#idk how many more deep-breathing my anger away i can take

[greppelheks]

That woman who makes videos about how to professionally say something rude in an email is honestly keeping me from getting fired, 'cause I'm close to emailing back that if they don't shut the fuck up I'm gonna beat the shit out of them, daily.

[pupkashi]

Idk if your taking requests but I may or may not be in need of a gojo comfort fic when your boss is shitty and work is stressful👉👈

hi anon i hope this brings you a little comfort <3 wishing you all the best you amazing hard worker !!! i didn’t expect this to get this long

everything seems off the second satoru enters your shared home. there’s no sound from the kitchen or tv, there’s no music playing and there’s no lights on.

his first instinct is to panic, his mind racing as he wonders if something bad had happened to you, ready to burn down the world to ensure your safety and make anyone responsible pay for hurting his lover.

then he takes a deep breath, calms his racing heart and calls out your name. when he gets no response he frowns, heart rate spiking again as he searches the living room, kitchen and restroom before heading upstairs.

a wave of relief washes over him when he sees warm light peaking out from the cracked bedroom door. he’s about to open the door to loudly greet you when he stops in his tracks, heart dropping when he hears your muffled sniffles.

the second you see the door opening your face pales, trying your best to wipe any stray tears away before satoru can see you.

“angel! didn’t expect you back so soon” you laugh nervously, wiping your nose with the sleeve of his your sweatshirt as you stand up from the floor. you know your eyes are puffy and red, you know you’ve been caught but a part of you hopes satoru will let it slide just this once.

the other part of you knows he won’t let it go, he’s going to do everything in his power to help you and make you feel better about it all.

“what happened? are you hurt? who hurt you?” his words come out with a flurry of emotions; anger, sadness, and worry all wrapped up with a bow of concern as he walks up to you quickly. he’s gently resting his hands on your shoulders, looking you over and around the room to try and figure out what had happened.

“I’m okay it’s nothing” you say, trying your best to force a small smile, but your bottom lip quivers. it hurts satoru too much for him to stand around doing nothing.

“sweetheart please,” he whispers, brows drawn together in concern, “I just wanna help you.” his gentle words are enough to make you break down into tears again, knees weak as you let yourself sit on the edge of the bed, holding your head in tour hands as you cried.

“work is just so shitty” you say as best you can, calming yourself down as satoru holds you against his chest tightly. “my boss treats me like I’m an idiot who can’t do anything” you mumble against his chest.

“i do everything i can and prove myself over and over again- I’ve taken on so many things lately and it’s so stressful and for what?” you question, pushing yourself off your lover and looking him in the eyes, “all so they can tell me i need to do better? i hate it there, they never acknowledge me and- i hate it” you cry, tears welling in your eyes once more.

the last weeks had been too overwhelming to handle, but you’d set your emotions aside, wanting to perform at your best at work. your boss’ shitty remarks were the tipping point for you as you clocked out.

satoru holds you tightly against him, trying his best to calm you down. he’s rubbing your back with one hand and holding your head against his chest with the other. it’s not until he feels you only hiccuping as you calm down that he loosens his grip on you.

when you pull away from him you cringe at how soaked you’ve left his t shirt, biting back an apology as you know the state of his shirt isn’t even on his mind at the moment.

“did you want to just vent or did you want me to give input?” he asks softly, acknowledging that sometimes he doesn’t need to give you any advice, you can handle yourself when you need to.

“just wanted to vent i guess” you mumble, thanking him when he hands you tissues to blow your nose.

“i can always kill your boss” he smiles. you smack his chest softly, chuckling as you shake your head. you know he’s not joking about it, fully prepared to end anyone that makes you cry. “okay then how about buying out the company?” he thinks, a finger on his chin as you shove him.

“stop throwing your money around for nothing” you tell him, making him pout as he looks at you.

“it’s not nothing though, it’s for you” he says, pressing a feathery kiss to one of your cheeks, “I’d spend every penny i have to see you smile, sweetheart.” the words have your face growing hotter by the second, and you don’t care to admit the way your heart thumps against your ribcage at his confession.

“but for now how about i just spend however much you want on some takeout and snacks, yeah?” his words make you smile, letting yourself lean against him, letting your eyes flutter shut. they burned slightly from how hard you’d cried, for a second you worry about how swollen they’ll be tomorrow, but it quickly fades when you feel satoru’s lips on the top of your head.

“here, pick whatever you want while i go start the shower” he smiles, handing you his phone before he’s kissing your forehead and heading to the restroom.

time seems like it stops for a second, as you scroll on satoru’s phone and pick your favorite takeout, you leave it unlocked so he can ass his meal on there too. like clockwork he’s stepping out of the restroom, motioning for you to join him in the restroom.

it’s one of the most intamiye moments you’ve shared with him, letting him gently take the clothes you were wearing off. you step out of the pants and underwear pooled around your ankles a he ushers you into the shower. satoru takes his clothes off afterwards, following you in and grabbing the shower head.

he lets the warm water run over you, making sure to get your hair soaked before he’s getting shampoo in his hands and massaging it in. then he does the same with the conditioner and body wash. it’s relatively quiet, save for the water running and satoru’s occasional humming.

once he’s done he’s giving you a warm towel, wrapping it around you and telling you he’d be right out. satoru shampoos his own hair with much less gentleness and care than he had yours, quickly rinsing his hair and drying himself off before joining you on the bed.

“you wanna wear my sweatshirt? I’ll spray my cologne on it for you” he grins, heart leaping when your eyes sparkle at his words. satoru doesn’t waste a moment, handing you the sweater and a fresh pair of underwear.

he’s putting in boxers and grey sweats, messily towel drying his hair when the doorbell rings. “you wanna eat up here or downstairs?” he asks you, slipping a black t shirt on before opening the bedroom door.

“let’s do downstairs” you smile, watching as he walks down the hall and disappears down the stairs. you close your eyes and let out a sigh of relief, feeling like the pressure of the world had been washed down the drain thanks to your lover.

life feels okay again as you eat takeout on the couch, a shitty romcom on the tv as you two poke fun at the main characters of the movie, betting on what cliche they’ll do next. there’s a pint of your favorite ice cream flavor waiting for you in the fridge and a bouquet of flowers in a beautiful vase now adorning the dinner table.

satoru keeps you at his side the whole night, pampering and assuring you how amazing you were. he makes sure to tell you that he could easily support you if you wanted to quit, he could have you moved to another location if you just say the word.

but you shake your head, “i just had it piled up for too long, I’ll be okay” you assure him. “plus i have a really great boyfriend to help me when things he hard” you add on, making him smile and hold you tighter.

“sweets you don’t need me at all, you’re much stronger than i am” he chuckles, “i would’ve killed them by now; you’re so resilient.” his words make you smile, letting a comfortable silence fall over the two of you.

work sucks, your boss is an asshole. but satoru is always there to help you when things get too much. and you have a sneaking suspicion that a blue eyed man is behind your boss getting fired in two days time.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

KICTTC 5

I'm BACK helloooo! Oh my goodness friends! I have so much to tell you all! So I kinda was collar grabbed by this story so my edit of chapter 4 is SO different from what I posted here, SOOOOO I'm posting a bit of the edited Ch4 so no one misses out on plot! ahhh I've been so excited to share this all with you!!!! Transference chapter 3 is in the works as well as a secret WIP! I really wanna focus of my first two stories though so Idk when that will be up or what an update schedule might look like.

Anyways the Angst is strong, the trauma and body horror is as strong as the blasphemous tea I brew, read at your own leisure I aint yo mama lol

Stay safe, give yourself grace, take your meds, get some sun, burrow in a blanket nest, drink water and eat a snack lovelies!

~Ren

Once Danny makes a decision he throws himself in head first, this will be no different. Danny has to start at the beginning. He must tell them everything to have a hope of them understanding how Danny ended up dropping through a portal to his brother’s side. For… their family to understand what true danger hunts him even now.

Dick sips his cup of coffee only to look at it betrayed when it’s bitter and cold. He has been in Bruce’s study watching the live feed of the recovery room for hours. He managed to drag himself to bed when Alfred had insisted but his dreams had been plagued with Danyal trembling on the floor, knife hilt deep in his small neck, the sight of them in the doorway had made him panic and then he was bleeding out, his breath gurgling in his throat as he died. It was an awful way to wake up and he couldn’t even go check on Danyal in person! Damian had cashed in a lot of the blackmail he’s kept on them to keep them away. While Dick was proud of his little brother’s emotional growth, seeing their youngest in person would go a long way for Dick to shake off his nightmare. He is a bat though so he will endure, especially because this involves his family, his brothers. 

As the sun started dipping below the horizon behind the curtains Tim walked into the study with two large cups filled to the top with coffee, one with a ton of sugar and cream the other plain black coffee, “Awe Timmy! You brought me coffee!” Dick snatches the plain one up with a smirk. 

Tim just grumbles at his grabby hands and relinquishes the cup. He shuffles over to the couch and pulls out his laptop to work on something- Dick isn’t sure where Tim had managed to safely carry the computer with two fresh coffees- and promptly ignores the others as they file in the next ten or so minutes. Judging by the dark circles under everyone’s eyes, sleep was hard to come by. 

Bruce is slumped into his chair watching the twins. No one breaks the silence. Dick eyes Jason from where his brother has propped himself against the wall out of the way Their father’s shoulders are tense in anger. So Talia is probably giving him the slip. He can’t help but feel resentment for the woman who keeps secrets that hurt his family. She knows that people don’t always stay dead. When Jason died, the only reason Dick had to face it, recognize that his little brother was dead was because they had his body as sure proof he had been murdered. Dick has seen many times how Bruce grieves and it’s never good. Adding in a twin? Bruce is holding himself together with sheer will power and meticulous training. Bruce might be almost impossible to read but he was the first boy to be adopted. He has more Bruce experience than anyone else in the family but Alfred. He can see the cracks. 

Turning back to the screen Dick lets out a little coo at the image. Damian is awake and is looking at Danyal like he’d disappear from under the blanket they share. The boy carefully extracts himself to use the restroom that’s tucked away in the corner. When he comes back onto the screen he is changed into his sweatpants and a t-shirt Dick recognizes as his own. He also spots a change of clothes for Danyal in his arms, which he sets on the side table next to the bed before Damian goes around refilling the water pitcher and glass to be ready for use, setting fresh towels out. 

Turning his attention to the younger boy, he can see how sickly the boy is when they’re side by side to compare. His pale skin shows off the dark veins underneath, his cheeks are caving into his face, all his baby fat eaten away, dark bruises under his eyes, and with how injured he was… it’s not telling a pretty story. Dick is confident that if Danyal hadn’t dropped out of the rafters in that warehouse they’d never know he could’ve been out there. He desperately needed help even if he hadn’t realized it yet. Bruce and Dick watch Damian crawl back into bed, Danny doesn’t wake but he does turn towards where Damian has frozen owl-eyed. An arm snags the bottom edge of Damian’s shirt and like a signal the rest of his limbs follow to entwine them together. It’s very cute. With a smirk Dick takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture. It’s unlikely to truly upset Damian since it’s probably the only picture that they have of the twins together right now, but however Damian responds when he knows the picture exists will be satisfying. 

“Are we gonna get on with it or just sit in silence with our thumbs up our asses?” Jason glares, looking significantly more tense. He stares down the room while crossing his arms across his chest. 

Dick sees Bruce’s shoulders square up like he’s bracing for a physical punch instead of the verbal jab. Batman has an almost obsessive need to know everything he can about a situation, it was one of his many lessons that they as his children made into muscle memory. Knowledge made carefully crafted contingency plans that kept their family safe on and off the streets. Something to hold, to have in reserve for when they need it. To be thrown so many unknowns in the shape of a brother was unsettling them all. 

“Jason.” Dick throws him a disappointed look from where he stands by Bruce, placing a hand on his shoulder to diffuse the argument that would shortly explode. “Danyal hasn’t been conscious, he hasn’t had the chance to explain anything yet, has he?” He raises his eyebrow at his brother. The family might not always reach an agreement on, well most things, but Dick knows his younger brother cares. He does. He won’t admit it but he’s here. Red Hood sticks to Crime Alley, looking after his people and- though he won’t claim them- his kids. One glance at Danyal’s wounded, still form was all it took to gain his loyalty. Red Hood liked to take his aggression out on those who disrespect his claim. Jason’s impulse to run off and hunt the monsters who could harm a child this way was poorly hidden. Dick understood the feeling so he didn’t push further.

Jason sneered at his words but didn’t bite back, just turned his impatient gaze towards Tim. “I’m sure Tim has been doing more digging than sleeping.”

Bruce inhales sharply drawing all of their attention. He’s looking at the monitor, hitting the unmute, Damian’s voice floods the room. “I simply meant you only have to tell me what has happened since we were separated… Once, here. I-We had thought you would prefer what privacy we can afford while we determined who had made the grave mistake of harming you. The family, while well intentioned, can be overwhelming. It is difficult gathering everyone and having them sit quietly for extended periods of time and our family is… large.” 

Damian’s description brought a small smile to Dick’s face. Danyal’s quiet reply dimmed the edges because he sounded so young. 

The whole group shifted and was laser focused on their new family member. Dick can’t think of any way to describe this whole situation as wrong as he took in what he could see.. It had nothing to do with Danny himself, or maybe it was more accurate to say whatever made his newly claimed baby brother look like that was what was firing off all his finely honed warning bells. A glance around at the others makes it clear they’re all, for once, on the same page.

If Bruce’s glare could kill the poor monitor would’ve been smoking at this point. Danyal was clearly at the end of his rope. Dick will admit as much as it irks him Damian was right to sequester the recovery room and keep Danyal in a calm area. They watch in horror as Danyal starts to speak. He was hesitant and nervous at first but slowly gained confidence when Damian didn’t react adversely. 

The rest of them didn’t have to restrain themselves. 

  “What the actual fuck?” That’s Tim’s angry voice, Dick shutters. He sounds like he’s already started on researching his shit list by the furious tapping that comes from the couch. Drs Fenton, the Ghost Investigation Ward, and Vlad Masters can’t possibly know what is coming for them. Dick isn’t sure whether to step in when Jason sinks down into the couch next to their younger brother and they immediately start whispering between themselves. 

He decides after a long look at the twins murmuring to each other that he would rather check on Bruce. “B?” 

The man that stands firm against Gotham’s most unsavory rogues, looks back at him lost. His eyes get drawn back to his sons on the screen, “He’s so small Dick. I-” It’s rare Bruce breaks in composure and Dick’s chest squeezes. His father looks haunted. 

“We’re here for him now, B.” He says gently. There are no words he could say that can erase what is already done. 

They listen to Tim and Jason in the background while watching Damian help Danyal get out of bed. Once on his feet Danyal waves his twin away. He’s weak and shaky but they breathe a bit easier when his legs don’t give out underneath his body weight. The short walk to the bathroom door seemed to have winded him. Danyal reaches for the wall and presses into it while he pauses. And pauses. 

Damian hasn’t rushed to his side so Dick tries not to panic. He probably needs a moment to gather himself. “Do you think we need to send Alfred down?” He asks Bruce. 

“What?” Tim and Jason both looked up at him in tandem. 

“Danyal! He was- well he is- fine. But look! He’s all hunched like he can’t breathe right? Why is Damian just watching?” Dick frets wringing his hands.

Attention diverted from their plans of destruction the two leave the couch and crowd around Bruce’s desk. 

“Oh fuck!” Tim curses, roughly rolling Bruce’s chair away from the keyboard. “I don’t know how they did it but I think the feed was paused, or spliced or looped. I’m trying to override it- Ah! I got it!” 

The feed clears and they all blink at the empty room. The bathroom door is open and Danyal’s things that were by the door are gone. 

Bruce jumps out of his chair. “What were they doing right before?” 

Tim pulls up the saved file and finds the moments right before the glitch. “They’re hugging?” A few lines of code and Tim has the background volume boosted. A hushed conversation in Arabic reaches their ears. 

“Okay Danyal, I understand and will help you,” Damian studies his brother for a moment, “how can I help you best in this moment Danyal, what is it you want.” 

They watch Danyal look around at the room, fear leaking in now that he’s not focused on the boy with him. “I can’t be here. I won’t heal.”

Bruce flinches like Danyal had hit him.

They embraced, and whatever else was said was too muffled to pick up.

They watch entranced, like a bruise you can’t help but press on, as the scene plays out and ends with Danyal leaning against the wall. 

“They can’t have gotten far, the demon brat wouldn’t risk hurting his precious twin, Dickie-Bird and I can fetch the chicks that flew the nest.” Jason sighs.

Bruce’s phone rings and they all look at it with reluctance. That’s Oracle’s ringtone so it’s important. Dick swipes the device and answers with a quick, “O, we’ve got a situation, please tell me this is important.”

“Yeah it is,” Barbra agrees, “if you guys were gonna patrol why wasn’t I looped in, huh?” 

Dick exchanges a confused look with the others. “Uh no, O, we agreed no patrol tonight, Black Bat, Signal, and Spoiler were our covers.”

“Then why is the Batmobile headed towards the edge of town?” 

They, with years of experience fighting side by side, spring in sync for the hidden entrance and pile into the elevator to the cave to change and to track down their brothers.

~~~~~~~

Gotham was unusually muggy this evening. Bruce could feel the sweat drip down his scalp and his suit was already damp. Breath blazed through his lungs yet brought him no warmth. He had to suppress his instinct to shiver. Fear was all he could feel. It was bone chillingly familiar. Nothing like Scarecrow’s toxin yet he was still sinking deeper into glacier littered water. As Batman, Bruce has taken many hits, faced the cruel underbelly of Gotham from the shadows and had said enough. Birthed from vengeance and relentlessly courting justice, he gets back up, keeps moving, doesn’t stay down even when he probably should. No one else had managed to stand against the city’s rogues. Every night he embraces their seething rage that blistered the streets and exploded buildings. Batman turns towards danger, not away. He is the shield that protects his city's people from the impact the best he can. It’s never enough. Batman has flung himself head first into a race that had long since started. 

In the rare hours he is alone surrounded by the soft glow of the Batcomputer and the quiet rustling of sleeping bats he can admit, those first years, he had enjoyed the vicious fights. Tangoing with death each night. He was entranced, he would dance until the curtain dropped. It was a destructive cycle he couldn’t escape. As he’s aged his compulsion to run off has cooled, and it was only after the first time Dick got more than just a few bruises did he realize the true cost. Even if he couldn’t stop them, perhaps he should’ve tried harder to work with his children to ensure their safety.  A family of vigilantes was a double edged blade. His curse to bear. The curse he spread. Every night his heart is split into pieces and goes with them as they stalk their prey from within the shadows. His children amaze terrify him in how they’ve all risen to fight back the miasma that threatens to swallow Gotham whole. 

He doesn’t know Danyal, has never learned what his favorite breakfast is or seen him off to school. They have never shared late night training sessions. His youngest has never fallen asleep sequestered away in his own world working on a case and for Bruce to find him and tuck him into bed like he has with all of his children at least once. No. He was never given a chance. Danyal’s existence was hidden from him. His death was a secret Damian was manipulated into thinking he had to carry the weight alone. And people believed Batman to be some sort of legendary detective. If Bruce was less controlled he might scoff at the thought. He missed things, big and small, all the time. Most often it was his children that were affected by his carelessness, his lack of understanding. 

He knows what it is to lose a son. In death and because of his own parental ineptitude. Bruce knows what it is for his world to spin out from under his feet and to let his rage blindly guide him. Bruce risks a glance at Jason, his walking, talking, breathing miracle. Why couldn’t he just say that to the person who needed to hear it. Jason had died, it was awful, truly awful. As an adult he has never felt so lost. Jason was only a child. A brilliant, bright, life snuffed out in the cruelest way only for some universal hiccup to thrust his soul back into body and for Talia to pick him up. They’ve never talked about the Y-incision that spans his entire torso. Jason hadn’t intended for him to see it. Bruce doesn’t know who is responsible. He doesn’t know if they dare breathe another breath on Earth. He’s afraid to ask. He’s afraid of what he’ll do if they aren’t already dead. No, the only thing he knew about it was what Jason had deliriously shared with him while sick with whooping cough. The cut may have happened but that was as far as they got. His ribs remained intact, his organs undisturbed. Bruce has to trust Jason told him the truth. Bruce hadn’t had the strength to imagine alternatives.

He has no choice now. Whatever Danyal’s journey has been, wherever he’s been. Bruce despairs that his youngest’s life journey has been too similar to Jason’s. Danny had listed off to Damian the multitude of injuries he had and Bruce just knew. Two of his sons have been dehumanized, valued as objects for other’s use, to state their curiosity. His youngest didn’t just get cut into, as despicable as that already was, no, he was awake, aware, alive as some sick fuck rooted around behind his ribs. (Half-alive. His gut rolls at the implications yet it brings none of his usual suspicions to draw his attention to what his son was hiding. Only he wasn’t hiding, not from the Wayne family. No, he had shared everything with very little prompting from Damian. Danyal was running from them) Bruce could only stare at the screen in his office in horror. How fast did his regenerative ability work to regrow his harvested organs? Did he have to break wrongly healed bones and had to hold them in place until they healed enough for him to escape or did his bones snap forcefully into place on their own-    

It’s a race against time now. Danyal is in no condition to be on the run. It would crush him to send him away but Bruce would. He can find a secure place away from him for his son if that’s what it took to make him feel safe enough to rest. Recovery needs to be his number one priority, he had been slowly relaxing with Damian yet as soon as he wasn’t disoriented he fled. What does that say about how he thinks they’ll treat him? What does it say about Bruce that Damain felt he could better protect his twin alone?

Bruce forces himself to reach for his comms and connects to the main comm line they use for patrols. “Everyone, change of plans, keep your eyes open for both boys. They fled from the cave in the Batmobile, hail the line immediately if they’re sighted, I don’t expect Robin to linger once it stops.” Bruce internally curses at himself that he didn’t think to have some sort of code for his youngest. He’s known for creating contingency plans for his contingency plans, yet he is not prepared for this. He could’ve never prepared himself for the knowledge he had not one blood son but two, twins. He couldn’t be too revealing incase someone was listening. “We’re in pursuit of the Batmobile now. Remember the boys are both League trained, Robin likely will have some tricks he’ll play.. The boy’s full capabilities are still unknown and he is heavily injured, proceed with caution, the boy is likely running on instinct, resistance is expected. We want to avoid making them feel cornered.” His tone is tight with worry, He doesn’t blame Danyal for being suspicious. He may be their father, but as far as he knows it wouldn’t be safe. Well, Bruce can’t blame either of them, they’re children, his children. He will blame their mother though. “We want them to get them home safe with no further injuries.” 

Some very distant part of him is proud of Damian for unequivocally having his brother’s back, if only they could bond over things that didn’t shave years off his life. Bruce has never been more stressed. Some day soon he’ll just have to embrace the grey that was sprouting in his black hair and give Alfred relief from helping him hide them.

“Copy that B-man! Our eyes are peeled!” Spoiler responds “I’m currently in Burnley, Orphan’s got Somerset covered and Signal is in Old Gotham! If they’re out here we’ll find them.”

“From what Oracle sent, I think I should be able to pick something up with my powers, I’ll keep trying while we move, B.” Signal pipes in.

“Thank you Signal.” Bruce is flooded with relief. He really is lucky to have them, there’s no one else he’d rather have at his back. They’ve all grown into their own. He tries not to sigh. 

Discovering the twins missing had sent them scrambling, even Jason had looked worried and tucked away his instinct to question him or to argue, his second son had simply followed them down to the cave. At this rate he may get an ulcer. He had felt panic steal his critical thinking, as he led his boys south towards where the Batmoblie was speeding away faster than they could grapple. He had to find them. Gotham isn’t safe at night and Danyal’s movements will be restricted if he deems it important not to rip his stitches. 

Moving through the air usually calmed him but tonight grappling wasn’t moving him around fast enough. Taking the Batmobile was smart of his sons, he begrudgingly had to admit, not only was it faster, the boys would be hidden inside. If Robin had driven his bike he’d have superior maneuverability even though Batman could’ve followed them faster, but if the boys had impacted something during a high speed chase to flee? They’d both be thrown. Danyal is already severely injured anything additional.. Bruce couldn’t make himself focus on that. 

His Trouble Twins probably planned it this way to slow them down. To throw them off their tracks. It was working, the boys had a 10 minute lead on their group. They’d left as soon as they had suited up but they still were too far out of reach. Away from the protective shadow of his cape. He couldn’t protect them now that they left the safety of the manor. Jason was cursing underneath him on the street racing past buildings on his bike, he was slightly ahead of Batman and Nightwing’s position in the air, on the bike next to him Tim was working with Barbara to try and get eyes on the boys. Quiet suggestions on what to look for. Shadows that move unnaturally, flashes of color there and gone, how they needed an algorithm up to analyze all of the feeds simultaneously. With the many cameras in Gotham-more than half Bruce had bought for the city to install- they wouldn’t be so hard to find. They shouldn't be so difficult to find, but Damian was particularly slippery when he put in the effort. Bruce glanced at his eldest besides him. 

Dick was one long string pulled too tight. He, of course, was still chatting happily with Barbara but his smile was strained at the edges, his movements too careful and precise. He hasn’t joked once. The possibility the man would snap increases the longer the twins are missing. It’s rare to see Dick outwardly expressing something other than the pure sunshine and patience. By the time Jason had come around he had curbed most of his bloodlust, it was a faint memory by the time Tim weaseled his way into their lives. It reminds Bruce too much of Brucie. The persona that he developed to hide from the vultures that would’ve taken everything from him as a child when tragedy struck. Before Bruce had decided to be active in Gotham’s social scene he knew it was better they underestimate poor orphaned Bruce Wayne. Brucie hid Batman, a shield to protect his family from those who would expose their secrets. He was necessary, even if Bruce felt suffocated most of the time. Was Dick hiding from him? 

He has to suppress a shutter. All his children to some degree, whether on or off the streets, have adapted to Batman’s mannerisms and habits. It was essential to survive facing the threats they do. Dick though fell more into Bruce’s habits. His eldest son, who with a smile looked after his siblings while Bruce was distracted by some crisis or another.They both often blamed themselves for things they couldn’t stop or foresee. That heavy invisible weight that sits on their shoulders because they claimed it. Bruce knows that he’s failed his children, Dick.. Dick in particular has had to step up on his behalf to smooth things over between family members. Forced to become another parent to the kids he brought home. It was never Dick’s responsibility and it’s taken time and a lot of effort but Bruce is making steps forward, trying to stop repeating the same mistakes. It was only Alfred’s guidance and help raising the boy that he excelled instead of crumbling under Bruce’s incompetence. Bruce was trying though. Even if it was hard to talk about casually, he was in therapy, it was.. Helping. He’s not putting so much of himself onto his children these days. He’s been processing his thoughts and feelings instead of bottling them inside and letting his anger rule him. 

Words though, they still escaped him on the best days. Today was shaping up into an absolutely horrible one. Bruce wanted to say something to reassure his sons that things would be okay. None sounded right. He let them choke him. If they could just find Danyal. As much as it would pain Bruce, his youngest doesn’t have to stay with them-with him. Bruce could never trap him here. He… He just wants Danyal to recover. Recover and be safe, whatever that looks like. The boy looked so small next to Damian. They’re twins and Danyal was so small on that bed next to his brother, all skin and bones, his skin stretched over his face making him look years older and the blood, oh God, it took a second but once they realized all that green was coming from inside of him, Bruce was sure they were going to be planning another funeral. The Y-shaped wound was gruesome and he had stared in shock. Another one of his children getting cut open, violated. Vivisected. He was going to mourn another child. He was going to puke. He was going to destroy those who dared to touch Danyal. A heady mix of vengeance and justice for a boy he’d never properly meet. Somehow though, the boy had stabilized. His boy, another one. He’s too old for surprise kids. Only to be spirited away by Damian behind layers and layers of traps that had made the family hesitate and then they were gone, on the run with Alfred’s careful stitches being the only thing holding Danyal together.   

What were they thinking? Why wasn’t I? Why didn’t I fight Damian harder when he locked them out of the recovery room? No…Danyal was already compromised. Damian saw this and ran from his family because he didn’t trust them to protect Danyal, didn’t trust them not to set him off. Maybe they would’ve made it worse, maybe his son was right even if Bruce didn’t want to admit it. Damian was saving them from an error. The boy who he had only met unconscious or through a screen, would’ve lashed out at himself again and they would’ve caused his-

“B? The Batmobile’s tracker has stopped moving on the edge of Burnside near the Craig Bridge. I can’t get a clear view.” Oracle reports 

“Hn.” He adjusts his trajectory and his sons follow suit, adjusting their positions to be out behind him in a V-shaped formation. If someone were to see them at this hour they’d see the vigilantes and would draw parallels between them and their namesakes, in normal circumstances it might bring a ghost of a smile across his face, they were a mixed bag flock. His flock. His family. He was thankful to have them at his back tonight. They’d find the boys, they had to. They still had nothing on the threat that was nipping at Danyal’s heels. If they were caught…

“Why would the Demon Brats go there?” Jason grumbles. They’re three blocks away now so Bruce has to fight his nausea down. They might have to subdue the boys if they won’t listen to reason. The idea of injuring Danyal further or obliterating any chance to build a relationship because he sees them as a threat rather than family. He has to stay firm though. He might have not been allowed in the room but between Alfred’s worried fretting and the security feed Bruce is very aware how Danyal shouldn’t be moving let alone going on the run with Damian. If Danyal would just let him explain he had options maybe he’d come back on his own.

“Hood, Red Robin, hang back and spread out. Start searching. I’d like to have our newest addition to Agent A within the hour. Nightwing with me.”

His grapple connects to the next roof and he leans into the arc so his path can wrap around the corner. Just ahead the Batmobile is stopped. The doors were open, no signs of the boys or of a struggle. Bruce knows they won’t find anything inside the Batmobile, Damian is efficient and clean in his work, but they look anyway. Bruce shares a look with his oldest and sighs. 

“Nothing in the Batmobile, Hood, Red Robin, report.” He shoots his grapple at the closest roof to get a better view of the surrounding area, Nightwing follows closely behind him. 

“Nothing that I can see.” Hood grunts.

“Nothing here either, no alerts from the cameras.” Red Robin sounds frustrated, “You don’t think they bailed in a dead zone, do you? Robin wouldn’t have him jump from a speeding vehicle, right?” 

“Hn.” Bruce refuses to acknowledge that thought. Even if it was a likely option, if they felt it necessary to throw them off to that degree. Dick is quiet next to him. He wants to say the right thing to ease his worries. Bruce has never been good at finding the right words, to reassure without false promises but will always try, “We’ll figure out what happened, Chum.”

Dick looks at him for a long moment. Bruce lets him and tries not to shutter himself away. Dick needs Bruce more than Batman right now. “Yeah,” It comes out grim, “before or after my youngest brother reopens something?” 

Bruce squeezes his son’s shoulder before turning away and shoots his grapple at the next roof. Right before he jumps he says, “We can only hope the boys are being careful and try our best to find them.”

[thedivineart]

PICK A CARD: FACTS AND SECRETS OF YOUR GREATEST LOVE.

⠀⠀⠀꒰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⌷ .⠀⠀d i s c l a i m e r⠀⠀✿𝆬

[ 𝒜𝓇𝓉 ✧ ] any events and other things in your life are cannot be accurately predict by me and the tarot cards, do take a note that we are 'still' the creator of our 'future'- what you 'do' now will be the outcome of your future life and this could be either a good or bad, if your doing good and you are good to others expect the bright future ahead but in reverse you might expect the worst.

[ ℰ𝓂𝒾𝓈 ✧ ] to pick a pile, firstly take a good deep breath, second focus on every pile in the photo provided below { pile one, pile two, pile three }, and lastly scroll more down to reveal your reading. if you cannot still pick up any of the pile, do remember the sequence of what is written in the first sentence.

ꕀ ׅ࣪ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒶 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝒹 ; facts and secrets of your ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗᵉˢᵗ ˡᵒᵛᵉ

[ 𝒜𝓇𝓉ℯ𝓂𝒾𝓈 ✧ ] grammatical errors ahead, if you're a perfectionist then leave this pac. I do write with so many flaws and I know it's not perfect since my first language isn't english.

-` 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝐷𝐼𝑉𝐼𝑁𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑇 ´- ✰︵ — m a s t e r l i s t ´-

: ･. ﾟ ✧. : ･. ☽˚｡ ･ﾟ ✧: ･. :.

PILE ONE

seems that they likes socialising, sort of life of the party individual and may possibly that they got alot of friends since they value friendships however there's something happened between them and a friend ( probably group of friends ) which lead your person to feel victimize and got anxiety. either this called friend is hating/sabotaging them or bullying them, idk but this one 'friend' and your person isn't in good terms, definitely fear this 'friend' too. hmm, I feel that there's something fishing involve here, I think your person and this 'friend' have something before, like they tried to be in relationship before but actually failed to become stable. this person of yours may/already feel heartbreak and betrayal in their timeframe, even though they got friends they still feel need someone to fill their loneliness. on the other side, they literally got it all and might come from wealthy or wealthy by themselves (if they are a 'man'), high status in life and often in leadership position like in company being it's c.e.o or the boss where they work, actually they got multiple options and choices about their life, like they can get what they like unlike the others. however they tends to daydream and imagine often. also likes luxurious things or materialistic individual they are, they care about the money alot and good at handling it, they literally hate it when someone is late when there's a sched and call time when it be happen, but they are slow to be anger. when you see this person physically and in reality, you'll be having the thought of "they looks tough and cold individual" when it quite faraway from it, they know how to hide their innocence and vulnerability inside by hiding it on their appearance. one thing that keeps me interested with this individual, they willing to give it all if they love someone that's why often they end up feels of being disappointed and just hurting themselves but they know how to heal themselves too. knife and skull symbol might be prominent for this person maybe a tattoo or they like those symbols.

- dm me for personal readings

PILE TWO

tw: die, kill

soulmates connection here.there's two scenario here, first -they know within themselves that they are defensive being but of course they don't wouldn't tell it, if they found themselves in that situation they tends to walk away and leave that situation or where they are now, they want to leave and scape to that place but they don't know how, all they can do now is to be patient most of the time. and might be conservative in everything. they also know how to manifest specially to their desires, they believe that action and willingness with manifestation will lead you to a prosperous and secure life, at some point they prefer to work alone like being self employed. might be ailurophiles, they love cats. seems that they are more confident, if they achieve something or if someone is supporting them. they like to offer for people alot whether it's time, money or support from them. negative sides might be forgetful and hot tempered, idk if they are famous since they have alot of supporters maybe quite well known where field or place they are. they do believe success comes from hard work and overcoming obstacles, love how optimistic they are. finally a secret was channeled here, they may don't seem one as physically but they are very sensual individual who knows how to hide it. they do care about the animals specially if this is a cat and the humanity. you can easily may know their true identity by how they act in front of you. for some point, some people here may already know this person or will gonna know this individual this year. dang bruh, I'm shock to this message but this person having thoughts of wanting to die, they want to commit this sin or their anxiety is getting worst day after day, they want to tell it to someone but this person thinks that ' will they understand them even though they will tell it to someone'. s/he got the reason for it, the story behind of why they want to do it but might be afraid that no one will understand them. just a reminder that be observant to people who surround you, look how they behave and think before you outburst words coming from your mouth cause we don't know who suffer, this type of mental illness can kill, no kidding around.

- dm me for personal readings

PILE THREE

this person got powerful aura than the rest of the piles and somewhat seems that this pile is the combination of 1 and 2. they come from a wealthy/stable family/high status or inheritance from old people around their family, that's the reason why they don't suffer much when in comes to finances, this money may came from a masculine energy more likely the father or their grandpa. mostly who pick this pile, your person is more mature in appearance or by mentally or by age. might be working on authority level like the boss or in government and law or higher positions like manager, being team leader etc. for some people who pick this pile, I see that they still studying like maybe in higher grade than yours or simply this person loves to learn and very determine as well dedicated to what they are studying. however they may have fear that someone is more better than them, or they experience anxiety or deep unhappiness which causes to got some sleep paralysis/negativity. on the other hand, I'm seeing that they will overcome this one his/her obstacles. they tends to act hasty or bad mouthing and expressing how bitter they are in life maybe because of what they just experience, or they been/will face betrayal in life. they got big social cycle, alot of people know them and they know alot of people too, possibly that they are famous in their surrounding, however your person really knows who are the true and enemy to them or your person may feels that every people around them are not true and just want them for the money and fame specially if those individuals are his/her friends. they been wishing for healing from what people did to them for a very long period of time, they got solution and want to fly away to rest and ease this pain within themselves. they want some joy in their life and was eager for seeking it. as a addition, I see here that this person got some eagle eye or great observation, like they see it but other people wouldn't. everyone seems to respect this person and they know it, they know they are someone who should be respected too ( seems overbearing for me ). when they talk they are too honest to their words and doesn't care if the someone may feel hurt from it or spilling tea is one of their habit/mannerism. one more thing, they think people around them are ugly ( lol, that's bad ) like they based on physical appearance but of course they will keep it by themselves however if you focus on their eyes you can see the judging looking.

- dm me for personal readings

[ 🤎. ] Hello! Thank You so much for checking out this pac reading, if you ever like it please do follow and reblog for more pac. Let me know what you feel by commenting down below...

© thedivineart — do not plagiarize any of my work, translate or repost it on other social media platform , do remember that this is only my official account where all my pac are posted, if you ever see something like mine from word by word kindly report it to me, thank you<3. theme is included

[cowardlybean]

Hey. The Times They Are A Changin’ by @bandtrees and @tigsbitties amiright (muffled face down on the floor)

more (some unsettling things) beneath the cut :3

(Image 3 is my favorite sequence from an animation for TTTAAAC I’ve been working on, so here it is just in case I never finish </3, image 4 is me thinking about Mob’s house. If. That makes sense.)

OH MAN. OH MAN OH MAN. this fic has altered my brain chemistry in a way that has doctors baffled and leaves tragedy in its wake!!!!!!!!! Absolutely a masterpiece I’ve reread it 3 times now and every time I notice a new detail, there’s just SO MUCH CARE put into it. I think I could write an essay about every page of this fic LMAO it honestly blows me away, huge kudos to everyone who was a part of the project!!!!

Especially the multimedia aspects, they were so much fun to find and in some cases decode (Scared the SHIT outta myself with Breathe I think it’s one of my favorites). the youtube videos were so cool as well

Realizing a third of the way in that things will never get better was such a gut wrenching experience, and by the time I realized just how deep the hole Mob dug himself into was it was absolutely too late for anything to happen (the end of act 1 was horrific in the most amazing way. So many things stuck with me: the state Reigen was left in compared to how he was, Ritsu’s “surgery”, Dimple losing his best friend, Shou’s report to the police, Minori’s conversation (if you can call it that) with Mob?? Bone. Chilling.

One of the parts that has been sitting in my gut is Reigen’s fall, where he starts to ramble through fragments of old times. I genuinely thought he was calling out to Mob until just as the same time Mob did I recognized the words and it hit me like a HAMMER. I don’t know how to put it into words but Reigen rambling on like a broken record tore me apart, and then it gets WORSE. I only realized on my second read that the intro of the fic. (Correct me if I’m wrong) IS REIGENS PERSPECTIVE OF MOB SEVERING HIS TENDONS???? Holy fuck. Holy FUCK. The vague semblance of consciousness written there is so deeply unsettling I’m absolutely OBSESSED with it. ESPECIALLY THE FACT THAT EVEN IN THAT STATE HE STILL WANTS MOB TO BE HAPPY (the cheer ^^ mob bit) and idk if I’m interpreting right (this is gonna be so embarrassing if I’m not) but him recognizing the filthy jacket as well. Taking me OUT. AND. AND THE FACT REIGEN NEVER SPEAKS AGAIN AFTER THAT?????? (I could be wrong oops)

The mental states of every character in the fic are written so chillingly well. I can understand how Mob spirals, the anger and grief Tome feels, Shou's spite and anger, Teruki's conflict, Dimple's loss of his best friend, Serizawa's waning optimism, I can't name every character in this fic but they are ALL characterized so well. There's no needless conflict that make them OOC, there's a reason behind every little tragedy building upon themselves and creating a giant disaster that deeply affects the entire cast. Not to mention how its not just the loss of Reigen and Ritsu, but the loss of Mob too. If they were to have died on impact, its unsettling to think that things may have turned out better than this.

There’s a lot of things I wanna say that would basically be restating the fic (dimple losing his best friend, teru shaving, and the irony of ritsu’s powers being taken away by mob) so instead of writing 20 more paragraphs I’ll ask some questions I’ve been mulling over (ofc yall don’t have to answer if it’s revealing too much or smth)

Does Mob actually end up getting investigated or arrested? The formatting of the social media posts and texts makes them seem as if they're evidence and so does the ongoing "interview?" with Shou throughout the fic

In the party, is Reigen saying he doesn't like citrus a reference to the lemon sour :eyes:

I'm probably missing something but im curious about the metaphor around Reigen and a stray cat (hair clinging to Mob's clothes, comparing him to a stray cat finding a place to die, comparing him to a cat outside Serizawa's door)

If I'm not wrong and the "glitchy" sections at the beginning and end of the fic are Reigen and Ritsu's povs respectively, is their mind constantly like that or is it just in the specific circumstances where they have a small burst of consciousness?

last (thats a lie im definitely drawing more fanart in the future) but not least, some notes from when I was re-reading

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Everything I Never Told You

(Part four)

Series masterlist

Warnings: Angst (which has become pretty much the default.) Uh, idk, angst. Angst. I don't wanna spoil anything, so Imma cut the warnings short. Enjoy!

You fall into a pattern. Every day, you wake up with dawn, have breakfast, train all day, and go to bed exhausted. Jake takes care of teaching you, of ensuring you become one of the people, that you are aware of the customs, that you follow them. He teaches you to ride a banshee, to use a bow and arrow, to walk, to jump, to hunt. He helps you with the Na'vi language, aids you with the rituals. Basically, he's with you all day, teaching you, helping you...

Days, weeks, months pass. You don't know how many; if you're honest, you don't care. It's not like you have a deadline, it's not like you have anywhere to be. But you're aware that time is going by and that your memory hasn't changed.

If anything, it's blurrier than in the beginning.

The only moment you felt like you remembered something was when Jake touched you in the tent, when he kissed your neck, when he kept leaning toward you on the top of a Hallelujah Mountain as eclipse fell around you. But now, with this new routine, you simply feel far away from him, as if you can't see eye to eye. As if something between you has cracked, fallen away and left barren, impenetrable terrain where that odd...beforeness used to be.

“Elbow up,” Jake corrects, softly pushing your elbow higher as you pull the string of your bow taut, your arrow aimed directly towards a tree with a target painted on it. “Back straight.” He pushes you to square your shoulders. “And focus.”

You want to scoff at yourself. Focus. Focus when he's standing behind you, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck? Focus when you can't stop thinking about what he said that late afternoon: I've missed you so much...? Focus when you feel, deep within your soul, that the only way for you to remember anything is if he shows you whatever connection the both of you had before you died?

Focus.

You release the arrow. It whooshes through the air, whistling gently, and lands on the outer edge of the target. You sigh at yourself.

“It's alright,” Jake reassures you as he grabs another arrow from a leather case on the ground. “You're learning. All you need is practice.”

You can feel frustration bubbling within you.

Practice. Focus. Elbow up. Mind clear. Deep breaths. Step quietly. Walk swiftly.

So many orders, so many little details to follow, so many things that only anger you and make your memory more of a grim, messy fog than it already is.

Jake hands you the other arrow. “Again,” he instructs. “This time, feel the arrow. Feel where it's going, where it has to land. Focus on the arrow, on your body. Control your movements, your strength, your aim.”

You try again.

And again, and again, and again. By the time you're done, the tree is littered in arrows, and not a single one has landed in the center.

You slump to the ground, mentally and physically exhausted, pissed, frustrated, and on the verge of tears.

Jake sits beside you. As you rub at your eyes with vexation, he softly says your name.

“What?” you snap. “What do you want to tell me now? That I just need to keep trying? That I'll get it eventually? That I belong here?” You sneer. “It's been days, Jake. Entire weeks of training, of trying, of sweating and crying and bleeding just to get it to work, but nothing does. The more I do this, the more I feel my memory slip away. I don't know who I am, or why I'm here, and this isn't helping me at all.”

He remains silent. You can feel his gaze on you. “Do you want to leave?” he questions, his voice soft and quiet, gentle and broken.

You feel tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You don't know what you want. You just want to understand who you were—who you are—and you wish it wasn't this complicated.

Maybe I should've just stayed dead.

The thought sends terror through you, enough for you to start sobbing harshly.

You sense Jake reach for you, his arms ready to wrap around you, but you pull away from his touch.

“I—Yes, I want to leave,” you reply with a whisper. “I just...I need to leave.”

You don't risk glancing at Jake. You can already imagine the look of hurt he has drawn in his eyes.

-

Crack.

Jake is convinced it was audible—it must've been, he's sure he heard it. The final break to his heart.

This is it. This is what's going to kill me.

Worse than a knife to the chest, worse than breathing water into his lungs, worse than any injury he's every had.

You leaving, voluntarily, because you don't feel any hope here.

Because you can't find the home you once did.

Jake wants to cry. He wants to throw himself at your feet and beg you to stay, beg you not to leave him, beg you to keep bringing meaning to his life.

But it's your decision, and he will respect that.

He keeps his composure, takes deep breaths to try and relax his shattering heart. His ears droop, his tail falling to the ground, hopeless. “Okay,” he says, hoping his voice isn't wobbly from how thick the knot in his throat has grown. “I'll take you back.”

You both hop onto his ikran. You've learned to do it on your own, refusing to let him pick you up and place you on the animal. You grab onto him lightly, a barely-there touch remains where you once hugged around his waist and rested your head to his shoulder.

As the ikran flies over the thick foliage, cool wind rushes past the two of you, breezing in the gap between your bodies, making the distance that much more noticeable. It's as if your bodies are a mere demonstration of that canyon between your souls, that unfixable bridge, that torn connection...

Jake's heart keeps tearing itself into pieces, rolling into itself like a wounded creature, baring its weak, useless teeth to the world in hopes of scaring all threats off.

His heart has tried so hard to keep itself safe, and then you showed up and you hurt him. Twice, you've left him. Twice, he's lost you. Twice, you've abandoned his heart to the unbearable pain of loss and grief. And yet, he finds himself loving you more with each passing day.

Jake leads the ikran to the small clearing in the forest where your tomb lies. The creature lands on the soft ground, clicking its beak softly.

Clouds are carrying over the sky, darkening the day even more, threatening to burst tears over your loss as if Eywa herself were mourning your departure.

You jump off the ikran, your face sad and tear-stained, your ears folded against your head.

Jake wants to hop off his animal, hug you one last time, take the chance to finally tell you how much he loves you. But he doesn't. He knows he can't say goodbye to you again, he can't hug you one more time, can't touch you anymore—otherwise, he'll never be able to let you go.

Your eyes rise to meet his. “I'm sorry your plan didn't work,” you murmur. “I...I wish it would've.”

His heart tears itself even more.

“Me too,” he replies silently.

What's the difference, he wonders, between waking up without you and watching you walk away from him in real life? They both feel like death.

You sigh softly. Without another word, you turn away from him, walking into the foliage, disappearing amongst the bushes and trees where he'd first seen you appear.

Jake remains where he is for a long time, simply sitting atop his ikran, staring at the place you'd been standing in moments ago.

Eventually, he has to leave.

Eventually, he has to wake up.

His ikran takes off, dashes through the air. Once he's safely up in the sky, away from curious ears and peering eyes, he cries. He cries for you, allowing the wind to push his tears off his cheeks. He sobs as his soul breaks into pieces, cutting into his skin, making his heart feel raw and bruised.

The rain comes not long after. It mixes with his tears, adds to the pain. The cold rain makes his body even colder, the ghost feeling of you against his back unable to bring him any comfort.

He flies through the rain until he can feel his ikran become exhausted. Only then does he decide to return to the camp.

What's the difference between waking up without her and watching her walk away from me in real life?

There is no difference, he decides. I lose her either way.

-

The rain is falling down hard, the sky pouring as you finally reach headquarters. At first, the soldiers posted to the first watch raise their rifles at you, shouting at each other, but when you lift your hands in surrender and state your name, they let you in.

A check-up later, a warm bath, some clean clothes, and a small individual room in the infirmary, and you still feel...empty.

“They took me,” you'd lied. “Held me for days, captive. I found some clothes of theirs, stole them, ran off before they could realize it.”

But how untrue that was. You'd given yourself to the people, willingly joined their lives, their clan, their reality. And still, you felt nothing. You'd gotten nowhere. You were right where you started, an empty shell of a person that once existed.

That other you...she'd blossomed, like the gorgeous flowers in the jungle, bright and colorful, peaceful and adored by all. And who were you now? Blackened petals, dry from too much sun or soggy from too much rain. Dead either way. Empty. All color lost, all charm disappeared, all adoration only a shadow of what it once was.

You lay in your cot, staring up at the plain ceiling.

You were the best.

And who am I now? You wonder. If I was the best, how can I pretend to outdo myself? Or to even go back to what I was?

You force yourself to sleep. You have nightmares, mixes of your reality and your fears. Jake's touch ghosts over your skin, people are shooting all around you, you're falling off an ikran...

And suddenly, a blinding flash of light. You blink and you're standing elsewhere, away from the chaos and destruction and death of whatever was happening.

It's nighttime. The sky a dark black, stars everywhere, the moons visible. Plants glow all around you, little creatures chitter softly. For a moment, you're confused, lost. But then you realize where you are.

You're standing in that clearing in the forest, the same one where you saw Jake for the first time.

As you slowly walk toward your tomb, you find yourself staring at Jake's back as he sits in front of your headstone, murmuring unintelligibly.

You watch form a distance, eye the way his back is hunched, the way his ears are folded backward, his droopy tail resting beside him.

You can't make out what he's saying, can't understand him, but you can hear his tone. Melancholy, broken, soft sobs interrupting every other word. His shoulders shake and he covers his face with his hands, crying.

You want to walk over to him, to comfort him, to do something to push his pain away. But you dare not. You chose to left. Why are you playing with his emotions? You can't go back only to leave again. Wasn't dying and leaving him once enough? Did you truly have to do it again?

Guilt rushes over you, feeling like a river is flowing into your lungs, making you feel like you're drowning.

You startle awake, body shaking, tears on your cheeks.

It's fine, you tell yourself, it was just a dream. Nothing more. Just a nightmare.

-

Jake is sitting in front of your headstone again. He couldn't sleep, and he didn't know where else to go. So he's here, talking to you...trying to, at least. Talking to the person you used to be.

Branches and leaves rustle not far from where he sits, and someone walks out from between the foliage.

Neytiri. Her eyes are focused on Jake as she approaches, and he hastily pushes his tears away when he sees her.

“She left,” she states, sitting beside him.

He sighs softly. “Yes,” he replies, voice shaky.

“What happened?” she asks.

“She...she felt like this wasn't helping her find herself, so she decided she wanted to return to the Sky People,” Jake answers, clearing his throat to steady his voice.

Neytiri sighs. “And you let her go?”

Jake glances at her, confused. “She-she wanted to leave. Of course I had to let her...Who am I to force her to stay?”

Neytiri whacks him on the head. “Skxawng,” she accuses. “Why are you giving up with so much ease? You mourned her for years, Jakesully. And now that the Great Mother has returned her, you let her slip from your fingers.”

“She wanted to leave,” Jake insists, confused. “It wasn't helping her remember anything.”

Neytiri whacks him on the head again. “The problem is not that she wasn't remembering. The problem is that you two haven't looked for what can help her memory. You've been training and and teaching her, and that is good, it is part of her becoming one of the people; but you haven't sought out things that make her remember. Have you taken her to the places you two used to visit often? Have you told her stories of who she was? Have you tried introducing her to her past life? Or have you simply tried to drag her through this new life, hoping, by some miracle from Eywa, she remembers everything?”

Jake folds his ears back, ashamed. “No,” he mumbles. And right there, it's like he realizes how stupid he's been.

Skxawng, he snaps at himself. How could he not think of that? In your tent, and then on the top of that mountain, when he'd touched you, pulled you close...he'd felt something and he'd known you'd felt it, too. He could see recognition flashing in your eyes, could sense you allowing your walls to crumble for him. And he'd ignored it. He'd been so afraid of scaring you off, of pushing you away, that he'd kept himself at a distance and, by doing so, stumped your memory.

The first time you two had gone through this—through his entire time in the Avatar program and his process of becoming one of the Omaticaya—you'd been there. You'd been by his side every single step of the way. That was what you needed. That's why this wasn't working. You needed him by your side, and not only teaching you, but also behaving the same way he always had. By helping you with everything, flirting with you, treating you as kindly and friendly as he could. By showing you he loves you, and never letting you forget it.

But it's too late now. You're gone, probably already back at headquarters, far away from him. And he doubts you'll ever return.

“What do I do?” he asks Neytiri, desperate, broken eyes rising up to hers.

“You pray to Eywa, asking the Great Mother for one more chance to right your wrongs,” she responds with ease. “And this time, Jakesully, do not give up on your girl.”

------

Days pass.

Another check-up, breakfast, orders for you to rest. You don't care about anything, you're just glad they don't have you training or being interrogated about what happened.

You don't feel a thing. You lay on your cot, staring at the ceiling, knowing there's a part of you missing and hating that you can't get it back.

No one visits you except the nurse who occasionally shows to check your vitals and see if you need anything. No one else cares about you, no one else has even worried for you in this time that you've been gone.

But the Omaticaya people...

They'd mourned you. They'd been overjoyed when they saw you again. They'd been kind and patient, and they'd been constantly checking in on you, worrying for you, showing you they cared.

Why had you come back?

So what if I wasn't remembering anything? You scoff at yourself. I'd rather not know who I am and be surrounded by people who care, than to find myself and be surrounded by jackasses who barely even recognize me.

But to go back...to put yourself through that again, through all that training and all those custom practices and rituals, to think there's hope only to sink into desperation and frustration...It's too much. You don't think you can handle that amount of stress ever again. You can't be faced with the fact that you will never be able to remember who you were. It's too much pain, leaves you feeling emptier than you had in the beginning.

What about Jake?

Your heart soars at the thought. Jake. Jake with his ridiculous smile, his bashful little ears, his nervous tail. Jake with his stupid grin, his smooth laughs, his kind personality. Jake with the little touches he places on you while teaching you to use a bow, or when he helps you jump from tree to tree. Jake in your tent, when he'd hugged you, kissed you, whispered in your ear. Jake on top of the mountain, inching closer, pupils so dilated, you could only see a strip of amber on the outside. Jake. Jake and that feeling of before, like he's the only answer to everything, like only he can help you.

But can he? If it didn't work all these months, why would it work now?

I gotta take a chance, you decide. I have to risk it. What am I going to do here, rotting away in a cot, unloved, ignored, forgotten? I can at least try to find a family in the Omaticaya.

------

Night falls. Your nurse says goodnight, tells you she'll show at midnight to check up on you.

You nod, smile, thank her with empty words.

You count to a hundred after she leaves, and then you get up. You're dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and a pair of khakis, big black combat boots waiting under your bed.

You grab a knife you'd retrieved from your shared dorm earlier that day, and you hide it in the waistband of your pants. You pick the boots up, walking out of the nurse's ward, into the dark hall. You move as swiftly and quietly as you can, trying to remember all the stealth Jake has been teaching you.

You reach the exit, push the door open and quietly step out into the fresh Pandora night.

You keep to the shadows, ensuring to stay out of the line of sight of those who are on watch. You slide under helicopters, behind cargo boxes, past ATVs and entire shipments of weapons—the few that have made it to the base without being intercepted by the Omaticaya.

You can see the chain-linked fence not far from you, only a few feet and a quick climb and you'll be on the other side, free.

Your heavy boots are still in your hand, your ears attentive to the slightest sound. So you hear it. Light footsteps, following yours, getting closer and closer.

A soldier, trying to stop you? Someone about to drag you back to the nurse's ward?

When you hear the other person is close enough, you abruptly turn around, swinging your boots at them, hissing and baring your teeth.

The other person ducks away from your boots, rendering their hands up. “Whoa, whoa, it's okay. It's okay. It's just me.”

Jake.

He stands in front of you, eyes scanning over you, his ears folded back.

“Jake,” you exhale softly, relieved to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder back at the base, ensuring you two are alone. His eyes return to yours. “I was going to break in to get you out, but, uh, you kinda made this easier for me.”

You smile gently. “I was going to go back,” you tell him. You shake your head. “This place is horrible. It doesn't agree with me at all. And, even if around the Omaticaya I don't remember who I was, it's better than being here all on my own.” You pause, consider saying it, are about to confess, and at least I'll be with you, when the lights to the runway flash on.

An alarm starts blaring, people are yelling, and suddenly Jake is pulling you by the hand, to the fence. He drags you behind a few abandoned containers, rusted and rotting from the humidity, and you find a small opening in the fence.

He helps you through it before sliding out himself, and then you two are running through the forest, branches scratching at your arms and legs and face. You didn't get the chance to put your boots on, and you really don't need them, so you drop them on the floor, leaving them there.

Jake runs beside you, occasionally grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you in a different direction. You suppose he knows where he's going, he seems like he does, so you trust him.

It's a long while before the two of you slow to a stop. Far away from headquarters, finally free.

You lean against a tree, breathing heavily, adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Jake glances over at you, his chest rising and falling with his thick breaths. Your eyes lock onto each other, refusing to look away.

You don't know if it's the adrenaline or the relief or the fact that you're finally with Jake again, but your entire body is surging with this ridiculous feeling of before.

Your skin tingles, your tail swishes from side to side, excited, and your heart speeds up in your ribcage.

The tension stretches in the air, feeling like a palpable entity that urges you toward Jake.

Already, you know you can't stop it from happening.

-

Jake's heart is in his ears, but not because of your escape.

You're looking at him with those big, sharp eyes, you pupils wide, your ears folded against your head.

He can feel something inside of him pulling him to you, as if you were an irresistible force, a natural phenomenon he cannot seem to stay away from, nor would he ever want to.

He steps toward you as you lean against the tree, slowly, carefully, gauging your reaction. He cups your face with a hand, places his other hand on your waist. You invite him in. Your arms wrap around his neck, your eyes falling to his lips, and he swears whatever measly ounce of self-control he had evaporates.

He leans in slowly, afraid you'll dissipate into thin air, and ghosts his lips over yours. You let out a little gasp, a small breath that sends shivers down his body. His grip on you tightens and he gently places his lips on yours.

Your kiss is quaint, careful, sweet and intoxicating and, fuck, Jake could die a happy man with knowing what your lips feel like.

Your arms pull him closer, pressing his chest against yours. You open your mouth, letting his tongue in, allowing it to trace over your gentle lips.

You shudder against him, your skin pricking with goosebumps at his touch. He tries to pull you closer, to hold you tight, hoping, begging, praying this isn't another one of those dreams of his, that he won't wake up to realize you're not real.

His lips leave yours, kissing your jaw, moving to your neck, right over your pulse, licking the skin there.

You let him. You let him kiss and lick and bite his way down to your collarbone, until his mouth finds the edge of your shirt and he glances at your face. His hands sneak under your shirt, caressing the skin of your torso, and he whispers, “Can I take it off?”

You sigh softly and nod. “Please.”

He is careful with the way he peels your shirt off, raising it over your head, helping you out of it. He tosses it to the ground, forgotten.

He couldn't care less about the shirt right now.

You stand before him, bare, beautiful, perfect.

He leans towards your chest, placing a soft kiss on your collarbone before moving his mouth to your breast. He kisses the soft swell of it, traces his tongue over your nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking on it.

You let out a shaky exhale, your hands moving to his head, tangling your hands in his hair as he moves to your other breast and pays it the same attention.

You are perfect. Beautiful. Your body almost as breathtaking as your mind, as your heart, as your soul.

You are his end. His undoing. Everything that breaks him, everything that holds him together. You are his moons and his sun, the blood in his veins, the thoughts in his mind. You are everything to him, and he's glad your life intertwined with his; where would he be otherwise?

He kisses the valley between your breasts, lowering himself as his mouth trails down the center of your stomach. He kneels before you, his goddess divine, and gently nips at the edges of your pants.

You help him pull them down. You step out of them and kick them away.

Jake's heart stops beating in his chest as he looks up at you, naked. His hands hold onto your hips, his lips kiss your thighs, your lower stomach, admiring every inch of you.

Your breathing grows ragged, he can hear it, as he softly pulls one of your thighs over his shoulder.

Keeping his eyes on yours, he licks up your slit and then traces soft circles around your clit. You gasp gently, hips softly bucking against his tongue.

Your taste is sweet, addictive. He knows he'll never get enough of this—of you. He'll never grow tired of you, never have too much, never be satiated with what you give him. He will always need you, always want you, never take you for granted.

He slides one of his hands up your thighs, gently pushing his long, thick middle finger into you. You moan gently, urging him on, as he adds his ring finger, stretching you open.

His tongue focuses on your clit, sucking on it, flicking his tongue against it, making your body jerk and tremble.

He eats you out slowly, adoringly, savoring every single drop of you. He's almost afraid he'll never get to do this again, to love you, touch you, hold you, and he wants to commit every single detail to memory.

He curls his fingers, hitting that spot within you that makes you gasp and jerk, and he doesn't let up until you're shaking.

His tongue traces your clit, circling it, his eyes watching your face for your reactions. One of his hands massages your thigh as it rests on his shoulder, his fingers digging into the plump skin there.

Your hands fall to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging at the thick locks. He groans, the sound making you whimper against him.

Your juices drip down his chin, coating him in your scent, and he can feel his cock—already hardened—start to leak precum from the sensitive tip.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean of your arousal, before he lowers his mouth so that his tongue can sneak into your sopping entrance.

You groan, grinding your hips on his face as he nuzzles his nose into your clit, his tongue maneuvering in and out of your warm entrance.

“There,” you gasp, fingers tugging at his hair. “There. Right there.”

He chuckles against you, making your hips buck, your legs jerk. He keeps your thighs spread open, his calloused hands kneading into the soft flesh.

He looks up at you through his eyelashes, his amber gaze famished, needy, wholly lustful.

He can feel the tremors that start washing through you, shaking you, as you moan and whine, begging Jake to let you reach your orgasm.

“A while longer, baby,” he says against your pussy, his words spilling right onto your skin. “Hold a while longer for me, okay?”

You try to hum your agreement between your gasps and moans as your body writhes beneath his touch and swift licks.

You keep your orgasm at bay, holding it back for as long as possible, trying to stay away from the burning ache that ripples through you.

Your body is quaking, your legs limp and boneless, your breathing constantly cut off by your loud, desperate moans.

“Fuck,” you cry. “Jake, I can't—Too much—!”

“Alright,” he says into you, “it's alright, baby. Go on, come for me.”

You gasp, your orgasm crashing through you, making your breath get caught in your throat. You cry Jake's name, your hips jerking, trying to pull away from his mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm.

“That's my girl,” he praises softly, finally pulling his face away from your cunt, placing a few kisses on your thighs, softly bitting the skin there. “Such a good girl for me. There you go.”

You're breathing heavily, your body falling limp.

Softly, Jake pulls you down to him, leading you to straddle him. You kiss him, breathless, making his heart skip and his cock twitch against you. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck, your tongue traces over his bottom lip, your hips starting to grind down on his.

He groans into your mouth, his hands gripping onto your hips with so much force, he's afraid he'll bruise you.

One of your hands slithers down his chest, caressing the muscles there, before they dip lower, lower, lower, until you can push his loincloth to the side and wrap your fingers around his long, throbbing cock.

He gasps softly, the sound drowning into your kiss.

“We don't have to do this,” he tells you, pulling away from the kiss. “If you don't want to, we don't have to do this.”

“I want to do this,” you tell him as you kiss his neck, licking over his adam's apple, making him shudder under you. “Do you?”

He chuckles, but it's a thick, husky sound, a groan of pleasure and want. “Fuck, you've no idea,” he replies. You bite his neck, and he can feel your smile against his skin. His ears fold back and he exhales softly as you lick the spot over.

You guide his cock to your cunt, running the tip over your clit. He can feel how wet and warm you are, how you drip down his length.

Then, you lead his cock to your entrance and slowly lower yourself onto him, all the way until the tip touches your cervix.

You moan gently, fingers digging into his shoulders, and he groans, his hands moving to your ass and massaging the flesh.

For a moment, he considers making tsaheylu, offering you his queue and explaining what it means, but he hesitates for a second too long, and you start gyrating your hips, moaning softly. The pleasure overcomes him, and the idea dissipates, leaving behind a sense that he's swallowing down yet another thing he wants to say to you.

Jake kisses you, his hands guiding you up and down, your cunt tight around him. He cannot get enough of the sensation of your warm pussy, of your arousal as it drips down to his lower stomach and across his thighs.

You slide one of your hands down to your clit as you ride him, and he glances down, watching as you touch yourself.

He groans, a guttural sound that makes you shudder against him.

He moves one of his hands from your hip to your pussy, and grabs your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and placing a few kisses on your knuckles before wrapping your arm around his neck. Then, he returns his hand down between your bodies and uses his thick, rough thumb to draw tight circles around your clit, adding pressure until you're whining and jerking against the sensation.

Jake sighs against your neck before chuckling lowly, a sliver of his cockiness shining through. “Come on, baby, let me make you come again, hm? You gonna come on my cock for me, babygirl?”

“Yeah,” you mewl in response. “Fuck—Yes.”

He keeps his pace, thrusting up into you and circling your clit, both movements making you tighten around him with each passing moment.

He can tell you're close by the sounds you make, by how you clench his cock, by your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Don't stop,” you beg, breathless, closing your eyes and throwing your head back. “Please-please, don't stop.”

“I won't, baby,” he promises. “I'll give you everything you want, girl. I'll fuck you for as long as you want, however you need me.”

Your legs go limp, your grinds growing sloppy and weak, but Jake keeps up the pace, ensuring to push you to your edge.

You gasp as your orgasm washes over you, your body going taut for a second before the pleasure hits you and your release overcomes you. You exhale as you start climbing down from your high, but Jake keeps rutting into you, making the pleasure spark within you again.

“Jake-Jake—”

“I know, baby,” he says through clenched teeth. “I know it's too much. But can I come inside you? Can I fill this pretty pussy, girl?”

You whine, overstimulated, overly sensitive, but you nod. “Please, please, please,” you reply, each word accentuated with Jake's thrusts and rubs on your clit.

Jake can feel his release creeping up on him, like hot water rushing over his body, threatening to make him faint from the intensity.

Your fingers tangle in the hair at the back of his head, tugging softly, as you moan his name.

Jake groans. Fuck, he didn't know he liked his hair pulled until you did it.

He's close, so close. He can feel the incrementing sensations, the pleasure becoming almost too much. He can feel your hot pussy around his aching cock, one of your hands digging its nails into his shoulder, your other hand tugging his hair, your ass bouncing on his thighs.

And then your lips—your plump, soft, wet lips land on his neck, kissing him, licking him. Your tongue traces a path down to his collarbone and you bite him, hard, making him let out a low moan.

His orgasm is too close. He thrusts harder, faster, the fingers rubbing your clit grow uncoordinated, clumsy. Your cunt tightens around him, knocking the breath from his lungs.

“Jake, please,” you moan, desperately trying to match the movements of your hips to his desperate thrusts. “Please, I need you to fill me up. Fuck—please!”

You come again. For a third time. Whining and thrashing, body spasming against Jake. And he feels your juices, thick and sticky, gush over his cock. And it's the last straw for him.

“Fuck,” Jake growls, his orgasm finally rippling through him. He closes his eyes, folds his ears back, exposing his canines as he hisses softly, the pleasure so intense, it's almost painful. Almost.

His cum spurts inside of you, filling you, and slowly begins to drip out of you, down his length, mixed with your own arousal.

You're both breathing heavily, bodies growing limp, exhausted from the pleasure. He helps you up, allowing his softening cock to slip out of you. His cum pools out of you, and he gathers it with his fingers before lifting them to his mouth and sucking his digits clean.

You lie on the soft grass beside him, your chest heaving, your skin slick with sweat.

Jake lies beside you, brushing a few strands of hair off your face. “Y'alright, baby?” he asks softly, placing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Yes,” you reply, voice a little hoarse from the sex. “Just worn out.”

He pulls you toward him, cradling your naked body against his.

I love you.

The words echo in his mind, surging from his heart up his throat, dancing on the tip of his tongue—

“Thank you for helping me out of headquarters,” you say quietly, a little drowsy. “You didn't have to come looking for me, and you did. So...thank you. It-it meant a lot to me, Jake.”

“It was no biggie,” he replies, trying to dismiss your flattery even though your words make his heart race, his breath quicken. “I...I had to get you back.”

There's a small pause before you question, “Why?”

Because I love you.

“I, uh...” He licks his lips nervously, summoning the courage to say those words. “I...I just couldn't...leave you there. I woulda missed you too much,” he half-jokes.

Fucking idiot. Just tell her.

“I really appreciate it, Jake,” you say again. “Thank you.”

Jake can feel you dozing off in his embrace, your breathing growing slow and steady. He glances at your beautiful face, at the little luminescent freckles across your skin, at your long eyelashes, your sweet lips...

You're so fucking perfect...

I love you.

He falls asleep without saying it. He figures, I've kept it quiet for years, what's one more day without telling her?

@spicycloudsalad @arminsgfloll @mashiromochi

[hoeforalbedo]

Oo I wanna get in on your event please! I’m a big fan but I usually just lurk on your writing

Character- Kaeya (Genshin Impact)

Zodiac- Sagittarius

Initial- D (I know this looks like an Initial D joke but I promise that’s my initial, I just have the one)

Deck- Asmodeus

About me- I’m known as the “scary dog” of my friend group. Whenever any of my friends gets hurt, they come to me because they know I can get them effective revenge. It doesn’t matter if I get hurt along the way as long as no one hurts my friends. That’s not to say I go around attacking people and angsting though. I’m a chill person, I’ve just got a lot of rage inside. I usually tend to crack a lot of jokes when I’m with my friends, both in the form of pranks and telling jokes. I don’t like meeting new people a lot because I get nervous around strangers (which unfortunately usually looks like I’m angry, I have a little RBF), so I usually stick to hanging out with people I’m comfortable with.

(I just hit enter once idk why it’s like 4 lines down) I feel like since I picked the sexual deck that I should give you at least a taste of kinks I like but if that doesn’t matter then just skip this part. I like primal play, biting, hunting/being hunted (both ends), bloodplay, fear play, and CNC.

A/N: woah wait- I have fans!!??? I am so thankful omg- Well I hope I wrote this well into your expectations and you can tell me if you want me to add anything else. Lord Asmodeus was so excited to do this one!! The cards speaks for itself so here's what you got.

"I want to taste you again, like a secret or a sin."

"Are you flirting or starting a fight?"

"The deeper you dig the darker it gets."

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, cursing, tell me if I missed any.

The last line can go many ways but in this sense I feel that it's a warning to people to back the fuck away. They shouldn't go searching for something without being on guard for what they will witness.

Kaeya is definitely one of those people who likes to test other people's limits and he especially likes to get under your skin. Let's say you are part of the Knights of Favonius. Nothing gets you more angered than to see him take one of your knights only to bring them back injured. You always make sure to take good care of your team but Kaeya treats them indifferently.

"Relax, sweetheart. We're knights. It's normal for us to get hurt."

He's absolutely so lenient and doesn't give a fuck if the world is ending. He purposely annoys you and he plays as if he unintentionally does it.

Now besides mere annoyances, there's not much reason that you hate him. He's just there and his mere attitude and carelessness irks you. Not to say you are nowhere near close to the way he acts. Sure you can be carefree and careless at times but you know when it's time to get serious.

Even if you hate him with a passion, why is it you can't stop thinking of him? Why is it that sometimes you want to kiss him and make him shut up for once. "I want to slap that sexy smirk off your face."

"Whoa there, darling. I can't seem to tell if you're flirting or starting a fight."

"How about you use that damn brain of yours," You retort and suddenly your hands are all over him, kissing him as if your life depends on it.

"I didn't lock the door," He whispers as he strips you of your clothing.

"You don't seem to care either," You say between deep breaths. Once all clothes are off and gone, you are both back to ravaging each other like savage beasts. It's funny how hatred can turn to lust. The lust can make you turn into a fool and suddenly you're begging for Kaeya's cock. Never has he imagined to live the day and it'd forever be ingrained in him.

"I love seeing you so desperate but if you want it so bad, then I'm in control. Okay, sweetheart?" His pet names never seize to make you flustered and for once you nod obediently. He has you bent over your desk, the look of your ass being enough to make his cock throb. "Are you sure you want to skip the fore-"

"Kaeya just please-" And maybe you shouldn't have skipped the foreplay for the stretch is so big and so good. You bite your bottom lip as the corners of your eyes tear up. How can you hate him if he feels so good?

Each thrust made your mind all fuzzy. The only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his dick deliciously plunging into your whole. It feels like you're going to go insane with how good it feels. You hate him even more for making you feel so good.

Even after your rendezvous, you couldn't stop thinking about the taste of pleasure that only he can give you. Admittedly, Kaeya is also addicted, not just by the way you feel but also by the way you willingly broke down your walls just to have a feel of him. He needed to see more and so at the latest of nights, he sneaked away to find you and have you once more.

"I want to taste you again, like a secret or a sin." You can't help but feel that having such feelings for him is forbidden. The hate you have for him runs deep in you but the way he feels is all too heavenly. Divine even.

[starwhore-spacetrash]

//idk wut this will be… maybe a series… maybe not… Takes place after Clone Wars S.5 E19 Barrisoka// Ashoka POV

I rolled over again, stretching my arms above my head before slamming them down on either side of me. I’ve been trying to sleep for hours now… but I can’t shake it. How could she do this to me? After everything we’d been through? She could have picked anyone to frame; why me?

Anger boils inside me. “It’s not the Jedi way…” I stop myself; I’m not a Jedi. In a span of 48 hours, I’d lost my Master, my rank, my family, my purpose… my best friend.

The anger melts away and leaves something deep… a dark hole that’s swirling inside me; I feel like I’m being swallowed up.

Oddly, leaving the Jedi provided me with more relief than I anticipated. Barriss’ words have been running in a loop in my mind since her impassioned confession yesterday. She claimed the Jedi were corrupt. “The Jedi have become an army fighting for the Dark side!” I could still see the conviction in her eyes, the desperation in her voice.

If only she would have told me how she felt. How would I have responded? I wasn’t honest with her, why should I expect her to share everything with me? Barriss was always the open one. Always so kind and thoughtful. She knew me better than anyone… so why would would she chose me as her mark? Why set me up? I thought we were friends, many times, I thought we were more.

I feel the tears burning my eyes. A week ago, I would have pushed them back. Emotions are not a friend of the Jedi. They cloud your judgment. They make you weak. But, I am no Jedi, so I let them fall. A tear for every conversation, every smile, every time we fought alongside each other… a tear for every dream I’d had.

“Ahhhhh!” I slam my feet on the ground beneath me. I can’t lie here anymore. I have to see her. I’ll make her explain this to me. I deserve an explanation; it’s the least she could offer me after the hell she’s put me through.

•••

It’s darker here than I expected. I guess keeping the higher profile prisoners hidden deep under the city is a great deterrent for those who would want to break them free. Even with my knowledge of the force, I wouldn’t want to try it. I’m just here to get answers and get out. I don’t think I can bear looking at Barriss any longer than I have too. I’m lost in my thoughts and I barely acknowledge the two guards coming towards me.

Of course there are guards… I knew that going in. What I didn’t consider was my recent lack of clearance.

“Halt,” a guard now has his hand on my wrist, “you aren’t allowed down here.”

“Yes, I am allowed here.” I say as I wave my hand in front of his face. “Yes, you are allowed here,” the two guards echo in unison.

“You will take me to the cell of Barriss Offee, former Padawan and traitor to the Republic.” The words taste bitter leaving my mouth, and I fight the nausea rising in me.

A moment passes, and I almost waiver in my resolve. I’ve always struggled with mind tricks; Master Yoda says it because my mind is never at peace… now is no different. Finally, the guard repeats, “We will take you to the cell of Barriss Offee, former Padawan and traitor to the Republic.” We walk swiftly through the narrow corridors before stopping in front of a black, reflective door.

I waive my hand, “You will give me the key card and go about your day.” They do as I say, and I brace myself for what lies behind the door. I briefly consider walking away. What if what she says only hurts me more? What do I hope to gain from this conversation? An apology? No. She can’t say anything that would change the past, but, part of me (maybe a foolish, naive part) still hopes for a future. I take a breath and raise the card to the door.

“I’ve said all I intend to say. Further interrogation will get you nowhere.” Barriss’ back was to the door, her voice dull and without it’s usual sweetness. “That’s unfortunate,” I said mirroring the chill in her tone, “I risked my freedom to give you the opportunity to explain yourself. Foolish of me to assume my closest friend would have a reason for such betrayal. My mistake.” I knew I was speaking, but when she turned, when her tired eyes met mine, I felt the ice melt away.

“A-Ashoka?” she rasped. Barriss slowly stood up, hands raised in front of her, like she was afraid I would attack. There was fear written across her face, and something more… something deeper etched into the crease of her eyebrow. “Why-why are you here? I have nothing else to tell the Jedi.”

I tried to respond, but my mind was racing. Barriss stared at me wide eyed, awaiting a response. She didn’t wear her normal hood or headpiece, her short brunette waves falling loosely around her face. She wore a grey jumpsuit, and I couldn’t help but note that it was the only time I’d seen her in something other than her normal, baggy robe. Her legs were long, and obviously muscular. How did I never notice how small her waist was? The jumpsuit hugged her body around her hips and chest the material being pulled tight and…“Control yourself, Snips, a Jedi controls their emotions, not the other way around.” I could here Anakins snide voice correcting me for letting my guard down.

I snapped back into the moment, meeting Barriss’ eyes. “I’m not here on behalf of the Jedi. In fact, I won’t be doing anything for them ever again.” I said dryly. I noted the confusion that flooded her face. “What do you mean? As a Padawan, everything you do is on behalf of the Jedi, whether you intend it or not.”

“I left the order, Barriss.” It was the first time I said it out loud, and it didn’t hurt as much as I anticipated. Not when I was telling her.

“You left the order! Why?! Being a Jedi was everything to you! Was it because of what I did? Will they not let you back in?” Tears were pooling in her eyes, and I saw her bottom lip begin to quiver; my eyes were immediately drawn to it and I could think of nothing but making it stop. “My plan failed, Ashoka. I never intended for it to go that far. I wanted you to be out of danger, I never anticipated that you’d run away. I thought you’d be safe in a holding cell while I enacted the rest of the plan. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” She crumpled before me, heaving sobs wracking her small body.

She almost killed me. She caused the Council to turn against me… my own Master doubted me. I lost everything because of her and I should be furious. I should be glad she is rotting in the dark cell, tortured by her guilt. But I’m not.

My feet begin moving before I realize what I’m doing. In one movement, I scoop her from the floor and carry her to the small cot in the corner of the room. Her body relaxes into mine and I hold her tightly as the sobs lessen into muffled whimpers.

Gently, I comb my fingers through her hair, allowing my thumb to graze her temple and ear. I whisper, “I know. I understand. I forgive you.” She releases an exhausted sigh, and I lean my cheek against her forehead. Her breathing slows and I realize she’s asleep. Asleep on my lap, in my arms, in a jail cell, not 48 hours since her lies had me on trial for treason.

I’m not even angry. Actually, this is the closest I’ve felt to peace in months. The war, the council, everything that weighed down my existence for as long as I can remember… none of it exists anymore. Right now, it’s just us. Just Barriss, against my chest, sleeping as if she hasn’t had rest in years, and that’s all that matters to me.

I know this won’t last. The guards will do rounds soon and I’ll have to sneak out. Or worse, Barriss will wake up and I'll be forced to articulate what I feel (something I'm not at all prepared to do at the moment). I push those thoughts away and pull her closer. If being a Jedi Master means I could never have this feeling, then walking away was the best decision I ever made.

•••

To be continued…

[youryanderedaddy]

Do you think the idea of ​​a yandere falling in love with a reader who is extremely lazy who doesn't even care when he is kidnapped by yandere

Fuck, this turned really fucking dark ooops. I wrote it as apathetic reader but... idk it got messed up ig

Tw: female reader, implied death, non - consensual touching, sadism, threats, depression, implied suicidal thoughts, possessive behavior, apathy

Well, this wasn't exactly how you pictured your Saturday evening to go. But taking into account how boring and empty your usual weekend routine was, this felt more like free entertainment than a terrific kidnapping scene.

 “I don’t get it” You exclaimed for the third time since you had woken up in that tiny stuffy room where it seemed like fresh air had never been more than a miracle. “Why am I here again?” You asked the tall dark figure towering over the broken-down bed you were currently laying on with your hands squeezed in harsh red bindings.The windows were tightened with metal locks and you couldn’t help but ask yourself whether they had been opened even once since the end of the Plague. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but the place really felt like a prison with no escape, and the lack of clear light didn’t help much with the gloomy atmosphere. You wondered whether you would actually die down here - not that it mattered anyways. 

“I told you already.“ The stranger growled at you, frustration thick in his deep voice. He took a step towards you and put his palms on the end of the shattered sheet you were covered with. You knew you were practically naked under the worn out fabric, and the worst part wasn’t the vulnerability of your nudity or even the threat of violence in your captor’s eyes - it was the unpleasent feeling of falling threads and cotton rags rubbing on your exposed thighs. “I took you away because you belong to me!“ The man screamed suddenly as he brought his white boney hands to his black hood and quickly pulled it down to reveal a sickly-thin face with defined jawline and cheekbones. The skin looked pale and unhealthy, almost blue in certain places - under his piercing gray eyes and around his thin dark lips. And especially on his neck (although there you could see many colours besides blue). You didn’t care enough to think about what may have caused it.

“You just saw my face.“ Your captor whispered in a way you supposed should have been eery but it only made you roll your eyes. The poor guy was trying hard to fit into the role of a crazy stalker and you were simply too tired to play into his little game. “Now that you can identify me to the cops I will never let you go!“ The man shouted, deranged, then laughed manically for what seemed to be hours. He giggled “villainously“ for quite some time before he broke his resistance and stole a glance at you, hopeful, desperate for a reaction, yearning to hear you beg or at least cry out in fear, just to be met with a pair of bored eyes and a yawn on your sweet full lips. The stranger couldn’t mask his anger and dissapointment anymore, and with a swift movement across the bed he had you pinned underneath him, completely still.

 “Don’t you get it?” The man mumbled under his breath and took his sharp silver knife out of his half - torn and patched pocket. He looked you dead in the eyes and pointed the blade to your neck, so close that you could feel its cold end lightly touching your flesh and taste the blood spilling from the cut. “You aren’t going home ever again.” The stalker lowered his head and ran his wet rough tongue all over your throat, causing icy shivers down your spine and absolutely no change in your calm expression. You were so sleepy you couldn’t wait for this to be over, one way or another. “I could do anything to you right now.” The strange added, searching for an ounce of emotion in your empty gaze, growing impatient by the second. “I could kill you.” He pronounced slowly through gritted teeth. “I could rape you, too.” Your captor purred as he placed a chaste kiss on your neck, then gripped your throat lightly. Still no fucking reaction. “Say something, dammit!” He finally broke down, crying out from the bottom of his heart. You signed, utterly exhausted. “Just get this over with so I can rest.” You replied at last, your voice low and raspy. You weren’t sure exactly what type of meaning you had put behind “rest”. You were just so tired - you couldn’t possibly think properly.

“You are nothing but a broken toy.“ The sadist uttered weakly, his tone filled with disgust and helplessness, the gray in his eyes fading away to pitch black. “You can’t even amuse me properly.” He grumbled in annoyance, totally defeated, and waited a few long seconds before moving his knife to your chest, over your breasts that were heaving rhythmically with each passing breath. He raised it above his head and you couldn’t help but admire the sight of his pale hands, the sparkling silver blade and the soft moonlight breaking through the window. "Goodnight, my love" The man whispered genlty and you closed your eyes, one word on your lips. 

“Finally.”

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

[yandere-sins]

How about a fairytale scenario? A prince/princess/royal is in love with a very uninterested darling who manages to run away and make a deal with a witch who turns them into a monster in an attempt to make their yandere leave them alone? Maybe the cure is true loves kiss but since they don’t love the yandere it never works? Idk I think it’s an interesting concept and it’s been stuck in my head for a while

Ooooh! I like that! Very good idea anon, thanks for sending it in ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“My Beloved!”

The prince’s voice made you flinch as it shook you from your nap. As good as you could, you heaved your giant head in the opposite direction from the door, pressing your snout to the cold stone wall. Its smell and temperature weren’t pleasant anymore, now that you were... well, whatever creature the witch had turned you into. Your heightened senses didn’t make it easier, now that you could smell every speck of mold and hear the scratching of tiny bug legs skittering through the stones.

The heavy, silver chains all over your body and limbs didn’t help either.

“We found a cure!” he claimed, his voice as sweet as honey, caring and hopeful, and yet so, so revolting since you knew the person behind it better than anyone else. It was easy to fool a kingdom with a sunny smile and encouraging speeches, but the one person he’d never trick again with his rotten personality was you.

Teeth clenched, you tried to ignore him, hoping he might be discouraged by seeing you unresponsive to his words. There had been too many potions, too many plants, he made you digest which were supposed to ‘help’ you, that you’d never want to even open your mouth anymore. You never even asked for his help; you just wanted him to leave you alone! When you hatched the plan of how to escape this fanatic, being recaptured by him and held in the dungeon, far away from anyone except the prince and the magicians he hired to ‘help’ you, wasn’t a part of it. You still blamed yourself that you hesitated to injure him worse than just breaking his arm when he found you. That you hesitated long enough for a bottled potion to hit you, bringing you down into a deep slumber and allowing them to bring you back to your personal hell that was the prince’s castle.

“My Beloved,” he repeated, this time in a tender whisper while he sank next to your disfigured body, a gentle hand coming down onto the fur of your front leg, caressing it comfortingly. “We’ve been wrong so many times...” he lamented, but you could hear the smile on his lips as he continued. “But finally, we know, and it’s no potion nor herb that will turn you back into a human.”

So what is it? you were inclined to ask, though you kept quiet. Just so you’d know what to avoid in the future.

“It’s a true love’s kiss,” he swooned, following it up with a deep sigh of longing. Your stomach churned as you heard his solution to your ‘problem’, but all you could muster was a haughty huff, thinking how you’d never love him. This wouldn’t work, you were already aware.

There was no way you could love the person that tore you from your family for his own amusement. Who humiliated you in front of other nobles so he could have some giggles, and yet, when you decided to run away from his maltreatment, chained you into his private room, sobbing into your lap of how he cannot live without you after keeping you there without food and water for days. What was real and what was fake about him was a thin line to discern, but you had been forced to stay long enough with the prince to not trust even one word of his. He’d try to suck up to you with presents and food, promising the world to you. And then, the moment you said you didn’t like what he did, he’d turn his back on this love he swore to harbor for you, punishing you and threatening to hurt your family too if you’d ever break his heart again.

It was then that you figured out he was lonely, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but be scared of his actions.

“You know there is no one else, no human nor monster, that adores you as much as I do. Thus, I will lift this curse from you, my Dearest! There isn’t anyone else who can do it. Right?”

Hearing his question made you not want to move your head in his direction all the more. But even with one hand, the prince knew where to touch for it to be uncomfortable. That damn spot under your throat made you flinch when you felt his fingertips drag over it, and you raised your head as far as the chain holding you down allowed. Growling at him didn’t concern the prince at all as he scooted closer, his hand falling to the side of your head, his face burying into the soft fur that covered all of your newly-obtained body.

Secretly, you wished that someone would come to save you from all this. Not particularly your new monstrous form, but rather, the prince and his doings. You wanted a real prince in shining armor to come and kiss you, whisk you away on his pretty, white steed. Never to be seen again. That would be your dream. This act and tragedy had been going on too long, and you feared that as it was, it would never end in a happy ending for you.

The prince kissed you between your eyes, observing if anything was happening for a few seconds before his lips proceeded down your snout. After every caress, he stopped, watching if anything changed. As you glanced briefly into his eyes, you saw the frustration grow. It would have been easier if it had worked - you had to admit - for both of you. Because every kiss more he had to watch fail, the more he grew unrestraint, his expression darkening and teeth clenching hard while his hand began to shake from frustration, or perhaps anger already.

“Why is it not working?” he asked as if he expected you to answer him. However, if it wasn’t a growl or whine, your vocal cords didn’t speak the same language anymore. Surely, there would have been a lot you would have told him if you could have opened your mouth and spoken. But this way, and much to your own surprise, he had to figure it out himself.

“Is it because you don’t love me?” he asked, fingers tangling into your fur harshly. “That’s what you said, right? That you don’t love me.”

A short, desperate laugh escaped him as he looked up and stared down at you with wide eyes. “It’s supposed to be a true love’s kiss, don’t you understand? Are you too stupid to even understand that? Do you want to stay like this, looking like a rotten mutt? Do you hate me so much?”

His questions were unanswered, even as he yanked hard at your fur, a stinging pain shooting through your face. “Answer me!” he demanded, screaming it into the void that was the dungeon where no one but you and him resided. “Ha... Hahaha...”

His laugh was muffled by his hand tearing away from you and instead clasping over his face, making him take a deep breath. “That’s okay. You’ll have a lot of time to learn to love me. Or you rot down here, it’s your decision.”

Standing up, the prince left you behind, a pitiful pile of meat and hair, chained to the ground by the most expensive chains he could buy from all the money he possessed. How much did it anger him, you wondered, that even though he had everything, he couldn’t have you?

“Don’t forget.” Glancing over his shoulder, the heavy doors slowly closed behind him. “You can be with me forever, or you can die here alone. No one mourns such a hideous creature when it’s gone. Only I can love you as you are now, but you lack choices. My darling Monster.”

With the prince disappearing together with the light of the torches, you were cast into the darkness reigning in your new home. Alone, pitiful, quiet. Restraint and captured as nothing more than the beast of a kingdom. It was the same darkness that never let you forget who and what you were.

Nothing. You were nothing without the prince who walked in the light while being the darkness himself.

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h)

a/n: hi everyone! this is a lil angsty piece i wanted to get up. i just want to say again how sorry i am for not getting anything up for the past two weeks, i’ve just been overwhelmed with some stuff for my classes, but i am starting to get back in the swing of things now. also, this is unedited as i was rushing to get it up in time. i do plan on posting something else tomorrow night and hopefully i’ll be posting pretty consistently from now on. also this does end kind of abruptly but i wanted to leave it like that because i’m a sucker for angst, with that being said i would be happy to write a part two if that’s something you’d be interested in. anyway, feedback and comments are appreciated as always and i hope you’re all having an amazing day/night. enjoy! - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: luke recounts his mistake and hopes he can patch things up with his always. 

warnings:  very brief mention of sex, cursing, mentions of alcohol, luke’s being an asshole, mention of pinching (idk), slight insecurity from the reader, lots of angst :( 

word count: 2.6k

Luke had always hated the quiet. That’s when his thoughts were the loudest. That must be why he had never really liked being alone with himself. 

Tonight in particular, his thoughts were practically screaming, one word over and over again. 

“Y/n”

For the past two years that name had acted as his most favorite word, one that he would utter whenever he had gotten the chance. Whether it be to brag about your recent accomplishments to his friends, to catch your attention from another room, or falling from his lips with a sigh of pleasure as he reached completion with you laying breathlessly beneath him. 

Now the word seemed torturous, the last time he uttered it replaying on a relentless loop in his head. 

It was your 2nd anniversary. Dinner had been laid out on the table for an hour. Two glasses of wine sat untouched in front of a vase of roses you had picked out at the florist earlier that morning, and there was no sign of Luke. 

You were wracking through your brain as you watched a petal fall from a rose and land lightly in one of the glasses. 

Had you gotten the time wrong? 

But you were sure that the two of you had agreed on 8:00 for dinner, that way you had time to get everything ready after getting home from work, and Luke wouldn’t have to rush to leave the studio. 

Yet somehow you found yourself staring at the now cold dinner at 9:30, with absolutely no word from Luke. You wanted to call, if for no other reason than to check he was still alive and breathing, but your nerves stopped you from doing that, not wanting to take on the role of the overbearing girlfriend. 

Your stomach growled hungrily over the light music that was playing through the house speakers. So, begrudgingly you took a bite of the pasta on your plate before downing your entire glass of wine. 

Luke arrived home about 2 hours later, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. He caught sight of the table, with one setting completely untouched as he hung up his coat, causing guilt to pang in his chest. 

“Baby,” he called out, carrying himself to your shared bedroom.

When no response came his heart rate sped up in fear that you had left. 

“Y/n” he called, louder this time with a sense of urgency clear in his voice.  

That’s when he spotted a person sized lump underneath the duvet. Releasing a sigh of relief he moved towards you, peeling the blankets off and leaving a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

This caused you to stir a bit, eyes fluttering open to meet him. 

“Hi, my love.” he cooed. 

A frown was prominent on your face, and a crease separated your eyebrows as they furrowed angrily. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. We got a bit carried away in the studio, but in good news the album is coming along great. M’so excited for you to hear it” 

You had always tried to be understanding of Luke’s job for many reasons. One being that you both reaped the benefit of his success, you wanted for essentially nothing, had a nice house, the opportunity to travel, and Luke often spoiled you with gifts even if you asked him not to. Another being how happy it made your boyfriend. Music truly was his passion, and he was so talented that you wouldn’t want for him to ever put his work on the back burner for you. 

With that being said, you made a point to take time off to spend time with him whenever you were able to. You had even changed jobs because your last one hadn’t allowed you to go on tour with him, which he had been adamant about, insisting, “There’s no way I can be away from you for that long.” 

And you were happy to do all of those things, because you were in love, and  you felt incredibly lucky to even be a part of his world. But you did start to question things as your relationship went on. It felt like Luke didn’t even consider your job. He only saw it as something that took you away from him. 

You had worked hard to get where you were in the occupational field. Without your job all you would have to do is sit around and wait for Luke to be ready for you, and you just couldn’t live like that. 

Luke turned on the lamp on your nightstand as you slowly sat up in bed. 

“2 weeks Luke, we’ve had these plans for two weeks.” 

“I know baby I tried, but you know how it is when inspiration strikes.” he dismissed while sitting the flowers on the ground. 

“No, I don’t. Do you not think that I have things I could be doing for work? Cause I do, and I choose this over all of that.” you huffed in frustration. 

Luke took a deep breath while subtly rolling his eyes. 

“Y/n, I’m sorry for missing dinner, but you don’t understand the pressure I’m under, from the fans, the label, management, and the band.” 

“I know that you work hard and I know how important this is to you, and I’m so proud of you, but I’m proud of us too and I would’ve liked to have a night for just us.” you tried to explain. “Not to mention the fact that I’m under pressure in my job too and I always find time for you, no matter what.” 

“Yea, you have pressure from a job that you don’t need.” his voice rising in anger with each word as he paced around the room. 

“How many times do I have to tell you Luke? It’s my job, it’s a part of my life and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.” you shouted. 

“Great.” he replied sarcastically. “Then you should understand that I won’t give up my job anytime soon.” 

“I’m not asking you to, I’m just asking for a bit of consideration, and just a sliver of your time.” 

“I’m working to make us more money.” he stated.

“Luke, we don’t need any more money. You should be working because you enjoy it and because it’s your passion.”

He let out a condescending laugh before turning to look in your eyes. 

“Yea, well you don’t seem to mind all the money when you're sitting at home in the house that I bought, and leeching off of my bank account on the daily. D’ya think you could afford all the shit you have just based on your salary?” he spat crudely. 

You physically leaned back as if the words had just actually been thrown at you. They must’ve, because the pain they caused felt far too real to just be emotional. You opened your mouth to fight back, to scream, to do something but the lump in your throat prevented anything to come out other than a sad, and pathetic squeak. 

Was that what he thought about you? 

This had caught you completely off guard. Sure, you were expecting an argument, you’d even say you were expecting a big one, but you would’ve never guessed he would throw this in your face. 

You felt betrayed. It had always made you insecure that you were making such little money compared to your boyfriend. 

Some days after receiving your paycheck you would go out and spend it all on Luke, solely because you wanted to know that you could contribute too. You would do that whenever you got the chance, to reassure that your work was important, and valid. And mainly to show Luke that you appreciated all he did for you. 

He would always reply, “You don’t have to do this, love. I like spoiling my girl.” 

Yeah right. 

“I wasn’t, I m-mean I don’t try to lee-,” you paused, the word feeling too gross to repeat back. 

“Well, you do whether you're trying or not so the least you can do is give me a break occasionally.” he spoke casually, while changing into sweats as if he wasn’t ripping you apart with every word. 

You kept a blank stare at the bedroom door, your eyes already stinging with unshed tears. You wished you could be angrier but his words left you questioning and feeling guilty. 

As hard as you’d tried to provide for yourself and make your own way you couldn’t help but wonder if you had subconsciously started leaning on him, more than you had ever wanted. 

Luke continued getting ready for bed, not taking a second look at you since hitting you with his harsh words. 

“I-I’m sorry.” you croaked. 

“It’s fine, Y/n I just wish you could’ve been slightly more understanding.” he continued, still not facing you. 

“I think that maybe, I mean, um I gotta go.” you were speaking through tears, as you abruptly stood from the bed and hurried to leave the room. 

This caught Luke’s attention causing him to spin in your direction at lightning speed, finally taking in your emotional state.

“Going? Going where? I-what are you talking about?” 

You didn’t reply, grabbing your keys, bag, and shoes as you continued to speed to the front door. 

“Y/n!” he continued, following closely behind you. 

You paused at the front door and turned to meet his eyes. His stressed appearance subsided as you allowed him the opportunity to talk. 

“You’re upset.” he concluded, reaching a hand out to hold your cheek.

You leaned away from his touch and shook your head lightly, “M’not.” 

His features softened and he took another step closer to you, “You are. I’m sorry, I was harsh.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know?” 

“I don’t want t-to leech” you stuttered out. 

This rendered Luke speechless, realizing how cruel his words had been. You had taken this as an opportunity to exit the house, quickly running to your car. Luke made it to the driveway just in time to see you drive away. 

“Fuck” he snapped, jogging back towards the house to get his phone and call you in hopes of convincing you to come back. 

After calling you at least 20 times with no response he conceded and decided he should try and get some sleep, that way he was rested enough to get you to forgive him in the morning. 

His body fell naturally to his side of the bed, but his eyes lingered on where you typically laid. 

Rolling onto his back, eyes finding the ceiling he muttered to himself, “I’m an idiot.” 

Eventually he was tiring out, the bedroom ceiling growing extremely boring after staring for so long. He turned on his side to hug your pillow to his chest. As his hand slid under the pillow it came into contact with an envelope that had been hidden underneath. 

He sat up and flicked on a lamp to read the front, “To my Lu” 

He could tell that you had taken your time penciling on your words, each letter was flawless and written delicately. Before ripping it open he hesitated, questioning whether or not he even deserved to see what was inside after the way he spoke to you. The selfish part of his brain won for the second time that night. 

The first thing he saw after opening was two airline tickets situated just in front of a folded piece of notebook paper. 

He held his breath as he brought them into the light, two roundtrip business tickets to Sydney. 

He rushed to read the note you had left with them, unfolding it quickly. 

“Lu, 

Happy two years, my love. I can’t believe I’ve been lucky enough to call you mine for this long. Not a day goes by where I’m not in complete and utter awe of you and everything you do for me. I know how hard you work and how much you miss home and your family while you continue to grow in your music, and in yourself everyday. I know these aren’t the best tickets you’ve ever had by any means or the most extravagant vacation you’ve taken, but I wanted to show you how much I love you and how much I know you deserve, and need a break. We have 2 weeks, we leave tomorrow. I’ve worked it all out with the guys and your label. I know this is just a small way to repay you for the way you’ve taken care of me and the way you’ve loved me so selflessly for so long but I hope it shows you just a sliver of how much I love you. 

Yours always, 

               Y/n” 

He traced the letters of your name repeatedly as he blinked back a few stinging tears, before falling asleep, the note clutched tightly to his chest. 

That was a week, and about 100 missed calls ago.

About two days after you left, your friend had called to let him know that you were safe and staying with her for the time being. It had slightly lessened his worry, but the guilt he felt grew exponentially each day he had no reason to say your name.

He had claimed your side of the bed as his own in hopes that it would bring you closer to him. When he had finally dragged himself out of bed to shower he used your body wash and as embarrassing as it sounds nearly cried when the room was flooded with the familiar rose scented steam. And tonight while scouring through the liquor cabinet and feeling completely sorry for himself he had come across a bottle of tequila that you had purchased on your most recent vacation. 

Luke had put a serious dent in it by the time he was done scrolling through all of his pictures of you, and his finger began to itch with the need to call you. 

Through blurry and clouded eyes he located your contact, a breath hitching in his throat when he clicked the call button. 

With each unanswered ring he pinched his wrist, willing himself to wake up and discover this was all just some horrible nightmare, that he would just roll over and see you curled up next to him, warm, and sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

“You’ve reached y/n. Sorry I can’t get to the phone, leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Thanks” 

But it’s not his nightmare that got him here, it’s his mistake. 

“Y/n,” he croaked, his voice hoarse and scratchy as he hasn’t used it much in the past couple of days. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore, I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his heart was pounding and his intoxication numbed him from the feeling of  the hot tears that streamed down his face as he continued. “M’selfish baby. I’m so selfish and I was talking out of my ass that night, of course you’re not leeching. That’s fucking ridiculous, you couldn’t be, I give you nothing compared to what you give me. I just don’t know how to admit I’m wrong and the money is bullshit, it doesn’t matter, we could both live without it.”  his chest felt tight as he took a large gulp of air. “I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby. I need you with me, and I want to fucking give you the world and I know you don’t need me to give it to you. I want to. I just-I want to give you everything, anything. You can have it all. It’s yours. I’m yours, alwa-”  his pleads were cut off by the dial tone. 

“Always.” he repeated, staring at the black screen. 

pt. 2

[vanillanaps]

Unfaithful | Steve Rogers

Summary - You promised yourself it was the last time you’d see him. The last time you canceled on your boyfriend to meet up with him. The last time you’d lay naked beneath his sheets as he was buried between your thighs, but promised where meant to be broken.

A/n - y’all it’s been so long since I wrote smut, please just bear with me. The ending is also lowkey bad, idk y’all.

Category - Fem!Reader, angst, smut

Warnings - poorly written unprotected sex, arguments, cheating (I do not condone cheating) fluff at the end, I guess?

Word Count - 3.4k

♡♡♡♡

You shouldn’t be here, doing this, with him. It was wrong, it was so wrong and you knew that. Your boyfriend didn’t deserve the pain you’d been putting him through this past year, but you couldn’t help it. The way his calloused, soft hands felt running up and down your naked sides, his plump pink lips trailing kisses from your lips, down to your neck and across your shoulders. Or the way his piercing blue eyes gazed into the souls of yours, reading you like an open book. He was new, exciting and adventurous. The moment you met him, you knew it was something different about him. How he walked, talked and even presented himself. When he made that first move against you and even then you couldn’t resist him, not even when your boyfriend was a few feet away from you.

The presence of a body pulled you from your thoughts as the steam of the hot water pouring from the shower filled your senses, “You alright?”

You nodded softly, pushing away the intrusive thoughts and letting yourself have this moment. Your bottom lip was brought in between your lips at the feeling of those cherry red lips being traced against your steaming skin, “Steve, we can’t. I have to go.”

“I just need you once more before you go.” He whispered to you, his hands resting on your hips while he pressed his front up against your backside, letting you feel his hardness for you all over again. A soft moan escaped your mouth at the touch of his hard shaft flesh against your ass. You weren’t sure why you tried, knowing that each and every time, you’d melt right back into his arms without him doing much convincing.

You turned in his hold, not wanting to loiter for a moment longer, your lips found his. His hands circled around to your back, pulling you close to him. Turning the two of you around, he pushed you up against the cold titled wall, he took the chance of your lips parting with a gasp to slip his tongue in. The kiss grew heated and hands began to travel. Yours around his neck and his down to your thighs to lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Steve, please.” You muttered against his mouth, sighing when his shaft brushed against your folds, teasing you tremendously.

“I’ve got you.” He’d answer back. It was true, he always had you.

Your head fell back against the shower wall as he sunk himself into you. His breath shuttering against your neck as your walls squeezed him like no tomorrow, still a throbbing mess from your earlier sessions that you were supposed to be scrubbing off. His grip on your thighs tightened, thrusting up into you. Your moans filled the steamy shower as his heavy cock stretched the walls of your pussy, nails clawing at the nape of his neck while he fucked you endlessly. Steve dipped his neck down, tongue trailing against your breast, trying to bring you the most immense pleasure he could before you left him again. He knew you wouldn’t last long around him, but he figured he’d make you cum once more before you were gone.

“Fuck, please don’t stop!” You moaned, now tucking your head into his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

“Gonna cum already?” He asked, not even needing the answer. He knew by the way that sweet cunt of yours tightened, just nearly squeezing the life out of him, “gonna make a mess all over me again?”

You nodded desperately, your back trying to arch, “I’m so close.”

Steve widened his foot stance, repositioned his arms to hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. Picking his pace up, his hips snapped against yours, pelvis brushing up against your clit and his balls slapping up against your ass. He smirked through his groans at the feeling of tightening up around him, “That’s it baby, cum for me.” A cry left your throat as you followed his commands and released all over him, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm til his thrust sputtered to a complete stop and his load shot heavy into you.

If he was being truthful, he didn’t want to let you go. If he had it his way, he’d lay you in his bed and cook you a nice lunch as you slept away the last five orgasms he gave you, but that wasn’t his place. He was there for a fuck and then you’d go home to the man you claimed you loved. But how could you love him when you were here with Steve? How could you love him when you went back home nearly every night with Steve’s cum still leaking out of you. How were you still his?

♡♡♡♡

You felt his eyes burning holes into your back as he watched you dress yourself. Pulling that black dress he bought you down over your hips to wear for another man, “When can I see you again?”

There it was, the question that you knew he’d been itching to ask. Lately, you've been distant with him. Trying to dodge his phone calls and avoid his text, only making it at least two days but then you’d find yourself tangled in his sheets for the next few nights. But tonight was supposed to be different, it had to be. This was the last night you’d spent with him. The last night you’ll put more strains on your relationship for the man that lounged on his bed in nothing but sweats, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You didn’t need to turn around to see him rolling his eyes, you heard it, “You do this bullshit every week. You say you’re done and then I end up right in between your legs. Just stay.”

“Steve, I can’t and you know that!” You avoided his words, knowing the truth behind him.

“Give me one good reason why you can’t?” He questioned, getting up from the bed and following behind you as you collected your belongings.

“Because I love him. He’s my boyfriend and I should be there with him, not you.” You shot back.

Steve scoffed, “You love him, yet you’re here fucking me on your anniversary with him? Oh wow, he’s a lucky guy!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You whipped around, pointing a finger in his face, “You knew what this was when we first started! I told you from the beginning what it was going to be and it’s not my fault that you caught feelings! I’m happy where I am!”

“I’m not gonna sit here and act like I don’t see through your facade.” Steve stepped to you, pushing your hand from his face as he slowly backed you into a wall, “You don’t love him, you’re comfortable with him. He’s all you know, your safe place. Someone who will always be there when you crash and burn. You’re scared to let me in because I actually make you feel something. I challenge you, I put excitement into your life and that scares the shit out of you because you think one day it’ll come to an end. That I’ll leave and we’ll never see eachother again.”

“You’re wrong.” You spat, he’s right.

“No, I’m not.” Steve shook his head, his anger fading away. He didn’t want to be angry at you, he wanted you to see the truth. He wanted you to see what good you had standing in front of him and what you could make a life out of, “He bores you. It’s been the same thing since high school. You told me this. You’re keeping yourself in a relationship that’s already over. It’s been over the moment we came in each other’s lives, why can’t you see that?”

“Steve..” You breathed, lip trembling as his words started to hit home. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, he only wanted you to see him.

He let his thumb softly wipe away the tear that dared spill over your tear duct, his hand coming to caress your cheek before his fingers slide down to take your chin between them and titling your head up, “Let me be the man that makes you happy. That keeps you feeling young and excited everyday. Let me be the one to tell you that I love you everyday for the rest of our lives.” His eyes searched yours finding them completely conflicted. A small slither of hope filled his chest, this was the furthest he ever got with you in this conversation. His head lowered to place his lip on yours, placing small pecks upon them, “I love you, let me love you.”

For a moment, you took pleasure in the situation. His lips repeatedly pressed against yours in a soft manner as he confessed his love for you. You let yourself have a glimpse at your future with Steve. He was right, he did excite you, challenge you and bring adventure into your life. With Steve, there was no telling where the future might take you. The infatuation you had with him is what kept you coming back to him, but it’s also what kept you an arms length away. Knowing that at any moment, this relationship you’d built with Steve could be taken away. He could start loving someone the same way he started loving you. What if he got bored of you? What if you were only excited because you belonged with somebody else and there was a thrilling edge of being caught when he would be balls deep into you as your boyfriend called. There were too many what if’s. With the man you called yours, you knew it would be forever. That’s why you couldn’t let yourself love Steve Rogers.

“Stop, stop.” You muttered, placing your hand on his chest to push away, “I-I can’t.”

“Don’t do this, please.” He sighed as you slipped from his grip and continued to gather your belongings. His heart was nearly ready to jump out his chest as he watched you walk towards his front door, hand on the knob, “If you leave, then that’s it!” He called, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m tired of being your back up when you aren’t happy with him! It’s been a year and I’m tired of waiting. If you—if you walk out that door, then I’m done! It’s over!” Steve’s chest bounced heavily, nerves running through his body as he watched your frozen stance, but what could he have expected? You didn’t leave your boyfriend then, so why would you leave him now?

“I hope you have a nice life, Steve.” Without even a glance back, you walked out of his apartment and out of his life.

♡♡♡♡

Checking your eyes once more, dabbing away in puffiness in your eyes just before you crossed the threshold of Darren’s apartment, “Babe? Baby, I’m here!” Closing the door behind you, setting your keys and purse on the entry table, “I’m sorry I’m late! Traffic was crazy.” You lied smoothly, turning the corner to see your boyfriend sitting at the opposite end of the dining room table, hands folded in his lap, candles burned down to the middle and food that had looked like it had been sitting for a while, “What’s all this?”

“Well, I had a dinner planned for our anniversary.” He spoke, getting up from his chair to make his way over to you, “But clearly you had better things to do.”

You were taken back by his words. There had never been a time that Darren had spoken to you with that kind of tone, but then again, there had never been a time you’d been late for an anniversary dinner, “Darren, there was traffic. What did you want me to do? Tell them to hurry up? Run through it?”

“Yeah, well that excuse would be valid if it didn't take you nearly three hours to get here when you only live twenty minutes away.” He moved around you, blowing the candles out.

“Okay, baby wait.” You sighed, grabbing his hand to stop him from clearing the table, “I woke up from my nap late and was just completely off schedule and you know how much I hate when you comment on my time management.” Darren stopped letting you pull him towards you, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you. I’m here now so let’s just warm the food up and enjoy it, yeah?”

He looked down to your pleading eyes before giving you a small nod, “Okay.”

“Okay, good. I’ll go warm up the food and meet you on the couch.” Placing a small kiss on his cheek, you grabbed the plates of food and made your way to the kitchen. A breath of relief came from you as you loaded a plate into the microwave. You knew that you’d be late, but being three hours late and using traffic as your excuse nearly blew your cover. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this to him, which is why you ended it with Steve. Darren had been nothing but good to you and you were doing him wrong in the worst way because only did to fuck another man, but you fell in love with him.

The night was slow and awkward. You tried to converse, ask him about his day, how work was, and what his plans were but all you got back was ‘it was okay’, ‘it was work’, and ‘probably nothing’. You slightly frowned at his responses, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a right to be upset. Deciding to make it up to him, you set your plates down and crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him slowly, “I’m sorry.” You muttered against his lips. At first, you’d thought he’d forgiven you when his hands came to your waist, but it was to only push you away, “What’s wrong?”

Darren sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch staring up at the ceiling, “...You still smell like him.”

You faltered, pulling away slightly, “Wh-what?”

He brought his hands up, rubbing them over his face, “Usually when you come back from being with him, it’s faint. No matter how much you try to scrub him off you, I assume it’s because the two of you shower together, but it’s like today you didn’t even try.”

“You knew?” You questioned. Since when? For how long? Why is he just now saying something? Had he known each and every time you’d come from Steve’s apartment? Did he know the few times Steve came to your apartment?

Darren scoffed, slowly sliding you off his lap, getting up from the couch, “Is that all you have to say to me? If I knew? Of course I knew! My girlfriend is out there getting fucked by another man and you think I didn’t know? All the late night calls and text messages. When you're ‘working overtime’. Being too sick to come see me, but in reality, you’re with somebody else. Coming here with missing panties, yeah I’ve noticed! All these new clothes that you can’t fucking afford because you make minimum wage and can barely pay rent for that apartment you have!” He raged, pacing the living room back and forth, “Then you come in here, three hours late on our fucking anniversary, smelling like him! You fucked him. You fucked somebody else on a day we were supposed to celebrate our relationship!”

“I'm sorry! I broke it off with him! It’s done! I’ll never see him again!” You tried to reason, tears threatening to spill, getting up from the couch as you made your way towards him, trying to take his hands into yours to keep him from pacing, but he only snatched his away, “Darren, please! I swear it’s over!”

He stopped his pacing, his breath deepening as he tried to calm himself, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You gulped figuring that you lied and hurt him enough. He didn’t deserve what you put him through, you’re causing him nothing but pain, “A year.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “A year. A fucking ye—“ He paused, eyes finding yours and looking into what felt like the depths of your soul, “Do you love him?”

Your heart dropped, mouth running dry, “Darren, don’t make me answer that.”

He took a step closer to you, “Do. You. Love. Him?”

Tears finally fell, wetting your cheeks as you nodded.

“Get out.” He started, you went to testify but he just shut you down, “I don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses. Just—leave! Go! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” You watched as he stomped around the apartment before finally getting to the single bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

This is what you deserved. You didn’t have a right to cry, to be upset for him kicking you out. You had sealed your fate months ago when you first stepped out on him with Steve. You sealed your fate once you continued to sleep with Steve even after you had fallen in love with him and now, you’d lost both of them.

♡♡♡♡

The days passed slowly as you fell in a rut. How did you allow yourself to end up here? Alone, sad and broken. The two most important people no longer in your life. Both had been completely fed up with your shit and could you blame them for it? No. If you were being truthful, you would’ve done the same. If you were Darren, you would’ve left him the moment you knew. If you were Steve, you wouldn’t allow him to string you along as far as you did to him. God, were you a bitch. But a bitch who couldn’t help what she felt.

The days didn’t slow because Darren wasn’t in your life anymore. You could live without the schedule days that had been the same since you met Darren. There was no change, the excitement started and ended in highschool, but you stayed for your own selfish reasons that had now turned its back on you. It had left you cold and alone in the world, with no one to turn to, not even friends. They’d left you behind to go travel the world once college was over while you chose to settle down with the man that had no true desire for the adventures of life. He still didn’t deserve what you did.

But then there was Steve Rogers. The man you had gotten so easily infatuated with in so little time. You were at his beck and call, more of him crawling to you as you kept him on a string. Again, for your own selfish reasons. Steve’s life scared you. His days weren’t planned to a T, he didn’t schedule out breakfast, lunch and dinner. There wasn't any planned bedroom time and the sex was far from vanilla. Steve was wild, reckless and carefree while still being wholesome and loving all in one. You knew what your heart wanted. Back then, you were scared to follow it. But now, after having a taste of loosing it all, you said fuck it. You’d dive headfirst into this if you had to, if you even still had the chance to.

Your mind ran a mile a minute as your legs carried you into the apartment building and up the familiar staircase you had been through so many times before. Flashbacks of you being pressed against almost every inch of these walls at least once by him as the two of you could barely make it to his apartment on the third floor. A soft smile at the memory as you came face to face with his front door. Taking a deep breath and raising your fist, knocking against the tall wood.

Moments passed before the door swung open, your eyes meeting those stunning baby blue ones that you didn’t realize you missed so much, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Steve responded, leaning his body against the doorframe. The silence took over for a moment before he spoke up again, “I’m guessing you two..?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we did. You were right.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stood straight, motioning towards him. Relief ran through your body as you allowed yourself to be buried into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The smallest of smiles curled into your lips as you felt his press against your temple, his arms wrapping around you tighter for a moment longer, before he guided you into his apartment.

This was the start of new beginnings.

[sunatooru]

I was wondering if I could send in an emergency request, I don't want to bother you so pls ignore it if you're busy

Tw/ arguments, panic attack

So I was having an argument with my friend and they said some hurtful things and mentioned how I was insecure even tho it had nothing to do with the argument??, and so I told them to leave me for a while to cool down

but they just kept following me around all day and it got really stressful because they wouldn't leave me alone until I finally broke down.

I started having a panic attack and crying and I kept telling them to leave me alone but they still didn't leave.

Also there wasn't anyone with us idk if that makes it better or worse

They were yelling at me and asking why I was crying and that just made it worse. I was yelling and shouting at them to leave me alone and to get out and that I didn't want them but they still stayed.

And then they started walking towards me and telling me I that just need a hug and that I'm just stressed out

I was in the corner of the room and I had nowhere to go so it started freaking me out because I was cornered and I didn't want to be hugged or touched my them. I don't usually yell and I had never yelled so loud before, and my friend knows I don't liked to be touched my them so I thought they would understand but they didn't

I started to get overwhelmed and panicked even more and I felt like I couldn't breathe

And then they hugged me and it felt really suffocating it was really hard to push them off me but I eventually did. They wouldn't leave the room until they had to go, and eventually I calmed down after they left (since they were the trigger)

It was a very overwhelming and scary experience

So I was wondering if you could go do mattsun, bokuto, iwaizumi, and maybe kuroo if you can, how they would react in such a scenario, and how they would get the person to leave, and how they would calm their s/o down.

Hii sweets, I'm sorry you went through all that. That friend sounds terrible, especially not leaving you alone and making you feel overwhelmed. And pls don't feel like you're bothering me haha I'm here for you and whoever needs comforting <3 I hope you're feeling much better and that these help in some way xx

~

Warnings: gn!reader x mattsun, bokuto, iwaizumi and kuroo, arguing with a friend goes out of hand, reader breakdowns and feeling overwhelmed, crying, mentions of panic attack, hyperventilating,

~

Matsukawa

* He generally doesn’t try to come between you and your friends if you fight as they never really get out of hand

* so when the the argument between you and your friend ends up more than a little bicker, he steps in

* He can hear you crying out to be left alone but your friend ignores you

* He marches towards you both, stepping in front of you as a shield

* If your friend tries to push past him, they can’t

* His body rigid as he looks down at them, his face unimpressed by their childishness

* “You’re quite brave acting like you’re not the one hurting them.” He raises his eyebrow

* Will continue to block you friend with a little ‘oops’ when they walk into him

* When he catches you scrunched up in the corner, he feels his heart drop

* He knows you don’t like being touched in this state so he grabs a glass of water and tissues for you

* He puts them in front of you and whispers that they’re gone now and it’s going to be okay

* “Everything they said was wrong. Don’t listen to them, okay? You’re wonderful, in so many ways, I can’t even describe. If they were really your friend they should’ve understood your behaviour. Drink some water and take some deep breaths for me.”

* He’ll wait until you’ve drank at least have the glass and then count your breaths

* He won’t try to force physical contact unless you indicate for some

* And when you do he gently dabs your face clean and caresses your check

* “My pretty baby.”

Bokuto

* He wasn’t with you when the fight started

* He only saw what was happening when he came to see you and heard you yell

* He instantly runs towards you, stopping in his tracks when he realises your friend is there too

* When you yell again he knows that you want them to leave

* He does his best to get your friend to leave, repeating that it’s what you want and that they should listen

* When he finally gets them to leave, he frowns at your shaking body

* He squats down in front of you, arms hugging his knees

* “Baby..” he whispers so softly

* “I made them go. It’s going to be okay now.” His voice is gentle, he looks over you and chews his lip

* “I promise. I’m here now and I’ll make you feel better.” He claims and inches his hand closer to yours on the floor

* He keeps it a few centimetres away and wait until you close the gap - an indication you’ve relaxed a little

* He’ll link his pinkie with yours until you’re ready for more

Iwaizumi

* Iwaizumi always protects his loved ones

* So when he sees your friend invading your space after you repeatedly tell them that you need space, it angers him

* He takes in your tense posture, red eyes and tear stain face

* He looks dead into your friend’s eyes after shooting out an arm to stop them from taking another step towards you for a hug

* “I think you’ve given them enough. Leave them alone.” You friend just stares at him and reluctantly leaves, but not without telling you they’ll call you

* He turns to you and hates the way you’re sobbing

* “Love…we don’t need to talk right now but take a seat for me, please.” He requests and points towards the bed

* He sits next to you, close enough to be there for you but always far enough that you’re not overwhelmed again

* “I don’t think you should be friends with them.” He rubs his face and looks at you

* “If they cared about you, they wouldn’t have said anything like that or make you feel worse. They don’t deserve you. You don’t need to say anything…but I’ll be here.” He assures you

* You both sit in silence besides each other, his shoulders relaxing when you start breathing regularly again

* He can’t fight the smile growing on his face when you lean over and rest your head on his shoulder

* He kisses your forehead, getting closer and letting you hold onto his as you like

* Definitely puts your favourite movie on and grabs some snacks if you don’t feel like moving, or doing anything

Kuroo

* He was meeting with you anyways so he came around yours a little earlier, a surprise wouldn’t hurt

* What he wasn’t expecting was to see your friend cornering you as you start hyperventilating on the floor

* He rushes in and shouts at your friend

* “What the fuck are you doing? Can’t you see what’s happening right now?” He scorns at you friend, glaring hard as he practically scolds them out of your place

* He curses when he turns back to see you, quickly falling on his knees and trying to grab your attention

* “Baby, breathe with me, okay? Follow me.” He holds eye contact with you and starts inhaling and then slowly exhaling

* He continues this until your erratic breathing subsides

* He then finds some tissues and gently dabs at the corner of your eyes

* “I’m here baby, I’m here.” He mumbles, sitting opposite you and giving you a small smile

* “I don’t know what happened but you didn’t deserve it. If your friend does that again…” he inhales deeply

* “Please call me if it does. No matter what, I’ll come for you.” He declares

* After a while, when he sees you slowly feeling better, he’ll suggest making dinner for you both

* A special candlelit dinner, some music in the back and a tight hug promising you that you did nothing wrong and that everything will get sorted out

[aceinspace691]

maybe 50 with smol tommy and big techno?

tommy has a bad nightmare of the human he used to live with and techno needs to console him? idk i kinda think it would be cool

I’m so sorry that this took so long! I hope you enjoy! I kind of wrote more than I needed to but hey here ya go haha... I’m working on other ones but it might take a while for those as well. I’m super busy looking for apartments and working currently...

Prompts from here!

Warnings for mild Stockholm taking root, injuries, fear, threats, treating someone as inferior, keeping a person as a pet (Let me know if I missed any!) Word Count ~1500

-----There Will Come a Day-----

“Oh, Theseus!” Shivers shot down his spine and he pressed himself against the back of the cage fearfully as the human entered the room. The name was given to him for trying to be a hero, but in the end, he’d just been caught himself. The smile the human gave the borrower was sickening and it felt paralyzing. “I had a really awful day at work, and I need to destress.” The cage door squeaked open and fingers reached forward and wrapped around his middle. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Tommy shook his head, though he knew it wasn’t really a question. He’d learned a long time ago that his opinion didn’t matter, and that struggling only made everything worse. But that was okay.

After all, he was Dream’s. 

He was the property of the blond who liked to wear that stupid smiley mask and squeeze him a bit too tightly. Of the human who had been kind enough to give him food and shelter. He’d been told several times that he was lucky to be Dream’s. 

There could have been a worse human that found him, he’d been told. That another human might have killed him and not have graciously befriended the borrower and kept him safe. Maybe, at the beginning, Tommy might have disagreed and fought, but now, after several months at least, he’d lost his fight and will to get away.

The fingers around him shifted and fidgeted with his limbs, though they didn’t do much to the wings stuffed under his shirt. Fingers rolled his arm absently as the human crossed the room to sit at his desk, tapping away with his other hand on the computer. The fingers around him squeezed every now and then, mostly bearable. 

But one squeeze was particularly tight and it forced the air out of Tommy’s fragile lungs. A sound came with it, and his body instinctively pushed at the tight grip around him. 

He realized his mistake a moment later as the clacking of keys stopped and he froze, feeling himself be moved and set down on the desk. The human clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Theseus..” dissatisfaction dripped from the human’s lips, and he was scowling, Tommy could see it from the way the human/s lips quirked downward. 

“I-I’m sorry, Dream,” the boy stuttered out, trying not to choke on his fear, “I, um, I didn’t mean to! The grip was just a bit too tight and I--”

A sharp, disbelieving laugh left the human. Tommy flinched. “I had a bad day. I told you that already, didn’t I?” Tommy didn’t respond, didn’t think that’s what Dream actually wanted.

He was wrong. A fist slammed down on the desk inches from Tommy, shaking the surface horribly and making Tommy fall. He stared up at the human with wide eyes filled with fear.

“I asked you a question, Theseus.” The human’s teeth were visible, clenched and Tommy shuddered. “When I ask a question, you answer, got it?” Tommy gave a series of rapid, frantic nods, arms curled close to his chest in panic. “Good.”

The human gave a sigh and leaned back, the anger from before still buzzing around Tommy, though the human seemed more relaxed. Tommy trembled with adrenaline, his nerves shot.

“Now, like I was saying. I had a bad day, and I told you that when I rescued you from your cage today, didn’t I?” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” It took everything in Tommy to not flinch as a finger reached forward and gave him a rough pat of approval on his head. He hated that he craved the validation and warmth that was evident in Dream’s smile that appeared.

“Good boy!” He praised, scooping Tommy into his palms, the latter remaining motionless. “But I do think it’s kind of selfish of you to make this about you, don’t you?”

Dread pooled in his stomach and he swallowed fearfully. “Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad you agree, though I think you still need to be punished...” The human trailed off, pinching one of Tommy’s arms between his fingers. Tommy’s breath hitched. “But maybe you could change my mind?”

Tommy immediately fell into an incoherent babble of apologies and pleading. Saying he was so sorry and that he’d do better. Pleading for his tormentor friend not to hurt him. A part of him deep down knew that it did no good, but maybe it would lessen the punishment. 

“Not good enough, Theseus,” Dream tsked.

Tommy didn’t have time to register the words before the human pulled and a blinding pain filled him. He was screaming, he realized, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Theseus?”

Tommy tried to quiet himself and only succeeded slightly. 

“Tommy!”

Tommy jolted awake in a dark room, the cold of his cage under him. He could see a silhouette that was barely outlined by the moonlight behind it. He scrambled back as a hand reached in, a panicked chirp leaving him. 

He pressed his hands against his mouth, trying to muffle his whimpers as the human paused. Then it was reaching for him, and it gently scooped him out and brought him closer to the human before Tommy registered, shouting in fear.

“Dream, please!” He cried, body wracking with trembles as he curled close to himself, cradling his injured arm to his chest. “I didn’t mean to, please, just, please!” 

“Hey,” A voice was saying, deep and monotonous, “hey, kid. You’re okay, no one’s gonna hurt you here.” A finger brushed up and down his arm.

That didn’t make sense. Even when Dream soothed him after he was punished, he wasn’t this gentle. Dream always said it in a patronizing way. This person sounded... genuine.

His breath sounded loud in his ears and he made a hesitant, daring move to look up at the human. 

Now that his eyes had adjusted more, he could see the long, pale pink hair of the human in the moonlight. No smiling mask. A concerned expression, that he could see. 

“Technoblade...?” He winced at how rough and quiet his voice came out. He sounded pathetic.

“Hey, kid. That’s right.” The vague praise and warmth in the voice sent pleasant shivers down his spine. “You back with me?”

Tommy nodded, then remembered himself with another wince. “Yes, sir.”

“Just Techno is fine,” the voice reminded him gently, yet Tommy still stiffened a bit, “you’re okay, kid.”

Tommy bit back the urge to tell the human that he wasn’t a kid, that he was a big man, but instead he simply nodded. Techno resumed the motion from before, trying to further soothe Tommy as he gently rubbed his arm. 

Moments of silence stretched, and Techno broke it first.

“So, uh, before... you were makin’ like, bird sounds.” Techno didn’t notice how Tommy had stiffened. “Are you... an avian hybrid, by chance?”

“No!” Tommy blurted, the wings beneath his shirt flaring and giving him away.

“Kid, I can see your wings under there.” Tommy choked on a sob as he flinched away from the finger, pressing his forehead to the leathery skin of the hand he was on. He tried to show his apology in his very posture. “Kid..?”

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Technoblade!” Tommy trembled, keeping his head down despite the uncomfortable warmth. A panicked trill rose in his throat and he just barely suppressed it. “Please, sir, do what you want with anything but the wings, anything but the wings, please!”

It was hard to focus, and he had to strain to hear the gentle murmuring hums of the human holding him. Calming him down. Being patient. and kind, and too good for the likes of him.

“Shhh, hey, hey,” the gentle touch was back, this time just barely brushing over his wings through his thin shirt, almost hesitantly, “you deserve love. You didn’t deserve what Dream did to you. And I’m never, ever going to hurt you. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just asked because Phil is also one. You’re safe here, Tommy.” 

“But, I, I lied. And I’m annoying, so...”

“Tommy.” The voice was firm now, and Tommy tensed. “Look at me.”

And he did. He looked up slowly, and saw how intently Technoblade was looking at him in the darkness, the dim light of the moon. He swallowed thickly.

“No one is ever going to hurt you again.” Techno told him with the most serious, earnest expression that Tommy had seen so far. “How many times do I need to tell you before you believe it?”

Tommy winced, opening his mouth to apologize, but Techno just shook his head slightly. And Tommy finally started to understand, a spark of his old self reigniting within him. Techno gave him a small smile in the moonlight, following up his previous question.

“Because I’ll remind you and prove it to you as many times as I need to.”

[op-imaginesandmore]

How would Issho/Fujitora, Doflamingo, Smoker, Arlong, and Gin react to their s/o dying in their arms? (human s/o for all of them including Arlong) Sorry there are so many the posts you've made so far I've enjoyed immensely. I love your style of writing! (:

I know it’s been *checks notes* actual years since I have touched this blog, but I kinda wanted to try my hand at a few of the asks I have in my inbox. I’m going to do just Smoker, and with each of the asks with multiple characters I will pick the one I am most comfortable with writing and go from there. I hope you like it! And also, to anyone who reads this and likes it, thank you! But my ask box will remain closed until…idk, probably a long time. I don’t want to get any one’s hopes about about anything.

Pairing: Smoker x GN!reader

Warnings: Angst, character death (you asked for it), mild descriptions of injury, mentions of blood, implied smut (mildest of spice), unbeta’d if that is a warning

***

The OP was supposed to be a simple one. Get in, do reconnaissance, stay under the radar, come back with what info they needed on the pirate crew, get out.

No one thought Big Mom herself was going to recognize Y/N, because you were good at your job. You had been spying for the government for years, you’d worked with Smoker as one of his subordinates, had infiltrated countless pirate crews, revolutionary bases, treasonous scum that thought they could get away with anything, and had always succeeded in your job.

Lay low, go unnoticed, get the info, come back to him. It was a perfectly organized system that was like clock work, each gear turning for the purpose of civilian protection, and justice.

Until now.

Blood soaked the beach he was kneeling on, who’s it was, he had no idea. Could be his, was probably the pirates’ that were scattered around the Vice-Admiral like debris after a storm, but what infuriated him most was it was most definitely yours.

Wheezes, broken and wet, escaped from your lips, swollen eyes looking up into stoic grey that was like looking into twin hurricanes. Anger, righteous and intense, swirled around with frustration, concern, grief, and an emotion you knew from your quiet moments between soft sheets and the hard planes of his body.

So gentle you barely felt it, he lifted you from the sand like something precious, your blood dripping down his arms and pooling beneath your broken body. Your eyes, swollen and bruised, squinted up at him and a soft smile cracked painfully across your lips.

“Hey handsome” you rasped, a cough that was soaked with blood spurting out. Smoker put a large hand through your matted hair, jaw clenching as he tightened his hold on you.

“I’m gonna get you to the ship’s infirmary” he seethed through his teeth, the usual multiple cigars he kept there like pacifiers long gone. He made to get up, but the cry that came from your lips was shrill and heartbreaking. He immediately stopped, holding you to his chest in a hold soft enough for a newborn.

“I know it hurts, but you need-“

“Do you remember Alabasta?”

Smoker stopped, looking down at your broken body that had the audacity to be giving him the smile that always managed to make his heart flutter in his chest like a crushing school girl’s. He swallowed thickly, not trusting his voice and opting for a nod.

“You were such a baby about Strawhat, I thought you were going to implode when he had his crew mate save your life.” You reached a trembling hand to his face, stroking the rough stubble of his jaw. Almost involuntarily, Smoker leaned into the soft touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as memories of their time on the desert island came to mind.

It had been the first time you had ever yelled at him, calling him reckless and blind. Telling him you were thankful for Strawhat, grateful he had saved his “stupid, sorry, ass” so you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. He had retaliated with a practiced speech about being your superior, about how you should worry more about your job than what he was doing, how you shouldn’t talk to him like that.

Then you had the nerve to yell at him that you didn’t have a choice but to worry about him. When he yelled at you back about the why, instead of answering him you kissed him square on the mouth.

Their first kiss was in the moment, it was all teeth clacking and sudden and Smoker had been blindsided, but also hadn’t been. The two of you had been flirting with the line between officer and government agent for months at that point, subtle glances and bold, shameless flirting on your part had morphed into soft and subtle touches and hours of listening to you talk about everything and anything.

When the shock of it had worn off a second after you started kissing him, he hadn’t expected for himself to kiss you back. He had adjusted your chin, softened the kiss, and wrapped his arms possessively around your waist and lifted you, your legs wrapping around his own waist in a way that sent chills down his spine as he carried you to his desk. He set you down upon it, gentle as can be, but your legs stayed around his waist, his hips grinding into yours in a way that had him growling. Your lips had been like soft, plush, velvet on his own chapped ones, tongue sinful in its exploration, running against his to beg for entrance.

The two of you broke apart, you were panting, your face flush as you put your head on his chest and listened to the quick thumping of his heart. He smelled like a cigar, a hint of sweet fruit in a haze of earth and smoke that always managed to make your head spin. A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you licked the taste of him from them.

“I worry about you because I care about you Smoker” you looked up at him, your eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the sunlight coming in through the porthole of his cabin “probably more than what’s appropriate for a working relationship, but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” You put your hand on his face, stroking the apple of his cheek in a way no one had ever dared touch him before “if you don’t want this though, we can stop right now and never talk about it a-“

Smoker was kissing you again, softer but with a passion that turned your whole body into jelly that molded into his. It was brief, too brief for your liking but he was looking at you with a smoldering gaze that promised more.

“We do this, we tell no one.” He said with conviction “I can’t have my subordinates thinking I have favorites, and fraternizing could get me and you in a lot of trouble.”

You nodded, understanding alighted in your eyes as you coyly bit your kiss swollen bottom lip.

“If that means I get to see your smoke powers at work in the bedroom, I’ll take an oath of silence”

He felt his body react, his hardened length against your thigh making you squeeze your legs together, bringing him impossibly closer.

Smoker’s chest tightened at the memory.

“I’m glad” you said, swollen gaze growing distant “that it all happened the way it did. The last year and a half has been the best of my life” another cough, violent and cracking in its intensity that it had you whimpering into Smokers chest, and his eyes were burning with the tears that were inevitable now.

“Y/N-“ Smoker started, the deep rumble of his voice cracking “baby, you’re gonna be fine, let’s just-“ he took a breath, steeling himself to try and lift you up again, but your head falling limp against his chest stopped him, made the breath leave his lungs and, for the first time in a very long time, Smoker felt true terror grip his careful self control.

“Y/N?” His voice, so unlike the commanding bass it usually was, soft and broken as the body he held “Y/N? Sweetheart c’mon, wake up” he shook you, your head lolling to one side and then the next awkwardly, before it rested back on his chest and Smoker realized your uneven breathing had stopped, the rasping, painful breaths gone quiet and the only sounds to be heard on the bloodied beach were Smoker’s own uneven hyperventilating “Y/N please! You-you can’t do this! Baby, c’mon-open those pretty eyes, please! Y/N? Y/N!”

He held on tight to your body as he slowly broke down, the tears running rivers down his face that had smudges of your blood on it from holding your body up to it, his face buried into your hair as if he could revive you if he held on a little tighter, begged a little harder to whatever god or devil would listen. His cries broke through the silence, their only companion the lapping of water against the sand and gore. He rocked back and forth, clinging to your lifeless body like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

That was how Tashigi found her Vice-Admiral, sobbing into your hair as he begged you to wake up. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, but she had to keep him moving, had to remind him of the duty he still held.

“Vice-Admiral Smoker?” She breathed, caution in her tone, heartbreak threatening to pull her under when his breath caught. He looked up at Tashigi with a tsunami of emotions that she had never seen him display. Heartbreak and grief worked in tandem to make the ever stoic and statuesque officer crumble to his knees.

“I’ve gathered the survivors of our platoon, we’re awaiting your orders, sir”

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch for an eternity, Smoker looking down at his dead lover, the emotions that had been raging across his face draining from his being, and was replaced once again with the careful stoicism that his position required of him.

He got up slowly, you still cradled against his chest as he looked out at the horizon. It was another long moment before he spoke.

“We bury our dead, then we take the fight to the one who started this.” There was a fury in his words that struck fear into Tashigi, a fear for how reckless her Vice-Admiral was about to be against a Yonko.

“But Smo-“

“Did I fucking stutter?” He whipped his head around, the grey of his eyes burning with an unbridled rage that seemed barely contained “I’m not gonna rest until every last piece of filth that carries the name of Charlotte are wiped from every ocean from the East Blue to Raftel.” He glanced down at the body in his arms, a soft, broken look before the rage hit again.

“They’re gonna pay for what they’ve taken, I’ll make sure of it personally.”