#ill try to make graphics tomorrow

[jkgnggj]

❁✿ summer satori ✿❁

a post filled with summer graphics i feel fit the vibes and aesthetic of my satori coms

☼

˂ ˲ ˂ ˲ ˂ ˲ ˲ ˂ ˂ ˲

彡ㄟ彡ㄟ彡ㄟ___ ͡ i ͡ ___ ͡ i ͡ __

[muse-atelier]

well i got through my first week of my new job! i still don't like it but im slowly getting the hang of it. The only thing i like is that i can go to my favorite coffee spot and the library during my lunch breaks while getting my daily steps in honestly 💀

im still taking some more online courses to learn new skills and look into getting a job that's even somewhat creative. the problem is i don't know when i'll finally get used to getting home by 5 and NOT be tired so i can get work done😭

[lillybean730]

i think i may have a form of agoraphobia at this point

[pjsfvs]

relaxing - sunghoon hc

paring: bf!sunghoon x gf!afab!reader

genre: smut

warnings: smut, fluff, smoking weed, true love, curvy reader, Protected sex, fingering, hair pulling, shot gunning

word count: 4k

summary: You and Sunghoon spend a rainy weekend in his basement smoking and relaxing to the sound of the rain, which leads to a night of high love making.

a/n: i got some requests in my inbox but i was already writing this so ill write for those and post them either later today or tomorrow because i wont have plans :3 also sunghoon is my bias but ive never wrote something for him which is shocking 😭

The sound of the rain was what set the mood, the millions of drops pattering against the high windows of Sunghoon's basement sounding through the atmosphere. You laid on your back against the soft cushions of the couch, your eyes closed in a peaceful state as you waited patiently for your boyfriend.

"Alright, babe, we've got weed, video games, and movies; what do you want to do?" Sunghoon spoke cheerfully, closing the basement door behind him as he bounded down the wooden stairs.

"Hm, how about we go for a walk?" Giggling, your body bounced lightly as Sunghoon sat on the opposite end of the couch, lifting your sock clad feet onto his lap.

"Yeah, and catch a cold while we're at it too," He chuckled, rubbing your calf before taking in your appearance. 

You were dressed in a simple pair of grey leggings, which make your ass look great, and a worn v-cut graphic-tee with the Pepsi logo across the chest. Even when you dressed so simple, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he often wondered what he did to have someone so wonderful, other than Jake, in his life.

You opened your dazzling brown eyes, locking your gaze with his. "Why are you looking at me like that, silly?" You giggled, sticking your tongue out as you propped your head on a couch pillow.

"Just thinking about of amazing you are, dork." He countered, squeezing your leg lovingly as he watched your cheeks get a little warm.

"Gosh, you're too much for me," You sighed, covering your face with your hands before peeking out between your fingers, "Let's get high."

Sunghoon smiled, taking his signature white headphones from around his neck and placing them on the coffee table on front of them. "Shot gunning?"

"Shot gunning."

Shot gunning was your preferred way of getting high, ever since meeting Sunghoon that is. The first time you had tried weed, which actually was with Sunghoon, you inhaled too hard and ended up choking on your own breath. Sunghoon insisted that you didn't have to smoke just because he did it, but you insisted on trying it which led to him teaching you a different way of achieving the high without having to touch the blunt herself.

Once everything was set up Sunghoon took the blunt between his finger and thumb before striking the lighter in his other hand, bringing the small flame to the tip and watching it light up. He put the lighter away and took the first hit, breathing deeply and closing his eyes before exhaling, the smoke bellowing out of his parted lips and nose. A few seconds passed before he opened his eyes again, turning his head towards you.

"Ready?"

He watched as you bit your lower lip and nodded, sitting yourself up on the couch before kneeling next to him, their faces level with each other as your eyes stayed locked.

"I need to hear you say you're ready, beautiful."

You felt your face heat up and your heart swell, you always loved how caring he was about making sure you weren't feeling pressured. "I'm ready, Hoonie."

A small smile graced his lips before he brought the blunt up again, taking another slow drag and putting the blunt down, holding his breath. You parted your plump lips and Sunghoon did the same before blowing the smoke into your mouth. The smoke filled your lungs as you breathed in slowly, letting your eyes flutter shut before exhaling the same way, feeling your nerves begin to calm. As you opened your eyes your gaze locked with Sunghoon, who had a goofy smirk on his face.

"I never get tired of seeing that." He grinned, his heart nearly skipping a beat at the half-lidded stare you were giving him. The glow of the various lava lamps he had in the basement illuminated your face in a way that made it seem like you belonged in a pin-up poster, too perfect to be sitting in front of him right now.

"I never get tired of being shot gunned by you." You wistfully replied, a small smile tugging at your lips before another wave of heat rose to your cheeks. "Do you mind if I try something?" Your voice came out small, your gaze averting to the floor as you processed what you were going to do.

"Yeah- I mean, no, go for it," Sunghoon stuttered slightly, an embarrassed smile taking over the proud grin he had.

At his approval, you maneuvered your leg across his thighs before kneeling in front of him, straddling his waist as you sat in his lap. The new, and better, position allowed them both to be able to face each other without having to break their necks to face each other or Sunghoon to turn away to flick the ashes off.

"I-I just thought this would be easier," You spoke lightly, your hands picking nervously at each other in your lap. Sure, you had been dating for nearly a year, but that didn't stop your nerves from spiking each time you went out on a limb.

Sunghoon felt his cheeks set themselves on fire at the new position, having so much more to worry about than getting a cramp in his neck or side. "Y-Yeah, no, this is great, way better than before, actually." He smiled softly, his left hand resting on your hip lovingly as comfort.

After taking a moment to settle themselves, they began the process again; Sunghoon breathing in the smoke before blowing it into your mouth, allowing you to take in the high as well. He watched as you tilted your head back, sighing the smoke out into the air above them to avoid blowing it back into Sunghoon's face.

Sunghoon tracked your movement, his eyes trailing along your neck, taking in your smooth skin, before delving lower into what the cut of your t-shirt allowed him to see. He took in the details of your collarbones, just slightly protruding out, and the view of your breasts, which were slightly elevated due to the bra you wore. He wouldn't consider himself a person who gets horny while high, but with the view that was given to him in this very moment he could make an exception.

Thus, the process continued, rotating until the blunt was nothing but ash, leaving you and Sunghoon in a haze of smoke and lust as they grew closer to each other; you sat comfortably in Sunghoon's lap as he held onto your hips, his hands casually gripping your curves. Your foreheads rested on each-others, your noses slightly bumping as you relished in the high together, needing nothing but each other and the constant downpour of the rain.

"Sunghoon..." You breathed, your eyes staying closed as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck lovingly.

Sunghoon hummed, not feeling the need to use words as he steadily continued to trace patterns on your skin.

"Can I wear your hoodie?" Your voice was small and calm as you placed your hands on his shoulders, lifting your head back to open your eyes.

Sunghoon felt his eyebrows furrow as he opened his eyes, meeting his girlfriend's blown-wide pupils. "Are you sure you won't get too hot?" He mused, stilling his thumbs against your sides.

You huffed lightly, a cute pout on your lips, "It's always pretty cold in here, besides; I'll just take off my shirt, see?" As if to prove your point, or rather claim, you reached for the hem of your shirt and swiftly pulled it over your head, dropping it to the floor behind you, leaving you in a simple black bra, goosebumps immediately rising against your skin from the change in temperature.

Sunghoon felt a stir in his lower stomach, his eyes quickly flicking to your breasts that rested in the cups of your bra, your chest moving in tune with the breaths you were taking. "Y-You didn't have to, you know?" He gaped, scanning over the new flesh that lacked all the marks he now wanted to make.

"I know," You smirked, bringing your face to his ear, "I could feel that you've been staring for a while now, I just wanted to give you a better view." You murmured seductively before nibbling at his earlobe, causing his grip to tighten on your hips with a gasp.

"In that case you're gonna have to help me now." Sunghoon moaned, his hips lifting slightly to rub against your core easily through your leggings.

Your movements were slow and languid, trailing kisses from his jaw to his lips, catching them in a deep kiss as you moved herself closer to be directly in his lap. Sunghoon allowed his hands to move from your hips to your waist, caressing the soft, plump skin he was met with, the warmth welcoming his hands.

Moments like this were quite possibly his favorite; the slow, lethargic kisses they both shared, even when they were both sober. He loved the feel of you pressed against him, no insecurities or worried clouding your judgement as you allowed yourself to be free and be comfortable with him, which only made you hotter.

"So, what do you say?" You finally spoke as their lips parted, ghosting against each other, "Can I?" You gazed at him with a fire of seductive confidence behind your eyes, the look only fueling the desire Sunghoon had to take you right in that moment.

He was practically rendered breathless from staring at you, almost forgetting to answer your awaiting question. "Definitely."

You engulfed his lips into a slow, yet heated kiss; lips smacking and tongues clashing in an instant of lust before they both broke away, a new spark igniting within the both of them. You took a second to stare at each other, breathing heavily before they broke into frantic movements.

Sunghoon shifted sporadically, pulling the hoodie up at any angle he could, nearly getting it stuck on his head and glasses as you frantically struggled to get your bra off, trying your best to keep your balance as Sunghoon wiggled and jerked, muttering and cursing here and there. The red death trap finally released its hold on Sunghoon, and he was met with the glorious sight of you dangling your bra on your finger, using your other hand to muffle your bubbling giggles.

"I'm glad you find me funny." He readjusted his glasses and took your hand away from your mouth, leaning himself forward to place a kiss on your lips.

"And I'm glad you don't mind me crushing you," You giggled again, nuzzling your nose against his own, causing him to blush before sucking his teeth at you.

"You could never." He murmured, kissing your cheek, then neck, before following up with another kiss on your lips, "You're perfect, besides, more cushion for the pushin'." As he said this he moved his hands to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze and earning himself a squeak of surprise.

"God, you're a dork." You sighed blissfully as moved his hands to your chest, massaging your breasts while he worked on decorating your neck in red. You felt the texture of his tongue run along a particularly sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver and his lips to curl into a smile before he sucked on the portion of skin.

"As long as I'm your dork, I'm okay with that."

He continued to litter your neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses, pinching your nipples teasingly before rolling them between his forefinger and thumb, hearing your gasps of pleasure as you gently tugged at his hair. Moving his head lower, he placed a few kisses at the top of your breasts before taking your right nipple into his mouth, licking tentatively at the hardening bud, still twisting at the unoccupied one.

You whimpered lightly, tilting your head back faintly as you held the back of his head, grinding down on the hardening bulge in his jeans for much needed friction. You felt him groan against your skin, lifting his hips to press into your core as you continued to grind onto him.

Without a moment to spare, Sunghoon moved on to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the right while he used his right hand to travel down your side, reaching the hem of the leggings. Before he could move any further, he felt you hand grab his, lifting it away from your hip.

"Nuh uh, shirt off first, you gotta finish this level before moving on, Hoonie," You taunted breathlessly, a small smirk grazing your lips as he released your breast with a small pop.

"Oh, I love when you speak video game," He groaned softly, flashing you a smile as he leaned away from you, reaching behind him to pull off his t-shirt and toss it off the side of the couch. "Now, pants?"

"Pants." You nodded, pushing yourself off of his lap to stand, allowing him to do the same.

Sunghoon's hands eagerly went to his belt buckle, rushing to undo the buckle and get the slightly tighter pants off of him, while you turned your back to him; bending over to give him a show as you pulled your leggings off, grinning as you heard Sunghoon groan.

"Leggings on you are a weapon to me, babe." He huffed in success as he finally pushed off his jeans, kicking them off in a pile behind him before coming face to face with you again.

You stared at each other for a heartbeat before Sunghoon chuckled, "Should we take off our underwear too before we go back to sitting?"

You thought for a second before huffing out a laugh, "Yeah, we probably should."

After taking off their underwear they resumed the previous position on the couch, kissing passionately as you hovered over his hardened cock, brushing against it every now and again with your wet cunt causing Sunghoon to shiver. He slid his hand between both of their bodies, using his finger to delve between your lower lips, feeling your wetness collect on his fingers. You moaned into the kiss, feeling your body shiver in excitement as his finger prodded at your slit before slowly sliding into your pussy; pumping a few times before he added a second, feeling your walls stretch around him.

"Sunghoon..." You moaned softly once you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his as he continued to finger you, feeling the digits slightly curl inside of you. You gasped, shortly realizing what he was searching for as he picked up the pace, his thumb starting to rub small circles on your clit.

"Almost..." He murmured, keeping his eyes on your face as he curled his fingers again.

You inhaled sharply, tilting your head back as a loud moan escaped your lips. "Sunghoon!"

"There we go." Sunghoon grinned as he continued to thrust his fingers into your warmth, feeling your juices coat his digits as you hovered above his lap. He felt your walls clench as your hips bucked into his hand, moving his thumb faster across the sensitive bud of nerves; watching as your lips stayed parted to accommodate for the moans spilling out, eyelashes resting against the tops of your cheeks.

Your entire being exuded bliss, borderline pornographic as Sunghoon felt himself grow harder at the sight, if that was even possible at this point.

"H-Hoonie, I'm close-" You whimpered, your fingers finding their way into his hair as you leaned your head into his shoulder, tugging at the black strands while moaning into his skin, feeling the knot tighten within your abdomen.

"Come on baby, cum for me," He moaned, feeling your thighs begin to shake as your moans became constant.

As he pressed his fingers into your g-spot you let out a loud moan, shaking as your walls pulsed and convulsed around his fingers. Sunghoon continued to slowly pump his fingers inside of you, easing you down from your climax as he felt you panting against his neck, leaving small kisses against the warmth of his skin.

After a moment you sat up once again, gazing into his eyes with nothing but pure love and admiration before pulling him into a slow kiss. "Now it's your turn," You murmured against his lips, a smile growing on your own as you reached for the signature hoodie that started all of this. You easily slid the article over your body, feeling the slightly scratchy fabric of the inside envelope you in warmth and the scent of Sunghoon before digging around in the front pocket to take out a condom he usually had stashed there for 'safe keeping'.

Sunghoon was breathless as he took in the heavenly sight before him; his girlfriend with your slightly messed up hair and flustered face wearing his hoodie, his hoodie, slightly large over your frame with nothing underneath as you held out a condom. Sure, you had worn his hoodie numerous times before, but this was a sight unlike any other, and boy was he enjoying it. He was snapped out of his trance once he felt your hand wrap around his cock, pumping it gingerly as he shivered, not realizing how touch deprived he felt. "F-Fuck," He breathed, rutting his hips into your hand subconsciously.

You gasped lightly, the sound of his moan shooting directly to your core as you continued to pump him a bit faster, collecting the drops of precum that leaked out of the tip with your thumb and spreading it around.

"I-If you keep it up we're gonna have to wait fifteen minutes to do this again." He whimpered out a laugh, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop your movements with a serious look. You nodded, chewing your lower lip before tearing open the packet, taking the lubricated condom between your fingers before moving off of his lap a bit to slide it along his dick; the rubber coating him almost like a second skin.

Moving yourself closer to him once again, you took his length in your hand to line him up with your slit, feeling the tip rub slightly against your pussy lips with a small moan. "Ready?"

Sunghoon nodded up at you, his hands holding your hips for support as you hovered above him, so close yet still so far.

"I need to hear you say you're ready, handsome," You breathed, a light of playfulness shining behind your eyes.

"I'm ready, baby," He practically groaned, making a mental note to get back at you for making him wait.

Nodding, you slowly slid yourself down on his cock, feeling his girth stretch your walls slightly as you continued to go down on him; a moan escaping both of your lips once your pelvises met.

Sunghoon bit his lip, fighting the urge to press your to his body and fuck you relentlessly as he felt you clench around him. You let out a small breath before steadying yourself against his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders and lifting your hips until only the head was inside of you before sinking down once again, a rush of pleasure coursing through your like electricity.

You continued the motion, speeding up once you heard Sunghoon's soft groan of pleasure; his hands helping you rise and fall against his cock at a steady pace. Opening your eyes, you looked at Sunghoon, watching as his stare was focused on his lap; watching as your pussy slid along his cock with ease. You brought your hands to the sides of his face, gently bringing his head up to meet your eyes, getting lost in the chocolate brown pools surrounded by the rim of his glasses; their breaths mingling together.

Within a heartbeat their lips smashed together, soft moans and whimpers escaping the both of them as you rode him faster, feeling his fingers squeeze against your hips as he pulled you into him. He pulled you down he thrusted his hips up out of instinct, moaning at the deeper contact he was able to reach.

"Fuck! R-Right there Sunghoon!" You mewled, gripping his shoulders tighter as you bounced, feeling his cock press against your g-spot as he thrusted into you again.

"Go-od you're so tight," He panted as he pulled you harder against him, feeling your walls clench and throb around him, feeling a familiar knot slowly begin to form in the pit of his stomach. "Hold on."

"W-Wha-" You started before you were suddenly pushed to the side, laying on your back while Sunghoon hovered over you, hiking your legs onto his hips and resting himself on his forearms for balance. He pushed himself deeper inside of your dripping pussy, causing you to moan out in pleasure at the new, and better, angle. "Oh, God!"

Sunghoon started out with a few slow thrusts before picking up speed, the sound of your moans and the lewdness of your skin slapping together filling the basement.

"You're so perfect, writhing under me like that, god you're perfect." He murmured against your ear, his words enunciated by his thrusts.

Your hands tangled themselves throughout his black locks, tugging harshly as you squeezed your legs around his hips. Moaning loudly, Sunghoon snapped his hips into yours with a near animalistic growl as he fucked you deeper, compensating for the speed.

"Hoon! Sunghoon, I-" You whimpered, your head pressing into the couch as you arched your body into his, feeling him continuously graze your g-spot with ease.

He sat up, much to your displeasure as your hands fell from his hair and took a moment to take in your position; your body bouncing against each of his thrusts as the hoodie rose up against your stomach, your breasts bouncing underneath the fabric freely while your face was wrapped in an expression of pure pleasure, eyes screwed shut and plump lips open to compensate for the moans that spilled out. He slid a hand down to your clit, rubbing the nub in quick circles in time with his thrusts, cursing when your pussy clenched around his cock once more.

"I know, cum for me beautiful, just for me," He moaned, putting off his own climax to get you to reach your climax first; a gentleman as always.

You felt the pressure in your stomach tighten before snapping completely, your eyes squeezing shut as you came against his cock. You came with a high-pitched moan of his name, your back arching slightly as he continued to thrust inside of you, helping you ride out your climax.

"I- fuck, I'll never get tired of seeing that," Sunghoon grunted, leaning over your body again as his own thrusts began to grow faster and sloppier, burying his head within the crook of your neck, sucking at your supple skin. "God you feel so good."

"G-Go on baby, cum, it's your turn," You moaned, holding him close to you as you raked your nails across his shoulders, bracing yourself against his relentless thrusts.

Sunghoon gave a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered, spilling his seed inside of the condom with a loud moan into your neck. He continued to thrust slowly, riding out his high as you whispered words of comfort, lightly running your fingers across his scalp as he panted heavily.

After a few moments of comforting silence Sunghoon slowly pulled out of you, going to dispose of the used condom before walking back to the couch; pulling on his once discarded boxers and t-shirt with a small smile on his lips. "Come on cutie, let's get you situated," He hummed, swiftly picking up your panties before dangling them in front of you.

"My legs feel like gel-o," You moaned, covering your face with your hands, the sleeves of his hoodie over them like mitts.

"Alright, you get recovery time but remember what they taught us in health class-"

"Yeah, yeah, STI's and all that," You interrupted, snatching the underwear from him as you slid them up your legs, "Cuddle while I recover, Mr. Health Enforcer?"

Chuckling lightly, Sunghoon nodded and sat on the couch, laying back on the opposite end before your maneuvered yourself on top of him; resting your head on his chest while your legs entwined.

"You know," He started, allowing his hands to move to your lower back lovingly, "You look really hot when you have my hoodie on, especially like that."

"I bet that's just the high talking." You murmured, closing your eyes to focus on the beat of his heart through his shirt.

"No, never. You always look hot to me, the hoodie just made it better because its mine, and you're mine, so it's a double whammy." He paused, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to find the right words to say. "You're not hot, actually, you're beautiful, more beautiful than words can describe, and a photo can capture. I love you because you're just, so... Indescribable."

You felt tears prick at your eyes as your heart swelled at his words, snuggling yourself closer to him with a small smile, "And I love you because you're so describable; so real, tangible, there. There are so many words to describe you I'd have to learn all the languages to use them all, and even then I'd be missing some. Every word comes so close yet so far to describing you yet they're all so valid because you're you, you're here, you're real."

Sunghoon squeezed you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "I love you so much."

"I love you too."

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: The Next Time We Fall Asleep, We Could Die! [Yandere Demon!Dabi x Reader]

Title: The Next Time We Fall Asleep, We Could Die! [Yandere Demon!Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: You try not to fall asleep--and it fails spectacularly.

For Horrorfest request: sleep paralysis demon dabi x reader please?

Word count: 700ish

notes: yandere, non-graphic sexual assault

The bedsheets underneath you are rumpled and ill-used, tossing and turning with your body as you try desperately to stay awake while still getting something like rest. An online blog said–and you hoped it was true–that if you laid down in bed and simply rested, you’d get the benefits of taking an actual power nap.

And sure, you were trying to replace your 8-square-hours-a-night with fake naps, but it had to help. Even just a little. Just a tad, just a titch. If it didn’t, well, it meant you were finally going out of your fucking mind.

But you couldn’t sleep. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You won’t. You lift your head and slam it down on the pillow to prove your point. To keep yourself awake, too. 

Because if you fall asleep, o God, if you fall asleep, you know he’ll come for you. O God, he would pin you down and make you scream and cry, and–

O God, you think, pressing your head against the cool pillow, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

“Do you always quote Hamlet when you fall asleep, or are you just feeling extra pretentious today?” A voice drawls in your ear, and no, no-no-no-no-no-no–

You can’t move an inch. Can’t do so much as blink, even. Your eyes are stuck open wide, staring into the darkness, and you smell him before you see him; the acrid smoke that sticks inside your nostrils like tar, no matter how many times you desperately breathe out, snorting like a child having a tantrum.

And then you see him, the whites of his teeth gleaming with his grin as he straddles you, body impossibly heavy as he keeps you pinned to the bed. Not that you can struggle, anyway; during these dreams, these nightmares, you can’t do so much as wiggle a finger. Move a muscle. Open your mouth to scream for help or beg for mercy that won’t come.

“You’re so cute like this,” he says, breathing hot air into your face. Everything about him is warm. His body, his breath, the touch of his fingers as they roam across your skin. He’s burned, you know that; burned and stapled up, a patchwork of stitches.

“You’re like a pretty doll for me to play with. You like that, don’t you?” 

You don’t. You want to scream this in his face. Or beg him to leave you alone. But you don’t even have the privilege of doing that. Instead you’re stuck, silent, immobile, unable to do anything but stare helplessly as he does whatever he wants with you.

He grins wider, and you swear his smile splits, but it’s so hard to tell in the dark. That’s where he always keeps you, in the dark, on your bed, underneath him as he touches and pokes and everything always leads to the same eventuality: him inside you, warm and heavy and too rough, and it’s the only time your body moves during the whole ordeal. 

Not because you gain any control over it, but because the force of his thrusts force your body to shift on the sheets, a cold sweat sticking to your back by the end of it.

Sometimes it feels like he keeps you for days instead of hours. But every time you wake up, body drenched and sore like you’ve been struggling against an impossible force in your sleep, it’s always simply the next morning. 

A simple nightmare, that’s all, you’ve told yourself time and time again. But simple nightmares don’t leave your muscles aching for days. Simple nightmares don’t waft the lingering scent of cigarette smoke over your pillowcase. 

Simple nightmares don’t always end with the same exact thing–the scarred demon kissing your cheek and crooning out,

“See you tomorrow night, yeah?”

[theereina]

Bad News Pt. 2

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC "Bella"

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, mental health mentioned (anxiety), *emotional distress*, angst, heartbreak, chronic illnesses mentioned, health conditions mentioned (c*ncer, PCOS, endometriosis), infertility, slight verbal ab*se

A/N¹: Remember, I just got back into writing. I'm open to critiques, but I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

A/N²: I am not a medical doctor. Please, forgive me if my knowledge of any of the mentioned medical conditions is incorrect.

Bad News Pt. 1=> 😢

Walking into the room, my heart was crushed even further. All of the feelings I wish I could explain; I couldn't. Terry and his bags were gone. I hadn't even heard him leave. He didn't even care enough to at least say goodbye. After all these years, I wasn't worth a goodbye. Two seconds just solidified that this relationship wasn't worth any more of my energy.

I couldn't understand it. How did we get here? Had he always been like this? Was I that blind? I guess I was so busy trying to find love that I forgot the most important rule— love wasn't supposed to hurt. Then again, every version of love I've experienced was painful, manipulative, abusive, and damaging. So, maybe I found what I was familiar with. I mean, why else would I be so comfortable putting up with this?

But, what do I do now?

*2 hours later

The room was covered in crumpled and torn pieces of notebook paper. I have tried and tried to write this letter. My hands were stiff, and my head was throbbing. I just wanted him to know how I felt because my mind was already made up. I'm done, and this is over.

If he would've just listened, we wouldn't be in this predicament. If he hadn't said those words, there would still be hope in my eyes and love in my heart.

Better yet, fuck this and fuck him. He doesn't deserve a letter. This doesn't concern him anymore. I've already changed my flight for tomorrow morning. I leave on the first flight out. Since I no longer have anything to say to him, there is no need to wait. I can return to the West Coast and be at home with my Godmother and Godsister when I receive the news.

*The next day

“I will never like flying’. I don't care!” I said stepping out of the bathroom after showering. I was dressed in a pair of sweats and a plain black T-shirt. I had wrapped a scarf around my head to protect my hair during my shower.

My Godsister, Shante, was waiting for me. She was relaxed on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her satin black bonnet and black fluffy robe made her look so much like her grandmother. “What?” she asked turning her head towards me. “You look like Nana Elsie!” I laughed into my hand. “Shut up!” she said slinging one of the pillows at me.

I walked to the bed and sat on the edge closest to me. I was tired. I knew why she was in here. She wanted to make sure I was okay. Honestly, I wasn't. My life was shit right now. Leaving Terry was just another stab to the heart. All I could do was pray to God that I didn't lose anymore. I couldn't possibly see myself being any lower than this.

“You wanna talk?” Shante asked rolling on her side facing my back. “Not really, I just wanna wait until they call,” I said solemnly. My shoulders were beginning to feel heavy again. I didn't want to think about what the doctor would say. I already knew this day was coming.

After years of medical neglect and misdiagnoses, I was finally given a proper diagnosis of both endometriosis and PCOS. I had been ignored for years when I complained of a forever-growing mountain of signs that something was wrong. I was told to “lose weight” to alleviate my symptoms. When I lost the weight, nothing changed. Some symptoms even seemed to get worse.

I had grown tired of all the referrals and guesses. I had explained to my original primary care physician years ago that I suspected that I had PCOS. It was dismissed as anxiety and medical hysteria. I tried again with three other physicians to be met with the same fate— try to lose weight, take this metformin, exercise daily, change your diet, etc.

This could have been treated years ago if someone would have just listened.

*3 hours later

I was in the kitchen eating when my cell phone rang. I picked it up thinking it was the call I had been dreading. I was eager to get this over with. Just say it, and let's move on.

“Hello, this is Bella,” I mumbled into the phone. I was on the edge again. Trying my hardest to breathe and stay calm. “Bell, where are you?” asked Terry. “Terry?” I asked pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it. Fuck! Why didn't I look before answering? Why didn't I block him?

“Bella, I'm s—,” he started to speak before I interrupted him. “Save it. I… I don't care anymore,” I said through tears. “Bells, I was—,” he started again. “No,” I said sobbing into the phone. “Could you just—!” he yelled into the phone. That was it. I didn't have to deal with this. I hung up the phone and laid it on the table in front of me.

Pushing the plate away, I laid across my arms crying with my head down. My Godmother and Godsister were both gone to work. That left me alone once again with my emotions— all of them.

ring ring ring

Not again. I picked up the phone in anger. “I don't want to talk to you!” I screamed into the phone. “Isabella? It's Dr. Moore. We need to speak about scheduling your surgery immediately,” he said in a startled tone. “I'm sorry, Dr. Moore. I'm having a…,” I said taking a deep breath. “I can call back if—,” he said. “No!” I blurted out. “Sorry. Please, tell me now,” I whimpered. I was flying between emotions faster than my body could manage.

“Well, honey. I'm sorry to bring you such bad news at this time, but we're going to need to remove your left ovary. The cysts were quite large, and… Unfortunately, the biopsy indicated they were cancerous. The safest option is to remove the affected ovary and all endometriosis deposits. Later on, we can discuss any further changes,” he said. “Changes?” I questioned while sniffling. “If it progresses any further, we may have to perform a hysterectomy.” Dr. Moore continued to talk, but I had dissociated from the conversation. This was it.

My mind was overflowing with questions. Will I be able to have kids? Would this even get rid of the cancer? If it did, would it come back? Would life ever be normal for me?

I don't know. I'll probably never know.

*Later in the day

ring ring ring

Hours had passed since the call ended. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to think. I had planned my whole life around me and Terry's relationship— kids, a house, a minivan, a dog, all of it. Now, everything was gone. Maybe my mother was right, I am cursed.

ring ring ring

“Who is it?” I sobbed into the phone. “It's me, Bella. Baby, can you please just listen to me?” Terry pleaded over the phone. “Why, huh? What’s there to listen to? You said everything you needed to say,” I yelled. All of my feelings were being overshadowed by my anger.

“I didn't mean it, Bella. That wasn't supposed to happen. I love you. You know that!” Terry yelled. “I don't know that, Terry. If you loved me, you wouldn't have said it. You meant it with all your fucking heart. You stood on it when you left without saying a word. No goodbye. No sorry. Nothing. That's not love,” I blurted out. I was beyond tired of holding my tongue. “Stop being so fuckin' childish right now and use your brain. You're always so damn emoti—,” he said cutting himself off. “Nah, say it! I'm too fucking emotional, huh? Ain't that right, Terry?” I screamed again. Tears were streaming down my face falling onto the kitchen table.

“I’m always sick, and… and I'm… I'm always emotional. That's what you… that's what you said, right? THEN, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WITH ME?!” I screamed as loud as I could. I threw the phone across the room. It hit the wall and shattered. Good. No more phone calls. No more doctors. No more — Terry.

Taglist: @avoidthings @brattyfics @slutsareteacherstoo @pocketsizedpanther

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @blowmymbackout @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy

@insidefeelingofanadult @revealingco @keyaho @jimmybutlrr @gg-trini

@nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @poektiou624 @gwenda-fav @nayaesworld

@ittsstephanieee @beenathembo @blyffe @thegreatlibraryofalex @persethegawd

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part one

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: hi again! obligatory note to say sorry i didn't update a couple days ago i meant to but i got hit by a car and then i was working lmao (i'm fine but the ao3 curse did in fact find me)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

"Mister Snow." Coriolanus's head jerks up at his name from where it was resting against his palm, nearly having fallen asleep by the side of your bed. You were out cold and had been for close to a week now, but part of him hoped he would be there when you eventually stirred.

"We have to ask you to leave now, but you can come back tomorrow after seven," The nurse tells him, a sympathetic smile on her face. This was the sixth night in a row they'd had this exact conversation.

"Of course, thank you," he grumbles as he stands up, rubbing his eyes.

"How is your mentorship going?" she asks, just for the sake of making conversation. "It is very exciting. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks..." he hums, hand sliding over his jaw in slight discomfort. He had little to no interest in his tribute. It was clear Lucy Gray had no shot at winning, and he had an even smaller shot at the Plinth Prize thanks to her. Now, he could hardly even stomach looking at her. "The Songbird," as everyone called her. 

In reality, his best friend had been forgotten the moment Lucy Gray Baird set foot on that stage in District Twelve and began to sing, and he loathed her for it. The way that all eyes turned to you next to him during the reaping as soon as his tribute's lips parted and began to sing made his stomach turn even now.

Coriolanus's eyes parted from the screen to look over at you, a small teasing smile on his face as he reached out to nudge you with his elbow when instead he was met with an expression of horror on your face. He could see the way your neck tensed as you swallowed hard, and he looks around to see almost everyone else's eyes on you as well for just a moment at a time, stealing glances in your direction.

Your jaw tightens while you grind your teeth together. She was good. But you were better at masking your discomfort with the whole situation, looking down to smooth out your black skirt where it lay across your lap and ignoring all the eyes that had fallen on you.

"It's going well," he lies in response.

"I'm glad to hear that. She's got a real talent, that girl," She smiles, and Coriolanus knows she's not trying to take a jab at the girl lying unconscious a few feet away, but he couldn't see it any other way. "Well, best of luck to her. And you, of course."

"Thanks. Have a good night," Coriolanus replies almost under his breath, taking a final glance at you fast asleep in the cold-looking hospital bed, neck bandaged down to your bruised shoulders before he leaves for the night.

It's sunny out when Coriolanus makes his daily trek to the Capitol Zoo to feed his tribute, and his academy uniform feels heavier on his shoulders than what he's used to.

His tribute smiles as she gets up and brushes off the front of her rainbow dress, making her way over to the bars to greet him. "Good afternoon, Coriolanus. Doin' well today?" she asks as he gets closer, already digging into his bag for the food he brought her.

"Fine," he mumbles in response, holding the folded napkin out to her that contains a cookie he took from the academy lunchroom.

"Thank you," Lucy Gray says as she takes it, unfolding the small cloth from around it and taking a bite. Chewing on it, she looks up at him again, taking note of the bags forming under his blue eyes. "I'm sorry about your friend."

His eyes flick from the cookie she was eating back up to hers, a slight glare behind them as he swallows stiffly. "Yes, well, she's alive," he tells her, looking back down as she breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to him.

"No, thank you," he shakes his head, pushing her hand away with his own.

"You should eat. You look like you need the energy," she says sympathetically.

He sighs because she's probably right. He takes it from her hand carefully, already breaking off a piece. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Lucy Gray knew their little routine by now. It was obvious when he brought her food the first time that he was going hungry. She had seen the signs enough back home to recognize it even here, hidden within what was supposed to be the endless opulence of the Capitol.

"Would you like to talk about it?" she asks as he begins to chew the tiny piece of the cookie, mindful of chewing and swallowing it slowly. He looks up at her again, confusion in his eyes. "Your friend, I mean." she explains.

"No." he answers quickly, shaking his head.

His semi-hostile response only leads Lucy Gray to believe that this girl she had seen get attacked meant something to him. Though, she already knew that when they walked into the zoo arm-in-arm like birds of a feather minutes before the girl was attacked, and her mentor had to be dragged away from her by Peacekeepers when a medical team finally arrived.

"Will you tell me about her?"

"About Y/N?" he asks, eyes softening just a bit.

Lucy Gray nods in confirmation, a small smile on her lips as she urges him on.

"She, uh..." Suddenly he doesn't know where to start with you. Your parents' names are what would traditionally come first in the Capitol, but he knew that would mean nothing to the girl in front of him. That you were his best and only real friend? That you were a singer, too, just like her, but you would likely never sing another note again? "She's a singer in training for the Opera House on Presidential Way. She is... she was very good."

Lucy Gray's eyes light up as he speaks. "She was a singer?"

Coriolanus nods, putting his focus back into eating.

"She must have been amazing," Lucy Gray says, trying to make comforting conversation.

"She is," he corrects her quickly, disguising it as agreement, despite having been the one to refer to your singing abilities in the past tense.

"Of course." She agrees, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I didn't mean..."

"They are making some changes to the Games." He cuts her off, wanting to move on to avoid having to think about the current state of his best friend. It makes his heart sink and the accompanying dread causes that awful burning sensation behind his eyes that makes him want to cry. "So... you need to sing again. Get people to like you. Then I'll be able to send you things in the arena to keep you alive."

Lucy Gray seems hesitant, letting out a huff with the slight shake of her head, looking around before locking her eyes back on him. "I don't sing when I'm told. I sing when I have something to say."

Coriolanus is jarred by her statement, tilting his head a bit and clenching his jaw at the notion and her ferocity behind it. He can't help it when the sudden, stark difference between Lucy Gray and his best friend hits him like a thunderstorm coming in quick on a sunny day. 

She sang when she had something to say, you sang because you had to. This fact would keep him up at night for weeks.

The games had come and gone, and there had been no winner this year. Your tribute was shot dead the day she attacked you, and Dr. Gaul saw it as some kind of justice that after your assault, the bombing, and the deaths of your other classmates, the death of all those District kids would keep their home districts from rebelling. From seeing the Capitol as vulnerable, or something like that. You really couldn't care less. At least Felix and the twins were lucky enough to have succumbed to their injuries.

The hospital was cold and dark at almost all hours of the day. You couldn't do a thing besides sit there and wait. For what, you weren't even sure.

"She's not having a good day today," The nurse informs Coryo as he checks in to visit you. He comes by every day, sometimes multiple times a day to see you, and you have your good and bad days. He's well used to that by now.

"Has she eaten?" he asks, and the nurse shakes her head.

"Refused to touch anything we brought her," She sighs, but she's fighting back a smile, which makes him raise an eyebrow at her. Why would she be smiling at that?

"She will be able to go home tomorrow," She smiles, hearing the question he never verbalized. "I thought you might like to tell her."

"Oh... I see," Coryo hums, looking down the hall toward the staircase he would soon take to get to you.

"You don't seem pleased," She states quizzically, her grin fading.

"Why is she going home?" He asks. "She still can't even speak."

The nurse looks down, pursing her lips. "As the doctor mentioned, there's no guarantee that she will ever get her voice back. I'm sorry, truly, but there's nothing more we can do for her here. It's better that she's home with her family recovering somewhere more comfortable."

"Right," He swallows, nodding curtly at her. "Thank you," He replies simply, brushing past the nurse's station to go down to your room. 

He can always hear it before he sees it, the echo of opera music cycling through your favorite records time and time again, filling the quiet hall with something pleasant as soon as he opens the door from the stairwell.

"Y/N," You look up from where you're sitting in the corner, tilting your head at him. Coryo smiles as he walks in, and you wish you were in a better mood, to be a better host; as good of one as you could be when you were in the hospital and couldn't speak a single word to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

You shake your head, a pout forming on your lips. The flowers people had brought you in your first couple of weeks were wilting, and then they stopped bringing them. Your whole life you had been praised for your voice; since you were six years old, the Capitol had seemingly been buzzing with hope for your future. You would be the most beautiful, accomplished singer Panem had ever seen - no one doubted it, but within weeks you had been completely forgotten. Replaced by the image of the girl who had sung at the reaping and once in an interview. Your room was quite a sad reflection of this, and you spent every minute of every day forced to wallow in it.

"Bad day?" Coryo asks anyway, but you just shrug, looking out the window at your sad view of the city that had abandoned you.

"Well, I've got some good news," He says, which draws your attention. You tilt your head at him, gesturing in a circular motion with your hand for him to go on.

He laughs, putting his bag down on your empty and perfectly made bed. "One second, here. In case you have questions." He pulls the small chalkboard out from the drawer next to your bed, holding it out to you with a piece of white chalk. You scrunch up your nose and wave rapidly for him to put it back. He knew it would bug you, that's why he did it, recalling the day he brought it for you and you almost threw it at him.

"I HATE writing with chalk," You scribbled quickly on a napkin with a pen you stole from his pocket, throwing the napkin at him and crossing your arms.

"What? Why?" Coryo laughed, dropping the crumpled piece of soft paper on the table next to your bed.

You shook your head, pursed your lips, and looked up, trying to find a way to explain the awful sensation without saying it. He watched you patiently as you thought, until you pretended to hold a piece of the white substance in between your thumb and forefinger, dragging it down the air slowly and pretending to gag. You shook your head again in disgust, waving your hand at him.

"Oh, I didn't know you felt so passionately about this," He drags the chalk down over the board, and you cringe, covering your ears. Coryo couldn't help but think that was just about the cutest thing he had ever seen.

That had been one of your good days, even though at the time your scar was still so fresh it was bandaged, and you were littered with bruises down to your ribs. The room was littered with fallen flower petals by now, yes, but also with what must be hundreds of notes you had shown to Coryo to express yourself in the only way you still could.

That memory still makes you smile, even if you do absolutely hate chalkboards. You walk past him and grab your notebook off the same table, picking it and the pen up as dramatically as you possibly can before sitting down on the bed and looking up at him.

"What?" He asks, just to tease you, and you roll your eyes.

'Get on with it. Also, you're not funny, and I hate you,' You write, turning the page to face him so he could read it.

"Oh, do you?" He chuckles, sitting down next to you.

You smack his arm with the book, motioning again that he should just spit it out.

"Okay! Okay, fine," He sighs emphatically, placing his hands on his thighs and looking down at the floor, just for a few moments to drive you more up the wall before turning his gaze to you. "They told me that you're going home tomorrow."

You open your mouth to speak, suddenly forgetting that you can't. You quickly shut your jaw, furrowing your brow and shaking your head. 'Why?' You mouth to him, neglecting the pad of paper in your lap.

He reads your lips, frowning at your lack of excitement. He was hoping you would be looking forward to it, but he knew you wouldn't be. Not really. "They said there isn't anything more they can do for you here, that you need to heal at home."

You stand up abruptly, throwing the paper down on the ground and clutching the pen so tight that Coryo fears it might shatter.

What do they mean "nothing they can do"? They could fix you, they could operate again, they could pump you so full of drugs that you could finally forget the hell that you're living in, that's what they could do. You couldn't even say that - or scream out your frustrations.

You turn back to Coryo, and the hurt look on your face crushes him. You want to speak to him so badly. Your lips fall open, and you try anyway. 'They're going to leave me like this?' You ask, but not a sound comes out. Not even so much as a whisper. Your throat burns regardless.

"I'm sorry," he says honestly, standing up and reaching out for you. You shake your head, forcing yourself to look anywhere but at him. "Come here..." he says softly, already wrapping his arms around you as the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall. You can't even hug him back, hands clutched to your chest as you shake under his hold.

"If I could take this from you, I would," He mumbles, shaking his head and resting his chin on your head as he rubs your back. "I'm sorry, Y/N/N."

What he wouldn't give to be able to hear your voice again.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[gilverrwrites]

Forget yourself, surrender your mind.

Black Mask/F!Reader, 2.5K ft. Platonic Jason Todd/Reader AN: So, this is based on a series of frankly depraved, evil, beautiful asks [one], [two], [three], [four]. Thank you so much anon/s! It's been tittering on complete for a while now, but I've been hesitatnt to post if as a I feel like it's missing something, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe I'll post an amended verison at a later date. Hopefully youse don't feel the same, and/or enjoy it anyway. CWs: Swearing, power imbalance, sexual misconduct - Roman is a H/R nightmare, drug use, non-graphic violence, bad drug trip, non-graphic torture, non-graphic blood, manipulation, forced exhibition, public/humiliation, degradation, dumbification/infantilization, a LOT of daddy kink, objectification, isolation, edging, hair pulling, one sided co-dependency, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self-destructive behaviours, very abusive relationship. I am being way over-cautious with this, but basically DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!

“He makes my fucking skin crawl.” Your lips are pulled into a tight scowl as you read the latest text from your boss Roman. “Look at this shit.”

Wear something extra pretty for your shift tomorrow, doll. I have something special planned for you.

Maybe you could understand if you were one of his working girls, you presume they're being paid to fuck him as well as the clientele, but you’re his fucking club's accountant. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he seems to get his kicks trying to coerce his way in your pants, and the more you reject him the more it spurs him on.

Jason considers the message with a frown before snatching your phone and scrolling up. The more inappropriate messages he sees, the more pissed off he looks. Most of it is much of the same, comments on your body and attitude, sometimes it’s worse, pure and unadulterated filth. Occasionally he throws in a legitimate work-related message, which requires an urgent reply. You’re certain he only does the latter to ensure you’re still checking each and every message.

“I told you not to take the job, and I keep telling you to quit.” He finally replies, handing back your phone and crossing his arms. The stormy expression and his imposing stature might be enough to scare anyone else into caving, but this is Jason. Your best friend Jason. You’d been through thick and thin. You’d watched him drunkenly recite Jane Austen in nothing but socks and a fuzzy pink towel for Christ's sake. He doesn’t frighten you. “He’s a creep, why do you keep working for him?”

“The pay is insane.” You reply instantaneously because it is. You’ve almost paid off half your student loan in a matter of months. And that’s on top of all the gifts. You know you shouldn’t take them, blood money and ill-gotten gains blah blah blah but some of it was just too good to turn down. Not to mention the dope. The perks of the job really outweigh the cons, you can deal with Romans vulgar attitude towards you, at least until your loans are paid and your savings account is bloated.

You love Jason dearly, but he’ll blow a fucking gasket if he found out you were taking bribes and drugs from Black fucking Mask. For a casino owner, he’s always been a bit of a stickler. So, you keep that secret for yourself, and you don’t feel bad about it. He has his secrets too. Unfortunately, real life isn’t like an episode of The Sleep Over Club.

“I worry about you.” Jay is still looking at you with that scrutinising glare, too bad it won’t work on you.

“I can handle Roman.” You roll your eyes as you attempt to reassure him. “Really Jay, I promise. He’d have to kill me before I would give him what he wanted.”

That felt so long ago. A far off memory that you hadn’t thought about since before the turning point in your relationship with Roman. It was laughable really. Kill you? Roman saved you.

He’d told you Red Hood was responsible, but you can’t really remember. You’d been high on a bad trip; a newbie had cut the stuff wrong apparently. All you can recall is being lost and alone, unable to command your own body when a bright light hit you out of nowhere, your ears were ringing, and then there was a gun in your face and finally Roman, your knight in a skull-shaped mask.

He’d made let you watch when he’d dealt with the idiot who fucked up the formula, and again you don’t want to remember much, just all that blood, all the screaming, and the thought that you never wanted to be in that position. Red Hood on the other hand was still at large, still a risk, but you weren’t scared of him. Why would you be scared of him when you had Roman. To protect you of course.

All he asked for in exchange was your unwavering submission loyalty.

It was good for you, Roman had helped you in a lot of ways. Keeping you safe, taking the weight off your shoulders. He’d made you realise what an uppity bitch you’d been.

It had been hard at first, accepting what you really are, who you belong to. It went against your core values to swallow your pride and comply to his whims, but you learned that he knew what was best.

The drugs help too. They make it easier to ignore the looks you get. At first, they made you uncomfortable; pitying glances from your former co-workers, judgement and disgust from strangers that cut deeper than you’d thought, mostly lust-filled leering from Roman's followers and his business associates.

But your objectification made Roman happy, and a happy Roman kept you safe happy.

You’re not sure when it happened but eventually, you stopped working, and not worrying about all those numbers felt good. “Don’t think about the money baby just pick whatever you want.”

After numbers came reading, “Those are some big words, why don’t you just point to the pictures.”

Then Roman cleverly pointed out that you didn't need a phone. Carrying around a phone usually meant carrying around a bag, and the ugly old bag you'd had since college really clashed with your pretty dresses.

Besides, what would you do with a phone? Text? Words are hard. Videos? Too much fake news out there, it would only scare you. Call someone? Who? You had everything you need right here.

Giving up decision-making came so naturally after that. “Don’t worry Princess. Daddy knows what you need.”

Roman Daddy helps a lot, he keeps you in line, reminds you of your place. Sometimes you need a firm hand and he’s never been afraid to give it to you. But mostly he just keeps you grounded.

Like now. It would be easy to focus on the hard sticky floor digging into your knees. To feel shame at wilfully allowing someone to treat you like this, at the idea of being watched in such a degrading position by the patrons of the bar or the man on the other side of the table. But you have Daddy to keep you focused. The scratchy feel of his slacks on your cheeks, his fingers in your hair, petting you like a good girl.

The best part is the muskiness of his crotch against your nose. He smells so yummy! It’s a challenge not to stick your tongue out and taste him. The last time you’d done that you’d gotten carried away, drooling all over him, making a large wet patch on his expensive trousers and getting drool everywhere. He’d punished you by having you clean up as much of the remaining excess with your mouth. That meant sucking at the velvety pillowed fabric of the chair and licking the filth-trodden floor. You’d hated every second, but you’d been happy to do it, eager to convince Daddy to keep you.

And it worked!

The memory of it, helps you to stave off the urge to make out with his clothed groin right now. What doesn’t help is the throbbing clit between your legs. Daddy edges you multiple times a day but rarely does he let you cum, that way you’re always wet and needy and ready for his cock. The punishment for trying to get off without him? More proof of Daddy's brilliance. The thought of it dampens any impulse to alleviate the constant ache. You’d broken down and apologised before it even began, begged him to make it stop but he’d had you sit through the whole thing; an hour with your legs open, completely exposed to the False-Facers. No fucking, but otherwise they could do what they liked, touching, slapping, pinching, spitting, and that they did. Your lesson had been learned; that your pussy wasn’t yours. It, along with the rest of your body belongs to Daddy, not you and he can do as he pleases with it.

The hand in your hair suddenly tightens its grip, drawing you from your thoughts and guiding your head back to look at Daddy as he asks; “What are you think about baby?”

“You!” You smile at the sight of his handsome mask.

Cold glass brushes against your lips and you open up, tilting your head back to allow him to pour the sweet liquid in. It burns as it passes through your throat and makes your eyes water. You think you didn’t like cocktails like this before, but Daddy says you love them, and Daddy is always right.

“Good girl.” He coos, making you feel all warm and fuzzy with pride. “You’ve been so well-behaved today, why don’t you come sit on my lap and meet my new friend.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” You clamber to get closer to him, sitting across his lap and leaning the side of your head against his chest. You’re enjoying his warmth and the feel of his hands on your body when you hear something odd. A deep voice shouts a word you recognise but can’t define and it pings around the empty walls of your tiny brain.

“This is Jason Todd.” Daddy’s still talking, big words you don’t care about like ‘shareholder’ and ‘investing’ as he finds a place to settle his wandering hands. One supports your weight, cupping your ass. The other shamelessly gropes your breast, twisting and pinching your pert nipple through the sheer fabric of your dress. A loud, pornographic moan escapes your glossy lips as you relish in Daddy's attention until you hear that word again.

“It’s me. It’s Jason.” It’s the same voice, chipping away in your unconscious. “It’s Jason Todd.”

Jason. Jason Todd. Another sound that you can’t quite put your finger on.

Jay-son Todd.

Jay-son.

Jay.

Finally, you look at the stranger, his mouth is moving. It’s his voice you’d heard before, he says the word again and you think you should know it, but you can’t quite grasp it.

“Have you met Jason before, baby?” Daddy's hold on you tightens, biting into half-healed wounds partially hidden by your clothes.

At the same time, the stranger barks, making you jump. “What the fuck?”

And then that word again and this time it clicks.

It’s your name.

You forgot your own name.

Shame hits you like a bucket of ice water. Trickling through your body in waves as it all comes back to you. And the man, that’s…

“Jason!” Your best friend Jason. “What are you doing here?”

God, what must he think of you; doing tricks like a damn dog for Daddy a man you swore you’d never let touch you.

“Looking for you.” He’s on his feet and towering over you in seconds. He has such a substantial frame. You always thought you’d recognise it anywhere. “I haven’t heard from you in months.”

Months? Had it really been months?

“Your phone line is dead. I went to your apartment and all your shit was on the curb. You’ve not been paying your bills or watering your plants. I thought you were dead.”

Concern is etched into his blue-green eyes and it’s too much. The indignity of your behaviour, the guilt at making him worry, making him come here looking for you, all those words. So many words. Roman says your brain isn’t meant for lots of words.

Jason grabs you, his meaty hand clutching onto your upper arm and attempting to pull you toward him. It does not have the desired effect, the rational part of your brain snaps under the stress of the overwhelming situation like he’s shining a spotlight on you in your most vulnerable moment, like he’s attacking you, and you can think of nothing in this world you want less than to go with him.

“Daddy!” While Jason’s tug is enough to send a jolt through your body, to your relief it isn’t enough to pull you from Daddy's arms. Instinctively, you pull his arm closer for comfort, unaware of how you’d been digging your nails into the sleeve of his suit jacket until you utilise it as a safety net. “Make him stop.”

The look on Jason’s the man’s face is that of pure horror. It hurts to look at, so you nestle deeper against Daddy's chest, soothed by the way it shakes as he chuckles, despite the evident venom lacing the sound. His neck is a deep shade of red. Angry veins bulge with each beat of his battery-powered heart. “You heard her, kid. Take a hike.”

“I’m not leaving without her you sick fuck.” And then the man puts his other hand on you, this one cupping your face, encouraging you to look at him. He’s trying to console you. Instead, he frightens you. “You don’t have to stay here. Whatever he’s got on you, we...”

You let the words pass in one ear and out the other, with no desire to retain any of it.

Daddy is not going to like this. Not only had the scary man tricked him, but now he’s touching you. Trying to take you away. Daddy is really not going to like this.

The man tries once more to snatch your body and this time he succeeds. You squeal as your body harshly lurches forward. Your fears are cut shut, however. Daddy protects you, grabbing you ruthlessly by the throat and kicking the back of your heel. You go limp, allowing his vice-like hold on your neck to lead you back to the floor.

"You Wayne's think you own every fucking thing." Daddy strikes the table with his fist, and something wet slashes into your face, followed by a loud shattering sound. You don't care.

"Don't compare me to him. He's got nothing to do with this."

"Like father like fucking son. You're under my roof boy, and you have the nerve to put your hands on my shit!"

It’s becoming a spectacle. People are watching. You don’t want to look, don't want to listen.

Closing your eyes, you kneel in front of the booth, settling your head onto the warm space where Daddy had been sitting.

They’re both shouting, it makes your head hurt. Something cool is seeping down your face. What sounds like a gun goes off. Once, twice, three times. You don’t care. You don’t want to care. You want to go back to ten minutes ago when your head was empty, and your Daddy was happy.

His lingering scent helps you find that headspace until he returns.

“Look at me.” Once again, he uses your hair to yank your head back, directing you to face him. Despite the way you wail in surprise, the sting is a welcomed reassurance that you’re where you belong. Dark red blood mars his white suit. You don’t look for a body or an injury. You just keep looking at Daddy. “Oh, my poor baby, you’re shaking. It’s okay, Daddies here.”

Daddy puts you at ease.

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 2 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Unsure in your decision to leave your parents, you fight your mind and your ailing body, doubting your next steps alongside the new stranger.

Author’s Notes: Chapter two of this one. This story is set a few years before the game, so the gang members will reflect that. There are descriptions of illness and injury in this chapter.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Two: Spiting Survival

Word count: 3408

Found a girl out on the trail this morning. Well, woman I should say, only she’d just lost her parents to a nasty fall off a cliff. She somehow survived it. And now she’s with me, more wild animal than woman, holding on best she can to survive.

Don’t know why I felt the need to play hero. Maybe Dutch and Hosea will know what to do with her, as it has become increasingly obvious I do not.

~

The stranger—Arthur—had a little brown book not so different from your father’s. He had just finished scribbling something in it when your restlessness gave way and you finally sat beside the fire he had built.

He stashed the book, eyeing you. “You wanna eat something? You got to be hungry.”

It was night, a long day of traveling behind you. It seemed the folks this man ran with were quicker than most caravans of that size—you hadn’t run into them yet.

You shook your head. As hungry as you were, you couldn’t eat. It would just come right back up.

“You need to eat,” he pushed. He didn’t understand it. Any of it. You were exhausted, starved, pained. Each of those things helped distract you when distraction was as precious as gold. It was taking all you had not to turn right back around and walk all the way you had come.

You just looked at him, long enough to make him shake his head at you in defeat. Good. You wanted to be left alone. The sole reason you had agreed to come with him was beginning to be lost on you with every step away from that godforsaken bridge.

The fire took your attention as the night air closed in. You and your parents had left Montana too late in the year, autumn biting at your heels all the way. It would snow soon. You felt a brief moment of panic, knowing it would bury their graves deep enough for them to be difficult to find. But there was the tree. You wouldn’t forget that worn pine.

A popping sound drew your eyes—the man had opened a can of food and was holding it out to you. You stared, refusing to take it. He sighed in annoyance and got up, walking to you and setting it down at your feet with more force than necessary. He held your gaze, a hard determination in his own. “Eat.” He didn’t wait to see if you would obey before turning toward his bedroll. He settled on top of it, punching his makeshift pillow too hard. “And get some rest. I ain’t slowing pace tomorrow.”

You were torn by that. Where did you go from here? When you did catch up to that caravan, you knew you couldn’t bear to stay with them. So it would be onto the next town. Then what? Struggle to make a living as a working girl or a maid? You were better off in the woods. You had been raised on a small homestead, hunting every meal, working with your hands. You didn’t know anything else. It was foolish to think some little life in a town would suit you. You wondered if you could make it to Nebraska somehow, but that journey would take weeks. Maybe months given the snow.

You knew what you really desired—what you had dreamed of since you were old enough to dream of such things. But your parents hadn’t wanted that life for you. Montana was too far behind you anyway.

At the thought of your parents, you shook off the longing within you and looked to the can of food at your feet. Just as with them, the least you could do was try. No matter how much it pained you.

You took the can—beans—and ate with held breath, forcing it down. It was misery, but you finished the whole thing then got up to resume your pacing. It kept the cold off and your relentless thoughts at bay.

You walked over to the man’s horse, a fine beast he called Boadicea. She was watchful but not spooky, keeping a close eye on your approach. You held out a hand to her. She reluctantly sniffed it. Being with her felt natural. Easy. The sole thing to feel that way. You gave her a few strokes against her broad neck then stepped away. Needing to move again. To shake off the constant dread within you, namely due to the remembrance of your own stallion. You were glad you hadn’t looked to see the state of him. You didn’t think you could stomach that. Though, that thought brought on the sharp image of your mother’s bent leg. You got all of two steps before you felt your stomach turn. The feeling reminded you of falling, and you were suddenly back there, the world upside down, everything you knew raining down.

You vomited every bit of your dinner, still heaving when there was nothing left to rid yourself of.

~

Morning came, and you had hardly slept. You could hardly function. Each thought was a broken pane of the present and the past shattering against each other. Speech, movement, survival, it was all lost. All to the truth of things.

“You all right back there?”

You were staring, dead eyed, at nothing as you rode. Hands clenched around the man’s coat so tight you couldn’t feel your fingers. You would fall if you let go. You would not fall again.

The man turned in your grip, throwing you a glance you couldn’t make out as you wouldn’t meet it.

“Ain’t gonna pass out on me are you?”

Endless questions. You longed for the day he would give up trying.

His horse trotted on, the sun rising higher and higher. It was hours before you heard voices. Wagons.

“Look who it is,” a man said. The confident voice caught your attention, and you met its owner with hesitant eyes. “And who’s this?”

“We got a passenger,” your savior responded. If that was what he could be called.

“So I heard.” The man turned his horse back to join the two of you. It was only when he got close that you could make out the look in his eye—curiosity. Too much of it. “Name’s Mac.”

You just stared.

“She ain’t much of a talker I’m afraid. Where’s Dutch? I need a word.”

The man nodded ahead. “Second from the front. Says we’ll be stopping soon.”

The mare picked up her pace below you, rounding the rearmost wagon. You were glad to be out from under the scrutiny of one pair of eyes, but soon came more. Many more. And with all the staring came the grounding present, your reality thrust upon you without warning. It was exhausting. You turned away, looking to the wood line, clinging to the stranger.

The horse eventually slowed. “Hi, Dutch.” You refused to look, to put a name to a face.

“Arthur. I was beginning to worry,” said a deep voice, one of the two men who had come down on the wagon yesterday.

“Oh, we managed just fine. You made good timing.”

“So we have. We’re stopping soon to water the horses, set up camp for the night. Hosea says there’s a good spot down the way.”

“Dry and warm,” said another voice. The older man. “It’ll do for now. And how’d you get on? I see you still have your friend there.”

“Indeed,” said the man you rode with. Arthur. Thought it felt wrong to call him that. “Like I said, we managed. I figured she could stay with us ‘til she figures out what she wants to do.”

“Sure,” the older man replied. “What’s one more?”

Arthur laughed. “You got that right.”

The proud voice, Dutch, spoke again. “Why don’t you ride on ahead Arthur, pick us out a good spot to land this makeshift menagerie? The girl can stay with us.”

You tightened your grip, hard enough for the man to take notice. You wouldn’t be left behind with these strangers.

“Uh, I think it’s probably best we both go.” He nodded toward you. “She’s still a little skittish.”

The man chuckled in response. “Whatever you say.”

You were being ridden away from the sound of all those creaking wagons before you so much as breathed again.

“So.” It was taking all your energy to listen. To keep the thought of broken boards and bodies out of your head. “What is your plan exactly? You staying with us?”

You shook your head. He of course couldn’t see it.

After a beat, the man sighed and reached for the satchel strapped across him. He pulled something out of it and passed it over his shoulder—your mother’s necklace. Your mind went numb with it, with the shine she always polished into it. She was so proud of that necklace that she never even wore it, too afraid to break it or lose it. How was it here?

“Figure these belong to you. Wouldn’t have taken them if I’d known you were-”

“Keep it.” You were shoving the necklace back in his hand, preventing him from pulling out some other item you couldn’t bear to look at. All you needed was the ledger. The rest was too painful to think about.

“Okay.” He seemed surprised. Let him be. You were too busy feeling regret curl within you again, your last words spoken no longer to your parents. It was a silly thing, but it felt like all you had to hold onto. So you clamped your mouth shut again, refusing to utter another word.

After less than twenty minutes, the man slowed his horse. “Here we are. This is a good spot.” You looked over his shoulder at the small clearing, a river running near it. It would be a good place to keep all those wagons and people. The thought had you retreating in on yourself, ready to bolt. You had nowhere else to go, but you considered it. Maybe they had an extra horse somewhere you could leave on. The idea of the next town certainly felt more doable than this. Than all those eyes on you, looking at the woman who had cheated death.

The man circled around a few times before letting his horse walk over to the water and drink. The river was small, barely a creek. You would normally appreciate it after all this travel, but you couldn’t think of that now. Now came a decision—what to do with yourself. For the rest of your life. And now was a better time than any being away from all those people. You slid off the horse, landing softly on your feet, preparing to speak. It was inevitable now. The man looked down at you, and you forced yourself to look up at him.

“I need to be going.”

He frowned, a more annoyed-looking thing than an upset one. “And you plan on, what, walking it from here?”

You looked to your feet, not knowing how to answer. It made him sigh, like he had to do it to regain his patience. “We’re headed down to Colorado, should be a little less than a month. Why not just come with us? We got plenty of food and shelter. It’ll be a lot easier on you.”

You were beginning to think he was a little ignorant. Either that or stubborn. He didn’t get it.

“No.”

He stared this time. Then, “No, huh? Well I’m sorry, but I can’t-”

“I have family. In Nebraska.”

He considered you. “That’s quite a trip.”

It wasn’t much farther than Colorado. You weren’t about to mention where in Nebraska though, that it would take more than a month.

He shook his head when you didn’t answer. “Just let them get here, get yourself settled for the night. Then you can decide whether you want to lose all this or not.”

Wrong choice of words. You’d already lost everything. You left him sitting there atop his horse, storming away toward the nearby trees. It was taking everything in you to keep your anger driving things, to keep the reason for your miserable circumstances at a distance.

You hid like a coward when the wagons pulled in, going deeper into the woods so as not to be confronted. It was probably ruining your chances of getting any help from these people, but you didn’t care. Surviving your innermost thoughts was all that was left. This was the only way to make things bearable.

The day went on, and your exhaustion from such little sleep the night before began to catch up to you. You had been hungry for a while now, the pain in your side throbbing for hours, but you ignored them both. The nearby river caught your attention instead.

You walked over to it, taking a glove off and brushing your fingers against the water. It was freezing. The shock of it made you suck in a breath, and the motion had your side stitching up in teeth-gritting pain. You knew then you had to tend to it or likely die of it.

You made to peel your coat away and winced. Not from the pain—it revealed blood underneath, dried against your shirt where it stuck out from under your vest. You hadn’t even noticed, too caught up in everything else to worry about yourself.

You reluctantly unbuttoned your vest, then your shirt. Pulled up your chemise. You braced yourself, reaching for where the pain was worst.

“Looks like you’re banged up pretty good there.”

You whipped around to the sound of the unfamiliar voice—the man from before. Mac? He was staring at your side, at the blood giving you away now that your coat wasn’t hiding it.

Panic rose up in your throat like bile, half-choking you with fear. You didn’t want him here. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t run. Just stood there staring at him.

“Easy there, I come in peace.” He held up his hands as if in surrender but stepped closer. Caging you in against the river. “You need to tend to whatever’s making you bleed like that.”

You knew it wasn’t bleeding anymore. Each subtle movement of breath against your ribs revealed dried, cracked blood. But the wound would reopen if this man got any closer, for you would be sprinting away from him any second.

“Mac, leave the woman alone.” This from the lone voice you were familiar with. Arthur. Come to rescue you a second time. He walked out of the woods and set a hand on the other man’s shoulder, stopping his approach.

“I weren’t doing nothing but trying to help. Look at her.”

Arthur’s eyes landed on you, on your side all bloodied. They narrowed. You fought the urge to run again.

“Go back in camp, would you?” he asked the other man, never taking his eyes off you. “You’re scaring her off.”

“You go back in camp,” the man shot back.

“Mac,” Arthur warned, looking him in the eye. There was no room for argument in his voice.

The other man scoffed and shoved Arthur’s hand away, grumbling under his breath as he turned back. You watched him go, breathing coming easier with his every step away. The stranger didn’t seem overly threatening. You just couldn’t bear to be near him. Near anyone for that matter, except, seemingly, for the one who had rescued you. Buried your parents. Ridden you all this way.

“Sorry about him,” he said, not coming any closer. Like he saw escape written across your face. “He means well.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t be so sure.

“That don’t look so good.” He pointed to the deep red staining your shirt. The motion drew your eyes to it, and where you were scared to look before, you did now. You shouldn’t have. You felt your stomach turn again.

Your entire side was black with one giant bruise. In the middle lay scraping lines of red leading to a cut so jagged it was a wonder the bleeding had stopped. You were accosted with memory, the reason behind such injury—falling, hitting the wagon, nearly passing out from the pain of it before you hit the ground.

The wagon had broken your fall.

“I can get someone to tend to that. Bring you some supplies.”

The words were meaningless. The wagon had kept you from death, and this mangled black and red mass was all you had to show for it. The only thing keeping you alive. You suddenly fell to your knees over the reality of it, feeling sickness push up your throat. Your empty stomach prevented anything from coming up, and you sat there heaving again, just as you had the night before.

“Wait right there. I’ll get help.”

“No,” you choked out.

“Don’t be stubborn. You need-”

“No.”

Your body gave up trying to expel what wasn’t there, and you looked over at the man, breaths coming in sharp and painful.

He shook his head at you. Then approached. “Let me see then.”

You moved back. He kept coming anyway. You didn’t have it in yourself to fight him. Too weakened by the idea that you would be with your parents now if it weren’t for this injury.

The man came over and pulled your shirt to the side, your bunched-up chemise higher.

“Shit.” You watched his face. The concern in his eyes. “This could have killed you.”

Maybe so. Maybe you’d been hoping for that.

“We gotta get this stitched up or the skin’ll die. It’s a wonder it ain’t infected already.”

All just words, white noise. Meaningless in the grand scheme of things. If it weren’t for this ugly wound, you’d be at peace now. You felt a sob escape you as you knelt even lower, pushing the man’s hands away. He let you down, and you curled in on yourself, overcome by it. If only you’d fallen differently. Been sitting with your parents instead of on the back. Then the wagon wouldn’t have been in the way of the one thing you longed so deeply for.

Sobs shook your shoulders, but no tears escaped. Like you’d cried them all away.

“I’m gonna go get something for that wound. Stay here.”

You didn’t have to be told. You didn’t even have it in you to move.

You were a mess of memory and pain when the man returned, his hand finding your shoulder and rolling you onto your back.

“This is going to hurt,” he said. Let it.

You kept your eyes shut tight, afraid of what you were letting him do. Mending you. But your fear and your grief and your agony were all bundled up so tightly within you that you stayed still.

You felt something wet push against the edges of the wound, drawing a sharp breath from you. The bruise was the worst part. Any higher and you would have shattered your ribs. But instead you were a beaten hull, nothing left underneath. Nothing that mattered.

The pressure got to be too much. You tried to push his hands away.

“Stay still,” he demanded. You pushed again. “This ain’t even the worst part. Either you let me do it, or I’ll go get someone else.”

That stopped your protests.

After another minute of brutal pressure, he let out a short breath, like he was steeling himself. You forced yourself to keep your eyes closed for what came next.

“I ain’t the best at this.”

His voice was smaller than you’d ever heard it. You didn’t need that.

“Just do it,” you hissed.

Then there was pain, sharp and pinpointed on the skin that was already so shredded. Then it threaded, and happened again, and soon you were shoving your fist in your mouth to have something to bite down on. You cried out. It was getting worse, pain on top of pain. Tumbling into the harshness of all that had happened, trauma of the mind colliding into your will. It was too much. All of it. Your felt your body finally begin to give up. You clung onto the feeling with all you had, praying for death to take you.

You called out to your parents with one final breath, darkness closing in on the pain and on your mind until you unraveled and were no more.

_________

Chapter three is here.

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 1 - Convenience ▸Shigaraki x femReader

Summary: “Say, I’ll make you a killer deal,” he begins, the tone of his voice deceptively even, failing to mask the coldness. “If you fucking apologize to me right now, and manage to clear things up with the professor before—” He slides his sleeve just above his expensive-looking smartwatch and casually checks the time, “—the class ends, in about… mmh, give or take three minutes? I promise you won't regret this as much as you will if you do go through with this stupid shit you started with me.”

His face breaks into a slow and creepy smile as he threatens you, body emanating nothing other than incredible malice.

You wish you could turn back time and never cross his path, that stupid night at the store.

You wish you were a different, nicer person, one that knows when to bow their head or to apologize if they messed up.

But you weren’t and you won’t. Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three

Chapter 1 - Convenience Pitter-patter.

With a pop of your joints, you reach for the moon or the ceiling or maybe the gods above. You reach and you reach and finally you feel that satisfying stretch burn through your muscles.

What time is it anyway?

Uh-oh.

You cringe, because the birds are chirping, the first light of the day is starting to show, and because… you’ve been gaming your entire fucking Saturday night.

It’s 4:30 AM when you check your phone.

—And you could’ve been studying, could’ve been in touch with your project buddies, to at least send them your part of the project in time. But you didn’t and you won’t.

Not at least until tomorrow anyway.

Tomorrow, probably around ten minutes before your group’s deadline.

Yeah, you’re that special kind of asshole.

Looking around yourself, you realize that—all of the sudden, the room feels so fucking stuffy you could suffocate. It’s messy and god fucking knows when you opened your goddamn windows last.

So that’s exactly what you decide to spend your next action point on, as your mind briefly wandered back to your past few Valorant matches. 

You actually stayed up late, trying your best to climb to Diamond and dealing with the hyper-misogyny of random pathetic incel teammates who immediately shit themselves the moment a woman opens her mouth on mic.

Whatever.

At least you weren’t living in your mommy’s basement, swimming in a sea of trash, right?

You glance around your room and wince.

Okay, maybe you’re swimming in like—a puddle of trash. 

But that’s okay, because you’re definitely way above those goblins on a societal level… right?

You don’t dwell very much on that particular thought.

With a yawn, you reach for the windows and open them wide. The cool air of soft autumn rain invades your stale room the second you open them, replacing the warm stuffiness of your man-cave and filling your lungs with fresh oxygen.

You wonder how long it’s been raining for already, when you feel your stomach—the one vital organ you’ve purposefully been ignoring all night—growling. What did you eat today?

When the fuck did you eat last, actually?

“Uuugh—” you whine, finally feeling the shakiness of your hands and the overall weakness of your body. 

On your way towards your joke of a kitchen, you decide what flavor cup noodles to scarf down quickly before you hit the hay. Your internal debate is torn between two particular flavors, before you open the cupboard and realize—there aren’t any instant noodles left.

God fucking damn it.

You briefly glance down over your sorry excuse of an outfit—one that would put homeless people to shame—made up of plain black sweats and an oversized black hoodie, noting how you should also maybe perhaps take a fucking shower after literally sweat-gaming all day.

Fuck it, you think, taking a total of two seconds to decide that this was good enough for the world, before you set off to the nearest twenty-four hour convenience store.

So you grab your phone, your keys, and that’s what you do.

────────

Despite the hints of a rising sun, it’s still pretty dark outside. The air smells like fresh morning rain and wet concrete.

You don’t mind, because to your own delight, it couldn’t be quieter around here.

The neighborhood you live in is incredibly sketchy, but you couldn’t complain given it’s barely a fifteen minute walk to your university and the rent to your rundown one-bedroom apartment is dirt fucking cheap.

It suits the broke ass bitch that you are and you like it this way—one, because you have a thing for sketchy run-down places and two… because it’s yours and yours alone.

The totally-legal-and-definitely-wont-blind-you pepper spray you bought from the shadiest internet store sits snugly in the pocket of your hoodie, one hand occasionally fidgeting and feeling the rim of the object. 

Knowing you have something to use in your defense makes you feel safer when you’re outside. You never know when something unpleasant could go down.

You’re so used to being on-guard after all the years of shitty experiences. 

Of being on your own.

Of stupid shit that kept happening to you.

So you walk, if only with a smear of anxiety, because you still need to stay vigilant and not put the universe to a fucking test.

The first thing you notice when you waltz into the corner store, is how goddamn bright the fluorescent lights are. They’re far too bright for your tired eyes that are used to endless hours of staring into dimmed screens with the lights off.

The second thing you notice is how eerily quiet it is inside—save for the whirring, clicking and occasional gurgling of the refrigerators in the back. Or at least that’s where you think the sounds come from.

It’s odd that the current shift didn’t think of turning on the radio to fill the silence—to make this place feel less like a ‘bad end’ location from a horror game—but a quick glance towards the staff at the counter and their wireless earpieces tells you that they couldn’t give less of a fuck about the store’s ambiance.

Not that it matters, when you’re too busy surveying the shelves in search of some food, of something edible, the ‘food’ in question consisting mostly of snacks and other nutritionless garbage that would give nine point five out of ten doctors a cardiac arrest.

Speaking of heart failure, you find yourself in front of the refrigerated drink aisle, using all of your brain wrinkles to make your hardest decision yet.

Which one of the canned heart attack flavors are you gonna buy today?

You hum, spending a good three minutes (give or take) thinking, and when you finally go ahead, reaching with your fingertips to grab the energy drink—

“Hey,” a low and grating voice speaks right behind you.

The sound makes you fucking jump.

You turn around with a scowl and then—straight out of a comedy skit, you feel like you’re staring at your male doppelgänger.

An extremely sketch-looking guy, wearing black sweats that match your own, the hood of his equally dark colored hoodie up and covering a messy mop of white hair.

And then you notice his… his intense crimson colored eyes, drilling a hole through the middle of your fucking skull.

If only looks could kill.

“Did you need something?” You fail to mask the venom in your voice, aimed at him for no good reason.

A skin care routine, you think.

Not like you bothered with one either, but at least your face isn’t disintegrating into disgusting flakes yet, unlike his punk ass.

Motherfucker couldn’t have waited two fucking minutes for you to pick something? 

Where the fuck do you have to be at like 4:50 in the morning?!— you scoff, but the words remain yet unspoken.

The hooded figure raises his hand to scratch at his pale neck, seemingly annoyed at your shitty attitude towards him. 

He just has to meet the worst type of bitch at this ungodly hour, on a Saturday no less—and he isn’t having it. 

Red eyes stare you down for a moment, watching your face scrunch up at his sight.

“You’ve been standing in front of the drinks for like ten fucking minutes, ugly ass bitch.” He finally claps back, and with that, your eyes narrow. “Pick something or get the hell outta my way.”

“I was just about to, asshole,” you reply, voice betraying you and ultimately cracking while you seethe. “Grab your stupid ass drink so you can finally go home to the boys and cry about not getting any.” 

You finish your sentence and stand aside for him, motioning to the drinks all the while his eyes widen in what you presumed to be shock—but before he has the chance to respond, you hurry the fuck up and leave.

The poor employee at the counter who saw the scene playing out (store ain’t that big, now), seems to want nothing to do with any of this. Graveyard shifts must be really fucking fun when you’re graced with not one, but two annoying idiots.

You drop all of your items on the counter and while the cashier is scanning them, you pat all four of your pockets, looking for your wallet to pay.

Until it dawns on you.

No fucking way—

Ain’t no fucking way your stupid, braindead ass forgot to bring money.

This isn’t fucking happening to you right now.

Especially since the embodiment of patience is standing just a few inches behind you, shifting uncomfortably from one leg to the other and waiting with bated breath for you to finally pay and get lost.

“Uhh. Do—Do you guys keep tabs open?” you ask, recoiling at the sound of your own voice, scratching at the back of your head sheepishly and almost whispering the second half so the guy behind you wouldn’t be able to hear it. “I kind of… forgot my wallet at home.”

The cringe that is already coursing through your veins, deepens infinitely when you see the employee stare at your face, as if you grew a second head.

“No.”

Your humiliating predicament makes the guy behind you break into the creepiest snicker. You shoot him a glare and dare him to say something, but he’s too busy laughing at you.

God, if only the ground would swallow you whole, right fucking now.

With the worst shades of shame coloring your face, you turn around to leave, swearing to never set foot in this fucking establishment ever again. Nevermind that it’s the only store close to your house.

Before you have the chance to make good on your promise, the white haired guy reaches out—if a bit hesitant—and grabs your arm.

What’s the chance a nuke would crash into this fucking store and wipe out your entire existence, together with whoever is here to fucking witness this? Or maybe aliens could finally make contact with planet Earth and take you the fuck away. Getting your ass probed sounds infinitely more appealing than this incredible embarrassment you feel in front of the two assholes.

“Hold.”

Your pathetic gaze lifts from the ground and when you meet his eyes he looks—amused?

“What. Let go of me, man.” You panic, trying to free yourself from his grip, but his fingers are firm. Is that blood under his fingernails?

“I’ll pay,” he offers, a disturbing smirk playing on his dry lips.

This fucking guy.

“N-No, I’m good. Thanks.” Your voice is shaking more than you want it to and you feel tears finally prick at your eyes.

Why do you live your life this way? Why are you so fucking pathetic—especially in front of assholes like him?

Why are you still so weak? 

After everything you’ve been through?

You try once more to shake him off of you, but he’s deceptively strong for his build, and doesn’t relent now that he’s got you where he wants you to be.

“It’s okay, really. This just made my night so I’m gonna pay for ya,” he says, the almost-even tone in his voice not matching the way his creepy smile seems to be getting wider.

He swiftly pulls out some scrunched-up bills from the pocket of his sweats, slipping them to the employee who could not give less of a fuck about whoever pays first, grabbing your already-bagged purchase and basically shoving it to you as he gives his best ‘Come again soon!’ bullshit line that actually translates to ‘Please fucking leave the store already’.

“How about that, huh? Now you owe me one, little bitch,” he whispers into your ear, voice low and full of grit sending chills down your spine and rendering you absolutely speechless.

Without sparing you so much as a second glance, he finally pays for his own shit and leaves the store in a smug stride.

You could basically read the “EZ” he wrote in slash all chat while destroying your fucking nexus.

What a horrible fucking night, you think to yourself, hurrying to go home as well.

Your only comforting thought being that you wouldn’t have to see his stupid fucking pasty face ever again.

[youredreamingofroo]

a bit of a message talking about inactivity and my possible hiatus. I dont know if this counts as a cw but i talk about depression here and there at the beginning (nothing graphic) and as usual, its a rant

im gonna be straight honest rn, i'm probably not gonna be active on tumblr for these next few days, ive been super up and down depressed and im just unmotivated and too tired to do anything, im still gonna check in here and there but dont expect me to reblog or reply to many posts, if at all. This could mark the beginning of a hiatus, but with mood swings and up and down depression, i could be back, active as ever tomorrow. Ever since ive uninstalled Sims 4, i did feel a weight lift off my shoulders, but simultaneously made me depressed due to the lack of... well... doing something, i dont... really know how to put it into words, its just something in my brain that i just cant explain, i guess a good way to put it is playing sims 4 gave me the motivation to stem off into other mediums, blender for example, gave me something to do, something to learn, and while i can still use blender, i just get progressively slower and slower at doing stuff in it because of my limited resources, some scenes i want to do require specific outfits and i dont have the facilities to make those outfits... i mean i probably do but i just dont feel motivated to do all that. I still play other games, ive been playing a lot of slime rancher 2 and have been trying to branch out to other games (indie games and bigger games), I want to post gameplay but if youve seen me rant about tumblr before, one of my biggest gripes is just how fucking annoying it is to upload images, so i just get completely unmotivated to post images/gameplay especially if its just some silly post. if uh if anyone is still reading this, ill be honest, i havent even been motivated to write about WAS at all, probably havent touched the planning doc in about 2 weeks. This... 'spiral'... has been noticeable for me for the last week as my sleep schedule gets swapped around from sleeping at night and awake during the day... to sleeping during the day and awake at night, this is all my fault, but its also just something that happens rotationally for me, i go from sleeping VERY early in the evening (6PM at the earliest) and waking at VERY early times in the morning (4AM at the latest) to sleeping VERY late in the morning (6AM at the earliest) and waking up late in the evening (3PM at the latest), i dont really know what causes the shift, but it happens, and i often blame myself for it even though i dont know what causes it...

anyways sorry, this will probably mark a very iffy hiatus, like i said ill be active but not... super active, i didnt check tumblr at all yesterday/monday, so thats kind of the pattern to expect from me depending on the day. In the meantime... i might try to get back into older sims games, ive mentioned this before, but i do have sims 1 on my laptop so maybe ill post stupid little gameplay posts from there (granted i havent played in like... a month 😐). I'll probably put up a poll after this post for people to vote on which sims game i should play- i KNOW i did it once before but im probably gonna do it again cuz i cant find the post and i have over 1000 posts 😭

if you read thus far, thank you for sticking around, if your a random person who read this for no reason... thanks? if your a follower of mine and cant understand where im coming from with this lengthy post, see yourself out or deal with it 🙃 otherwise, thank you all and i will be lurking about

[prestonmonterey]

TLT UPDATE!! BEFORE I GO TO BED

(gods im so tired...)

@vincentaureliuslin @tatsumisheep3

no photos today so heres my cat :P

OPENING NIGHT!!! it went super well!!!!! (i think)

it was PA night so the understudys were percy and annabeth and they killed it!!!!!! :DDDD

also my director gave me a compliment today so im in a good mood (it was somethin along the lines of "you finally did a good job as cerberus" but ill take what i can get...) (i still have beef with him but.. whatever....)

its crazy how fast this show is going and that itll all be over after sunday,, but also i am SO tired bc we literally spend more time at school than at home this week :(

also getting a lotta acne bc im not used to wearing this much make up every day :P

but hey at least ill get to rest a teeny bit on the weekend (just in the morning TwT bc we have matinees)

also my parents and some of my friends are comin tomorrow so they BETTER FUCKIN BUY ME CANDY (i really really really want candygrams... one of the stage managers got like 4 boxes of candy i am so jealous...)

also also also we did the legacy robe last night before preview night and my friend (and mother /ij) got it :DDDD very happy for her

um um um i felt like i had more to say but idk this is already a lot and i cant remember things im kinda tired :P

oh i finally got my camper necklace!!! the beads were missing for like a week but they were just on the table in the costuming room... anyway my friend made it for me during tech class bc shes so so sooo sweet <3 (while i was in math trying to force my friend to study... *stares at neeks* /aff) i got four beads that kinda almost make the ace flag!! (black for tech, silver for the fall play, light blue for this show, and purple for my grade)

idk if i explained it before but all of our necklaces represent how much theater we've done,,, bc its kinda like how long we've been at camp. theres a bead for each grade based on our class colors, and the tlt bead, so everyone gets at least 2. theres also beads for each of the past musicals and plays at school, and a black bead if youve done tech, and a white bead if youve done leadership :D some of the seniors have like most of their necklace filled because of how many shows theyve done

heres another cat pic to keep you engaged and reading this /hj

also also also many many thanks to my wonderful actor and tech friends i would not survive without them (especially thanks to tech bc they have to put up with us actors... /hj) its poseidon's actors first show i think and they have a LOT of quick changes so their section of the rack is,,, kind of a mess. also the lamp for the oracle scene has broken multiple times i think already... and i already left my make up bag out yesterday and my watch in the cubbies today TwT we are a hot mess

my graphic design teacher was acting today :D (the farmer in drive is a teacher role, and they switch out every night) and i love him being so absolutely perplexed by the energy circle before show :333

also i remembered to put setting powder on for the first time,,, and... i forgot that my mom is SO much paler than me TwT (i was very washed out...) so ill probably stick to spray for the rest of the week :P

sorry i really am rambling tonight...

ok i will probably hopefully do at least one more update after strike on sunday!! (depending on how tired i am,, i might just curl up on the floor and sleep after the sunday show actually...) unless something goes horribly wrong,,, then ill probably post about it too

good night!! i need to collapse in bed and try to save up enough energy for tomorrows show :3

have a wonderful day/night and remember to hydrate! (or you'll die straight...)

[peachymilkandcream]

So You Think You've Won?|Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I'm not gonna lie I took some creative liberties, with this one, I've been in the mood for some shitting on Petra (especially since I can't do that anymore when she's dead) So I think I decided on the catalyst for this bit of Levi rage. I'll do a part two tomorrow! Hope you enjoy and thank you for the request!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

Despite Erwin's best efforts to hide it, those close to Levi knew of his problem. How when things went ill at home or on a mission he'd drown his anger into the bottom of a bottle. It was an addiction, but trying to break him of it sent the Captain into fits of rage, so it was best to let him have his way like a child.

Petra noticed it started early this morning, he had come into work hungover already and instead of dealing with it drank more to numb his pounding headache. There hadn't been any missions that had gone badly recently so it had to be an issue at home.

The thought sparking her next idea.

==============================================

"Good morning Levi, tea as usual." She was bright and cheery as ever, her hair somewhat curled this morning since clearly he liked that.

"Not now Petra." His fingers were massaging his temples.

"But Levi we always meet in the morning to discuss the agenda for the day."

"Fine." He sits up, raising a brow. "What did you do to your hair?"

She blushes. "Just trying something a bit different."

He seems to contemplate for a moment before shrugging. "It looks better that way. Keep it."

Her face beamed with happiness, a compliment, and he was dictating her style. Maybe getting him tipsy every morning was a good idea.

"Now hurry up and go over the plans for today." He starts to pour himself another glass of some liquor she didn't know.

"Captain, are you alright? It's early to be drinking."

"Do I answer to you?"

"Well no, but as you subordinate and friend I worry for you."

"Tch." He brushes it off.

"Alright then, well first off-"

"What the fuck is wrong with women Petra?" His words were already a bit slurred.

It caught her off-guard. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. What the fuck is wrong with women Petra?"

"I don't think I understand-"

"Jus-fucking Evelyn, no matter what I do, bitch doesn't want me-"

Usually she had to beg for snippets of information with his married life, now he was freely giving out his problems. "I'm sorry to hear that, you want to talk about it?"

"Of course not-"

"Alright, so as I was saying-"

"She doesn't want my dick, my love, my security- I mean, what the fuck is up with that? I'm the best fucking thing that'll ever happen to her, I took her out from starving in the streets and gave her everything. You know how many women beg for my dick?"

She blushes slightly. "I can only imagine."

"She should want it, she should be so grateful I picked her. And she just, doesn't fucking care. Last night I tried to initiate a little romance, okay, and she threw a book at me. A book."

"Oh Levi that's awful-"

"And I was just trying to be romantic and all I get is her fighting and 'get off of me you sick fuck-' blah blah blah- fucking bitch-"

"You shouldn't have to go through that."

"I just don't know why-"

A thought pops into her head, a devious one. "I hate to tell you...but I think I might know-"

He perks up. "What is it."

"Well, I came over to drop by some paperwork for you to sign, and when I let myself in I heard her in your bedroom. It sounded like she was in pain but when I looked she was touching herself, and moaning to Commander Erwin-"

Fury glinted in his eyes, the idea of Evelyn thinking about another man she knew would piss him off, but to Erwin of all people would make it worse.

"Tell me everything."

================================================

Evelyn heard the door hit the opposite wall, clearly the force would leave a dent. Her first thought was to go for the pistol Levi left hidden when he wasn't home for fear that someone was breaking in.

Whether it was a blessing that she didn't shoot or not she didn't know, when Levi burst through the door steamed and pissed.

"You slut."

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod From Asgard - Steve Rogers x Reader (Part 72)

A/N: I’m just gonna apologise ahead of this whole section of the story, I tried to delay it as much as possible but we’re here now...

Summary: A simple mission and check in turns into something much worse when Steve recieves a call from Bruce

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst! Language! Canon Typical Violence! Infinity War Plot!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

Chapter 72: We Don’t Trade Lives

You were just feeding JJ lunch when you heard a pounding on the door. You frown watching as Steve got up from the table walking over to the apartment door. He had barely opened the door when a very pissed-off Nat stormed into your apartment.

“Whoa, what’s wrong Nat?” Steve asks as she comes to a stop.

“Wanda missed her check-in again, a whole week late! and we’re supposed to be stopping an arms deal but now we’re a man short” Nat explains with an irritated huff.

“I’m sure she has a good reason, we’d know if she was in trouble,” you say trying to placate her.

“What about the mission? I don’t think me and Sam can handle it” Nat sighs shaking her head.

“Steve?” You ask looking over at him.

“Yeah I can help, and we can go check in on Wanda at the same time” Steve agrees nodding his head.

“Thanks, Steve I really appreciate it, it’s a simple mission really we should be home by tomorrow morning” Nat sighs appreciatively.

“give me a few minutes to get changed and we’ll head straight out” Steve nods heading off to change.

JJ then lets out an annoyed huff letting you know he wasn’t impressed by the delay in food.

“Sorry bean” you smile feeding him another mouthful.

“How is he? Steve said he was a little ill last week?” Nat asks walking over.

“he’s good now it was just the sniffles, only lasted a day” you sigh looking over at JJ, feeding him another mouthful.

“That’s good, straight back to playing” Nat smiles as Steve steps out of the bedroom now in his suit.

“I’ll go let Sam know and meet you by the jet,” Nat says as she heads out.

Steve nods as he adjusts his sleeves, as he glances over at you he catches you looking at him with a concerned look on your face. He furrows his brows as he walks over putting a hand on your shoulder.

“hey is everything okay?” he asks gently making you sigh.

“yeah just got a funny feeling that’s all, but I’m sure it's nothing to worry about,” you say waving it off.

“as long as you’re sure, I’ll be back soon,” Steve says bending down to kiss you.

“Yeah I’m sure, just stay safe out there, don’t do anything stupid,” you tell him taking his hand.

“of course, I have Sam and Nat to keep me in check” Steve smirks making you chuckle weakly.

“I mean it Steve” you sigh shaking your head.

“I will I promise, when you wake up tomorrow I’ll be home back in one piece” Steve smiles reassuringly.

“see you later bean, be a good boy for mama,” Steve says bending down to kiss the top of his head.

“Mama” JJ nods in agreement making you smile.

“see you tomorrow” Steve smiles kissing you once more.

“see you tomorrow” you smile keeping hold of his hand until he stepped away and it slipped from your grip.

A couple of hours later on the jet Steve, Nat and Sam were planning the details of the mission, looking down at the schematic of the ship they were going to intercept.

“The ship is departing Calais at 9 pm local time and due to arrive in Dover just after 10 pm, our best bet is to intercept it while it's crossing the channel, preferably on the midpoint so if there are any issues the UK and France will be too busy arguing over who should deal with it to actually deal with it,” Nat says pointing at the map.

“we’ll have to strike quickly then” Steve comments crossing his arms over his chest as he rubs his beard.

“I can swoop in and take out the guards on the top deck” Sam suggests.

“me and Nat can then work our way through the rest inside before-“ Steve says getting interrupted by a phone ringing.

Frowning he turns around to where his pack was, walking over he found the phone that was ringing realising it was the one Tony could call. He takes a deep breath glancing over at Sam and Nat before picking up.

“Tony” Steve greets as the line connects.

“um hi Steve, it’s Bruce actually,” Bruce says making Steve frown in confusion.

“Banner?” Steve asks surprised, instantly grabbing the attention on Nat.

“yeah hi, um Tony told me you guys weren’t exactly speaking and I don’t know what happened but we need you,” Bruce tells him.

“what’s happened?” Steve asks as he puts the phone on speaker so Nat and Sam could hear too.

“There’s a lot going on, I don’t think I could explain everything over the phone, but Thanos is coming and he’s gonna be looking for Vision, specifically the stone, Tony said you might know where he is” Bruce explains, Steve sighs glancing over at Nat and Sam.

“yeah we do, or we think we do,” Sam tells him.

“good, I’m gonna head to the tower, I’ll see you guys maybe,” Bruce says.

“The Avengers are based at the compound upstate now, get Tony or Happy to give you directions” Steve explains.

“oh right okay, sure thanks Steve,” Bruce says as he hangs up.

Steve sighs picking up the phone and flipping it over in his hand as he thought. His mind instantly went to you and JJ at home. The feeling you had was right, he just hoped this wasn’t as bad as he feared. The fear in Bruce’s voice told him otherwise.

“Change the coordinates, we need to go straight to Edinburgh,” Steve says looking over at Sam.

“On it,” Sam says moving over to the pilot seat.

“you okay?” Nat says gently grabbing Steve’s attention.

“hm? yeah, what about you? with Bruce reappearing and everything?” Steve asks looking over at her.

“Time is a great healer” Nat sighs quietly glancing over at Sam quickly.

“We should be there within the hour” Sam calls out from the pilot seat.

“Great, hopefully, we’ll get there quick enough to avoid a fight but prepare just in case,” Steve says moving towards his pack to prepare.

As he does so he pulls out the photo he always kept in his pack. It was a picture of you and JJ from just a couple of days after he was born. Even though you were exhausted your eyes still shined and your smile was just as bright as you looked into the camera. Steve could hear your laughter as clear as day as you told him to stop. He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled that day, he folded up the photo sliding it into his pocket to keep you and JJ close to him.

An hour later the jet was flying over Edinburgh trying to locate somewhere to land so the team could start looking for Wanda and Vision. Nat was just suggesting somewhere when the sight of Visions beam shot through the sky.

“Found them” Sam mutters.

“Looks like company beat us here” Nat sighs glancing over at Steve.

“they’re heading towards the station, get as close as you can, drop me off and then join in once you’ve landed,” Steve says walking towards the back of the jet.

“don’t do anything stupid Steve” Nat calls out as Steve opens the jet doors.

“sure” Steve calls back before jumping out of the jet.

He lands on the roof of the station, spotting Wanda and Vision inside, Wanda about to face off against two aliens. Steve slides open one of the windows before dropping down to the station platform below. As he lands a train speeds past, blaring its horn.

Once the train was gone Steve got his first good look at the two aliens, one female, one male. The female growls when she spots him, throwing her trident-like spear at him. Steve easily sides steps grabbing the spear. She looks back at him surprised, both aliens distracted enough for Sam and Nat to attack. Sam flew in to tackle the female into a nearby shop before shooting missiles at the male one. Steve spots Nat running over, throwing her the spear which she uses to trip and stab the male in the gut.

Steve runs over when he sees the female getting to her feet, recalling her spear out of Nat’s hand. Steve rolls picking up the male’s staff and using it to block the female’s attack. He pushes her spear upwards before hitting her in the side with the staff. The female twists moving to attack Nat but she dodges them easily.

Steve and Nat attack the female from both sides leaving her no room to attack back. Sam then flies in kicking the female to the floor next to her fallen counterpart. She checks over the male as the three of them block their exits.

“Get up” the female growls.

“I can’t” the male groans clutching his gut.

“We don’t wanna kill you, but we will,” Nat tells them as the female looks up at them.

“you’ll never get the chance again” the female scoffs, she hits a button her wrist suddenly being beamed up to the sky.

Steve looks up watching them go when the staff he’d used was ripped out of his hand following after the aliens. Steve frowns looking up at the sky, not impressed his new weapon was taken from him. He sighs turning to see Wanda crouching beside an injured Vision at the side of the station.

“Can you stand?” Sam asks as they walk over, bending down to help Vision up.

“thank you captain” Vision breathes, the tech within him visibly failing.

“let’s get you on the jet,” Steve says with a small nod.

Once on the jet, they set Vision down in one of the seats, Sam moving to the pilot seat firing up the jet as Nat closes the door.

“Now I thought we had a deal, stay close, check in don’t take any chances” Nat states turning around to face Wanda.

“I’m sorry, we just wanted some more time” Wanda apologises quietly as Nat storms past Steve to sit down.

“where to cap?” Sam asks.

Steve sighs deeply before glancing around the jet the remnants of Stark and Avengers Tech all around “Home”

Steve stood at the front of the jet watching as the Avengers compound came into view. There were a couple more buildings than there was last time, at the same time it also seemed quieter, almost like a ghost town. He guessed in a way it was, there were no Avengers walking the halls anymore. He felt a strange sense of relief at being home, the familiarity calming his nerves. He just wished you were beside him to experience it too. Hopefully, after all this, you’d be able to though, you could raise JJ the way you always wanted to.

Walking through the compound they found Rhodey in one of the labs talking to a hologram of Secretary Ross. As soon as Steve lay eyes on the man he felt his blood boil, it was Ross’ fault you were in the raft, his fault you got tortured. While the guard was now rotting in a Wakandan prison, that didn’t mean Steve would pass up the opportunity to punch Ross square in the face. He had to keep his cool though, he had more pressing matters to deal with. Plus, Ross was just a hologram, Steve couldn’t actually punch him, not yet anyway.

“Mr Secretary” Steve greet coldly.

“You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that,” Ross says as he walks closer.

“You could use some of that right now” Nat points out.

“The world’s on fire, and you think all is forgiven?” Ross asks looking over at Steve.

“I’m not looking for forgiveness, I don’t think I could give it either” Steve states glaring at Ross, noticing the hesitation.

“But I’m way past asking permission, earth just lost her best defender so we’re here to fight” Steve continues taking a step closer.

“And if you wanna stand in our way… we’ll fight you too” Steve warns, smirking slightly when he saw Ross gulp nervously.

Ross takes a large step back turning around to face Rhodey “Arrest them” he orders.

“All over it” Rhodey sighs turning off the hologram “that’s a court-martial, it’s great to see you cap” he smiles holding out his hand.

“You too Rhodey” Steve smiles stepping forward to shake his hand.

“hey,” Rhodey smiles hugging Nat “wow you guys look really look like crap, must have been a rough couple of years” he comments as he looks around at everyone.

“yeah, well the hotels weren’t exactly five-star” Sam smirks.

“I uh think you guys look great,” Bruce says grabbing everyone’s attention as he walks in “uh, yeah I’m back”

“Hi Bruce,” Nat says with a small smile.

“Nat” Bruce greets nervously.

“This is awkward” Sam mutters under his breath.

“I think it’s time to hear the whole story,” Steve says looking over at Bruce who nods his head sadly.

“sure” Bruce sighs as they walk into the common room off to the side.

“Okay, so Thanos is the big bad, he’s been the one pulling all the strings, he sent Loki to earth after the tesseract, I was with Thor and Loki escaping Asgard when he attacked our ship” Bruce begins making Steve furrow his brows in confusion, he thought Loki was dead, and why would they be fleeing Asgard?

“His plan is to collect the infinity stones, he already has the space and power stone, he sent some of his children to New York to collect the time stone” Bruce continues beginning to pace back and forth.

“He sent a couple to get the mind stone too,” Sam says as Rhodey pulls up a hologram of the aliens attacking vision.

“yes, but they didn’t succeed, so right now we know for certain that his missing at least one” Bruce nods.

“what’s his plan once he gets them all?” Steve asks resting his hands on his belt.

“wipe out half the universe, to bring order and balance to the universe” Bruce sighs, silence falls in the room as everyone lets the information sink in.

“So we gotta assume they’re coming back right?” Rhodey asks as he looks at the hologram.

“And they can clearly find us” Wanda points out running her fingers over her lips anxiously.

“We need all hands on deck, where’s Clint? And Y/N?” Bruce asks glancing around.

“Y/N’s back at base looking after a- um recruit,” Nat says glancing over at Steve “and after the whole accords situation, he and Scott took a deal, it was too tough on their families, they’re on house arrest”

“who’s Scott?” Bruce asks confused.

“Ant-man” Steve answers.

“There’s an Ant-man and a Spider-man?” Bruce asks surprised, Steve just shrugs his shoulders unable to provide a good answer.

“Okay look, Thanos has the biggest army in the universe, and he is not gonna stop until he gets… Vision’s stone” Bruce says glancing awkwardly over at Vision.

“then we have to protect it,” Nat says before Vision interrupts.

“no we have to destroy it” he sighs.

“I’ve been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature, but also its composition” he continues turning to Wanda “if exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source something similar to its own signature perhaps, its molecular integrity could fail”

“yeah and you with it,” Wanda says her voice shaking slightly “we’re not having this conversation”

“Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can’t get it,” Vision tells her.

“that’s too high a price,” Wanda says shaking her head.

“Only you have the power to pay it,” Vision tells her, cupping her cheeks soothingly.

Steve watches as Wanda turns and walks away from Vision. He drops his head sadly trying to work out a different solution but he was drawing a blank. He could understand Wanda’s hesitancy, if it was you asking him to do the same he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He’d rather fight a thousand aliens than risk losing you.

“Thanos threatens half the universe, one life shouldn’t stand in the way of defeating him” Vision presses.

“but it should” Steve sighs interrupting “we don’t trade lives Vision”

“Captain, 70 years ago you laid down your life to save how many millions of people. Tell me, why is this any different?” Vision says walking over to him.

“Because you might have a choice” Bruce interrupts “your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays, JARVIS, Vision, Tony, me, the stone, all of them mixed together all of them learning from one another”

“you’re saying Vision isn’t just the stone?” Wanda asks.

“I’m saying that if we take out the stone, there’s still a whole lot of Vision left, perhaps the best parts” Bruce explains.

“Can we do that?” Nat questions, her brows furrowed.

“Not me, not here” Bruce sighs shaking his head.

“Well, you better find someone and somewhere fast, Ross isn’t just gonna let you have your old rooms back” Rhodey points out.

Steve sighs pulling out the photo he kept of you and JJ back in Wakanda, the one place Steve knew might have a chance of removing the stone. It came with risks though, it would bring the fight closer to you and JJ which is the last thing Steve wanted. But if he didn’t get the stone out and destroyed it wouldn’t matter where you and JJ were.

“I know somewhere” Steve sighs glancing around and looking over at Nat who nods her head.

“Great where?” Bruce sighs in relief.

“Wakanda” Steve answers.

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a tag list so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications for updates!

[substituted-shinigami]

Learning to Breathe

(aka Please Remember To Put On Your Oxygen Mask Before Assisting Others)

Characters: Rukia, Renji, Byakuya, and some Fourth Division OCs, (RenRuki)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, some Angst, some Humor, Family

Rated: T (for mentions of medical tools such as needles and depictions of anxiety, but nothing is graphic or even really overly described. This story is more about the emotions than the medical drama)

Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana (Bloodlines AU), Post TYBW, Post renruki engagement)

Click the link to read below or click here to read the story from the beginning on AO3!

(1/7)

Prologue: Boarding Call

(AO3 chapter link)

Chapter Summary: Good morning passengers. We are now boarding flight 50S to Anxiety Seireitei City. Please remember to store all of your baggage in the carry-on compartment above your head, so that it will not be revealed until the end of the trip. Thank you, and have a pleasant flight! (A prologue in which Rukia and Renji get a diagnosis.)

 

It had been such a peaceful morning…

"Pleasantly surprised to see you this morning, Sister,” Byakuya had said rather fondly to her as she entered the dining room that morning, “But do you not usually leave for the Thirteenth by this time?”

"Normally, yes," Rukia had agreed as she sat down at the table, "But I'm actually only working a half day today. I have my yearly physical at the Fourth this morning, so I’m going into the office late. I'm trying to get it done and out of the way before the wedding."

"A wise decision," Byakuya nodded.

"Speaking of which, after my appointment, I'm stealing your lieutenant for lunch," Rukia continued between bites of kyuri no tsukemono. She was having trouble not shoveling the whole thing into her mouth. The fresh but sour taste of the pickled ginger and cucumbers, the mild kick from the sprinkling of chili, these were the kinds of flavors that she loved in the morning. Their palate, a perfect pairing of coolness and heat, served to invigorated and inspired her! Plus they were tasty too, "The bar we have chosen for the wedding reception has some dishes they would like us to taste for the event. Afterwards I'll go back to work in the afternoon, followed by going to the seamstress in the evening to get the measurements for my dress."

“Indeed? You are quite busy as of late,” Byakuya replied as he sipped his tea, “Well, if you’re done with your appointment early, do come by the office anyway. I would say so that we can chat, but considering how Abarai gets when he waits for you, I doubt I'll get a word in."

"Oh? What do you mean?" Rukia asked, a little surprised. Byakuya put down his tea cup, and gave his sister a withering look.

"Sister, he is unbearable whenever he waits for you. Between the foot tapping, and the sighing, and the constant checking of that infernal communication device all you young shinigami carry around…” Rukia rolled her eyes at him.

“...A soul pager, Niisama?”

“Yes, that. Anyway, it’s a wonder he gets any paperwork done at all! If I thought marrying you two would get him to stop, I would move up the wedding to tomorrow, but I’m sure that it will just make him worse.” Rukia chuckled fondly in response.

“Well, I will be sure to speak to him about it.”

“Please do,” Byakuya said, as he picked up his chopsticks, “But enough about my insufferable vice captain and your incurable fiance, tell me about-” They continued to talk amiably for the rest of the morning.

A simple routine check-up. That’s what it should have been…

The tech taking her spiritual pressure made a face at the monitor.

“What is it?” Rukia asked in a mildly amused tone, “I know I’ve always been a bit weird, but I didn’t think that my spiritual pressure was that strange!” The tech didn’t laugh, however.

“Not sure, something seems off…” he murmured more to himself than to her as he stared intently at the monitor, “Hold on, I’m gonna grab the nurse.” He grabbed the nurse, who also looked at the monitor, and then immediately left to grab the Relief Team Leader.

“Hanataro,” Rukia addressed the Fourth Division’s Third Seat as he peered at the monitor with a voice she hoped didn’t betray her growing trepidation, "What is going on? You know I don’t want to rush you, but as I told you earlier, my schedule is pretty packed today,” she gave him a mischievous look, “If you let me leave early, I promise to bring you back some cake from the tasting I’m going to!”

“Ah… Sorry, Rukia… But cake or no, there is something about your reiatsu that seems…off. We are going to need to run some tests to be sure. Probably even draw some labs…" but as he said it, Rukia's eyes went wide and her body went cold and stiff.

"I…I see…" she barely got out, as her hands involuntarily balled into fists.

Hanataro looked up and smiled at her kindly, "Don't worry, Rukia, I'll handle it."

"Thank you…" Rukia replied, relaxing just the tiniest bit. Unfortunately, the situation did not improve.

“We’re not positive of anything yet, Rukia, but your reiatsu doesn’t seem to be flowing or filtering normally, so we feel it’s best to monitor the situation," Fourth Division Captain Isane had said when they admitted her.

Rukia had already texted Renji to let him know she would be late for lunch. She thought it best that she text him again. He was there in minutes, sprinting into the room.

"Rukia!!!"

She had been laying in the bed, propped up by some pillows, when he had arrived. When she saw him, she sat up straight and gave him a little smile and a wave.

"Hey, Renji! What’s up?"

"That’s my line!!!!" Renji put his hands on her shoulders, "What happened? Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?!"

Rukia reached up her hands to gently hold on to Renji’s wrists, "I'm fine, Renji. Don't worry, it's just a precaution," she dismissed casually, before smirking up at him teasingly, "Although my shoulders kind of hurt now."

"Dang it, Rukia! This isn't a joke!" Renji exploded as he let go of her shoulders. But he immediately deflated and slumped down in the chair next to her bed, "I was so worried, I…" Rukia took a hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I know. I’m sorry, Renji. I didn't mean to scare you."

Renji bent his head down so that it touched hers, "Don't apologize, idiot. Just feel better soon, ‘kay?"

"Okay,” Rukia replied, tilting her head up so that their noses touched.

"I love you…” he whispered to her as he squeezed her hand, “...so much…"

"I know… I love you too," she whispered back.

They continued to stay, just like this, sitting close, whispering soothing words to each other, when they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a large thump by the door. Rukia peered around her tall fiance to see Byakuya clumsily trying to fix the vase of flowers that had been set on the end table by the entrance. He looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh, Nii-sama! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," she said. She gave him a kind smile, before bowing, "Thank you for visiting me!"

Byakuya turned away from the offending plant towards his sister, but didn't manage to step any closer into the room. Instead he stuck his hands in his sleeves and asked, "How…are you feeling, Rukia?"

"I'm alright," she began. Renji gave her a pointed look, "Honest! I don't feel any different. If they hadn’t protested so much, I wouldn't have let them keep me at all!" Byakuya regarded her silently, almost sadly, before tearing his eyes away from her.

"I'm…glad you chose to listen to them," he told her quietly.

“Yeah!” Renji agreed, turning back towards her, “No breaking out of here, you hear?” He squeezed her hand again, “I know hospitals suck, but I’ll be here whenever I physically can. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” Rukia agreed, “And thank you, both of you, but like they said, this is just a precaution. I’m sure they’ll let me out by the end of the day!"

The Fourth did not release Rukia by the end of that day, or for the rest of that week, but eventually, the diagnosis did come in. CRVS, also known as Chronic Reiatsu Vent Stenosis, a rare reiatsu vent disease that tended to run in families, and the same disease…the same disease that killed her sister, Hisana.

And just like that, everything changed…

[projectbluearcadia]

Everything's Fine, But That's Somehow Wrong

Lucifer: What? 

Solomon: Are you a succubus queen too? 

Lucifer: What? 

Satan: More like a drama queen. 

Solomon: Well, that's the only thing that explains it... You're the only one that activated magic. 

Annelie: Wouldn't the politically correct term be "incubus king?" 

Solomon pauses.

Solomon: Oh, you're right. That's a huge issue right now, isn't it? 

Annelie: Last time I talked to an incubus, yes. Pretty nice guy too once we got past that. 

Lucifer: When was this? 

Ah... I have a feeling I’m going to pay for that. 

Annelie: ...a while ago, don't worry about it. But anyway, doesn't this mean they're... Slaves to Lucifer now? 

Satan: HAAH!?

Solomon: Well, one way to find out. Lucifer, why don't you give them an order?

Lucifer: Around. 

Lucifer makes a gesture with his finger. 

Beel: ...isn't that the same command he uses when he's giving Cerberus treats? 

Levi: Couldn't you have given a cooler command?

Satan: I'm going to kill him. I'm going to fucking kill him.

Asmo: Satan, calm down, he doesn’t mean it! 

Mammon: For the last time, I ain't your dog!

Lucifer: Seems like your theory is wrong, Solomon. 

Solomon presses his knuckle to his chin. 

Solomon: Well, for the time being let's talk about this somewhere more comfortable. 

Annelie, Lucifer and Solomon head out first, and each of the boys gets out of the bath, drying themselves off. 

Mammon: Hey, Lord Diavolo... you have what we have, don’tcha? So... why were ya the only calm one when Annie came in? The second I smelled her, I was losing it. 

Diavolo pauses in the middle of drying his neck and turns his eyes towards the doorway. 

Diavolo: I wasn’t calm.

Levi: But it’s not like you lost control and... 

Levi’s face plumes beet red. 

Levi: How am I supposed to even talk to her now?! I’m such cringe!

Satan: I would have gone much more graphic than you if it had gone any further. Don’t worry about it. 

Satan pats Levi’s shoulder. 

Beel: You really weren’t calm, Lord Diavolo?

Diavolo: No, and I imagine that was the real reason Lucifer snapped. 

The brothers shift nervously. 

Diavolo: Still it seems as if we’re cured, so let’s not linger on that. Anne is an alarmingly forgiving person, so I don’t imagine she’ll hold it against you. 

They look at each other before they eventually change into dry clothing. 

[ meanwhile, in the common room ]

Solomon: Now then... this is incredibly fascinating. 

Annelie: What, me on Lucifer’s lap? Trust me, I’m here a lot. 

Lucifer squeezes her closer. 

Solomon: Not that; Asmo loves talking my ear off about you two. Although it is fascinating that he’s still clearly very wound up. 

Lucifer: I’m not wound up. 

Annelie: Lucifer, I said I’m usually in your lap, but you usually don’t do that in front of people. You’re being really jealous. 

Lucifer: You like it when I’m a little jealous. 

Lucifer glares at Solomon. 

Annelie: Well, maybe a little, but Sol is a friend? Sort of?

Solomon: Sort of? Hurtful. 

Annelie: Hey, I’m trying to keep Lucifer off your back. 

Lucifer: Why do you call him by a nickname and not me?

Annelie: Um... because you hate nicknames? Remember the last time I called you Luci?

Admittedly... I never did try “Luce”... maybe I could sprinkle that one in with his coffee tomorrow. 

Solomon: Interesting... 

Annelie: Sol, I swear to g—

Annelie bites her tongue as Lucifer’s grip tightens on her waist. 

Annelie: —oodness gracious if you’re trying to piss him off, I’m going to hurt you. 

Solomon: Ahaha I wouldn’t do that. No, seriously, I think he’d actually kill me. 

Solomon presses his palms together. 

Solomon: But back to the topic at hand, it’s fascinating that Lucifer forced the illness into dormancy. I know that it’s not Lucifer’s blood either, since I took some while he was lashing out at his brothers, and I looked at it on the way here. 

Annelie: Um... consent?

Lucifer: ...

Solomon: Don’t get so angry. It was just a little needle prick. But for Lucifer to essentially cure them without them being subject to his will... it would be a miracle solution. 

Annelie: But Lucifer’s clearly still out of it. 

Lucifer: I’m acting perfectly normally. 

Solomon: Actually... what happens if you give him an order, Anne? 

Annelie: Uh... Lucifer, would you... no, pose for a... an embarrassing picture by yourself, like one that Mammon would love to get his hands on. Right now.

Have to make up for that one he made me get rid of... god, I miss having that as my wallpaper.

Lucifer makes an annoyed sound and takes Annelie off his lap before he stands in front of her and makes two victory signs and points them at his face as he struggles to smile. 

Solomon: Tell him to turn towards m—

Annelie’s shutter clicks as her shoulders shake. 

Annelie: Sorry, this sight’s just for me.

Another shutter clicks from the side. 

Satan: Not anymore. Heh.

Annelie: ...

Lucifer: ...