justin's now dead body; panting heavily. Your heart immediately screamed at you to look after the man you loved. Not wasting a second, you ran over to the archer; crouching down beside him.

"Daryl?" You cupped his cheeks and gently lifted his head to make him look at you. "Baby?" Heavy, clouded blue eyes gazed into yours. "You okay?" He nodded meekly. A breath of relief left your lips, although you could already see the bruises forming on his face and the dried blood on his lips and chin. Your thumbs caressed the rough, stubbly skin beneath them, before you gently pulled him closer and rested your forehead against his. Daryl sighed; his bloody hands gripping your wrists. "Y/N, 'm sorry, I-"

The bubble you and Daryl had been in bursted. You lifted your head; only now noticing Rick and a lot of other people standing around you. Mostly Saviors. Swallowing hard, you stood up; holding onto Daryl and helping him up as well. "Rick-" You started, but the leader of Alexandria interrupted you; shock, disappointment and anger clearly visible on his face. "You killed 'im? You killed Justin? Why?" You wanted to speak up again, but Daryl leapfrogged you. "'Cause he was a damn asshole, tha's why!" "Daryl, that's not-" "He kidnapped Y/N, Rick! He hurt her! He wanted to rape 'er 'n do god knows what to 'er!" Your husband yelled at his brother. "Wake up, man. We can't change them, Rick. They are wha' they chose ta be... 'N I ain't no longer puttin' my family on risk for this bullshit," Daryl stated firmly and wrapped his arm around your waist; anchoring you to him. "Let's getcha outta here, sunshine."

He didn't get any further. Another voice cut suddenly through the air. Familiar, but unexpected.

"What the hell is goin' on here?"

Rick was way too stunned to speak; could only watch as his best friend guided you across the yard.

Slowly, you slid closer and placed a hand cautiously on his bare back. "D-" "I failed ya." You couldn't even utter his name, before the words spilled from his lips. "I failed ya 'n our kid. Swore ta always protect ya 'n now look wha' happened..." You sighed. Of course... He blamed himself for this. You should've seen it coming. "Dar..." You spoke up again in a hushed voice; sliding even closer to him. One hand found its way around his waist, the other still resting on his upper back. "This wasn't your fault. Please stop blaming yourself. It was Jed and Justin's doing. Not yours," you tried to soothe his raging thoughts of guilt and littered his shoulder blade with tiny kisses.

A few hours, a visit at the infirmary and a shower later, you sat in yours and Daryl's room - still in the Sanctuary; trying to process what happened.

Only the mattress dipping beside you managed to rip you out of your thoughts. Daryl, who had just taken a shower as well sat down on the edge of the bed; muscles tensed and without saying a single word. He hadn't said a lot anyways since the incident. Sure, the archer had never been a man of words, but... You could tell that something was still bothering him.

You, though, stayed awake and watched him sleep with a soft smile on your face; fingers carding through his soft, still damp hair. "I just hope you reconciled with your brother, Mr. Dixon. You both need each other and you damn well know it."

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. 'S my fault, Y/N. Should've protected both 'a ya better." "You are protecting us the best you can, Daryl," you stated firmly; shifting once again to sit beside him. "You risked your life more than once for me. And you did what was right yesterday evening. You did what you had to do. You acted like a leader should act." "But-" "Nu.Uh. No buts," you cut him off and gently placed your lips in on his to keep him from speaking; entangling them in a sweet kiss. "We're right here, okay?" You prompted; taking one of his hands and placing it on your baby bump, while you intertwined the other with yours. "We're right here and we are completely fine." Troubled eyes gazed into yours; his touch never ceasing. "'M sorry," Daryl whispered; voice quivering.

"C'mere." You laid back on the bed and gently tucked at his hand; inviting him to join you. He immediately obliged and melted against your body with his head resting on your chest, while he was holding onto you for dear life. "That's it, baby... Relax. Deep breaths." Your husband followed your words, and found himself drifting off into dreamland at some point. He was just way too exhausted and unable to resist your soothing, comforting touch.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @thevegandarkelf

[rosazoldyckk]

Yandere! Silva X Daughter Reader

⚠️warning⚠️ obsessive thoughts and mentions of death

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Silva Zoldyck, Zeno Zoldyck, Illumi Zoldyck, Milluki Zoldyck

A/N: I DO NOT INTEND FOR THIS CHAPTER TO HAVE ANY RELATIONS TO INCEST!! I'm aware that some things written in this chapter might be mistaken as incest, but I promise I don't intend to make it seem that way.

Of course you can interpret my writing however you want to, I have no issues with that. Just please know I don't write stuff related to incest♡︎♡︎

*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧ 1138 words *.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.:✧*.

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"Didn't I tell you to stop killing these poor butlers, father? How do you expect us to be taken care of if you take your rage out on our servents?" The young Assassin grumbled while putting her hands on her hips. Suddenly, the whole estate went silent. However, the rest of the lower butlers blinked and gulped in hope.

At the edge of the room, the young assassin can be seen. Her long H/C hair that shined under the moonlight can put any woman to shame. Her E/C eyes that they inherited from her father were sharp yet adorable. It could not be denied that with her looks and god-given talent for assassination that the girl belonged to the Zoldyck family.

With their sudden appearance, Silva lowered his guard and relaxed. It could be seen by his face that he adored the presence of his dearest daughter. With a soft tone, he asked, "Y/N, dear, what are you doing here? I thought you were out of the house."

The Lower butlers secretly beg the assassin to spare them from their death. By doing this, not only do they have a higher chance to survive, but they could also continue to contribute in caring for the Head's most adored daughter, Y/N Zoldyck.

One with no common sense would simply assume that Y/N was the glass child of the Zoldyck family, but behind closed doors they couldn't be any more wrong. Y/N was the glue that kept the family together. She was known to be cruel, sadistic, and outstanding in the art of assassination. However, there were people such as her siblings that could see the other side of her. Most of the time, Y/N was a kind and calm individual outside of work. And today just so happened to be a day where she felt generous.

Y/N thought for a bit before shaking her head, "I thought I told you our agreement about killing butlers in the mansion. Their screams can be heard from my room. It would be better if you killed them quickly or just let them free," she sighed as she turned her eyes to the poor butlers that had been severely tortured by electric shock.

Silva on the other hand glared sharply. Although it was subtle, his eyes went smaller, and clenched his hand.

He hated it.

He hated it when HIS daughter ignored him for Illumi.

He despised it when HIS daughter left him alone to play with Kalluto.

He loathed it when HIS daughter was playing video games with Milluki.

He felt sick to his stomach whenever he witnessed HIS daughter braiding Alluka's hair.

He detested it when HIS daughter is 'playing' outside with Killua and his pathetic excuses of friends.

And oh dear god did he want to smash a boulder across his head whenever he saw HIS daughter laughing with her mother and grandfather.

Silva loved his only daughter to death. Every inch of his daughter belonged to him and ONLY him alone. He hated sharing with others, family only being a small exception. If he could, he would lock her in his room and make her look at him and ONLY him alone.

Knowing that the entire family would riot against him if he were to bring harm to the assassin, he buried that plan deep within his heart and continued to be a 'good dad' for her. He forgot the agreement and decided to play it funny so that his daughter could let this case pass.

"I apologize, dear," Silva grumbled with a fake frown. "Unfortunately, these foolish butlers failed their mission and their penalty is nothing but death. I thought it would be great to punish them first but I overlooked an important part,"

Y/N kept her mouth shut and looked at her father. Somehow, Her emotions had stirred up from her father's response. She knew that her father loved her the most out of her brothers. He would remember every word she had said and did not dare to break any promises. Sadly, although she had been feeling generous, today has been a tiring day for her and all she wanted is a good night's rest.

"Just let them free for my sake. I couldn't hear them screaming any longer! Do you know how much their screams had disturbed me from my sleep?! This is a simple agreement and somehow you can't even remember my words. I'm so disappointed in you," Y/N spat in tiredness. As soon as she said that, she quickly turned her back and jumped to her room which is located on the outer side of the fortress.

Silva hid his rage and waved to her daughter's back. "I hope you'll have a nice dream, my sweet Y/N"

Soon after Y/N left the room, the temperature dropped. The butlers shivered as the waited for another wave of electricity to shoot through their bodies, but nothing came. They glanced up at their boss, only to see him with an expressionless face.

Without another word, he allowed the ball of electricity growing on his hand to explode, killing the butlers in an instant. With his eyes full of tenderness, he took a deep breath of air.

"I'll make it up to you, my daughter..."

⁂✧⁂

Zeno sighed tirelessly as he observed his sons actions. "When will he stop with this obsessive behaviour? Those butlers did nothing except make sure Y/N was taken care of, and yet he still killed them? In all my years I've never seen Silva express such madness before."

Illumi sighed in helplessness to his grandfathers words, "Even I'm starting to get a bit bored now, As her beloved eldest brother I must make sure that she is on the path to success. Father doesn't need to get involved when she has me by her side at all times."

"You're right," Milluki replied in annoyance, "Though Y/N is next in line to head the family, seems like dad is a little too eager for her to stay by his side, am I right?" He grumbled as he shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

The 3 of them shared looks of confusion as Silva finally got up to exit his room.

All they could do is wait.

[under-loch-n-key]

Hi everyone. Obviously everyone has seen the news and read the polls and obviously you can tell that we’re likely cooked.

For some reason our country wants to elect the Mango Menace and his gaggle of orange stained goons once again.

I am terrified for myself, my loved ones, my country, our climate, and just everything.

However, I’d like to tell the LGBTQIA+ community these things because I know we are terrified right now.

What happened today, it’s devastating. It angers me too. Some of my closest family voted for that horrible man. I don’t think I can look at them the same way anymore. Especially, when they hold no guilt or remorse about it even after I explained his policies to them. What do I know, I guess.. 🤷🏻‍♂️🙄

However, as a queer, trans man in this little community, I want ALL of the LGBTQIA+ people who will see this post to know that things will be alright. We all have each other. We know we exist here in the states even if none of us have met. We EXIST.

Just because those orange stained dunderheads want to silence us doesn't change the fact that we exist. We do. We always will. Bigotry cannot fight facts and science. We'll always exist. The only time trans people won't exist is when the human race dies out. Even then, we have other animal species that are queer and trans. No matter what, we will always exist in nature. They cannot change that. They cannot take that from us. Do not lose hope. Even though it's really fucking hard not to.

Do not lose it. The fact that you and I exist is a beacon of hope to another trans and queer person. We exist. None of us want to be left here alone. So we must go on. We must continue to exist. Things WILL be okay. I'll always keep fighting and living for you and every one of my trans and queer brothers, sisters, and siblings.

You existing and simply being here is a beacon of hope to me. Someone who has understands how I'm feeling. Someone who is LIKE me but so different at the same time.

In the grand scheme of the universe, we are very small. However, even though it's small, the fact is that it EXISTS. It's so fucking small in this big void of the cosmos but we're here. We're made of similar components as stars, ones that had to die for us to exist.

I like to think of the sky as when humanity was truly equal. When we were just atoms in the big ol' void, ya know? We didn't fight. We didn't give a shit about all of this stuff. We were allll different types of stars and matter. We were all random as hell, but we just WERE. We coexisted peacefully together in the universe.

Now that those stars are dead as a door nail and some dumb fishy bastard decided to get curious and walk on land, we're all human. Humanity fucking sucks ass sometimes but it's also such a beautiful fucking thing. No matter what happens, a part of us will always exist.

Our existence is embedded in the universe. Nothing can change that. So, please keep living. Be safe, but keep living. Always keep fighting. We belong here just like anyone else.

You belong. You are loved. You are cherished. You are noticed by me and other people here. We all understand each other. So keep going. Again, one day we will all have a better tomorrow. I swear to fucking god or whatever the hell is out there, if anything, however it's unlikely, I will ALWAYS keep fighting for you and WITH you.

Every protest l attend. Every petition I sign. Every time I vote. Every time I go to pride. Every time l simply leave my home as I am. I am doing it for you and all of us. Our people WILL have our damn tomorrow. I'm sick of us not having it. I swear to you we will. So, again, please keep going. Keep fighting. Keep living. Exist. Your existence may be a threat to some bigoted fucker but your existence is precious to someone else. Please do not let them take your right to exist away from you. Keep going.

We’ll have a better tomorrow, the one that we deserve eventually, but we just need get through the hard, bumpy, dirty road first.

Again, we will be okay. Everything will be okay. We’ll get through it. Yes, unfortunately, we will likely see suicide rates and hate crime rates go up and that's disgusting and just all types of awful and depressing. It angers me beyond words.

However, we are strong.

We shouldn't have to be strong though.

What we should be and need to be is loved, accepted, warm, fed, have shelter, and are safe.

For now though, we remain strong. You will always have a place here.

You will live. You will not die, hun. I know the thought creeps in and believe me, I understand. Those thoughts creep in for me too, but we must learn to try to control them. If there's anything I know about us trans and queer folk it's that we're strong, feisty, kind, very sexy, and cheeky as hell. So, if we live, we live because it's our damn right and to be spiteful. We do not owe the people who want to harm us our lives. We just don't. We deserve healthcare. We deserve to love and get married.

We deserve to grow old.

You will grow old. You will be able to go on those trips you've always wanted. You will be able to have that cheesy romance you've always wanted, if you are someone who is wanting a relationship.

You'll be able to sit down and watch your favourite movie. Why? Because you stayed. You didn't give up. Ever. We will always exist.

We will ALWAYS live.

Being transgender has existed before humans even walked this earth and it will still exist when all of us book our holy bus tickets and the blessed holy tax collector comes to collect our debted souls. No matter what, we will live on. They can silence us all they want and erase whatever the fuck they want but that doesn't mean that it's the truth. We're HERE.

We've been here since forever ago. Those Cheeto dusted dunderheads cannot change that. Like I told another person here, other animals and even plants are trans and queer! We've always been here. That won't change, hun.

Everything WILL be okay. We'll always survive and live on. Look at how far we've come in these past years. Many of us thought that we'd be gone already but here we are, two trans people typing away in comment sections on an app where middle age men get off to octopus porn and neko ladies in Japanese school girl outfits because men. and welcome to the internet, I guess. Lmao.

Everything will work out on way or another. We'll have our tomorrow, hun. For now, we gotta buckle down because we're in for a bumpy ride but hey, thankfully on bumpy you have those moments where ya hit the bump just right and you're like

"WOAH, HELLO!- mister bump, you better watch yourself, you saucy boy~ You can't be doin' that. You better take me to dinner first." Lmao. Okay, on a more serious note, we just gotta buckle down together and get through this bumpy ass dirt road because after awhile you make it through that rocky dirt road in the woods and come out to feel smooth pavement again. It'll be alright. We just need to band together and make it through. We all are always stronger together. You're not alone, my friends.

You're talkin' to a guy who has the personality of a gay muppet with a big mouth. I'm shocked nothin’ has happened to me yet with my yappy ass screeching and getting over 80+ gay people to start baa-ing like sheep at a bigot at last year's pride event, but that's a wholeeeee different situation.

My point is, we'll be okay. We'll make it through.

You'll survive. You have me. You have everyoneeeee here and on other social forums. Sure, it's not the same as in-person interactions but it's somethin'. It’s better than nothing I guess. If we’ve gotta go stealth mode eventually and make secret groups for us trans and queer folk, then so be it.

Just do whatever you feel you need to do to keep yourselves safe.

We'll have a better tomorrow. We just need to keep pushing through this rough shit. We'll get out of the woods and onto smooth pavement with open skies eventually.

Continue to exist. Fight. Be safe, but live. Live for yourself, fellow trans people, and simply for spite.

Fuck bigots. Not actually though. Like DON'T fuck them. Who knows where they've been. But fuck them. They're not worth your life. Their bigotry is not worth your life. Live because it's your right.

Those guys are all so far up Donald Trump’s ass he fired his doctor and hired his supporters to give him a colonoscopy.

So, live long. Live for love and live for spite, my friends. We'll get through this.

It’s Trump 2: Electric Boogaloo. SPOILER: The first movie sucked too. They even tried to make a third one — Mango Menace Strikes Back! We didn’t want to come to the theatre to see the second one but it was a class field trip that most of America signed for us. So, we’ve allll got no choice but to go on the trip to the cinema.

Anyways, things will be okay. We’ll make it through. We’ll out get it figured out. We always do. We’ll take care of each other. Everything will be alright. 🤙🏼💛⚧️🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️✨

(Sorry for typos and repetitive speech- it’s 4:14 a.m. EST. 😭😭)

[my-debauchery]

Wonder.

idol!haechan × gn!reader

g`fluff

cw`tears(happy), kisses, hugs

wc`0.8k

A/N: constructive criticism is more than welcomed. if you see mistakes in cw, please, let me know.

'do you ever wonder?' haechan asks as he lays his head on your shoulder and pulls you in closer to him. 'wonder about what?'you ask.

you look up at the clock on the bed side table, 03:36. you are laying in bed with haechan, slightly overheating, cause he decided to turn into coala and trap you completely, as well as cocoon both of you in a blanket. he claims you need to warm up after the earlier walk you took and he needs to recharge from you, after a shity day he had. sure you do,both of you. but now you're wondering how are you not melting.

you start to slip in to your slumber when haechan tightens his hug even more. 'things?' he mumbles in to your shoulder. you're slipping again trying to remember what you were talking about. 'so do you?' he whines a bit and you chuckle at his impatience 'i don't know what you talking about' you're quite sleepy, so his question left your mind as quickly as it entered it.

'want to know what I wonder about all the time? to the point that when I talked to doyoung hyung about it and how much it occupies my mind, he genuinely looked concerned, said i might be losing it' haechan says with a smile. you're intrigued, so you whisper 'please, share with a crowd'

'i wonder about you. and me. how we met, how we love each and what our life's will look like in 10,20,30 or 60 years from now. would we have been able to meet if one thing were to be different in our life's? will we be happy? how will our children look like? how am I going to say no when you'll decide to get an ugly little white dog? i don't think we will able to find another daegal, right? what if you get sick and leave me all alone? what if i? how can i? what to do when i let our child eat too many sweets and now they have a stomachache? and you told me not to do that. should we get a place at the cemetery now or later? won't the prices rise? will i cry at our wedding or not? will you? will you let me be buried at your feet like that italian painter? do you ever find me annoying or too much?do y-' you immediately interject 'no, never' he kisses your cheek and moves his lips to your ear and continues in whisper 'do you actually like my friends? as much as i do? my family? does yours like me? are you lying that they do? are you sick and tired of me asking you to cook for me my favorite things again and again? do you yearn for me when I'm gone? as much as i do for you? do you like the smell of my new shampoo? will you marry me? when would be the right time to ask? is there a right time?'

you lay there, frozen as tears are gathering in your eyes, unable to say anything really. nothing that, in your opinion, will be as moving and silly as haechan's waterfall of thoughts. but when you come to realize what his last 3 questions were 'did you just ask me to marry you?' you sit up and look at him. he sits up and looks down to grab your hands, he is blushing. 'i mean...' he can't look you in the eyes, so you ask again 'did you? i mean it's not very romantic, but kind is, you know? i'm not mad.' he looks up at you, eyes twinkling 'really? it's not how i wanted to ask, but i just couldn't stop. you are truly what occupies 99,99% of my mind, the rest is unimportant stuff. so, will you? will you marry me? i know that we can't legally now, but in the future i'll give the grandest wedding you want. for now we can wear matching rings and think of each other as husband and wife. and we can have a celebration with family and friends. how does that sound?'

you look up to stop yourself from crying and when look at him. truly look at him and all that you can see is love. love so overwhelming sometimes you feel you will explode from the happiness that it brings. and yet so calming and stabilizing, it makes you power through the darkest of hours.

'i will. i love so much, i don't need any wedding. as long as we are each other's, we can be happy on our own, there is no need for the world to know.' haechan smiles and pulls you in for a kiss, short and sweet. and then another on the cheek, and the forehead, and left temple , and right temple, till he kissed your face all over and you're both giggling messes. you pull him in for a hug and squeeze as hard as you can, wondering. how are you so lucky to be able to touch the sun and not burn up?

[ralibo14]

TPN Brainrots part 1:

Another TPN manga panel redraw, but this time everyone goes down with me (because it's sad).

Also part one of my 'wonderful' tpn theories and head canons. It'll be long😅. There will be manga spoilers so please, read at your own risk😊.

First character I go through is... Ray.

He is one of the most complicated characters I ever saw (all tpn characters are, tbh). I always thought that people who have photographic memory are so lucky. Ray showed me that it's both a blessing and the curse.

Like in the picture above. You can clearly see that the first 2 kid waving at his direction. It's strange to know that there was a time when the Trio were one of the young kids and not the older ones. My first head canon is that Ray tried to save more kids, not just Emma and Norman when he was younger. When the blond haired boy leaves (first panel) he looks like he is about to cry (also the Trio is around 4 or 6) but when the other kids get 'adopted' Ray keeps his head low most of the frames (I'm convinced that when the second kid left he was already working as Isabella's spy.)

Ray coloration explained:

Purple eyes are self explanatory to me. I started draw him with purple eyes as soon as I found out he is Isabella's son. Purple in the hair and freckles? Well... I'm still very, very convinced that Leslie didn't die (at least not when he left the House). I always think about his situation, like what Norman got into with Lambda. The Ratri-clan is big but they need outsiders, to be soldiers, scientists, etc. And since girls from the Houses can only become Sisters and Moms... maybe some boys can become scientists and soldiers. (I can't believe I'm writing this but think about Andrew🤢... he was 100% not Ratri yet he could become an adult). So by this logic I believe Leslie could grow up too and (because I'm a sucker for happiness) he met Isabella again at some point.

Ray turning away:

On the second frame he is not looking at the girl who is leaving, but to the opposite direction. Why? Notice something else? Yes, Norman is missing too. Gilda has her winter jumper on so I figure Norman got sick again. Ray priorities his friends safety over everything else.

Also notice how Emma and Norman slowly get into the middle of the frame while Mom/Isabella get out of it? Pretty strong metaphor. It's the perfect example of 'Blood related family ≠ real family'. And while I'm a RayEmma shipper (obviously aged up version) I would never forget about Norman. He is as important to Ray as Emma. This Trio sticks together no matter what.

(older manga colouring ⬇️)

Now onto the hearth breaking stuff:

Ray's relationship with Isabella:

This deleted scene with Ray and Ayshe lives rent free in my head. Like there are two people with similar family situations and the one who lived int the middle of nowhere with a demon parent thinks positively about their parent, while the other, who grew up in a comfortable home like space with a human parent, thinks the opposite.

"But to me, she was always a monster"– Ray.

Like ufff... This sentence hits real hard. And it's low-key true from Ray perspective. He studied and read all the books in the House, not because he was interested, but because he had to. Norman is a genius, Emma learns real fast, Ray does everything he can to always get max points on his tests. But he also secretly planning his friends excape. Collects scraps of technology to build the device which makes them able to excape, plans his own 💀 carefully, so no one else will get hurt and on a top of that he is 'spying' for Isabella. Sacrifices people he wanted to protect. I can't imagine that inside panic when he didn't get max scores to that one test. I'm sure he was happy because Norman and Emma got their regular scores, but deep down he felt like he failed.

My head canon here is that Ray always gets nightmares if he is alone or in an unsafe place. And 'thanks' to his perfect memory his nightmares build up from actual memories (like we see that in the Seven Wall Arc). Also he doesn't get sick often but when he does... it's like a memory fuelled fever dream, with hallucinations and etc.

Ray's healing journey starts after the Jailbreak Arc. As soon as Mom is not around anymore, he ever so slowly starts to let down his guard and starts to show more and more emotions. His relationship with Yuugo/Mister is like a greatest archivment in his case. The playful, sarcastic 'arguments' and the way he openly said his opinion on things in front of Yuugo and Lucas. Shows how much he changed and opened up.

Isabella on the other hand... her change of heart and feelings were a mistery almost to the very end. To be honest I hated her most of the time, until the Back to Grace Field Arc. (Older manga colouring again⬇️😅)

Two things in this page which are very important.

1: Ray's guard is up again in no time, when he sees Isabella, while her emotionless mask is cracking. This is the first time we get a little inside of how she really feels about Ray.

2: Flashback of the two most important things that connects them. The song and the way they were forced to sacrifice others to stay alive.

The lullaby is very important, because it's calming and feels very intimate (like a normal parent-child relationship should be).

You also can't convince me otherwise that Ray didn't hummed this lullaby at least once in the B06-32 shelter to help the youngest kids fall asleep.

And now... onto the last picture. Their goodbye.

Saddest part ever! Never forgiving for this decision.

Ray and Isabella were never allowed to talk even two short sentences with each other without any consequences. In the House they had to play their assigned roles. Then they didn't see each other for almost 2 years. Finally they had to save half of the team from getting unalived... And they moment they would have time the last twist happens... leaving us with a sad ending.

Epilogue and Human World Arc...does little to compensate. Although I can't get over the fact that Yuugo's, Conny's and Isabella's 'ghosts' helped Ray found Emma in the Human World.

Speaking of finding Emma. My last head canon for Ray is the following;

When they found out that Emma lost all of her memories from the Demon World. Ray couldn't help himself but whisper a "I wish this happened to me". And everyone looks at him with an understanding smile thinking he blames himself for this... But in reality he really just selfishly thought (only for seconds) that he could forget everything happened on the other side.

Okay. That's all. Sorry for the supper long post and I'm forever thankful if you read through my brainrots 🥰😘. Also let me know if I should cover more characters like this. I'll obviously do Emma and Norman but if there any other characters you want to see please let me know🥰🤩💖.

[neteyamslovrr]

DO YOU LOVE HER - pt 2

summary: after finding out your first love lo'ak had cheated on you with tsireya, you are left to find yourself again. luckily the chief's son is ready to be there along with you

content: 1.2k words, fem!omatikaya reader, angst, negative self talk, depression, hurt comfort

authors note: i'm so sorry i've been so dead here on tumblr!! lifes been getting me buttt her is the awaited pt2. i have a headcanon that na'vi's love hard, so they also get heartbroken hard. so i incorporated that. hope you enjoy babies!!

pt 1

It was like the world went grey after that night. Walking away from Lo’ak with tears falling down your face as sobs so loud even the waves couldn’t silence them echoed out into the night.

How were you meant to live here. Alone, no family, no lover. You couldn’t go back to the marui you shared with the Sully’s. You couldn’t go back to the forest. You were alone.

This feeling didn’t go away. It had been weeks and you were still barely being seen in the open. You moved your stuff into a small marui on the edge of the village, the Sully’s especially Tuk asked why you were moving but you didn’t have the energy to explain it to them. You decided it was Lo’ak’s responsibility.

But the days and nights merged into one. The soft breeze of the wind, you never felt as you stayed hidden away. Your hair was starting to get messy, your eyes having large eyebags below them, your figure frail and weak as you had not attended any communal dinners in weeks.

Concern grew for you immensely in the Sully home, as Lo’ak felt himself be eaten up with guilt. It crawled in and gnawed at his heart every time he looked at the closed curtains of your secluded home.

“Lo’ak…you must talk with her.” Neytiri says, brushing her hands through her son’s hair. She missed your presence dearly. You were another daughter of hers.

“and say what? She does not want apologies.” Lo’ak complained twitching away from Neytiri’s loving touches.

“She has not been out of the house in a very long time…Lo’ak you have to own up to your choices and fix this.” Lo’ak shook his head fiercely.

“I can’t fix this…I can’t fix this at all.”

However, there was someone who was making their way to your marui. Ready to fix this, ready to see you thrive. Sick and tired of your decline.

You heard the shuffle of your closed curtains and groaned at the sudden brightness. “go away.”

“Get up.” You shot up in an instant at the familiar voice.

“Ao’nung?...What are you doing here?” Ao’nung assessed your features. Your sickliness made him feel queasy, you were so pale, so thin. His heart broke just seeing you like this.

“I am the chief’s son, I have a duty to make sure everyone in my clan is doing alright….and I’m worried about you.” The last part of his sentence was said with tenderness, his usually cocky face showing an uttermost care and sincerity.

“…well I’m fine. You can go.” Your voice was as harsh as it could be, it was raspy, raw from all the hysterical cries you had let out.

“We both know you’re not…” Ao’nung stepped closer to you, his rough fingers reaching out to touch your cold shoulder. Both literally and figuratively.

“I don’t want you pity.”

“I don’t pity you…I’m worried about you.” Ao’nung said, crouching down so he could be eye-level with you as you laid in your bed.

“I know you pity me. The brother of the woman my first love cheated on me with. You are probably being tasked to do this. Please just go…I don’t need help.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“I’ve had that said to me before.”

Lo’ak was making his way towards your secluded marui. His palms were sweaty, shaking as he walked. His heart-beated louder in his chest the closer he got to your home. His mind swirled with what to say to you. How he could ever reconcile the bond between you. How you could ever forgive him.

As he reached the entrance of your marui he felt paralysed with fright. He stood at the slighty shut curtain, as he peeked inside.

You were sobbing, lips quivering as your chest heaved up and down. He saw your broken figure the way you were shaking, your incoherent mumbles followed by the aggressive hiccups of your loud cries.

“I just don’t understand why I wasn’t good enough…” You cried out loud, he thought you were crying to yourself, breaking yourself down with your thoughts. But he was wrong.

A soft shush came from inside the tent. As Lo’ak peered closer he noticed a familiar figure, soothing your worked up cries as he patted the back of your head, letting you cry into his chest. Ao’nung

He didn’t know why he felt so sick seeing you cry in another man’s arms. He had no right to feel possessive over you when he had done you so wrong. But maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t fix this. That he had completely lost you, but not only as a lover, but as a friend. Someone who followed him to the ends of the earth.

“You are good enough…don’t talk about yourself like that.” Ao’nung hugged you tightly. It was the first touch, the first sense of comfort you had felt in weeks. Maybe that’s why your walls broke down so first. Crumbling into his outstretched hands. “He was just selfish…it was not you, not you at all.” He comforted, letting your cries deafen him as you continued to shake and shiver in his arms.

Lo’ak felt as if he was going to puke. The reality of his selfishness occurring right in front of him. He had to go. He couldn’t do this. He was too selfish to face his own choices, too scared to realise the truth of what he had done to you.

Ripped you away from the forest, your family, your clan. Only to desert you the moment he found his heart buzzing. He was immature and he would live his life loving in guilt, knowing that he sacrificed your happiness for his own.

So he walked away. His head hung low in shame. As the calls of the happy villagers around him seemed to taunt him. How could anyone rejoice in a time like this? But he did what led him to this problem in the first place. He headed straight to Tsireya for comfort.

Your crying subsided eventually, throat feeling raw as Ao’nung quietly hushed you as he rocked you in his arms.

If you weren’t in a completely vulnerable state you would have already crawled out of his arms and washed off his stench. But right now as you both sat in your bed, as he cradled you in his arms, rocking you back and forth. You felt cared for, for the first time in a long time.

His arms were strong, as he moved the hair out of your face softly, letting you grow sleepy in his embrace.

“you know it’s not your fault. Right?” You frowned, lips tucked into each other as you looked into his deep stare,.

“one day I will…” ao’nung nodded and rocked you both back and forward until your sad whimpers turned into soft snores as he watched you sleep peacefully.

Ao’nung was sure he would beat Lo’ak harder than he had ever been beaten before. No mercy would be given. But right now he focused on the broken girl in his arms, that he was determined to make sure was whole again.

tags: @8resa @ilovejakesullysdick @neteyamsblog @live-laugh-neteyam @reyalvr @trashfox @darkacademictrash @scntfrhs @dreamyescapesfromreality @fanboyluvr @neteyamzmate @neteyamyawne @neteyamssbaby @lixiesbrowniess

thankyou sm for reading!! reblogs + replies so totally appreciated thankyou lovelies <333

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Villain Kenji au - Chapter 1

Mentions of character death

This wasn't happening...it couldn't have been happening...

Kenji Sato...freshly turned 22 years old only two weeks ago. His baseball career was just starting and actually looking good for him. Yeah, it's going to be a long road ahead towards fame but nothing he can't handle.

But this...he can't handle this...

He was just on the phone with his mother who was in the Tokyo airport. She was there and wanted to let Kenji know she made it there safely.

It was a little funny when she accidentally clicked the video call button instead of the regular call button...

"Oh, my apologies ken, you know I'm not good at this technology stuff. But hey, at least you can see me!"

He saw her...he saw her die...

It- It happened so fast it- She didn't even have time to properly react. That...that thing...that scaled demon raised itself from out of the water and trudged itself toward the water.

It was unprovoked...yet it used violence in its wake on innocent bystanders. What could have possibly set it off? Kenji didn't know...all he heard was a roar on the other side of the phone and saw his mother look up in fear.

The last thing he saw was her frightened face before the phone fell to the ground.

He screamed her name at the phone, hoping, wishing for any sign of life...but nothing. The screen was black, so her phone was more than likely broken.

Kenji fell to his knees and dropped his phone...a lump was in his throat. He can't breathe and his heart was stop going at a million miles an hour

This...this is a joke; it has to be a joke...a sick joke...but his mother would never play a prank like this...

Kenji's voice was hoarse as he felt numb...was it the shock? He wanted to cry but something was stopping him

"Mama...please...be alive"

30 thousand people died that day...including Emiko Sato.

The funeral was heart breaking...He was quiet and numb for quite some time...only crying when he was in the safety of his room. And it wasn't many people there at the funeral.

Emiko cut off most of her family due to the toxicity she grew up with so the only people who showed up were her childhood best friends. They all gave him their condolences, but their words fell on numb ears.

One parent absent and the other six feet under...doesn't really do well on a guy's mental health. He constantly wishes he was there to save her. He constantly has nightmares about that day, some where he's holding her corpse...begging her to wake up.

Kenji didn't send out a funeral invite to his father because he was too infuriated at the mere thought of doing so.

"He should've been there...he has the suit for fuck's sake, and he couldn't save her?!...no...no, he can burn in hell for all I care!"

Hayao tried to call him, voicemail after voicemail, text after text. Kenji blocked him entirely. The final straw was the last email...

"Kenji...Kenji please, your mother isn't answering my calls and...I- I need your help. M- My body...I- it's giving out on me; I don't think I can fight much longer. I sent you a copy of the Ultraman suit...please Kenji...I need you to help"

The audacity...the sheer audacity of this fucker was immaculate. Ignore the existence of your son and wife since he was six years old and now you want his help? IS HE FUCKING SERIOUS?!

No...no, no, no...FUCK NO!

Kenji searched for his father's number and dialed it, waiting for an answer...he picked up. Ken laid down everything he felt for the past 17 years onto his father.

"You left me and mom to fend for ourselves, you left mom alone to raise me by HERSELF! You've only ever called ONCE on my birthday and never even called on mom's. You don't care...YOU'VE FUCKING NEVER CARED! And... when mom needed you the most...you let her die..."

"W- What" Hayao didn't understand...what did he mean by that?!

"Oh...I forgot to tell you...mom is dead...your WIFE is dead..."

Those words hurt kenji badly...his heart clenched at the memory. The memory plagued his thoughts and dreams since the incident.

Before Hayao could even reply Kenji threw his phone at the wall and fell to his knees. Angry and sad tears fell down his cheeks as he sobbed.

His fists punched at the ground ferociously. His ai assistant, Mina, used her robotic arms to hold him back so he wouldn't hurt himself further.

"Kenji, this isn't a good coping mechanism, you need to calm down!"

"FUCK. OFF!"

The young man screamed and thrashed about to get out of the robot's grasp. She didn't let him go and held onto him tightly until he calmed down.

After about 20 more minutes of his fury, he calmed down a bit and Mina took him too his room. She laid him down on his bed and he just...laid there. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to fight back..

"Get some rest Kenji...you need it"

The following days were like a haze for him. He was technically in and out of reality at this point. A week went by, and something came in the mail.

...The ultraman suit...the symbol that was the bane of his existence.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Kenji was actually in tune with reality enough to open the box and pull it out. Just seeing it caused a violent reaction as he tried to rip it, burn it, doing anything he could to destroy it but...nothing worked.

It was like Edna Mode made it or something!

Kenji was out of breath as the thing was in his hands. His fingers gripping it tightly.

Ken didn't want to be Ultraman, just to spite his father. Not only that, but Kenji would swallow glass before he would attempt to fight a Kaiju or Kindly move it away from where it was causing terror.

To be honest...he just wanted to rip those things apart, limb from limb, organ from organ. To slice, cut, and tear every fiber of them to shreds with his bare hands.

Kenji was going to throw the suit into the ocean, but a thought crossed his mind. The KDF. They were known to have more permanent ways of getting rid of Kaiju's...

And from what he could remember, His father hated the KDF ever sense they became a thing.

Then it clicked...and a bone chilling smile came upon Kenji's face...

"I'll be Ultraman for you dad...just. for. you"

This is the story of Kenji Sato...a man who's going to fall far from grace...and into the pits of insanity.

@jaidenk-nox FINALLLYYY MADE IIIIT! (Ik it's short, I sorry for that tho)

[jakeyzzz]

I'll be here

requested by an anon !♡

(fluff/angst) - { hurt - comfort } heeseung x f!reader oneshot

masterlist ♡

⚠️♡ warnings - ( reader's parents fighting, screaming, arguments, sadness, depression, swearing, running away, sneaking out, crying, mentions of feeling alone, comfort, cuddling, hugging, kissing, heeseung being the most amazing human being ever - ) ♡⚠️

!! please let me know if I missed anything 🌻

!!! english is NOT my first language so please be nice

♡ 1,4k words

...

Emptiness. That's the only Word that could ever describe the Way you felt when you opened your Eyes in the Morning after hearing your Parents constantly screaming at each other in the Kitchen for the whole Night. You felt weak, scared and maybe even a little angry. You didn't know what the Fight was about. But to be honest ... you didn't even really wanted to know. You've already had enough to worry about, since you've been kind of depressed. But your Parents never listened to you. They just always acted like they didn't care when you told them about your Problems and Fears. They made you feel alone, and sometimes even unwanted. And that made you wish your Parents were more loving, and especially caring .

When you heard them arguing again right after you woke up, you just wanted to scream into your Pillow. You could've sworn that you heard Glass shattering on the Floor from the Kitchen, which made you flinch slightly. You were sick and tired of their shit, and you just wanted to leave. You just started sobbing into your Pillow, trying to think of a Way to get out of here. You just couldn't do this anymore. But where the hell were you supposed to go ? You didn't have many Friends, and the rest of your Family lived far away from where you lived. You were basically alone.

But then, one specific Person popped into your Head.   Lee Heeseung.  He has helped you a lot of Times before. He picked you up after your Parents left you in the middle of a random Street at night after a big Argument, and let you stay at his house for over a Week. He also got into a pretty big Fight with your Parents for you before, and basically saved your ass with that. That Boy was basically your personal guardian Angel. He protected you. And whenever you were with him, you felt safe. He gave you, what your Parents were never able to give you. Comfort and Safety.

So you didn't even think twice, before finally dialing his Number. And only after a few Seconds, he picked up. ,, Y/N? Are you alright ?'' Hearing his soothing Voice made you smile softly, even though you were still crying. He heard you sniffling through the Phone. You shook your Head, even though he couldn't even see it. ,, Actually, i'm not alright. I really need to get out of here, Heeseung. I was wondering, If i could come to your house and stay over for a few Days . I don't wanna bother you though'' You mumbled through your Tears. ,,No, please come over. You know you're always welcome. I'll be right here waiting for you.'' Heeseung answered with no hesitation. He sounded worried. ,,Thank you, Heeseung. I promise I'll make it up to you some Day'' You said, wiping your Nose before hanging up to pack your Stuff. You grabbed your Backpack from the Corner of your Room and stuffed everything you'll need for the next few Days inside of it.

You packed some Clothes, your Toothbrush, your Phone, your Makeup and some other Stuff you thought you might need. And when you were done with that, you threw on a Hoodie and made your Way out of your Room. You quickly ran down the Stairs, before taking a last glance at your Parents in the Kitchen. They were still fighting. And they didn't even notice you standing there, which made your Heart clench and your Eyes fill with Tears once again. So you quickly turned around, and eventually left your House.

You hugged yourself the entire time on the Way to Heeseung's House, trying to get some warmth. And you cried. You cried so much. You didn't want anyone to see you cry though, which made you walk faster as you tried to hide your Face as good as possible. You felt pathetic. But you knew it was okay to cry ... Heeseung taught you that a while ago. And only a few Minutes later, you finally arrived at his House.

You softly knocked on his Front Door, before waiting for him to open the Door. And after a few Seconds, he finally did. He looked at your Tear stained Face in worry, before quickly pulling you into a tight hug. He softly caressed your Back, as he let you sob into his Chest. ,,It's okay Angel, you're safe in my Arms. '' Heeseung carefully kissed your Head, before pulling you inside of his House. He realized your Hands were Ice cold, as he took you to his Room. He took your Backpack, before making you sit down on his Bed.

He eventually ended up giving you a Blanket, so you could stop freezing. And right after that, he sat down next to you. You looked so exhausted and it was so hard to look at. ,,I think it was my fault they got into that Argument. You know, there's that Voice inside my Head that keeps telling me I'm the Problem'' You said, biting your Lip to stop yourself from crying. Heeseung furrowed his Eyebrows as he shook his Head. ,, Don't listen to that Voice, Y/N. Listen to my Voice. I'm so sorry I can't take the Pain away from you but I need you to know, that you were never the Problem. And i'm here for you. I'm never gonna leave.'' Heeseung said,making you look at him as another Tear ran down your Cheek. You forced a soft smile on your Face. ,,How long can I stay here?'' Heeseung softly smiled. ,,You can stay for as long as you need.'' He said.

You loved Heeseung so much. He was exactly what you needed in the Moment, and he chose the perfect Words to make you feel better. And what he did next, made your Heart flutter. He hesitantly lowered his Head, before softly kissing the Tears away from your Cheeks. You closed your Eyes at his gentle Touch. You've never felt so loved by anyone. And even though Heeseung never told you he loved you, you could feel it. ,,I'm glad you're here.'' He whispered between his feathery kisses. ,,No one's ever done this to me before'' You stated, making Heeseung look at you with a soft Smile on his Lips. You looked at Heeseung, as he put a thick strand of Hair behind your Ear. ,,Can I try something?'' Heeseung softly nodded his Head at your Question.

You nervously cupped his Cheek with your Hand, looking into his Eyes before taking a quick glance at his Lips, making Heeseung giggle quietly. And then you finally leaned in, pulling Heeseung into a soft Kiss. The Kiss started off soft and gentle, but eventually got more passionate and heated, making Heeseung break the Kiss quickly. ,,Can you promise me not to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable ? If it gets too much, please pull away'' You nodded your Head,resting your Forehead against his before Heeseung pulled you into another deep Kiss.

He touched you so beautifully, you could feel how much love he had for you. ,,I've been wanting to kiss you for a while'' You murmured against his Lips,making him smile against yours. You pulled away before giving him one last peck on his beautiful, plump Lips. Heeseung pulled you onto his Lap, before wrapping his Arms around your Waist as you wrapped yours around his Neck. ,,So...you've never kissed anyone before?'' You shook your Head at his Question. ,,Nope , never.'' Heeseung hid his Face in the Crook of your Neck. ,,Well, can I get another Kiss?'' Heeseung mumbled into your Neck,making you chuckle. ,,You're lucky I love kissing you'' You said, making Heeseung look at you again to press a soft Kiss on your Lips. ,,I love you Y/N, and I'll do anything to protect you. I'd even risk my life for you'' You looked at him in adoration, stroking his Cheek softly. ,,You're a Gift sent from Heaven, Hee. I love you too''

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Bachelor/Clavell/Wan (?)

One day, early in the evening. We're with the Bachelors, well, what's left of the family. To everyone's regret, the family is no longer complete. The parents of the two children died in the disaster. Now Xander is looking after them. He has also lost his parents and so they have joined forces in order to survive.

"uh, oh man, I'm so hungry"/ "Uncle Xander will hopefully be back soon"/ "yes, hopefully ".

While waiting for dinner at home, Michael and Xander are on the lookout for all kinds of edible things to bring home. "Man, sometimes I get the feeling that the others have already snapped up all the stuff"/ "by no means everything, check the garbage can to see if you can find anything useful there"…. Of course it's an unpleasant thing to rummage around in a garbage can for useful things, but what don't you do to improve your standard of living a bit?

A few minutes later. "Why didn't you tell me straight away that something edible was growing behind the house?"/ "I'm sorry. Look, The lettuce has grown so beautifully. I believe that the spirit of Mama lives in every single plant. She gives us food and looks after us"/ "Yes, that's how it will be… And again, it's just a salad today… Oh, what I would give for a delicious sausage"

A little later. "Did you get anything?"/ "Heads of lettuce, lots of them". Pauline wrinkled her nose and threw her head back in annoyance. "oh man, I'm getting sick of all this green stuff"/ "well, maybe something can be done, I saw the boss bringing a few boxes to the back of the warehouse today, it looked like canned food"/ "W-what?". Her eyes widened.

"Yeah, I don't know where he got the stuff, but I'll find out"/ "yes, please, if they withhold anything from us, I'll get really angry. I'll make us something to eat now… Wow, salad… at least there are still a few onions and tomatoes growing in the garden". Pauline stood annoyed at the kitchen counter and prepared the food.

"Are you otherwise well?"/ "Sure, since i'm with you, hn". Pauline is leading a double life at the moment. And that's why she's not always honest. She not only shares a bed with Xander, but also with Hank, with whom the relationship is nevertheless difficult. The official story is that they have broken up. But Pauline has a mind of her own. "Hank and I … That probably wouldn't have worked out in the long run and besides, I really wanted to know who the guy was that he was always talking about when he came home from work …"/ "You've got a thing for bad boys?"/ "hnhn, not really, but you're … Just different, and I like that.".

Bella comes back into the house. "Where have you been?"/ "I just had to pee"/ "Let me know next time, okay? I don't want you to be out alone in the dark"/ "but I don't want anyone watching"/ "nobody's done that before, we've always stood in front of the fence"/ "but you can hear the peeing noise"/ "Oh nonsense, come on, Pauline's made salad"

"Salad… Always just salad. Can't we bake a cake again?"/ "We need eggs for that, and they're a bit scarce at the moment because we don't have enough chickens"/ "Then you'll have to get a rooster to make the chicks"/ "Oh, you know that?"/ "Of course, that's what… Mom told me".

Michael had to smile a little. "Yes, Mom knew a lot…". It's often a difficult situation for Xander when the children talk about their parents. Because it's not just them who have lost their parents, he has too. Until now, there has never been a proper funeral or memorial service for the deceased. Everyone had to deal with the new situation from one day to the next. But some of the residents want to take care of the cemetery soon.

"And please take care of this 'matter' tomorrow, okay? I really want to know what's going on…"/ "Don't worry, I'll find out what the Altos are up to. "/ "They lead a much better life than some of the others here. They have running water, electricity. They should finally support us. I bet they have some kind of contact with the outside world"/ "mhm, for sure".

Since Pauline has been living in the house, the atmosphere here has changed. So far, they've managed quite well without another roommate. And of course Michael also understands that you need someone to talk to… But at the moment it's probably just about exchanging bodily fluids. No one will ever be able to properly replace the parents of the two children. But they are being looked after.

The kids go to bed. "hey, this is actually my bed"/ "but it's much cooler than mine, you built it all by yourself, mine is old"/ "but it's still in good shape…fine, then I'll be the princess tonight"/ "thihi… Which book did you get from the shelf?"/ "You'll notice in a minute".

While Michael reads his sister a bedtime story, the adults next door are busy with other things. "Have you taken the pill?"/ "That's the last pack I could get, after that we should be really careful"/ "Why, don't you want children?"/ "Under the current circumstances? No…".

While Michael reads his sister a bedtime story, the adults next door are busy with other things. "Have you taken the pill?"/ "That's the last pack I could get, after that we should be really careful"/ "Why, don't you want children?"/ "Under the current circumstances? No…".

"well, if need be, I can pull 'him' out early"/ "chuckle, but that doesn't always help"/ "I'd say we just take our chances… I'll take care of it, bunny".

Less than 20 minutes later. "Sleep well, sis… At some point… Hopefully everything will be a bit more normal again. My friends are all madly in love… great, and I'll probably stay a virgin until I'm 30…". It's not easy for Michael to put up with the other couples' affections. Everyone here has their own individual needs.

End of this part

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

@greenplumbboblover 😊 , Thanks for tagging me, by the way. Unfortunately, I find it infinitely difficult to pick out a sim and write facts about it. I like them all very much.^^ But if I do come up with something about someone at some point, I'll let you and others know😊

Note: I know some parts are quite long and contain a lot of text, but they can't be split up any other way and I like to write a lot 😉

[astrronomemes]

PINK: MISUNDERSTOOD STARTERS (PART I)

a collection of lyrics from Pink's Misunderstood album. change & alter as needed.

"I might be the way everybody likes to say."

"I know what you're thinking about me."

"Everything I want, I always do."

"Well, I'm happy, and I'm sad, but everything's good."

"It's not that complicated."

"I'm just misunderstood."

"I just might say goodbye."

"I'm really proud of all the things I used to do."

"I was taken for granted, but it's all good."

"I never win first place."

"My parents hated me."

"I can't do nothing right."

"Every day, I fight a war against the mirror. I can't take the person staring back at me."

"I'm a hazard to myself."

"I'm my own worst enemy."

"It's bad when you annoy yourself."

"I want to be somebody else."

"All you have to change is everything you are."

"She's so pretty. That just ain't me."

"Won't you please prescribe me something?"

"I think I took too much."

"What have you done?"

"I thought it would be fun."

"I think I'll get out of here."

"You're just like a pill. Instead of making me better, you keep making me ill."

"I haven't moved from the spot where you left me."

"This must be a bad trip."

"Maybe I should get some help."

"Everybody is waiting for me to arrive."

"I can go for miles, if you know what I mean."

"I'll be burning rubber. You'll be kissing my ass."

"Everybody's dancing, and they're dancing for me."

"I get really sick and tired of boys up in my face."

"Pick-up lines like what's your sign? won't get you anyplace."

"So, Mr. Big Stuff, who do you think you are?"

"Nothing good comes for free."

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall... damn, I sure look fine."

"I can't blame those horny boys. I would make me mine."

"Back up, boy, I ain't your toy, or your piece of ass."

"Give it up. He won't call you."

"Respect is just the minimum. Go on, girl, and get you some."

"You can't keep me down."

"Hey, hey, man, what's your problem?"

"You don't know what you're up against."

"Maybe you should reconsider, come up with another plan."

"You know I'm not that kind of girl."

"You can push me out the window. I'll just get back up."

"Are you ready for today?"

"You are beautiful, even though you're not for sure."

"You're gonna get your feelings hurt."

"I am only this way because of what you have made me."

"I'm not gonna break."

"[Name], please, stop crying. I can't stand the sound."

"Your pain is painful, and it's tearing me down."

"I told [name] you didn't mean those nasty things you said."

"I don't want love to destroy me like it has done my family."

"Can't we work it out?"

"Can't we be a family?"

"I promise I'll be better."

"[Name], please, stop yelling. I can't stand the sound."

"I don't want to have to split the holidays, I don't want two addresses, I don't want a stepbrother anyways, and I don't want my mom to have to change her last name."

"In our family portrait, we look pretty happy. We look pretty normal. Let's go back to that."

"[Name], don't leave! Turn around, please!"

"The night you left, you took my shining star."

"Don't leave us here alone."

"I'll be so much better! I'll do everything right!"

[lemonyko0]

work over pleasure - kth

in order to have everything, you must first be in a position to lose everything. after divorcing the love of your life, you're already halfway there.

» genre: angst!!!, romance, divorce au, pregnancy.

» word count: 1.8k

work over pleasure - kth

"i'll just send it to you in the mail, don't even think about coming here taehyung or so help me god.” i scold my ex-husband over the phone as he bothers me for the hundredth time this week over something he doesn't need, but insists he does.

it's all just an excuse to come over again. the chance to talk to me in person, to see me, to touch me. i sometimes think he likes to argue for sport, for his own entertainment.

he's plenty aware it's all we do when we see each other yet he's constantly bothering me.

“i'm passing our house on my way to work, why can't i just come get it? you're being ridiculous y/n. can't you stand to face me for a minute?”

i scoff then laugh, “truthfully taehyung? no i can't. and it's my house, not ours. it's in my name and i'm the one paying rent, not you.”

his heavy breathing over the line is all i hear, his telltale sign he's deeply annoyed. “what if i bring your bracelet? can we trade off then?”

the businessman in him shows as he makes a deal he knows i can't refuse. having lapped up my most valuable piece of jewelry ‘by accident’ when he left two months ago.

“fine, just don't be late.”

i can practically see his irritating smirk over the phone, “sure thing baby.”

i simply roll my eyes and end the call, not having the energy to scold him anymore.

i haven't had the energy for anything lately, feeling constantly tired and sore despite doing nothing. i even began getting sick before breakfast every morning, but i had chalked that down to my anxiety over my divorce. a simple coincidence.

a part of me knew the truth deep down, but i couldn't take anymore devastation after dealing with a failed marriage with a man i was still horribly in love with.

taehyung was married to his work, not to me. his loyalty rests in the hands of the company he's so proud of. that's what our divorce was over, and that's what made my situation so much more difficult.

standing alone in what was once my husband and i’s house, with a positive pregnancy test in my hand. everything i was scared of, confirmed with one extra blue line.

i couldn't believe it. i refused to, actually. there was no way. taehyung had made it clear he was too busy to start a family, so we were careful. i knew what was happening to our relationship, i wouldn't have been so stupid.

my heart races as i think of every possible excuse as to why this couldn't possibly be real, until three very loud knocks at my door have my attention pulled elsewhere.

i quickly dry my tears and wash my hands before opening the door to a smug looking taehyung, whose expression falls almost instantly as he sees me.

“why-”

“here's your stuff.” i interrupt him, not wanting an interrogation, or any interaction at all from him. it's his fault after all, why i'm in this mess in the first place.

he takes the box from my hands before digging my bracelet out of his pocket and handing it to me, “here's this, sorry again.”

i nod my head as i take it from his hands. i begin to back away and close the door but he forces it open, “w-wait y/n-”

i scowl at him and whine, “taehyung what do you want from me?”

he grins and steps forward, inviting himself back into his old home, “i smell coffee, and yours is so much better than the stuff we have at work, can you make me a cup please? for old times sake?” he smiles sweetly, knowing i can't turn him down.

i silently step aside, closing the door behind him as he heads straight for the kitchen and i walk slowly behind him.

“love what you've done with the place.” he says to be funny, staring at where our photos used to be, which i replaced with pictures of my dog instead. “you really do love him more than me don't you?”

i scoff, “you love your job more than either of us.”

he gives me a forced grin but doesn't reply. the only noise in the house being the rumbling of the coffee machine as we both eagerly wait for it to finish.

“i'm gonna..” he starts awkwardly, “go to the bathroom.”

i nod, completely zoned out while staring at the coffee.

i grab a cup from the cupboard, pouring it in and dropping in two ice cubes to cool it down. i turn around and place it on the counter he was once leaning against and wait for him to come back.

not a second layer he comes rushing back into the kitchen, looking pale as a ghost. he stares at me, unable to get a single word out.

“what's your problem?” i ask, his expression is almost laughable.

“y-you left something in the bathroom.”

i narrow my eyes at him confusedly, then realizing he may have seen the pregnancy test i had sat on the counter before i opened the door.

“n-no thats not-”

“not yours? you would tell me if you were pregnant right?” he asks while walking towards me. i open my mouth to agree but he interrupts me again, “is it mine? did you already have sex with someone else? i can't believe this.” he runs his hands through his hair as he takes a deep breath in, “what the fuck is happening y/n.”

i stare blankly at the floor. i hadn't gotten this far. i had no idea what i wanted to do about this, i had no idea if i wanted him to be involved at all, i had no idea if he'd even want to be involved.

“i-i just found out.” is all i can safely tell him.

he just sighs, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table but not sitting in it, instead he pulls me over, sitting me down on it before sitting beside me. “it's mine isn't it? i-i mean,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “you didn't hook up with someone this soon right?”

i can't muster up the courage to look him in the eyes. unsure of what exactly i was afraid of, possibly the one thing i've always wanted, a real family of my own, being torn away from me so quickly if he tells me he wants nothing to do with this.

“i-it is.” it comes out as a whisper, my voice betraying me before my emotions do, feeling my tears fall again for reasons unbeknownst to me.

“and you just found out? when?”

i look at him for a split second, his expression unreadable as always, “just before you got here.”

“you haven't even been to the doctors yet?” i shake my head. he rises from his seat, grabbing his coffee and phone that were waiting for him on the counter. i start to think maybe this was it, he was finally leaving.

that is until his hand is out in front of me, asking me to take it. i look up at him and he tilts his head, “let's go.”

i take his hand and let him lead me towards the door, putting on my coat for me, “go where?”

he just chuckles, “to the doctors, i want to make sure my baby is healthy.” his behavior confuses me deeply but i let him continue regardless, helping me slip my shoes on as he pauses before opening the door again, “you included, y/n.”

he takes notice of my deeply muddled expression and stops what he's doing. he grabs my hands and looks me in the eyes, attempting to portray his sincerity before he's even spoke, “you don't have to take me back, but if you're gonna go through with this, i can't let you do it alone. even if all you do is yell at me and call me names the whole time, i'll take it all.” he pauses, and i can tell he's struggling to express himself.

“you don't have to taehyung.” i tell him.

“i love you more than anything y/n, i know you don't believe that, you always tell me i'm married to my work and i admit i put it first before you, and i'm sincerely sorry for making you feel ignored and unloved, but i've been trying to tell you this and prove it to you ever since you told me you wanted a divorce. i did it because i want to be able to spoil you and our children, but i went overboard with it and it costed me the greatest thing to ever happen to me in my entire life, so please, let me make it up to you.”

i stare at him, waiting for him to show any signs of regret or dishonesty but he's confident. he smiles and reaches a hand up to my face to wipe away my tears, “i love you.”

i sniffle and look away, “don't say that now.”

“but i mean it.”

i shake my head, “if i could think rationally right now, i would probably be kicking your balls for putting us in this situation.”

my comment does as it's intended to, making us both laugh aloud and ease the mood. i don't want to be mad anymore. i'm tired of being upset and exhausted all the time. i want my husband back, but not because of this.

“taehyung, i really don't want my child to grow up with parents who can't stand to be around each other, who do nothing but bicker endlessly. that's exactly what i had and i can't bring an innocent child into that environment so all i ask is that you prove you've changed. you stay for me, because you love me and you're sorry.”

"i am! i will, i promise.” he says with no hesitation, stepping closer and leaning down, “c-can i kiss you? please?”

“once.” i tell him, knowing i was way too needy and hormonal to say no to him.

he wastes no time giving me a sweet and short kiss to show his gratitude, pulling away with a stupid smile that makes me laugh.

“if they have your smile we’re in trouble.” i tell him, plenty aware he knows it's my favorite thing about him.

“my cute boxy smile.” he mocks me, “the ladies will be all over him.”

“or her.” i correct, not wanting to call it so soon.

he opens the door and slings an arm around my shoulders, “regardless, i'll love them as much as i love you.”

i eye him, “more, i hope.”

he places a gentle kiss on the top of my head and guides me by my arm as he walks me to the car, “i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

hello and thank you for reading! if u enjoyed i have a masterlist in my description with all of my current works listed and ordered! have a wonderful day <3 - ara :)

masterlist | taglist

[willowfolksong]

I'm not the original requester but the bonten x model reader headcanons were divine✨😩

So I'll take you up on the offer instead and very kindly request the same prompt for the missing tenjiku members! If you'd like to of course <3

Have a great day and don't forget to drink water xx

The Tenjiku guys dating a model

- Tenjiku x Reader

- NSFW (minors dni)

a/n: hiiiiii anon!!! Thank you so much for your words 🥺✨ I'm extremely happy to comply, and so here's part two with the Tenjiku boys. I hope you enjoy and always let me know what you think! Have a day as beautiful as you and always take the rest you deserve ✨❤

Love,

Willow ❄

Requests are open! ❄

[The Bonten guys dating a model]

Izana Kurokawa

💎 Your manager recommends you to keep your relationship with Izana under the radar, reasoning that the least you need is to be associated with the leader of a criminal organization. However, Izana is not having any of that.

💎 He's possessive to a sick degree, always carefully following your every move. Soon you have one of his men as a body guard, and there always seems to be people from Tenjiku around. No one ever directly addresses the issue, but soon magazines and other media start to link you with the famous criminal boss.

💎He hates every interview, every show go, every photoshoot. You're for his eyes only. He owns you, since the first time your eyes met across the club.

💎When you two are along, you never know what to expect. It can be a sweet, gentle loving Izana that worships your body and makes sure you're completely spent by the time the next day comes. He'll make the room your little sanctuary, making love to you slowly, only to hug you after, burying his face in your chest, asking you to hold him. In those rare moments, he'll tell you stories about his siblings, about his childhood and his dreams of one day, maybe, having a family of his own— while his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that makes you believe he would leave everything behind to start a new future with you, if only you asked him to.

💎But the rest of the time, he's ruthless. Pining you to the bed, ass up and nothing but the stinging feeling of his hand on your butt. Izana loves to mark you.

"Izana, please..." you sob, burying your face on the sheets as your boyfriend fucks you violently from behind.

You ache for relief, after all the times he has left you hanging.

But he does it again, stopping all together and pushing his sweaty hair away from his face. You can't see the manic look on his eyes, nor the way he leans over you, his lips so close to your ear.

You can only feel.

"That's not how I told you to call me, whore" he says, and grabs your head to tilt it back with a groan "Try it again"

"Please..."

"You won't cum today, unless you do" he warns you, and his hips give an experimental roll that leaves you huffing, eyes rolling back.

"Please, sir"

Only then does Izana straightens his back, loosely grabbing your hips and licking his bottom lip.

"Now move your hips and make yourself cum on my cock"

Shion Madarame

💎 You meet him at a party in a club. You weren't looking for some fun, you were just there because it was one of your friend's from the agency's birthday. And so bored out of your mind, you lift your eyes and find his across the dancefloor.

💎 He ends up fucking you in the bathroom, your hips bouncing on his lap while he seats in one of the toilets, whispering dirty stuff in your ear.

💎You don't know how he manages to get your number after that— especially since you're a celebrity. But he does. And won't leave you alone until you two meet again.

💎 Your relationship is based on amazing sex, and the power he has to make you feel free. You spend your days being careful, smiling for the cameras and trying to be on your best behavior for your fans. With Shion, you can be anything you want.

💎 He loves dirty talking. Calling you a whore, taunting you, making you lose your composure. You've never had someone degrade you like that— and you love it. With him, you're not the perfect model that appears on magazines, you're nothing but his slut, one that would do anything and everything.

"There you go. Just like that...— fuck, you take my cock like you were meant for it" he groans, his hips moving in tandem with yours.

He has you doubled over the bathroom's counter, and you would smile at the fact that you two have history in places like that, if it wasn't because his cock inside you doesn't lets you think clearly.

"I was made for your cock" you answer instead, moaning loudly, as his fingers dig on the skin of your hips, where there's a little hidden tattoo of a lion he convinced you to have, so you could match.

He laughs, and his eyes find yours in the mirror "Moaning like that... do you want people to hear us?" he asks, and leans forward to grab your chin on his hand, his eyes never leaving yours "Is that what you want? For everyone in the party to hear how I fuck your brains out in the bathroom?"

"Yes!" you scream, and he bites behind your ear. Hard "That's what I want!"

His smirk promises he'll have you moaning even louder sooner.

Yasuhiro Muto

💎 He treats you like a queen from the moment you two meet, and you sometimes even forget you're dealing with an actual criminal.

💎 You feel safe, and protected, and arriving to every place with his arm around your waist is always the best feeling.

💎 He loves to watch you, to see you model and dressed on pretty clothes. And one day, he confesses to you in bed that he always found you incredibly beautiful.

💎When you finally convince him to go with you to a photoshoot, he spends the whole two hours staring straight at you, eyes never leaving your face. Yasuhiro doesn't moves from his spot on the couch by the corner, and his eyes bore into yours every time you turn around and smile for the picture— but in reality is just for him. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, his arms on the back of the couch, you can only think about crawling to his lap.

💎He makes love to you slowly, and passionate, making sure to tend to all your needs. His favorite thing in he world is having you between his legs, sucking him off, while he promises to take care of you right after.

"Right there, good girl" he praises you, grabbing the back of your neck in one hand and pushing you closer to the base of his cock. You look at him, teary eyed and flushed all the way down to your niples, and he sighs contentedly, leaning his back against the chair "You always suck me off so good. Just there, just— yeah... suck on the tip"

When you do, putting all your effort into it, he groans and hosts you up, sitting you on his lap.

"What's wrong?" you ask him, and he traces your bottom lip with his finger before sliding his other hand down to play with your nipples.

"Is my turn to take care of you now"

Kisaki Tetta

💎You're not sure if Kisaki is even capable of actually loving someone, but you just can't stay away from him.

💎 He pulls you, draws you towards him with his words and his charm. He always seems to know what you want to hear, and when.

💎You don't know about love, but you're sure that he has developed a slight obsession with you.

💎 He tries to keep you away from your friends the most, and he dislikes when you go to other celebrities parties and events. You have a feeling that deep down he's incredibly insecure, borderline neurotic, because he wants to be the only one you pay attention to.

💎 He never denies disliking what you do, always finding time to tell you how much he hates that you're in every billboard around the city, while he's buried deep inside you.

"Do you like that?" he asks you, even when you can't answer with his hand covering your mouth. "Do you like being up there, for everyone to see it? Do you get off on that?" you're going to shake your head no, but then his hips are moving faster against yours, and your eyes roll to the back of your head in ecstasy. "One day...— fuck... one day I'm going to make sure they all se who's the one you come back every night"

Hajime Kokonoi

💎Hajime is incredibly reluctant to get involved with you at first, because of his past and everything that happened with Akane.

💎 You still manage to crawl inside his chest and stay there, and when he finds himself looking for any picture he can of yours in magazines he doesn't even reads, or watching shows he wouldn't before just to see if you're on them, he knows he's a goner.

💎 His attentions start slow, measured and content. He tries to think about you the less possible, only calling to see you when he just cant stand being apart from you any longer.

💎However, that soon changes. When he falls, he falls hard, and is sudenly faced with the terrible feeling that he could lose you at any moment— celebrities having such a high exposure life.

💎 He won't let that happen to you. He won't lose the love of his life again, and so he makes his personal goal to always keep you safe.

"I won't lose you" he whispers in your ear, once you're asleep in his arms after an intense lovemaking session "I won't lose you. Not you. That won't happen again. You're never leaving my side"

Shuji Hanma

💎You're the only thing he doesn't thinks he could get bored of.

💎 He yearns for you in a way he never did for anyone, and it doesn't help the fact that he can see your face everywhere: every poster, every magazine, every billboard on the street.

💎 And so he's usually pleasuring himself, a crumpled picture of you modeling some pretty clothes in his free hand, because the urge can become just too much, and he just can't wait enough to see you.

💎 He fucks you at a frenzy, wild rhythm that always leaves you exhausted and sore all over. And you know he's especially enthusiastic after a fight, when he comes to you covered in blood and his eyes are full of fire. Those are the times where he takes you the hardest, your loud moans only music to his ears.

💎And then always after, he falls into your arms with ease, content with closing his eyes and basking in the smell of your hair.

"I want to stay in this bed forever" he tells you, and you smile and pet his hair.

"Really?"

"I have you here. I can fuck you whenever I want. What more do I even want? We just need someone to do stuff for us. Bring food an stuff"

You silence him with a kiss, and soon he's pining you on the bed again.

[this-is-ally-and-im-confused]

Happy Valentine’s! You’re absolutely amazing for doing this! 💛💛💛

May I please get a letter from Quinn Hughes? I don’t have anything specific in mind expect that Quinn and reader can’t physically spend valentines together for whatever reason. I’m such a sucker for handwritten letters (even though I know this is typed, same diff). The rest is up to you. I know you’ll do this justice.

Please and thank you! You’re absolutely incredible

awww thanks m! here ya go.

Hi babe, It’s Q. I am so sorry that I can't be there for Valentine’s Day. You can blame Jack. We are all pretty sure that he’s the one that got us sick.

I have a surprise though, Petey will swing by around 5:30 today and bring you some flowers. Until then, I hope I can do this letter-thingy some justice. Keep in mind that I have the writing skills of a toddler. If I'm being honest, I have brock on the other side of the phone coaching me through this. I am also keeping my fingers crossed that it gets to you in time. Don't worry, these things usually work out for me.

 God, I miss you but then again, I’m so happy you didn’t come to all-stars and get sick. I hope you know the only thing I care about is that you're safe and healthy. That’s what it’s always been about for me. I am so thankful that you chose me to be the one making sure that you are living the best life possible,

Baby. I don’t care if I have to be away for a little longer as long as I can see your lovely face when I get home and that I can know I kept you safe from all this covid-19 stuff. We will do everything I promised we would when I left for Vegas. Dinner and a movie? As long as you don't make me watch The Titanic for the seventh time. That movie is way too fucking long! Just kidding. We can watch anything as long as I get to hold you when you cry and see the way you smile when you get all happy.

Maybe after my quarantine, we could take a road trip and book a nice hotel room. We can make time to go wherever you want. Mom says that I need to make more time for the people I love. Also, my mom has been non-stop talking about you since Hanukkah. They want to have you out to Michigan soon. The both of us should go there as our first stop as soon as the season is over.

The core four of me, you, Jack, and Luke could all go boating. It will be the last summer before Luke is in the NHL and Jack takes all his free time. So we better make this summer the best yet. All of us could drive down to Alberta and take Luke for his first drink at a bar! You have to be the one to take Luke. Mom says, "Y/n is the only one responsible enough," to do that with him. She does NOT trust Jack much after the first time he went drinking. 

Do you remember that? Jack had called us at four a.m. Just because he was shitfaced and he cried on the phone with you because he needed a ride back to the hotel. You almost killed him because we were so jet-lagged after just getting back to Vancouver from Hawaii.

Mom was just happy that he wasn't hurt. Still, I got yelled at for eight days after that night. Yet, it showed me how much you care for my brothers and mom. I love how you are with my family. It’s like you just fit with us. It’s weird not having you here quarantining with us in Vegas. However, I am sure the boys and my mom will find a way to spend more time with us soon.

I need alone time with you first.  I will need some TLC after having to stop Jack from letting all-stars get to his ego. I can’t wait to be back in our bed for nightly cuddles. Oh, and your cooking. My god, you are a great cook. I swear I keep missing your homemade Mac’n’Cheese because I am getting sick of take-out fast. We have been keeping track, Zegras ordered us room service burgers six times since all-stars skills night.

Most of all, I can not wait to get back to normal. You never know how much you keep me grounded. The family and I can't wait for me to get back on the ice. Then, things will start going smoothly again. Especially, once you’re in the crowd cheering me on. This quarantine has reminded me of how happy I am to have a cheerleader like you. Anyways, I’ll be home soon, I promise. Then I can fix the you-sized hole in my heart. We could order some food and FaceTime tonight? You should text me and let me know if you can. Until then, I will be waiting for you to call me!

Love you forever and always,  Your Quinner. 

Taglist: @hugheshugs @nucksgal03 @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @oowenspower

[aureiki]

This is a continuation of my last post regarding the cast's backstories! Before I do anything, big shoutout to the discord for helping me out a lil on some of these.

While I was discussing backstories w some friends, they brought up a theory that since the themes are guilt/shame or whatever similar, the cast had probably done something awful. Such as yk, murder and the sorts. I'll most likely talk about these themes below! A prior warning for it.

I'll hopefully make this a little more longer, so without further ado-

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Rose Lacroix

"In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on."

It's basic knowledge in the community that Rose has INCREDIBLE photographic memory, and that she'll remember, well literally anything. As helpful as it was in the first case, and her actual ultimate, it's also definitely a huge inconvenience to her normal life.

She can remember ANYTHING, Rose has obviously seen some pretty... nasty things she'd like to forget, but can't. The way she calls her life wretched does show that she's- unhappy? Annoyed with her life? Well, nobody can really blame her.

If Rose did end up killing a person, and if not that, put them in an awful state with her own hands. It'd make sense yk? It'll obviously be a memory she'd rather forget but cant. And thus the HQ, in the end, all she can do is watch. Death is a scary thing after all. (Coughs coughs feed into my theory she will commit s word in the future coughs)

J Moreno

"Please don’t call me your daughter ever again."

Luckily for me, a lot of her backstory was revealed in the newest FTE video! It was theorized for a while, and I'm not shocked to find out it's actually canon! (/pos)

Her mother dressed her up all girly and stuff, made her do things that 'girls should always do.' Telling J that 'swearing isn't lady-like!' Wear makeup everyday! Don't cut your hair too short, no one will marry you if you look like a guy!'

Something I can (unfortunately) relate to, in fact a lot of girls do. J also reveals that her brother never had to go through that stuff, and was left to do whatever he wanted, much to J's jealousy.

When a parent drills the mindset that girls should ALWAYS be girly, and boys should ALWAYS be rough and rowdy, it'll really change how their kids see things. Thus, J was just lead to believe that all girly girls are lame and annoying (because well, her mother forced her to be one) while boys are cool and whatever (her brother didn't get annoyed by their mother, and J was just likely sick of being feminine.)

Personally I don't feel like getting into gender talk regarding J, I'm not cis of course but I'd rather leave it as it is, headcanons and all ^^

J does also reveal she really hates her mom, calling her annoying and stuff. For the fact that her mom forced her to be girly. I'm not saying that's a bad reason to dislike someone, personally I have a little dislike for my own parents for those same reasons. But I'm wondering just how bad did it get for J to act and behave that way.

The whole guilt and shame thing? With this alone, I'm not quite sure.. If her mother is important, then maybe J feels guilt for pushing her mother (or even, her whole family) out of her life? Or if I go to the more extreme route, J did/said something bad to her mom in a fit of rage, and caused her mom's own death.

Eden Tobisa

"You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try."

What I like about Eden's HQ is that it's sort of a play on her talent. (Go back/Turn back time) Unlike a good majority of the cast, Eden isn't an asshole, so it's a lot more unbelievable that she did something bad.. to me atleast.

Fits the guilt and shame theme, Eden desperately wants to go back, perhaps to a time when things were simple, or reverse an accident she caused. Eden is quite the foil of Teruko, being so willing to trust her in the trial despite being the most obvious suspect for Xander's death. And she was the (assumed) most upset over Teruko leaving, and Teruko's sudden outburst in the trial.

With that being said, I don't think the HQ refers to Eden's own actions *specifically*, not fully atleast. It could be an accident someone else caused, and Eden wants to go back to a time where it never happened. There's also the fact she's pretty awful at time management (ironic, she's a clockmaker)

Tuning out everything else while you work is normal, I do that. But for her to work on machinery for *14 hours without a single break*? It's very likely a joke, with the way she says it so casually but I dunno.. Maybe she wishes to be ignorant, like Rose, she wants to forget what happened and what she's done.

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That's all for today! Again, I'll do the rest when I have time! You're free to discuss more and add anything if u wish! ( ๑>ᴗ<๑ )