#more in a my-heart-will-explode-and-I-will-die-actually way

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

That opening scene of Obi-Wan Kenobi is… really upsetting.

[miniwheat77]

Alibi. (141 x Reader HC’s.)

You guys see those edits floating around tik tok with that Alibi song? (you know what I’m talking about.) so here’s a fic inspired by it. !nsfw, violence, mental health issues, death, blood, mentions of suicide, NO MINORS!

Can you remember when the last time was you felt safe in the dark?

All of the ways reader is valuable to 141, more than just as a soldier.

When I’m out of breath, she’s my vitals.

His heart is thudding in his chest. He can’t seem to calm down. Blood rushes from the knife wound in his side and he’s stressed. He knows he shouldn't have taken it out. He knew better and still did it. He doesn't know what he was thinking. He’s taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. He’s alone, his radio is broken and he can’t call for help. He can’t walk because he can’t stop his racing heart.

Just when he thinks he’s going to die alone, you come running. “I got you.” You breathe. Skidding to a stop, lowering yourself onto your knees in front of him. He’s sitting up against a building. You shove his shirt up, grasping his hand and forcing him to hold it over his wound. “Look at me, you’re bleeding too much because you’re too stressed.” You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “You’re gonna be alright Gaz, look at me. Breathe with me okay?” You take in a deep breath, your imitation tactics will work on him. He stares back.

He takes in a deep breath, the feeling of your hands on him. Knowing that if he dies right now, he won’t die alone. It already calms him.

After a few deep breaths, he’s calming down. His heart has settled a bit more in his chest. You move his hand, seeing that he’s still bleeding but not nearly as bad. “Keep breathing like that Gaz, I’m gonna patch you up the best I can.” He nods his head, keeping the steady intake of oxygen. Medivac was on their way.

You look up at him. Smiling. "It's not happening today. Not like this." He laughs. Wincing slightly. "How are y-you always there ah?" He laughs. You look at him confused. "Anytime anyone is hurt you always know and you always come running." He laughs.

"I just do. You're my brothers. I'll always come running. I got you.” You breathe. “Keep breathing for me. Medivac is coming. I’ll be by your side no matter what alright?”

When I need to rev, she’s my ride or die.

Your teeth are gritted as you watch the scene unfold in front of you. The new recruit doesn't know you're there and she's been a total bitch to him since she started, but would only do it when no one else was around. When he brought it up, she called him a liar. She didn't know you were here and neither did he. "You know you're the weakest link of this entire task force? I mean really? I don't even know why they keep you around." She snorts. You let her dig her own grave but you can see him and he's fuming. Getting more and more angry as she keeps going. You're worried he might actually explode. You need the perfect moment to show yourself.

"You know I could say you hit me and they would kick you off of this base so fast because no one would believe you."

That was your last straw. You start walking into the room, your footsteps can be heard. The moment she sees you, she's got that same look on her face. The crocodile tears start. "Y/N thank god. He was just threatening me." She cries. Making her way toward you. "Is that true?" You look at him. He says nothing. Expecting you to take her side. You've always been ride or die for everyone and he doesn't know what so suddenly changed when she came around. He is clearly pissed.

"Look. Maybe we can talk this out. In private. Let's go outside and talk." You mumble. He rolls his eyes but knows he has no choice. The both of them follow you outside and the moment the door is closed, you grasp her shoulder and spin her around. Before she has time to react you’re punching her in the gut as hard as you can. His eyes widen. "Jesus!" He mumbles. You clamp a hand over her mouth before she can yell out. Backing her into the wall. "Not a word or I'll put a bullet in your fucking head and than there will only be one side to this story." You growl. He's standing off to the side. Surprised at how quickly this had escalated. "Everyone on this task force. Even him. They are my brothers and if you fuck with them, you fuck with me." You have her pinned. Right in the blind spot where cameras don't see it, which now he realizes was your plan all along.

You take another swing at her, busting her nose. Blood rushes from it. "Go to your room and clean up and if you say a fucking word I'll have your head. Understand?" You seethe. She nods her head.

She rushes away from you.

"You knew?" He asks. You snort. "Of course I knew Johnny." You laugh. Shaking the pain from your fist. "I always know."

"Thank god." He sighs. "Not just my word against hers anymore." He sighs. "Nah, we'll talk to Price and get her out of here. Let's go get a drink, calm you down." You rest your hand on his lower back, seeing the weight has clearly been lifted off his shoulders.

When I’m out of faith, she’s my idol.

It's times like this he wishes he hadn't taken on the responsibility of being a Captain in the military. He has to be someone these people look up to. But he doesn't feel worthy. He feels like he means nothing, sometimes he feels he leads them in the wrong directions. Sometimes going as far as getting them injured or killed. He doesn't know how to combat these feelings.

Some days he wants to give up. Wants to call it quits and leave this all behind. But he knows he has people relying on him. Even if he thinks they'd be better off without him. He sighs. Taking a drink of the flask he had in his hand. He's got the gun in his waistband. He shouldn't be having these thoughts. For some reason, his mind keeps travelling to you. Your smiling face despite being in the worst situations known to man. How you always seem to be so happy and keeping a good attitude. He wishes he could be that positive all of the time. He wishes he could be like you in a lot of ways but doesn't understand it.

He hears footsteps and quickly tries to hide the flask until he sees it's Gaz. "Garrick." He nods. "Cap. Something going on?"

"Ah. Same old. Wish I could change things I can't." He snorts. "Feel you there. Y/N asked if I could come find you, says she needs to ask you something." He nods his head. He wonders what you could possibly want this late. He stands up. "That girl. Swear. No matter what she's always so happy." He laughs. "Yeah you got me. I don't know how she does it all of the time." Captain Price laughs. "Wish I could be like her in a lot of ways."

"That's funny. She says the same things about you." He laughs. "Really?" He asks. He nods. "Yeah. When you're not around she tells stories. Talks about how you're basically her hero. Tells everyone all kinds of cool stuff you've done. Swears up and down that you're the best superior she's ever worked for in the military. Says she doesn't know what she'd do if something happened to you." Captain Price laughs. Shocked at hearing that you've said such kind things about him. "Such a sweet girl." He shakes his head. "Thanks Gaz. I'll see you tomorrow morning." He nods. He's going to go find you.

Right after he returns this gun to his nightstand.

I just killed a man, she’s my alibi.

Ghost sits in his house. His hands shake violently. He fucked up. He fucked up bad this time. He doesn't know how he'll talk his way out of this one. The man had gotten slick with him at the bar after what he’d done. He shouldn't have went in the first place. He should've stayed home. He doesn't know who to call, but you're the closest person to him. He's got no other choice.

You come running at the tone in his voice. He's clearly scared about something. When you arrive, you walk right into his house. "Simon?" You ask. He looks up. "What's going on?" He asks.

You had an idea of what it was. You'd seen the news this morning.

"A man was found dead in the back alley of a bar this morning, footage showed a man wearing a skull mask."

"I.. I don't know what got into me. He..." he trails off. "He corned this girl back there and I didn't know what to do. I just hit him. I couldn't stop."

You press your hand to your lips. Silencing him. "Listen to me-" A knock at the door is what startles you. "Go answer it and don't say a word about where you were until I'm down there okay?" You force him to look at you. You grasp the mask on his face and pull it off of him. He nods. Listening. He makes his way to the front door.

You look around the room, you know what you're looking for. You look across his boots and other shoes that he might've been wearing but they're all clean. Everything is all clean until you spot the gloves in his bathroom. You quickly shove them in your pockets and make your way to him. He's let the officer in. "I really was just wondering where you were last night?" He's got a little note pad in his hand and a pencil in the other. "Is something wrong?" You ask. Stepping into the room. "Oh uh.. just routine questions. Nothing serious ma'am." He smiles. "Oh.. we just got back from a black ops mission a few hours ago, did something happen?" You ask. "Uh.. well we're just investigating a death at a bar last night. Folks say they saw a man wearing a skull mask and we heard from around that you sometimes wear them." He looks at Ghost.

"Oh.. uh. I usually only wear those when I'm on missions to hide my identity. Don't want people knowing who I am and retaliating against my family." Simon explains. The officer explains. "Do you guys have a superior I can follow this up with? Just to double check?" He asks. You nod your head. "Yeah of course. I have his phone number right here." You nod. Drawing your phone out of your pocket. You relay the number and Ghost only hopes Captain Price will cover for the both of you. "You mind if I take a peek around?" He asks. "No. Course not." You answer, seeing the fear rise in Simon's eyes.

The officer disappears for a few minutes before coming back. "It doesn't look like I'll have to follow up after all. Someone made report that he had attacked a female and the person acted in defense for her. However we would like them to come forward anyways. So if you happen to hear about any of this, please give me a call." He passes a card to you and you take it. "Thanks officer." You smile. When he leaves, you lock the door behind him. Tugging the gloves out of your pocket. How fast you had acted.

How fast you were willing to cover for a murderer? What other lengths would you go to. To defend the task force?

"You owe me, Riley."

[dumbseee]

noticed pt2.

f1 au/fic: having her celebrity crush as her boyfriend was something y/n didn’t expect to happen, which she also didn’t expect is the hate she would’ve receive.

lando norris x reader.

fc: bruna marquezine.

part 1.

note: i wasn’t planning on doing a part 2 but you guys asked so you shall receive :) (i wrote that very quickly so it’s not that good i’m so sorry)

liked by landonorris, francisca.cgomes, pierregasly and 230 997 others.

y/n: lil photo dump because i’m living my best life with my loved ones <3 have a nice week guys!

_

landonorris: pretty girl <3

liked by y/n.

francisca.cgomes: had the best time with you baby

yourfriend: you’re shining girl

fan1: who tf is y/n? why is she even so popular?

fan2. @.fan1 bc she’s fucking lando and people have an obsession with wags

fan3: ew such a whore

fan4: why is she always half naked?

fan5: i’d be so embarrassed if i were lando bc wtf is she wearing?

fan6: lando RUN

fan7: y’all see a pretty woman dating y’all favourite driver and decide to hate her for no reason

fan8: y/n get behind me

you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t know what you did to deserve that. you deactivated all your socials so you won’t receive any messages from people with bad intentions, and turned off your phone that kept buzzing with notifications from friends and family. you tried to call lando, to make sure he knew that this was bullshit and that never would you even think about cheating on him. you did go to neymar’s party but only as your friend’s plus one. you talked with the footballer but for literally five minutes. the girl in the picture wasn’t you and you prayed that lando knew that. but he wasn’t answering his phone and that actually made you panic even more. your whole body was shaking, you were having a panic attack and you didn’t know how to calm it since you never had one before.

this situation was horrible for you, you didn’t even know how to fix it, of course it was all a lie but would the internet believe you? deactivating all your socials could be seen as suspicious by fans. they hated you anyway so whatever excuse you’d come up with, they’d never believe you. would lando even believe you? that thought made you sob even more, you struggled to breath and fell on the ground, resting your head on your knees. you could hear your heart beats going way too fast and you prayed for someone to help you because you were going to die from that damn panic attack.

"y/n! hey y/n!" you heard a voice, but it was faint, as if someone was calling you from very far away. "y/n, please baby! breath!" lando. it was lando’s voice. you opened your eyes and saw your boyfriend, shaking you to make you come to your senses, his eyes were glossy and he looked worried, when he saw you open your eyes and look at him he sighed softly and smiled at you. "welcome back, baby." he kissed your forehead before putting your hand on his own heart while he did the same to yours. "breath for me. we’ll do it together, okay?" you nodded slowly and started to follow his breaths. "one. two. three. yeah, you’re doing amazing my love." he smiled again and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "you scared the shit out of me." he whispered, still against your forehead. "i am so sorry, lando, i swear it’s not-" he shushed you and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a long and soothing embrace. you felt silent tears roll down your cheeks.

"don’t say a word, i already know." he says, he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed your tears away. "those pretty eyes can’t be drowning in tears, love." he added. "i trust you y/n. i love and trust you with my life, i know that you’d never do such a thing." he finished by kissing your lips. "then why did you ignore my calls?" you asked. "because i needed to get back home asap to confort you." he smiled and you swore that your heart exploded.

that was the moment where you realised how deeply in love you were with lando. he was so perfect with you, always taking care of you and putting you first. you sometimes wondered if you deserved that kind of love.

"we’re going to watch your favorite tv show, order some food and take a bath later. today is y/n self care day. and don’t think about that rumour, i’m going to take care of that." he kissed the top of your head and helped you get up from the ground.

liked by y/n, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 1 790 007 others.

landonorris: i’m going to say this once and for all: y/n l/n is the sweetest most loving and respectful person i’ve ever met in my entire existence. she’s the light that keeps shining during my darkest days, she’s the presence i crave after a long day away from her. y/n has been the victim of disgusting rumours and death threats, i’ll be taking action against every single ones of you who even just commented one single bad emoji under her posts, i’ll come for you. you made her cry, i think it’s fair enough that i make you pay back for every single tear that she shed because of people like you.

_

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[wrr000]

Van Der Linde gang when you randomly kiss them - short headcanons

Featuring: Arthur, Javier, Charles (can do a part two and add whoever y'all want, just let me know)

Summary: pure fluff, kissing on the cheek (just to clarify)

Warnings: none, just really short and stupid

»»————-　♡　————-««

--Arthur

He's usually on high alert, but in camp he wants to chill and rest so it's easier to surprise him

When you sneak up on Arthur to kiss him on the cheek you nearly gave him a heart attack

Slightly blush appeared on his face

Poor baby is flustered and doesn't know what to do. Should he kiss you back or what?

"Uh- It's you- You sure suprised me baby"

Nervously rubbing back of his neck and avoiding eye contact before awkwardly kissing you back

It may not seem like it, but little cowboy was exploding from happiness on the inside

Arthur is just a pure mess, but a big sweetheart!

He sure loves you and appreciate everything you do (for him or to him)

If you want to do this again--better warn him or else he will die from fluster D:

--Javier

He did not expect that, I said what I said

Javier may be always vigilant, but this one time you actually managed to surprise him

He shivered slightly, but after a moment he realized it was you

"Oh~ What did I do to earn this, Mi amore? You already missed me?"

Immediately pulling you closer to him, wrapping his hands around your waist and kissing you back

But like, a thousad kisses all around your face

Now he doesn't want to let you go tightening his grip

What did you even expect from someone as romantic and passionate as him

Javier loves everything you do, but especially when you initiate sweet moments yourself

(and when you are trying get his attention, he knows that you're loyal)

Just keeping doing that more often! It makes him very happy and loved

--Charles

He knows that you're coming from behind so there was no way you could suprise him

Charles spent too much time on hunting and honestly? He found it very cute when you thought you were sneaky

For your peace of mind, he pretended to be surprised

"Oh, it's you my dear, what a nice suprise"

Bright smile crawled on his face

After a brief moment he placed a hand on your waist and returned a kiss

It felt good to know that you're thinking about him and came up with this idea

Such small gestures meant a lot to him

In return he would give you something small, but from the heart

Not like he needs to proof you that he loves you, it's nothing like that

Charles is a gentleman and he wants to surprise you as well. He may not have the way with words or action, but quality time or precious gifts? Yup yup!

Also--he's curious if you will able to sneak up on him next time

Won't admit it, but he wants you to do it more often!

[sanjisboyfie]

draken as your attentive boyfriend

requested, thank u for whoever requested this literally felt my heart explode writing this because dear god i love draken sososososoo much. like to be so fr hes my hashtag dream man ! NOT ALL SELFINDULGENT WHAHHTTT

-> draken x ftm reader, sfw & nsfw portions (cw at that part) -> fem alligned, minors, and blank blogs dni !! DNI !! if i see you interact, i will block you

sfw

— draken who lets you play with his hair, enjoys it a lot, actually. the soft black strands are at your mercy. whatever you wanna do to it, even if it's tying it in some pretty bow and making him walk around the shop with it like that, he loves it. when you guys are just chilling in your humble apartment, his head is in your lap and he's almost asleep with the way your fingers gently run over his scalp and through his hair.

"dude, seriously?" one of his customers said, looking at his black hair that had pink ribbons tying them at their ends since you had styled his hair in two simple plaited braids.

"what about 'em?" draken snarled, leaning against the counter and not-so subtly flexing his muscular arms. "my boyfriend did it for me, you got a problem with it?"

cue the customer very nervously shaking their head as your boyfriend continues glaring down at him as if he were nothing but an insect.

— he lets you borrow his clothes whenever you want. considering how large he is, they more often than not end up fitting you pretty oversized or just right. he smiles whenever you greet him in the morning and you're wearing one of his shirts or his sweatpants that are sagging loosely off of your waist (not to mention the bottoms of the pant legs are dragging on the floor). also doesn't care if you wanna borrow his boxers either. he's a clean guy. he washes his underwear, so obviously it's fine if you take some of his to wear.

you had quietly asked if you could use one of his boxers as shorts around the house. he noticed your meek demeanor when asking, as if you were expecting outright rejection.

and he quickly pulled you in by your waist, kissing the top of your head as he said he obviously didn't mind. he kisses your cheek when he hands them to you.

"we can always buy you some of your own too," he comments, then quickly adding in, "not that i mind you wearing mine! it's just, if you ever wanted your own couple pairs, baby, we can always go out and buy some," he assures you, sitting on the bed as you stand in between his legs.

his hands are lovingly caressing the backsides of your thighs, drawing random shapes as he speaks softly to you, "but, next time, don't even ask, alright? what's mine is yours," he waits for you to nod to show that you understand before smiling and pressing a kiss to your lips.

in general, he loves seeing you in his clothes and if he knows that the oversized clothing acts as a simple safe haven, he makes sure you know that he could care less if you steal a couple shirts or hoodies.

"just don't touch my socks, alright? can never keep track of them as it is, if both of us started wearing them, i'd be fucked."

— hovers close in public, always keeping an eye on you no matter where you are. old habits die hard, he guesses, since he's almost always in constant worry mode whenver you guys go out. it's been a long time since his deliquency days, but he's never not going to be paranoid. just let him rest his arm over your shoulder or rest his hand on your waist, it really puts his mind at ease.

the two of you were going grocery shopping to stock up your pantry and fridge. draken was pressing his chest to your back, nonchalant with the close proximity the two of you were in with each other. his hands were even pushing the cart in front of you, playfully scoffing when you told him you could do it.

"make my pretty boy do the work? don't think so," he chuckled when you told him you could do it, kissing the top of your head to get you to forget about it. because there was no way he was going to let you.

he reaches over your head for some things, dropping them into the cart without a second thought. if you motion for him to grab anything, he's got it in his hands in the blink of an eye. really attentive to what you want, in general.

also he likes to boost his own ego by doing this, teasing you that, "i'm just the best boyfriend, right? man, you're a lucky guy to lock me down, huh?" as he's nuzzling his nose into your neck, making you smack him away at how affectionate he was being.

another instance when draken is painfully aware of his surroundings is when you two are walking down the street. the location of your guys' apartment isn't the greatest, but it's also not the worst. he's just really aware of whatever is going on around you two, even if you're just walking around.

it was nighttime and the both of you were getting a craving for some junkfood. so a quick walk to the conveinent store, like two blocks down, was the only answer.

he had your hand tightly gripped in his, listening to you list out all the things that you wanted from the store and nodding every now and then.

"we can also get some dinner there, right? you want some instant ramen, baby?" he asks gently, looking down at you with a smirk, "dare you to get the extra spicy one and eat the whole thing without taking a sip of water!"

just as you're about to scold him for being so ridiculous, a random person jumps out of the alleyway you guys were just about to pass.

draken pulls you behind him faster than you could react and nails the guy right in the balls. the clattering of a metal hitting concrete is the next thing you hear after the guy's groans and you peak over draken's arm to see the state of the random man.

"shit, fuckass cops need to do a better job around here," draken sighs, acting as if that wasn't even a big deal. he still had your hands in his, so he wasn't that phased. as long as you stayed close, he would be as cool as cucumber. "are you alright, [name]?"

his soft eyes settled on you and was pleased to see you were physically fine.

"well, let's get that spicy ramen! you're treating though, since i just saved our lives!" he teases, kicking the guy's face as you both walk past and not looking back once.

once you get rung up at the counter though, he's tapping his card before you can react and kissing your cheek lovingly, "d'ya really think i'd let you pay? c'mon now," he teases, biting your cheek lightly before guiding the both of you to the window seats the conveience store had.

— the "d" in draken actually stands for domesticity !!! loves to wake up next to you, both of you having really messy hair. loves brushing his teeth next to you in the mirror, fuck - he loves when you guys are just in the bathroom at the same time. it's a really intimate thing that he's really, genuinely happy you're that comfortably with each other that you've reached that point together in the relationship. loves to feel you hug him from behind as he prepares you guys breakfast. loves to just laze away on the couch together on his days off. loves loves loves making your small apartment a cute home for the two of you.

draken leans against the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth as he tries to will himself to get excited for the day. you were in the shower, telling him it was one of the mornings you needed a shower to actually get energized. you two were just that tired.

and when you come out of the shower dripping wet, he spits out the toothpaste in his mouth and continues through his routine without wasting a beat. he turns to you as you're drying your naked body, easily maintaining eye contact as he asks, "what you want for breakfast? i'll make it,"

you think for a moment, roughly drying your hair with a towel as you do. and before you can respond, he's coming over with a scowl on his face, taking the towel from your hands.

"seriously? we talked about how bad that is for your hair, idiot," he scolds you, taking the opportunity to do it for you. there's really no need for him to do it, you would have heeded his warning and dried it more gently, but he felt a warmth bloom in his chest as he took care of you.

draken doesn't know it, but he really was made to be a husband. he's just that attentive and caring. (lock him down right now-)

! nsfw, draken x ftm reader

cw: use of the word hole and cunt.

— the thing with draken is that, a lot of people assume he's a hard dom and that's all he is !! not too far from the truth, tbh, but !!! still, he doesn't mind handing you the reins if you ever want to give it a go or if you're just feeling it. he doesn't mind anything. he's a big "go with the flow" type of guy. so if you feel like domming him, say less, just tell him where to stick his dick and he's for it.

— okay, no seriously, though, he's a big listener and believes so heavily in communication (as all good partners should-). tell him your limits / what you liked and what you don't like once and he'll remember it for the entirety of your relationship.

— throughout your relationship and developement of your sexlife, there is one thing about draken that never changes. and it's with how vocal he is. whether it be through the sounds he makes or the words he says to you or under his breath, this man will always be showing you with his voice how good you're making him feel. you get the best of both worlds, praise and degradation (<- depends on the night).

"fuck, my pretty boy, you're so tight," he moans as he grips your hips, slamming into you as his jaw is dropped at the sensation of you around him. he's ducking his head into your neck in a second, placing open mouthed kisses and leaving a couple hickies over your skin.

draken's groans are almost louder than the sounds your cunt is making. it's almost like he wants to drown it out, but really, it's all just him unable to quiet down. you just make him feel so good, how the hell do you expect him to be quiet? not when you're practically sucking him back in each time he shifts his hips backwards. not when your fucked out face is looking up at him.

you're perfect for him, he's convinced of it.

— really into body worship. kisses ever inch of your skin and if it were up to him, he'd make you cum ten times over just by playing with you. he doesn't even have to use his cock to get you there, he's sure of it. (he's got a big ego for a reason, though, trust. draken's got a big dick and knows how to use it).

"so fucking hot," he praises right into your ear as he's fingering your sopping wet hole with his fingers. he was laid up against the headboard of the bed, with you putting your entire weight onto his chest. his arms were draped over your torso, eyes trained on where his fingers were disappearing inside of you. "gonna ruin you, baby, gonna fucking ruin you,"

you moan as his palm rubs against your clit, squirming your hips away at the overwhelming sensation. he clicks his tongue, using his entire arm to wrap around you and hold your hips still.

"you drive me crazy," he curses, nipping at your neck and smirking at the mewl you let out, "get so fucking hard just thinking of you, baby. wish i could just fuck you for the rest of my life, don't need anything else when i got my handsome boy right here,"

spends a lot of time just running his tongue over ever inch of your body. every kiss he places on your body earns you a praise of how perfect you are for him. draken is the definition of a service top, he's there to please you and make you feel good.

it's his favorite thing in the world, making you feel good to the point of no return.

— most annoying part of draken's personality is that he's a fucking tease. if he feels like making you work for it, he will make you work for it. he's rarely ever mean, but when he is mean, he gives you a hardass time. but don't worry, he makes up for it by fucking you stupid <3

draken coos, holding your jaw so easily in his hands, "beg better than that, pup," his other hand is holding the base of his semi-hard cock. you're kneeling in front of him, lips in a perfect pout (the sight of them glistening with a mixture of his and yours saliva makes him hard real quick). he slaps the tip of his dick to your lips, smirking when you instinctively drop your jaw to let him hit your tongue.

"want me to fuck your throat? hm? use your words," he drawls, but doesn't show any sign of pulling his dick out of your mouth when you close your lips around him. the only response you give him is a moan that sends shivers down his spine. his hand buries itself into your hair, controlling the pace you bob your head at.

as the drool drops down to your knees from your chin, he shoves you off of his dick, almost wincing at the cold air that contrasts with the warmth that once surrounded him.

"still haven't heard you beg for it," he reminds you, making you roll your eyes with a newfound pissed off expression on your face. he notices that, quirking his eyebrow, "don't give me that look, brat,"

he tugs on your hair, making you crane your neck backwards to follow the movement, "is that what you are now? a brat? what happened to my good boy that did as he was told?" a cruel grin comes over his face, "or are you just acting out cause you wanna be fucked like one?"

in the blink of an eye, he's so easily picking you up off of your position on the floor and tossing you onto the bed, "always wanted to fuck you dumb. have you remembering nothing but my name," he pulls back from your chest, where he was previously placing wet kisses on, "you want that? want my cock buried inside you?"

and, of course, the answer is obvious.

-

if you want a more focused drabble of nsfw draken instead of just these headcanons lmk <3 and i'll get to it some time muah

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part XII

Word count: 2200+

Warnings: fighting, swearing, burns, SA, blood

Autumn themed divider by tsunami-of-tears

Part XI | Part XIII

Your heart stopped at the sound of voice that followed you day and night, especially at nights, and then raced up. Another kind of tears filled your eyes and your teeth started chattering with fear. You didn't want to admit that sometimes you heard the echo of his laughter in the hallways, nor that his face terrorised you in the dreams. Because if you admitted it to yourself, you wouldn't even be able to leave the bedroom. You forbade yourself to think about it, but the horrors you experienced didn't disappear so easily, they just moved into your subconscious, lurking around in your most vulnerable moments. You wished this was one of them. You didn't want to see it but you had to. You slowly looked up to place where the voice came from. This time it really wasn't just your imagination, it was real.

The red head, Volkan, stood there with a mocking, cruel smile on lips, blocking your only escape route and for a short moment you were back in a room carved in stone. You were completely paralysed. He looked just like back then, the resemblance to his brothers undeniable now that you could see him clearly in the daylight. New was only a scar stretching from the temple to the corner of his mouth on the left side of his face.

And he wasn't alone. Behind him, near the door, arrogantly stood the other male, Lord Nail with a long sword attached to his back. He was waiting for you to give him your full attention. As soon as he had it, with one-sided grin he ran his hand over the lock and part of the door frame. The metal sizzled and melted. There was no escape from here, only a long, unsurvivable fall down.

"You even can't imagine how glad I am to meet you again," Volkan draw your attention back to him. "Last time we were interrupted in the best, unfortunately, but that won't happen again. I'm not done with you yet." His eyes slid down to your chest and then to the hem of your skirt and he licked his lower lip. You felt bile raising in your throat, instantly dirty solely from the way he gazed at you. He moved, slowly heading to you, that disgusting smile widening.

You internally screamed at your body to move, pleaded with any forgotten god who was willing to listen to send you help. A sob of relief escaped you as you legs and arms finally moved and you crawled backward, away from him.

He bursted out laughing. "Stupid woman. You can't escape me. Look around! The only way leads head first down. I doubt you could survive that, but we will test it soon, anyway." He wasn't in hurry, playing with you like cat with frightened mouse. He was enjoying this kind of situation, the power he had over you, the terror he evoked in you.

"Hewn City really brings up dumb women good for only one thing," Nail chuckled slyly, stepping closer, his dark eyes gleamed with lust. You felt sick. "Pity that this one have to die. I like quiet ones. It's much more fun to make them scream. Maybe we could get more of such like her when you become High Lord. What do you think?

"That's actually pretty good idea, but this one is mine," Volkan snarled. "You watch the door! That circus trick of yours can stop her but not my brothers. I don't wish to be disturbed this time."

Nail huffed discontent, but did as he was told. He was so ready to enjoy even watching though. You could feel it in his gazed that roamed over your body.

Meanwhile you managed to get up to your shaky feet, keeping the distance.

"You have quite a stamina," he started circling you like a wolf, closing on you. "I like that. It's pity I can't keep you. I'd love to examine it in detail. The look on Eris's face would be priceless."

"St-stay away," you stuttered. Your heart was about to explode. You had never been so scared in your entire life. You were so stupid. If only you hadn't come up here. If only you stayed with Eris, this wouldn't happen.

And Eris.. Your dear husband. You would give anything to see him one more time. To have a chance to apologize for your behaviour. To hold his big, warm hand. To see his beautiful boyish smile. To hear his deep voice.

No! You didn't want to end up like this. You couldn't give up yet, you had to fight. You rushed to the battlements, readying to shout at the top of your lungs for help. Hopefully someone would hear you. However, your mouth filled with smoke and you were choking on it, unable to breathe.

"Tsk, tsk. Forget that! I won't let you shriek for help." Volkan used the moment and lunged for you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and throat from behind. He easily dragged you to battlements on the other side where nobody could see you, and pushed your upper body down on the cold stone. You were trashing and kicking, trying to break away from him. It was useless. He was too strong.

"Let's proceed," he hissed to your ear as he pushed your legs apart with his. His breath caressed your face and for a moment everything went dark.

"Don't worry. It'll look like a suicide. Can you imagine what will people say about him? Less than a year after the wedding and he already drove his wife to commit suicide. It'll be fun."

You felt sick to your stomach. You couldn't do that to Eris. You didn't want him to suffer any more. You pushed with all your strength against the stone.

"But before I kill you," his body was holding you down with ease while his hand started to pull your skirts up. "I want to hear you crying out my name, bitch."

Still choking on smoke, you couldn't scream, you couldn't do anything. Hot tears slid down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed and thought of only person who ever cared for you. Your Eris. You screamed his name in your mind as cold breeze touched your thighs.

In the same second the door melted into a puddle on the ground and your husband stepped from the shadows of staircase. You immediately felt his presence even though you didn't see him and sobbed in relief.

Nair cursed, but before he could do anything, a ball of fire hit him and lifted him off of his feet high into the air and above the battlement. With an ear-splitting roar, he fell from the tower.

Eris didn't even blink, his gaze trained on Volkan's hand on your thigh, just few inches from your butt. Liquid fire swirled in his amber eyes and he burst in flames.

"Hands off of my wife!" He snarled lowly, the sound so dangerous and raw coming from the depths of his chest that you shivered with fear and got goosebumps all over your body.

The smoke disappeared and you finally could breathe. You never thought that there would be a time when you would be so excited that you could take a lungful of air. There was only one thing that made you even happier than lungs full of fresh air.

He came.

Despite the fact that only a few minutes ago he was so upset with you, Eris came looking for you.

However Volkan wasn't ready to give up so easily. He grabbed you, pulling you up on your legs once again. Your back bumped into his broad chest while you had to balance on your tiptoes and something sharp and cold pressed against your throat. You gasped and froze, eyes widening in horror. It was a dagger, the first drops of warm blood already rolling down your skin.

Eris gritted his teeth and flames disappeared in a puff of smoke, his eyes jumping between you, the dagger and the redhead.

"That's it, brother," Volkan growled. "Don't try anything or I'll cut open that pretty neck of hers. And you know I'll do it."

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with this. It's only between you and me."

"Look at you! How low you have sunk. You not only brought this dirt to our Court, you are in love with her."

"Shut up!"

"How pathetic," Volkan laughed, changing the angle of dagger, so now it pointed under your chin. You tilted head back, trying to get as far from the sharp tip as possible. "Is she so good in bed or she used some dirty tricks to get here? Your coupling with this whore from Night Court has weakened you. I'm sure he got into your head with her help and uses you like a puppet."

"Do you even listen yourself?" Eris spattered. You'd never seen him so angry. His skin seemed to thin and you could see flames swirling under it. He was seemingly cool, calm, collected, calculating, nothing could break his focus. And his eyes.. Those amber orbs alone could kill. "No one can control me!"

"No? Really? To your knees," Volkan ordered.

When Eris didn't move, he pressed down on the dagger and more of the warm wetness ran down your neck and chest. You whimpered quietly. Eris's eyes shot to you. Your gazes locked and for a second you caught a glimpse of pain deep inside them. For some reason this was hurting him more than you.

Muscle ticked in his jaw and he reluctantly knelt down. Volkan started to laugh so badly that his head fell back. And that was a mistake.

That was your only chance. You didn't have time to think it over. You elbowed him in the left side as hard as you could. He didn't expect it. His grip on you loosened as he pulled arm that was holding you in place, to his sore ribs and you twisted to the side, dancing away from his reach.

Eris was immediately on his feet and his fist connected with Volkan's jaw with such strength that his head flew back.

His brother staggered but swung the dagger, managing to cut front of Eris's shirt and scratch his chest.

Eris caught his arm with dagger, the other hand landed on his throat. The air filled with a smell of burnt meat. Columns of smoke began to rise from under his hands and Volkan opened mouth in a silent scream, flames shot from his insides and his eyes. It was a horrible sight. Thankfully it took just a second and before your eyes he turned into ashes carried away by the wind.

As the relief that the nightmare was finally over, spread in your chest, you noticed something else. You again couldn't breathe. Your mouth filled with blood, the front of your dress was already soaked in it. He didn't cut you that much or he did?

Your knees buckled and you began to fall to the ground. Eris's arms wrapped around you, slowing down your fall. He carefully pulled you into his lap, his face contorted in pain and rage, his amber eyes filled with silver tears. He pressed a trembling palm to the long cut across your neck, trying to stop the bleeding. It must have happened when you elbowed Volkan, but because of the adrenaline you didn't feel it right away.

"No," he sobbed. "No! You have to stay with me. Do you hear me? Stay with me!"

You were making wet squeaking noises as you fought for air. Your eyes found his face in a fading light. You needed to apologize to him. You had to, before it would be late. You couldn't leave like this. You focused on that with your whole being while numbing cold was slowly spreading through your body, the darkness lurking at the edges of your vision. You couldn't feel your legs nor arms anymore. The time was running through your fingers like water, unstoppable.

Eris's hot tears were falling on your face and rolling down your cheeks like your own.

"You can't leave me. Not yet. Not before I-.."his voice broke and he shook his head. "My Y/N.. my sweet mate.. Please, not yet.. Stay with me.."

"E..ri..s.." you wheezed. It was so exhausting to push even so short word through your stiff lips. You desperately needed more air and more time.

The sounds of heavy footsteps filled the air and Killian with a few soldiers and healer at his heels appeared. They were slightly out of breath after running up so many steps.

"Five dead guards and several injured were found. I came as soon as-" Killian halted as he saw you in Eris's lap, the blood seeping between his fingers on your neck.

Eris was shaking wildly with sobs, pressing you to his chest, your eyes never leaving his face despite hardly seeing it. It's been a while since you stopped feeling his touch that was keeping you warm. "It doesn't heal.. Why? This can't be.. My mate is-"

You never learnt what he was about to say because darkness swallowed you suddenly, without warning. The picture of his harrowed expression and damp face was burned into your mind, following you to the nothingness. All your senses shut down at once and you felt as light as feather, floating in a void of space and time.

You didn't make it.

You didn't apologize.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Best Friends

Raphael x Donnie'sFriend!Reader (mention of Red's "not-crush, totally not a crush at all")

No warnings

"So, you and D have been getting pretty close..." he says after a few moments of staring. He'd walked up those few moments ago to stand just outside the perimeter of the living room.

You look up from the book in your hands to the hulking figure of, well... basically the Hulk.

Raphael shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. He's D's big bro. It's his job to look out for him, and that's what he's doing. He's just worried. He's worried that Donnie is interested in you because you could break Donnie's heart.

-He's also worried that you're interested in Donnie because you could break his.-

And, he wasn't wrong. Similar interests meant that you and Donnie were hanging out a lot. Especially now that you'd finally convinced him to join your D&D group. In fact, right now you're hanging out at the lair waiting for Donatello to finish whatever the hell he was working on, so you could help him with his character sheet.

You've been hanging out a lot with Raphael lately, too. And he wasnt developing a crush. Seriously, he wasn't. He just loves hanging out with you and if you hang out with other guys than you're not hanging out with him. Totally not a crush. Nope.

You look up at him for a moment quizzically, before it dawns on you what's happening, at least half of it anyway, and a warm smile spreads across your face, "Your a good big brother," you say, grinning. He's protecting your friend and you're grateful.

You hold up a finger and call over toward the open metal door of Donnie's lab. "Hey, D!"

"Speak," the reply came from beyond.

"What if we started dating?" It's silent for several moments. Raph shoots you a look and the hand holding up the finger opens in a pacifying gesture, a bemused smile affixed to your face.

A couple more moments and Donnie's tall form emerges from the lab slowly, giving you the same look he'd give you if you'd seriously suggested that all the electrons in the universe had been replaced with blue M&M's. He blinks at you a few times before removing his glasses, rubbing his eyes, and replacing them.

"Well..." he begins, almost looking like the idea causes him physical pain, "We'd either kill each other for getting in each other's way... die of dehydration from enabling the other's unhealthy work habits... or we'd end up building a death ray."

There are a few moments of silence. "We don't have to be dating to build a death ray..." you mutter, looking away innocently

A few more moments of silence.

"...do you... want... to build a-"

"OF COURSE I WANT TO BUILD A DEATH RAY DONNIE WHAT THE FUCK!" You yell, head spinning quickly back to look at him, clearly offended he would even suggest that you wouldn't want to build a death ray.

A manic grin splits your face, the kind Raph has only ever seen from his brother. Usually before something explodes.

You sit up straighter, hands out in front of you, way way too excited. "Okay okay okay, so hear me out... Tabletop Death Ray," you say with a grand gesture, obviously having given this prior thought.

Donnie makes a face, "Party favor."

You raise a finger and point at him, "Precision Sniper Rifle."

The Donnie's eyes narrow and the corner of his mouth turns up, "You have my attention..."

Raphael is conflicted. There's the relief of course that you and Donnie would obviously never work. You're exactly the same person. But, Raphael looks back and forth and is actually afraid...

Now there are two of you.

....

❄️🎶 Do you wanna build a Death Ray?🎶❄️

....

Tag List

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[scientia-rex]

Because my most popular post is about weight loss and how it's a crock, I get a lot of questions about various things, including bariatric surgery--just posted the link to the post I did about that--but also Ozempic/Wegovy, the once-weekly injectable semaglutide medication that was developed for diabetes but was found to have independent benefits on weight loss.

I always said that weight loss was like Viagra: when a medication came along that actually worked, it would explode. We'd all hear about it. Fen-phen in the 90s worked, but it was bad for your heart. Stimulants, like meth, may cause weight loss, but they do it at the cost of heart health, and raise your likelihood of dying young. Over the counter weight loss supplements often contain illegal and unlisted thyroid hormone, which is also dangerous for the heart if taken in the absence of a real deficiency. Orlistat, or "Alli," works the same way as the Olestra chips Lays made in the 1990s--it shuts off your ability to digest fats, and the problem with that is that fats irritate the gut, so then you end up with fatty diarrhea and probably sharts. Plus Alli only leads to 8-10lbs of weight loss in the best case scenario, and most people are not willing to endure sharts for the sake of 8lbs.

And then came the GLP-1 agonists. GLP stands for glucagon-like peptide. Your body uses insulin to make cells uptake sugar. You can't just have free-floating sugar and use it, it has to go into the cells to be used. So if your body sucks at moving sugar into the cells, you end up with a bunch of glucose hanging out in places where it shouldn't be, depositing on small vessels, damaging nerves and your retinas and kidneys and everywhere else that has a whole lot of sensitive small blood vessels, like your brain.

Glucagon makes your liver break down stored sugars and release them. You can think of it as part of insulin's supporting cast. If your body needs sugar and you aren't eating it, you aren't going to die of hypoglycemia, unless you've got some rare genetic conditions--your liver is going to go, whoops, here you go! and cough it up.

But glucagon-like peptide doesn't act quite the same way. What glucagon-like peptide does is actually stimulating your body to release insulin. It inhibits glucagon secretion. It says, we're okay, we're full, we just ate, we don't need more glucagon right now.

This has been enough for many people to both improve blood sugar and cause weight loss. Some patients find they think about food less, which can be a blessing if you have an abnormally active hunger drive, or if you have or had an eating disorder.

However, every patient I've started on semaglutide in any form (Ozempic, Wegovy, or Rybelsus) has had nausea to start with, probably because it slows the rate of stomach emptying. And that nausea sometimes improves, and sometimes it doesn't. There's some reports out now of possible gastroparesis associated with it, which is where the stomach just stops contracting in a way that lets it empty normally into the small intestine. That may not sound like a big deal, but it's a lifelong ticket to abdominal pain and nausea and vomiting, and we are not good at treating it. We're talking Reglan, a sedating anti-nausea but pro-motility agent, which makes many of my patients too sleepy to function, or a gastric pacemaker, which is a relatively new surgery. You can also try a macrolide antibiotic, like erythromycin, but I have had almost no success in getting insurance to cover those and also they have their own significant side effects.

Rapid weight loss from any cause, whether illness, medication, or surgery, comes with problems. Your skin is not able to contract quickly. It probably will, over long periods of time, but "Ozempic face" and "Ozempic butt" are not what people who want to lose weight are looking for. Your vision of your ideal body does not include loose, excess skin.

The data are also pretty clear that you can't "kick start" weight loss with Ozempic and then maintain it with behavioral mechanisms. If you want to maintain the weight loss, you need to stay on the medication. A dose that is high enough to cause weight loss is significantly higher than the minimum dose where we see improvements in blood sugar, and with a higher dose comes higher risk of side effects.

I would wait on semaglutide. I would wait because it's been out for a couple of years now but with the current explosion in popularity we're going to see more nuanced data on side effects emerging. When you go from Phase III human trials to actual use in the world, you get thousands or millions more data points, and rare side effects that weren't seen in the small human trials become apparent. It's why I always say my favorite things for a drug to be are old, safe, and cheap.

I also suspect the oral form, Rybelsus, is going to get more popular and be refined in some way. It's currently prohibitively expensive--all of these are; we're talking 1200 or so bucks a month before insurance, and insurance coverage varies widely. I have patients who pay anything from zero to thirty to three hundred bucks a month for injectable semaglutide. I don't think I currently have anyone whose insurance covers Rybelsus who could also tolerate the nausea. My panel right now is about a thousand patients.

There are also other GLP-1 agonists. Victoza, a twice-daily injection, and Trulicity, and anything else that ends in "-aglutide". But those aren't as popular, despite being cheaper, and they aren't specifically approved for weight loss.

Mounjaro is a newer one, tirzepatide, that acts on two receptors rather than one. In addition to stimulating GLP-1 receptors, it also stimulates glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP) receptors. It may work better; I'm not sure whether that's going to come with a concomitantly increased risk of side effects. It's still only approved for diabetes treatment, but I suspect that will change soon and I suspect we'll see a lot of cross-over in terms of using it to treat obesity.

I don't think these medications are going away. I also don't think they're right for everyone. They can reactivate medullary thyroid carcinoma; they can fuck up digestion; they may lead to decreased quality of life. So while there may be people who do well with them, it is okay if those people are not you. You do not owe being thin to anyone. You most certainly do not owe being thin to the extent that you should risk your health for it. Being thin makes navigating a deeply fat-hating world easier, in many ways, so I never blame anyone for wanting to be thin; I just want to emphasize that it is okay if you stay fat forever.

[temporarywelcome]

Jezebel - James Patrick March

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with James March, but he's already completely smitten with his new wife, despite the fact he knows she plans on killing him. Hey, it's kind of hot.

WARNINGS: some swearing, some violence, death, sexual implications but no smut

A/N: they're so Gomez and Morticia. They match each other's freak. Yes, I used the vows from the Corpse Bride.

___________

James March was a very interesting man.

The way he carried himself as if he had no care in the world was enticing. He radiated confidence and grace, and was, well, an overall attractive man. 

And he was to be her husband. A fiance she never even met till tonight. 

It was 1923, a time where this “dating” thing was becoming popular, yet here the two of them were, meeting three weeks before their planned wedding. March was slowly becoming wealthier and wealthier, but his mother demanded he be wed, with a woman to take care of his estate while he did his business. Someone to care for him when she would eventually meet her own unfortunate demise. 

And so his mother found Y/N L/N, a pure beauty that many men oggled over obsessively. She was young, single, and his mother just could sense the compatibility when she saw Y/N’s lovely picture. Her son would love this girl. 

Except there was more to Y/N than meets the eye. 

Sitting at the dinner table, James eyed her in curiosity. “Did you come here from a funeral, darling?” he asked cheekily, his usual charming grin etched onto his face.

She looked up from her plate, raising a perfectly penciled in brow, “Why yes, actually,” 

He scratched the back of his neck, not expecting that answer. He had just meant to make a light-hearted joke about her attire: the long, ruffled black dress and hat to match in color, adorned with black and burgundy feathers. To accompany the clothing were sleek black gloves, lace along the wrist area. “Oh dear, my apologies. I hope I have not offended you.”

“No no,” she waved a hand dismissively, “It was not for anyone I knew,”

“Oh?” Now he was intrigued, taking a sip of his wine, the same color of her plump lips, “Then why would you attend such an event?”

“Death excites me,” she replied, and he was sure he had fallen in love right then and there, “As well as I find grief interesting to no end,”

“Interesting?” the man asked, smitten beyond compare, “What is so interesting about grief, my dear?”

Her lips curled into a devious smile, “How everyone grieves differently. Some cry, others laugh, some don’t give a damn. What I find the most hilarious is people establishing relationships. At a funeral of all places!”

“Horrid indeed isn’t it?” he asked with a chuckle. 

“It is! A splendid horror!” Y/N nodded in agreement. 

March watched as she expertly cracked open a crab leg, impressed in her abilities to do so without juices exploding everywhere. “You’re a stunning woman, you know?”

She looked at him from her meal and that devious smirk appeared once again, “And you’re a very handsome man, Mr. March,”

“Tell me, dearest, how old are you? Have you ever wed before?”

It looked like she had to think about it, which March thought nothing of at the time, already completely smitten. “Twenty-eight,” she replied, “And yes, I have,” 

“You have? And what had become of that marriage?”

“All three were tragedies,” she replied, bringing a piece of crab to her mouth with a fork. Three?! “I’ve sadly been widowed three times. A black widow, you might call me.” 

Three marriages that ended in the death of her spouse? March doubted this was any bit coincidental. “What an unfortunate event! On all three accounts! How did these poor souls die?” 

“Ah, all different ways. My first had a heart attack. The second, I still think to be my true love, committed suicide. Not because of me, of course, as he explained why in his letter. The third, he… he was tragically murdered one night,” 

Oh how intriguing of a woman she was! March asked, “Murdered! In what way?” 

“His throat was slashed,” she answered, “And he was drained of his blood.” Y/N then took a sip of her wine, not at all bothered by the fact. 

James March smirked, placing his chin on his palm as he stared at her. Oh, how infatuated he was. He was sure those death were not as she said they were. He was sure she had something to do with it. 

And he was sure as hell that if he married her, he would be her next target.

Oh, what a lovely woman he was so willing to marry!

________

The next three weeks went by in a blur. 

Y/N would wake up to endless gifts being left at her door: trinkets, jewels, flowers, heels, silk gloves, anything a woman could dream of. He would call her on the telephone at five p.m. every day just before dinner, and for those three Fridays he would take her on lavish dinners and dates. 

He went above and beyond for the woman he knew surely wanted to kill him. 

It was now the morning of the wedding, and Y/N’s telephone rang. She curiously went to it, grabbing the device and bringing it to her ear. Grabbing the other part in her unoccupied hand, she spoke into it: “Hello?”

“Hello, my dearest, I am thrilled to hear your beautiful voice this morning. It reminds me of sweet honey: smooth and-”

“James?” she interrupted him, “Why are you calling this early?”

James laughed lightly, “Because today is our wedding day, my love. I cannot call you at five p.m. because at five p.m. you will be in my welcoming arms! Are you excited?”

“I’m trembling in desire, darling,” she replied, “I must attend to my wedding preparations,”

“You will look absolutely ravishing, my sweet. Oh, how I adore you. I will leave you to your duties, anxiously waiting to wed my beautiful bride.” 

“I will see you very soon, my handsome king,” Y/N said, “Goodbye,” She hung up the two parts of the telephone and set it back down, preparing herself for her big day.

Her fourth big day. 

The stylists got to work, putting her hair in rollers, painting her nails a shiny jet black, carefully applying her dramatic makeup. She went for walks all done out, she wasn’t going to be caught slacking on her on wedding.

Fourth wedding. 

That James March knew of.

“How long do you plan on keeping this one for?” her loyal servant, Ms. Barnes, asked, blowing on the nail polish adorning Y/N’s fingernails. “He’s a handsome one.” 

Y/N thought for a moment, “I’m unsure. He is actually… sweet.” 

“And rich,” said another servant, Ms. Michaels, busying herself with Y/N’s hair. 

“So was her second,” Ms. Barnes pointed out, “And he lasted three months.”

“His riches are not of importance to me,” Y/N told her servants, “I do not need a man’s riches when I have my own,”

“How true, Ms. L/N,” Ms. Barned nodded in agreement, “There is no point in having men if it isn’t for one’s own entertainment.”

_________

This was marked the best day of James Patrick March’s short life. 

He stood at the alter adjusting his bow tie with the biggest grin a man could have as he waited for his beautiful bride to grace the audience with her presence. Practically the entirety of Chicago came to the celebration of their love, rows upon rows of guests laid out before him as he anxiously waited.

And then she came down the aisle, the orchestra expertly playing the familiar tune of Here Comes the Bride as she took each step. She didn’t just want an organ player, she wanted the whole deal. The organ, violins, a beautiful symphony as she had her big moment. And of course, James was quick to make the arrangement for his beloved. 

She was an absolute beauty, in a large dress that took up most of the aisle’s width. Black and lacey, with tiered ruffles, off the shoulder to show off her soft shoulders. Her veil was also black lace, partially covering her face, the back half dozens of feet long. His fiance was a maximalist, and he made sure she was about to get an equally maximalist wedding. 

The wedding went as planned. When it was James’ turn to do his vows, he raised his hand as previously instructed during the practice, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows.” he raised his chalice, “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine,” he poured the red wine into the glass. Red as her lips. Her signature color. He placed down the chalice, grabbing a lighter for the candle that was in front of him, “With this candle, I will light your way in darkness,” Finally, he grabbed her ring, the blood ruby shining in the light of the candle, “With this ring, I ask you to be mine,” he slid it onto her slender finger before pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. 

Y/N perfectly recited the vows as well, slipping the ring onto his finger. They then took their glasses and took a sip of the sweet wine, before finally, sharing a kiss to seal the deal. James carefully moved her veil, revealing the face of the seductress that had his heart. His arms went around her as he leaned in, kissing her with all of the passion in him.

They were now wed. 

The wedding activities soon began, the newly weds beginning their first dance. James brought an arm around her waist, pulling her close as they began to dance, “You look absolutely stunning, darling, you have impeccable taste of fashion,”

“Hm,” she replied with a smirk, “I think I have upset quite a few with the color of my dress,”

“To hell with them. All of them, jealous of your immense beauty,” said March, pressing a kiss to her jaw, “I just might be the luckiest man in this room. Such a dazzling woman I have in my embrace,” with a smirk, he whispered in her ear, “I could just die from excitement,” 

_________

The next few months went by in a blur.

James March made sure to treat Y/N like a queen, spoiling her beyond compare. He knew she wanted to kill him, but did not say a word. She knew about his special new hobby. She didn’t say anything either. 

Once the fifth month passed, Ms. Barnes, who was diligently doing Y/N’s hair, said: “I think we have ourselve’s a record. Five months, the longest you have kept a husband.” 

She hummed in response, lighting a cigarette, “Correct. The longest. I have not become bored of him just yet.”

“Well, he’s not a boring man, Mrs. March,” Ms. Michaels mused, “He treats you like gold,”

“That he does,” Y/N said in agreement, a satisfied look on her face, “I don’t think any of my ex-husbands have treated me this well. It is quite… refreshing,”

“You don’t have to kill him, you know?” Ms. Barnes told her, “You’re allowed to find happiness,” 

“But, Ms. Barnes, that is what gives me happiness,” she shrugged, taking a long puff of her cig, “There is just something so wonderful about…. Watching the life… leave their eyes,” she smiled sweetly, sighing in joy at the thought, “However, I quite like James alive. Perhaps I would need a new fix.” 

Over the past few years (124, to be exact), Y/N had a cycle. She would tease herself, almost edge herself by only drinking the blood of animals to quench her thirsts, marry a man, and once she couldn’t handle it anymore, kill him. Usually in some fun, intricate way. Then she would feast on his blood until he was completely dry.

It was a fun game that has kept her satisfied for decades already.

Until now.

The thought of killing James March didn’t sound right to her anymore.

“We have a ball today,” she told her servants, “I’m sure I will find someone of use for the night,” 

James had vowed to make two days of October the biggest spectacle of Chicago. October 30th, his birthday, which he named Devil’s Night, because he was dramatic like that. The day that came after was Y/N’s birthday, October 31st, Halloween, which very much fit her. 

So not only was Devil’s Night a huge celebration, but so was Halloween, the night of James March’s beloved. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and James entered the room, “My love! You look ravishing,” he practically pushed through the two servants, placing his hands on her shoulders, placing a few kisses along her neck, “Absoutely stunning, dear,” he then pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“James! You’ll mess up my makeup!”

“No matter, just reapply it. I’ll always buy you more,” James replied smugly, kissing her cheek again, “My beautiful wife. Happy birthday again. I feel my present for you would look lovely with your dress,” He glanced at Ms. Barnes and Ms. Michaels, “Shoo shoo,” he waved them off.

“Behave,” Y/N deadpanned. 

“My apologies, dearest,” he said, though he obviously didn’t give a damn, “I just can’t wait to get you alone,” he nipped at her neck. Noticing the warning look in her eyes, he laughed, pulling away, “Fine fine, evil woman. Close your eyes while I give you your gift!”

Y/N smirked lightly, closing her eyes as her husband took out her gift. Obviously a necklace, feeling him place it along her neck, the large jewels cascading down her chest. He fastened the clasp, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck, “Open your eyes, darling,” 

Her eyes opened, and she smiled in pleasant surprise. Of course, the necklace was adorned in huge diamonds, he was never cheap when it came to his beloved. “Oh, James, it’s wonderful!” she said, meeting his gaze through the mirror, “Thank you,”

“Ah, anything for you, my dear,” James smirked, squeezing her shoulders from behind, “My beautiful wife.” he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear fondly, “We could always be late to the party,” he said suggestively.

“Late? To my own party? I think not,” Y/N stood up, laughing at the pout on her husband’s lips, “Don’t fret, dear, I will be all yours when the night ends.” she promised, arms going around his neck as she stared into his dark, dark eyes, “But for now you must wait,” she stuck out her tongue, teasingly grazing his earlobe.

“You naughty girl,” James said in excitement, gripping her hips, ‘You Jezebel you,” 

She giggled seductively, “All for you, my dear,” 

Oh, she did not want to kill him. Not at all. 

And so they left the room and made way to the grand spiral staircase. The couple stopped at the top, James releasing her hand, “Stay here, darling, let me introduce the star of the night!” he made the descent down each step until he stood at the bottom gathering the attention of the guests scattered all throughout their grand home. He introduced his wife, holding out a hand to her as she made her way down the steps.

Each step was careful and precise (like usual, her dress was huge), radiating confidence as she greeted her guests. Y/N took her husband’s hand, allowing him to bring her close.

The night festivities went as planned, Y/N certainly enjoying the effort her husband took into making sure her birthday went perfectly. He always went above and beyond for her, always seeking her approval. He was completely devoted.

After a while, Y/N purposely got separated from him in search of someone. A victim. If she wasn’t going to kill her husband, she had to kill someone else. She was tired of teasing herself.

It didn’t take her long to find some stupid man, some lawyer named George. He was quick to get handsy with her, so she led him off to one of the many guest rooms. He was desperately ripping at her dress, which she loosened up with an eye roll. 

God she wasn’t in the mood for this. 

She pinned him down to the bed, glaring at him darkly, tongue darting out to lick her lips. He was annoying. He didn’t have that sexy drawl like her husband. Those dark but comforting brown eyes. Those hands fit perfectly on her hips.

It wouldn’t matter to her if this man died. 

And with a smirk, she raised a hand, each finger covered by a claw-like ornament, a gift from her loving husband, of course. He said it “fit her style”.

He was so right.

She let her index finger run along his chest, then slowly his throat, leaving goosebumps along the trembling skin, until with a swift motion, she swiped her finger, swiped the claw, and his throat was slit. Buying her face into his neck, she lapped up the sweet flavor of his blood. 

Finally, she needed this.

As she hungrily drank, the door opened. 

“Oh, dearest, whatever are you doing?”

Y/N shot up, head snapping in the direction of James March. Her husband. However, he didn’t seem terrified. Or pissed. 

He simply laughed, arms going around her from behind, “My love is either a lunatic or a vampire. Or both.” he gripped the ribbons of her dress, tightening her corset to fix it, “I must say… It’s rather sexy.”

And so began a new dynamic.

James took it upon himself to do the dirty work. His wife should never get those soft hands dirty. 

And so he did the killing, and she would watch, with a look of approval on her face. He would then take her hand and help her out of her chair and towards the body, admiring how she looked as she drank the man dry. 

“That was supposed to be me, wasn't it?” He asked during one of their little “sessions”. “You wanted to drain me of my blood.”

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and she glanced up at him, “possibly.”

“It's alright, my dear, I take no offense,” he laughed, grabbing a cloth to clean off his knife. “I must have earned the right to live, huh?”

She smirked up at him, “not many would do this for their wives,”

And their dynamics continued. He killed, she ate, they had hot sex after.

And it worked well. 

James ended up building a grand hotel, all of Chicago raving over it. The Hotel Cortez. He originally wanted to name it after Y/N, his beloved, but she herself told him that was a stupid idea. 

They spent a lot of time there, whether it was to aid guests, host events, pass time, or even pick off a few victims. 

After a while, they even began to discuss the possibility of children. James was dead set on two: a boy (named James March JR, of course), and a girl (named after you, of course).

Y/N made it clear she found that to be extremely boring. Just naming the children after themselves? How cliche.

Pretty much every night after basically rearranging her organs, he would lay with her and yap and yap and yap about how it's important for them to continue their legacies, and then he yaps some more about if the baby inherits her thirst for blood if it would be immortal and all these different questions.

They were planning for the future, until disaster struck.

A peaceful day in the hotel, James having his lovely wife in his embrace as he spoke to patrons. She went off on her own duties after a while, until meeting with James again in one of the rooms.

Something was wrong.

Once he saw her, he rushed to her and gave her a rough kiss, cupping her cheeks with such urgency, “My love….” He whispered, “someone ratted me out. Someone knew.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she whispered, hands going to his wrists as she looked up at him, “You mean…?”

“Yes, our little hobby,” March brought her against his chest, an arm around her waist, a hand raking through her hair, “Oh how I hope it wasn’t you who told. Don’t even tell me, I would be devastated,” he sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

“No, James,” she replied in a quiet tone, “I did not tell anyone. You know I love you.” She pulled away slightly to look up at him, “If I wanted you gone, you know I would have killed you myself.”

A soft smile reached her husband's lips as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Always the loyal wife. I adore you, my dear.” There was a hint of genuine sadness in his tone as he held her close. “Will you be the one to finish me?”

Y/N shook her head right away, “No!” she pulled away completely, “No, I won't. You've been the only husband I've loved. I can't…. I can't kill you.”

With another sad smile, he held her again, “I understand, dearest. Just… stay with me while I do it? Please?”

This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't.

But she nodded, face buried in his chest, “Yes… I'll stay with you,”

“Thank you, my love,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head. He held her for a moment before pulling away and taking her hand, sitting down. There was a knife on the table and he shakily grabbed it. “This won't be the first throat I slash,” he tried to joke, but it came out flat. James squeezed her hand as he brought the knife to his throat, but his wife speedily stopped him.

“I'll…. I'll do it,” she gulped out, trembling hand taking the knife from him and placing it back on the table.

“Are you sure? You don't have to, my love, I can do it myself.”

“No, no, I-I'll do it,” she repeated. Y/N seated herself on her lover's lap, arms going around his neck as she captured his lips in a desperate kiss. She could feel tears forming as she realized this would be their last kiss.

Her last kiss with the first husband she's ever loved. 

Maybe this was her punishment for all of her terrible deeds. The universe taking away the one man she ever truly loved. 

As they continued to kiss, she brought her clawed index finger to his throat, fingers trembling the closer she got. She pulled away from the kiss, “R-Ready?”

Despite everything, he smiled. “I'm ready, darling.” he pressed his forehead against hers, “I will always be with you,” 

And with that, she slashed his throat.

Y/N let out a soft cry watching the life quickly leave his eyes, the one man she wanted to stay alive. “Oh, James…” she cupped his cheeks, kissing his lifeless lips. “I love you I love you I love you,”

She could hear loud footsteps coming up the stairs, and she knew it was time to go. She grabbed the knife, bringing it to his bloodied neck before placing it into her lover's hand.

And with that, she climbed out the window.

“I will always be with you,” the words hung in her mind as she went down the fire escape.

She didn't know he was going to keep his word, even in death. 

---------

Yall i love him. inbox is open btw

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 15

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: angst, survivor's trauma, smut, FLUFF chapter map

-You stay together for a few days in the hotel in town to recover from your ordeal. Burns, Paul’s slashed arm, a possible concussion, raw scrapes at your wrists and ankles, and the lacerations upon your back that you feel sharply every time you move. A persistent cough dogs you without mercy, your lungs raw from smoke and the pure heat you’d endured in the inferno. 

Anjélica is able to slip away once to check on you. She tells you that Las Nubes has fallen into chaos. No body was ever recovered from the ruins of the house, but it was such an inferno that there’s no conceivable possibility don Juan survived. You hug your sister tearfully, certain you’ll never be able to return to your childhood home again. You do not know how your misadventure will pan out for the rest of your family, living in the shadow of the Aragóns.

When doña Maria sends a representative to your door to make noises about murder and arson, you tell them you’ll be glad to tell the world in court about what depraved things her son Juan Aragón y Espinosa did to you. The papers will eat up every sordid detail. To people like the Aragóns, saving face is everything. It would be their worst nightmare. 

They went away, and you haven’t heard from them again. 

You are sure they will rebuild, and the winery will go on, eventually under Juan’s younger brother, Pedro, who has been away at school. 

You have mixed feelings about Juan’s death. 

A part of you mourns the loss of your childhood companion. The more logical part of you insists that there was nothing left of that boy in the prideful monster Juan became. He fully intended to destroy you for the sake of his own ego, one way or another. He left you to die, and you should feel nothing for him. 

You always thought you would have been burned as a witch in an earlier century. 

You never imagined it was a fate you might actually face in the present time, had your sister, Paul, and the Veterans, bless them all, not banded together to save you. 

Now you and Paul have harrowing nightmares about your pasts, together. You cling to each other at night in your little room, taking turns soothing the other. 

What a pair you make. 

Paul helps change the dressings upon your shoulders. Some of it will heal, but you will be scarred for the rest of your life by what Juan did. You watch Paul work in the mirror, see the dismay upon his handsome features as he peels back your bandages. The wretched words fall from your lips before you can stop them: “Am I ugly?” 

His touch upon you freezes for a moment, taken aback by the vehemence of your outburst. 

You’re afraid that’s your answer, until he asks a question back: “Do you think my scar is ugly?” 

He surely means the long raised cicatrice that stretches the entire length of his abdomen, a souvenir from war shrapnel that nearly took his life in France. You turn in his arms on the bed to look at it, for he is shirtless behind you, only wearing blue-striped boxer shorts and a bandage around his upper arm, every inch your battered war-hero. Your heart is filled with so much love you fear it might explode, and you climb into his lap with your arms around his shoulders.  

“Of course not,” you answer without falter.  

“Why not?” His hands on your waist anchor you, pulling you closer. There’s no where you feel safer, as though finally you’ve found the place where you belong. You cup his face in your hands, tracing those high cheekbones with your thumbs. His eyes are liquid pools filled with so much earnest yearning–this man is so good, so valiant, so true, and you don’t know what you did to deserve him. 

“Because…I love every part of you, Paul Sutton. I love you.” Realizing the magnitude of this admission, you start to cry, but then somehow, you start to laugh too, ducking to hide in the bend of his neck “I’m so sorry.” 

“For what?” he asks through his own tears and laughter, flummoxed by joy and squeezing you carefully in his strong arms.    

“For…everything. For being me. For what happened. For getting you involved–”

He effectively shuts you up with his mouth on yours, a bone-melting kiss that renders you soft and pliant in his arms. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything,” he insists with his forehead pressed to yours. “I would only change…that you got hurt.” 

You’ve never really talked about Juan’s demise, and the parts the two of you played in it. You find that your only remorse in that moment…is that you have no remorse. 

You kiss him again, a lingering lock of lips that feels like offering up a piece of your soul to this man. You feel him smiling against your mouth, and for the umpteenth time you think your heart will burst. 

“Will you say it again?” he asks, so shyly with such a sparkle in his dark eyes. He is breathtaking beyond words, and in that moment you don’t know how you haven’t told him, every day and every hour. 

You never told him what you said to Juan to earn the worst part of your thrashing–you never intend to, you know he would just feel guilty, and that is not a weight you intend to lay on his shoulders, when he already carries so much. But you know what you said that night is true. This man owns you–in the way two puzzle pieces meet, or a lock that has finally found its long lost key–and incredibly…you are fine with that now. There is a freedom in this acceptance of the truth that makes you absolutely giddy inside.  

“I love you.” You say it again, and again, between kisses and running your hands over his form you adore so well. He shudders as your nails graze his scalp and your hips press into his, finding him at full attention between you. Suddenly what little clothing you’re wearing is too much between you. Yet he catches your hands when you reach for the buttons of his shorts. 

“Sweetheart…I want to,” he sighs raggedly. “I want you so much, but you’re hurt, and I–” 

You kiss him again, merciless in your sudden need to devour him whole and lick the bones clean. It’s amazing, how desire acts as such an effective painkiller.  “I’ll be fine. I will not be fine, if I can’t have you inside me.” 

He laughs, that beautiful, unassuming sound that fills you with sunlight. “Honey…” 

“Come here.” He lets you–of course he lets you, you could not budge this strapping man without his cooperation–nudge him over until he can lay back on the bed, and you can straddle his hips. As you undo his buttons you can tell Paul is fighting a war with himself, torn between need and worry. Taking off your brassiere helps slightly–you can’t help but grin with a bit of wickedness as a small sound escapes him, looking up at you. 

“Y/n…” 

“I’m alright,” you tell him gently. “Because of you. Let me thank you.” You feel the burn in your back, the sharp ache as you stretch your skin to lean down to press your lips to his scar, but you have no intention of stopping. 

“You don’t need to thank me…” His breath hitches, his fingers tangling in your hair as you brush the velvety tip of his manhood with your chin 

“I want to. I want to be close to you.” 

That much he agrees with, and you watch him nod, eyes half-lidded, before taking him into your mouth. 

Though he clearly loves it, his head thrown back into the bedclothes, he only lets you savor him for a little while before he tugs gently on your hair, urging you up, needing you too, guiding you with those big hands on your hips until you are sinking onto his thick length, and the both of you see stars. 

“Go slow,” he cautions you sheepishly. “Or I’ll lose it.”

You are so pent up with desire and emotion that you know you won’t last long either. You savor the delicious stretch of him inside you, riding him slowly with your breasts in your hands, his thumb on your ripe little clit driving you mad. He brings you like the sun cresting the horizon, a warm and bright pleasure that fills your center and spreads through your bones. You know he holds on by a thread as your greedy cunt milks every last drop of golden ecstasy from him, his strong fingers digging into your hips with a moan. Breathless, you take mercy on him, uncoupling to take him in your mouth once more. The taste of him spilling upon your tongue is divine–his throaty moans the most wonderful sound. 

With a satisfied sigh you curl up beside him, resting your cheek on his ribs, shuddering for his featherlight fingers tracing over your hair, careful of your shoulders. That disbelieving laughter you love so much draws your attention back up to him, finding him looking down at you with so much joy shining in those lovely dark eyes. 

Not for the first time, you think he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you too,” you answer with a smile, and in that happy moment you know you are equally blessed and ruined. 

The latter, you are finally ready to accept with an open heart.  

___

epilogue to follow...

[nomoreusername]

Barely Holding On

Pairing:Newt x female reader

Summary:When Newt finds you hurting yourself he goes from angry to looking after and comforting you.

⚠️ Self harm ⚠️

I don't feel normal. I don't feel like I can do as much as anyone else. I don't feel good enough. I just feel so empty, so absolutely worthless. It's as though I'm a ticking time bomb ready to explode and hurt everything around me at any moment.

I don't want to do that. I don't want to be frustrated all the time. I don't want to always wonder if there's something particular messed up in my head. I just want everything to finally feel alright. Not even good. Just normal. Just okay.

I never do. Sure. Sometimes I feel nonchalant or happy when something good happens, but it never lasts.

I didn't bother to try to get clean. Nobody even notices so it doesn't matter anyway. Not only that but when they heal they itch until all I can think about is the cuts littering my skin.

I was supposed to be hanging out with Chuck. I said I would spend Greenie night with him. I want to. I do. I do want to be out there with him, with the Gladers, with my few friends, having a carefree time. I thought I would be able to.

I wasn't. I barely got halfway through the evening before my head kept reminding me that there's a knife waiting for me back under my cot.

"I don't feel very good,"I told him. It isn't even a lie. If I don't cut in the next few minutes, I'm going to start hyperventilating. I need it. I just do. I don't want to, but if I don't get it everything will be ruined.

"But you said-"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Probably. I have to leave though,"I rushed out, standing up before he could actually question me. Resisting the urge to sprint, I kept my hands in my pockets as I walked to my hut. Even though every single foot feels like a million miles I can't be suspicious. I can't, I can't, I can't.

With my heart racing inside of my chest, I didn't dare let my body weigh itself down. My feet need to move. Every part of me needs to move. Every part of me is frozen while also being on autopilot. Absolutely none of it makes sense, but it also does. It does to me. To my messed up brain, all of this is logical.

Bursting into my hut, I was shaking as I slammed the door shut. Ignoring the way I could hardly see through the tears clouding my vision or maybe too messed up to actually notice, I forced my feet one after the other to my cot.

Leaning over, I didn't even have to look to know exactly where the knife was placed. Gripping the handle firmly, I pulled it out from its hidden in plain sight place. You can't really see it when you're in my room, but it's always there. Once you know it is, it takes up more space than any other object, even me.

As I held it the tears just seemed to stop. Everything inside of me stopped. Something in me went cold, almost dark. Numb. It was just numb.

Pulling up my sleeves, I revealed the rows of growing cuts and scars. It started monthly, but now it seems to grow daily. It's taken over my life. Sometimes I realize that, but when I'm doing it some part of me doesn't know anything at all.

Dragging it across one of the few areas that was untouched by darkness, I watched as the blood dripped down my skin. It's as though this is all happening in third person, as if it's not even me doing this anymore.

The sting takes longer to set in now. I think I'm adjusting to the pain or something. That means I either have to either cut longer or deeper. Not enough to die. I don't want to die. I just need my mind to calm down. That's all this is. This is my only hope left of actually holding on.

As I crossed over a fresh cut I winced. Realizing that was the ticket to pain, I went over that spot again and again. By now the shouts of the Gladers and yells of happiness were tuned out. Everything is. Everything but the pain and the blood.

Tears started to fall as the self loathing came back. I could be out there, fulfilling my promise. Instead, I've locked myself in here to cut. It's so messed up. It's all wrong. I'm wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong!

I hate this. I hate this, but it's the only way to keep stable. It's killing every part of me, but if I don't do this I'll genuinely lose it. I can't lose it. I can't. Not here. This is better than the alternatives. It's better, and it's fine, and nobody will know.

"Y/N?"Newt asked, knocking on my door. As I was brought back to reality I slowly looked at the damage.

It had fallen down my arms, getting crimson drops on my pants. There were blood splatters on the ground. My actual wrist was more of a mess than my head. You could hardly see my skin through all the blood.

"Y/N?"

"Don't come in,"I choked out, letting the knife clank to the floor.

"Are you okay?"

"Go away,"was all I could get out as I shoved it as far under my bed as possible. Frantically tugging my sleeves up, I was shaking as the blood dripped through. Wiping my eyes, I desperately looked around for something to fix it. Something to cover the disaster.

"Are you okay-"

"Leave me alone!"I demanded, my voice unsteady and unsure.

"What's happeni-"

"Leave!"I screamed louder, attempting to wipe my sleeves against my pants only to get the stain to spread. Sitting back on my bed, I kept pathetically continuing the act anyways, running out of options.

"I'm coming in-"

"No!"

Ignoring my protests, he opened my door to see me sitting there, my feet over the edge of the bed and my long sleeves stained with blood. As he just stood there in shock the door closed on his own behind him, leaving us there with nothing but my self destruction.

"I-I can't-"

"What is wrong with you?"He asked slowly, the situation seeming to sink in.

"I-I don't-"

"No seriously? What is wrong with you? You're supposed to be out there, with everyone? How are you in here? How?"

"I didn't mean-I'm sor-"

"No! How could you?! I have asked if you are okay! I have been worried about you, and you always say you're fine! Every! Damn! Time!"

With the tears streaking my face, I unconsciously dug my nails into the little bit of my exposed skin, ripping into the cuts.

"You've said you're okay! You said everything was fine but you're in here doing this! For how long?! How bloody long?!"

With sobs leaving the back of my throat, my nails dug deeper into my fresh wound as I started shaking. This wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't.

"Do you think this is fine?! Do you think this is okay?! Do you think it's fine to sit in the dark and cut yourself?! Do you?!"

Frantically shaking my head, I cried harder as I sputtered out weak apologies. Despite this I seemed physically incapable of pulling my nails from my cuts. I just clawed at myself as all the emotions hit me like a tidal wave.

"I'm sorry, love,"He said gently, everything about him suddenly seeming soft. Mumbling incoherent things, I buried my face in my hands. "It's okay. It's okay,"He coaxed, sitting in front of me. Cautiously taking my hands, he pulled them away from him and into his.

"I'm sorry,"I got out.

"It's okay. I promise. I'm not really mad at you. I just didn't expect this. I didn't know you were struggling this badly."

"I'm sorry,"I repeated, physically incapable of saying anything else.

"I'm not angry. I just didn't know you were doing this. I didn't know you were feeling this bad, and I panicked. I love you. I really do,"He whispered.

"I didn't know what else to do. Every part of me feels wrong. Something inside of me is broken, Newt. Truly broken,"I admitted through shaky breaths.

"You aren't broken, Y/N. You're hurting, but you aren't broken. You are full of good. You're full of amazing things, and I'm sorry you can't see that. I'm sorry you thought this was your only way to feel okay,"He whispered, lacing his fingers through mine.

"I don't want to be this way. I don't, but it seems to be all I know. In only a few months, this became everything that I am,"I admitted.

"It isn't all you are though. Just because you're doing something you shouldn't, just because you found something negative and mistook it for coping, doesn't mean it's everything that you are. You are an incredible human who has done nothing but make this place better. There's a reason Chuck was so excited to hang out with you tonight. There's a reason Minho likes to stop and say hi to you before he leaves. There's a reason I love you. You're brilliant, and you deserve better than what you're giving yourself,"He whispered, cupping my face. Wiping my tears away, he looked at me with nothing less than sympathy, undeniable pain, and pure love.

"I never thought it would get this far,"I murmured.

"I'm sure you didn't. That doesn't mean we won't figure it out though,"He coaxed, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"Every part of me is exhausted. I'm just so drained,"I admitted. Still wiping my tears, he nodded in understanding.

"Then, we'll sleep it off right now. We're gonna go to sleep, I'm gonna hold you, and we'll figure it all out in the morning. Okay?"

"Yes. Okay,"I agreed.

With me still in his arms, we laid down. Pulling my sleeve up, he took my one without the new injuries and pressed his lips to my scars. Shutting my eyes, I let the tears fall down my face as he kissed the ruined parts of me.

"I'll love you forever. I've loved you for so long, and I love you now. No matter how you may see yourself, I will always see you as the most amazing person, the kindest human, and the most beautiful girl in the world,"He whispered.

Cuddling up as close as I could without closing my arms, I rested my head on his chest. Kissing my temple, he whispered sweet nothings until I dozed off.

♡ - - - ♡

When I woke up the next morning it was in Newt's arms. He had still been carefully holding me. He had been wide awake, looking after me.

We left before anyone could see. He snuck me into the Med-hut so he could fix me up. He wiped my cuts, old and new. He kissed my skin and told me it would be okay. He disinfected my arms and wrapped them in bandages.

The thing that stuck out most was that he had given me his bracelets. He told me that whenever I thought I needed to hurt myself but couldn't find him, to look at these and remember that I will never be alone. He made sure they would stay.

He understandably hadn't left me alone today. He was by my side, making sure I wasn't a current danger to myself. He didn't do anything big which only made me more grateful for him. He kept a subtle eye on me, smiling whenever he met my gaze, holding my hand when he was able to, and whispering reassuring words in my ear.

Alby needed him for a moment. Something about a Second-in-command duty.

"Will you be okay for a minute, love?"He checked.

"I will,"I promised.

"Okay. I'll be back soon,"He promised, kissing my temple before going to see what he needed.

Getting back to planting the seeds, I made sure the dirt was firmly packed.

"It seems like he's just obsessed with you today,"Someone drew out. Looking up, I saw James. He wasn't known for kind words so needless to say him speaking to me randomly was a red flag.

"He's just being loving,"I said quickly, about to chew the inside of my cheek before catching myself. Looking at the bracelets, I smiled for a second.

"His bracelets, huh?"

"Yep. They were just a gift,"I muttered, standing up so that he was no longer towering over me.

"Really? Let me see?"

"No!"I said quickly as he grabbed my wrist. Wincing at the contact his hand made, I held it to my chest as a sound of pain left my mouth. While it was only for a second, it was enough for him to notice. That and I had almost yelled, catching some nearby bystanders attention.

"Oh, I get it,"He smirked.

"Leave me alone,"I demanded.

"He wants to make sure you don't hurt yourself, doesn't he?"He guessed, trying to pull the bracelet off again. Keeping my arms pressed to my sides, I repeated for him to just leave me alone as I willed myself not to cry in front of everyone. I can't. I won't.

"Awe. You gonna go hurt yourself again?"

"What do you think you're doing?"a familiar and now cold voice asked. Looking back, I saw Newt walking up before standing beside me, his eyes narrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

"Chill. I was just joking,"He defended, his hands in his air.

"No. That was you being a prick. Nothing more, nothing less,"He corrected.

"But-"

"Come with me. Now,"He demanded, his voice calm yet furious.

"I didn't-"

"Now,"He repeated even firmer. Realizing there was no way out of it, he followed Newt past the gardens. Looking back, he made sure he was still going. When he was, he led him in front of the pit. "In, now,"He commanded, opening one of them and gesturing him inside.

"But-"

"Did I say it was up for debate? Get inside. Right. Now,"He repeated.

Once again realizing he couldn't actually get out of punishment, he hopped inside, his head down and face hidden in shame. The second he hit the ground he slammed it shut and tied it tighter than I think it's ever been. Even from here, I could see his jaw clenched.

When he was sure it was alright he walked away, his head held high. Standing beside me again, he grabbed my hand as if nothing happened.

"Come on. Let's go on lunch,"He suggested. Nodding my head, I intertwined our fingers as I kept myself pressed against him, ignoring the way my face heated up.

Heading over to the kitchen, he asked Fry if we could get our food early. With a smile and no questions, he served us, giving a polite nod.

Taking both the bowls, he led me a little bit into the Deadheads. By now everyone was back to their previous activities, not wanting to pry on whatever that was.

Sitting beside him, I rested my head on his shoulder as he handed me my bowl. Knowing that all I wanted right now was silence and his company, he let us do nothing but eat and savor the others presence, exactly the way I needed.

[haespoir]

dive into you: mkl.

cave me in, part two!

⨯ pairing: plug!mark x reader

⨯ word count: 1.7k 

⨯ summary: mark makes it clear that he wants more than being just your plug. he won't stop until you're his.

⨯ warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), more suggestive content... uh that is it i believe

⨯ playlist: better, khalid / snooze, sza / mmmh, kai  

⨯ extra content: part one

⨯ a/n: okay... i tried to work on my writing a bit here, but i'm not sure how i feel about it? i said i would work on describing the setting more but it slipped my mind... so next thing i post.. I SWEAR I WILL WORK ON IT!! anyways, ty @markonthemoon for dealing with my brainrot surrounding plug!mark :3 any feedback is very appreciated ♡

. . .

The next morning you wake up on a bare chest. For a moment, you feel the panic begin to bubble in your chest. Now, you weren’t a prude or anything, but one-night stands were just not something that you were into. Before you can fully panic, you feel the person below you stir awake. 

“Good morning.” Mark’s raspy voice goes straight to your heart. It was something that you wouldn’t mind hearing every morning. It was so different from his regular speaking voice; you can feel yourself falling into him more and more. It doesn’t help that the morning sun is looking down on the two of you; it feels so intimate. 

“Morning,” you mumble, opting to bury your face in his neck. You might just explode on the spot if you made eye contact with him. However, this causes Mark to let out a groan, and it’s one that you can feel in his chest. Unknown to you, the male had been awake far longer than you had. Now, Mark was no hopeless romantic, but he swore that night with you had changed him. Maybe it was just the weed in his system. He wasn’t sure. 

It was like you were a sweet, comforting rain that he had accumulated over time. You drenched him wave after wave until he felt like he was drowning until he felt that he couldn’t handle it anymore. But oddly enough, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t want to fight it. Without hesitation, he willingly dives into you. 

His peaceful morning was enough proof that it wasn’t just a one-time thing–– not to him. With you in his arms, all his worries felt far away. There was nothing that felt better than waking up like this. Though there was one thing that seemed to gnaw at his mind… Did you share this sentiment? 

After weeks of knowing you, Mark realized that you weren’t much of a smoker at all. It was almost confusing. The small containers of weed on your desk were enough proof; they were all things you had bought from him, and while he found the way you wrote each strain and the date it was purchased endearing, he couldn’t understand why you hadn’t smoked it. You definitely smoked; the number of times he tasted you on the shared blunt the night before was proof of that. You would rather die than admit that many of the times you bought from Mark were purely due to attraction, not because you actually needed anything. 

“I actually don’t smoke a lot,” you had said the night before. “I prefer edibles. I just keep that for special occasions with friends.” Is that what the hook-up was? A special occasion with a friend? That thought tormented Mark. There was no way that he was going to let you slip through his fingers now that he had you. You weren’t going to be able to escape him. 

Even after the awkward breakfast the two of you shared in your quiet apartment, Mark wasn’t scared. In fact, he was more bold. There were so many nights where you found yourself sitting in his passenger seat, his hand on your thigh as he drove around aimlessly. So many nights where he just held you in the dark, the smell of weed permeating your clothes when he dropped you off in the morning. 

It wasn’t just the weed that seemed to linger on your clothes either. Mark’s cologne was always stuck on you. So much so, that when Haechan had seen you one day for lunch, he had scrunched his nose at the sight of you. 

“You smell like Mark,” he had said, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Making moves on the weed man, are you?” 

You had pretended to be wounded at his words, a cheeky grin on your lips. “This is what you wanted, no?” As much as Haechan wanted to wipe that annoying grin off your face, he knew you were right. He couldn’t count how many times Mark had asked him about you. The poor man was obsessed with you, and Haechan just couldn’t stand the way you both seemed set on ignoring your feelings. So he made sure to plant small ideas in Mark’s mind. 

“Didn’t they say they liked marshmallows?” 

So that’s where those extra marshmallow treats came from. 

“I hear they’re stressed, maybe you should go check on them.” 

Mark was texting you instantly, asking if you wanted to try a new strain with him. It also seemed that someone was lowering the price of your edibles without you knowing. 

Now, the gummy bear idea was one entirely of his own. And he felt proud of that. Though he would never admit to you that he also enjoyed the clear gummy bears. But he would never eat a clear gummy bear if it meant he could see that adorable smile on your face. 

And it seemed Haechan’s hints and pushing seemed to work because almost a month later you show up to a party, Mark following closely behind. It was like a moth to a flame; wherever you went, Mark was not far behind. Haechan wasn’t prepared to see the way he hovered around you; it made him want to barf. A pair of lovesick fools, that’s what he had called the two of you. 

He wasn’t wrong. While the two of you weren’t necessarily private with the relationship you had going on, it didn’t mean you were actively showing each other off. This is why it comes as a shock to many people to see Mark basically wrapped around your finger.  

“Is this what you meant by hard launch?” His question has you rolling your eyes. The male had spent at least 30 minutes before you had walked into the house marking up your neck in his car. The way you had proudly displayed the love bites on your neck made him swell with pride. You were his, even without the labels. 

“That’s for social media,” you say, a small laugh slipping past your lips when he pouts. “Should I post a picture of you sucking on my neck like a leech on Instagram? Since you want a hard launch?” 

This only makes him pout even more, his arms wrapping around your waist. Without warning, he’s nipping at the previous marks he made on your throat. “If it means more PDA, I’m not complaining.” 

“You’re a dork,” you say, pulling away to cup his cheeks. “There’s never been a limit on the PDA.” To prove your point, you press your lips to his, ignoring the way the few people around you cheer the two of you on. Almost instantly, Mark reacts to your kiss. He’s pulling you closer; it was like close wasn’t close enough for him. It never was, and you’d have to agree. 

When you finally separate, it’s like he’s taken all the air out of your lungs. You’re trying to catch your breath when he presses his forehead against yours, his whisper ghosting over your lips. “God, I am so into you. It’s driving me crazy.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble. But you weren’t sorry at all, you both knew this. 

He chuckles at your words, stealing a quick kiss. “Can we get out of here? Please, puppy?”

You hated that the nickname had stuck; it was a nickname that sent butterflies straight to your stomach, especially when he looked as delicious as he did now. “We can do whatever you want, my love.” 

Mark swears he’s dizzy with how much he wants you, and he’s someone who doesn’t need to be told anything twice. The two of you quickly disappear from the party, throwing half-hearted goodbyes at your friends before you guys slip away into the night. 

You find yourself in the back of Mark’s car, smoke filling the spaces between the two of you. Even if the space was a bit cramped, nothing could stop Mark from pulling you into his lap. He loved holding you there. His fingers would drift, tickling your waist every now and then. He was such an affectionate person. If anything, you were the one going crazy. 

But even with the affection, you found yourself scared. Riding the high, you decide there’s no better time to get answers out of Mark. Anything to settle your racing heart. 

“Is there anyone else you’re with?” Your question is barely audible, the fear of his answer weighing heavily on you. It felt ridiculous to ask, knowing that there was realistically no time for Mark to be seeing anyone else. But you had to be sure, just to get rid of those small voices. 

“I’m just with you right now,” he says, reassuringly squeezing your waist. “It’s always just been you.” 

This makes your heart flutter, and you can feel the warmth decorating your cheeks. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mark. 

“God, you look so good right now,” he groans. “I could devour you.” 

“Oh yeah?” You raise a brow at his statement, taking the chance to tease him. “I think I would look even better under you.” 

Mark swears you can’t be real. There’s no way that you’re real. Surely you are just some figment of his imagination. No one was this perfect. But even Mark has to show a bit of self-restraint every now and then. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no room for that back here,” he replies. And while you were teasing, you know that Mark is serious with the way he’s looking at you. 

“We can always go back to my place.” You’re teasing him again. It’s going to be the end of him, especially with the way that you twirl his hair around your finger. And when you tug on his hair? Mark swears any rational thought he has is gone. 

Removing you from his lap hurts, and the drive back to your place is even more painful. For once, your hand is on his thigh. You’re pinching and squeezing him; it’s nearly impossible for him to stay focused. When you guys get to your place, there are nearly no words spoken as you two blindly navigate your apartment. You were too caught up in each other; you could worry about the clothes you leave littering the floor later. 

And when you wake up in the morning, your ear pressed against Mark’s bare chest once again, you swear there’s nothing better than this. 

[grandlinedreams]

For my 100 followers milestone, I give you this!! Buckle up this sucker is 3.4k lmao

[heads up!: grim reaper!Law, slow burn, angst, fluff]

The day Law meets you, it's because you almost die. 

It's a cold winter day, the sun pale and bright against the gray of sky ㅡ and the iced over pond is too much of a temptation to ignore.

You're wearing a heavy coat, one that helps keep the bitter chill from your skin save for your lips and nose ㅡ how very ironic that it's your coat that almost kills you. 

Places like this are always buzzing with the energy of potential tragedy ㅡ even with the watchful eye of parents and loved ones, misfortune still has a way of happening.

The ice, for one, is far too thin to bear the weight of so many feet, made thinner in spots for what meager warmth the sun does provide.

It's one of those spots that you happen upon, located on the other end of the pond, away from your friends. The ice doesn't so much crack as dissolve, frigid water up to your knee as your balance is lost and sends you into the water entirely.

Dark and cold, water soaks your clothing quickly ㅡ including the heavy winter coat you've got around you. It drags you down,  thrashing made harder for the frozen ache of your muscles ㅡ and the cloud of bubbles that explode from your mouth as your lungs burn. 

And then there's a hand snagging into the back of your coat and hauling you up, not unlike a housecat ㅡ and you're on the frosty bank, coughing blindly until you vomit foamy pond water into the mud. 

"You shouldn't play around places like this," an unfamiliar voice tells you, striking you hard between the shoulder blades to elicit another wave of pond water and watery-eyed hacking. "You could die."

You gasp raggedly, clawing at the ground to work yourself further from the embankment, then focus on your rescuer. All you can make out is a shock of dark hair and golden eyes ㅡ and then your name, being shouted with increasing alarm. 

"You were lucky," the stranger says. "Next time, it won't be like that." 

By the time your friends have made it to you and have called for an ambulance, the stranger has vanished ㅡ leaving you with nothing but the frosty air and a brush with death.

 ㅡ

Law isn't sure why he'd saved you that winter day. He can fall back on the fact it hadn't been your time, but that doesn't account for the fact that now, he's watching you.

Call it curiosity or perhaps morbid fascination, there's a pull that drives Law towards you. It shouldn't interfere with his work, of course, because nothing ever does ㅡ but then suddenly, you do. 

He doesn't know if saving you has allowed something of a supernatural ability to rub off on you where you're aware of his presence ㅡ but the knack that you have for stepping in and messing with the intended order of things is both alarming and annoying. 

The older lady he'd been sent to collect from an unattended heart attack? Somehow, you manage to call an ambulance in time and save her life after she collapses in the middle of an aisle in the grocery store.

Then there's the guy you save from an unfortunate end via the business end of a knife following an altercation at a bar ㅡ tempers diffused and the proper authorities called, he scowls as another of his intended targets walks away. 

There are two or three more after that ㅡ and each time, he swears that you spot him, staring at him with a tiny, self-satisfied smile that drives him crazy.

He doesn't have time for this, damn it. (He actually does, but there are things that have to run on a schedule ㅡ and you're messing with the natural order.)

He needs to get rid of you. 

Cruel? Yes, especially given the fact that he's already saved you once ㅡ but he can't just let you run amok like this. He knows what will happen if he does ㅡ they'll send someone else to handle you, and he doesn't want that. 

So he ends up following you at a distance as you make your way home. Again, he thinks himself inconspicuous enough to not warrant attention ㅡ but by the third time that you turn around, he can tell that you've spotted him.

"If you're trying to stalk me, you're terrible at it. Come on out, I'm unarmed."

"I'm not trying to stalk you," he says flatly, "and telling someone that is hardly a good idea. Are you trying to get killed?"

Ironic, coming from him. 

There's that smile of yours, the one that makes Law think you're laughing at him. "Isn't that why you're here?"

He blinks. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

You roll your eyes. "I saw you, that day I almost drowned." You shift to tug your sleeve up, exposing your arm. "You left me with a souvenir."

The skin of your forearm is gnarled like the scar tissue of a burn, several shades darker than the rest ㅡ and in the shape of a hand. You pull your sleeve down. "There's one on my back, too. But ever since that day, I've been able to see the border between life and death." Your eyes lock with his. "And you."

This is bad. Very bad. Though he'd assumed you were able to see him, having you confirm it only makes this situation so much worse. If the others find out about this ㅡ 

A couple of things happen in rapid succession. The light turns green as you step off of the sidewalk onto the crossway, a car whips around the corner on a straight trajectory towards you ㅡ and Law snags his hand into the back of your shirt and yanks you back as the car breezes past where you'd just been standing. 

And for the second time, Law saves your life. 

                                ㅡ

You invite death into your apartment. 

It's a strange sentence to be sure, but death is far less imposing when it takes the shape of a man who wears a hat modeled after a snow leopard. 

"Would you like something to drink?" You're nothing if not polite, though you tip your head as you eye Law with no small amount of amusement. "Or do you need things like that?"

Law is less amused than you, golden eyes sharp as he stares. "We need to talk. This isn't a matter to be taken lightly." 

"Of course not," you say, and he watches as you pull a pitcher of water from the fridge and pour a glass, then pour a second. "Serious talk makes me thirsty, though."

Law takes the glass that you offer him, but he doesn't drink from it as he watches you cross the room to seat yourself in a battered, well-loved ottoman. He waits a moment, then seats himself on the couch when you raise an eyebrow.

"Let me get the obvious out of the way," he begins, "you shouldn't be able to see me."

You stare. "I thought we made that clear from this," you say, gesturing to your arm. When his gaze lingers, you shrug. "It doesn't hurt, if that's what you're wondering."

"I wasn't."

Your lips curve against your water glass. "You're so kind." His eyes narrow, and you sigh. "Okay, so I shouldn't be able to see you. What else should I know?"

"That what you're doing is dangerous."

You look away. "I don't know what you mean."

Law scowls. "Don't play stupid with me. You know that you're messing with the natural order of things, don't you?"

The casual way that you shrug annoys Law further. "I think everyone deserves a second chance, don't you?" 

He glares. "No. And if they did, you already used your second chance. What would you call that narrow miss with the car?"

You watch him, the upward curve of your lips that he hates so much. "I call that luck," you answer. 

ㅡ 

Corazon is waiting for him outside your apartment. He towers, a contradiction for the makeup he wears and the shroud of feathers, the lazy curl of smoke from a cigarette between his lips. (He enjoys smoking while in human form. Law has never understood, but he doesn't question it.)

"There you are." Cora turns towards him as he approaches, his eyes flicking to the apartment behind him. "Never thought you'd be one toㅡ"

"It's not like that," Law counters before Cora can make some dumb insinuation. He debates for a moment before he sighs as Cora raises an eyebrow in question.

"Then what is it like? You never interact with humans."

Law's teeth grit. This is all your fault. If you'd stop getting in his way, if he'd just let you drown ㅡ he huffs, kicking at a loose chunk of pavement before he looks up at Cora. "Fine. I'll tell you."

Whatever Cora had been expecting, what Law tells him is far from it by the way the older reaper's eyes widen. And then he laughs. Long and loud until he's doubled over, and Law scowls.

"I don't see what's so funny, Cora."

"All of that is," Cora wheezes, swinging a hand to your apartment before he wipes mirth-born tears from his eyes. "I never thought I'd see the day you had a crush on a human."

"I do not have a crush." Cora gives him a knowing look that only pisses Law off further as his eyes flash.

"Sure you don't," Cora humors him, though it's clear the older reaper doesn't believe him. Calmed down, he sucks on the cigarette, the end of it flaring before he exhales a long stream of smoke. "I just hope you know what you're doing."

This time there's some warning to Cora's tone, reminding Law that he can't get into deep, reminding him of what and who he is.

"I do."

                                 ㅡ 

Law has no idea what he's doing. 

"Have you ever been to a bar?" You're laughing at him again with that smile of yours, head propped on your arm as you drum a tempo on the table with your other hand.

Around you there's nothing but noise ㅡ tinny music playing from speakers set in the corners of the rafters, televisions broadcasting various sports ㅡ and of course, drunk people. 

"No," Law finally answers, studying the din around him with no small amount of annoyance, "I haven't." 

This time you laugh outright, then take a sip of your drink ㅡ and Law does his best not to follow the work of your throat as you swallow. "Alright then, what does death do for fun?"

There are a thousand things Law could tell you. That he's not the only reaper around, that he'd been warned not to do things like this with someone like you. That he should've let you die the several chances he's had to make it happen.

He doesn't. Instead, he lets his eyes linger on your face, trace your features, tread the dangerous water of interest as he has the last few weeks. 

"I don't know," he answers, "but it definitely isn't this."

ㅡ

There are so many ways that Law can kill you. They're everywhere that he looks, and yet he can't bring himself to do it. Instead, he lets you chatter away, lips curving despite himself.

Maybe you're not quite as annoying as he'd thought ㅡ but as his eyes drift to the plush of your lips before darting away, his brow furrows.  Not just annoying ㅡ you're dangerous.

Dangerous because you've been touched by death, dangerous because you get in his way, dangerous because all he wants is to kiss you.

It's your abrupt stop that makes Law almost collide with you and he takes a step back, lips parting to ask what the problem is ㅡ and then he stops.

"Cora," he says, feels your eyes on him as he stares at the man a few feet away from you both. 

"What a nice little jaunt," Cora says, head tilting as he watches the way you reach for Law's hand ㅡ and the way Law doesn't stop you despite the danger of it. "I think we need to have a talk. All three of us."

ㅡ 

Corazon "Cora" is a reaper.

You know that much ㅡ you can see it, the dark shroud that silhouettes him like it does with Law. 

As for what he's doing here, that remains a mystery to you. But from the way Law tenses as Cora talks to him, you can guess that it probably isn't good.

You stand nearby idly, pretending that you can't hear your own name being tossed around, mostly from Law who corrects Cora's careless usage of "that human". You have a horrible feeling that Law's getting into trouble for the last few weeks, and for before, when he'd saved you.

Why had he? Surely he hadn't had to ㅡ he could have let you drown and that be it. None of this. 

Law finally approaches you, and you watch him carefully, trying to glean what their conversation had been about by the look on his face. But his expression is carefully blank, unreadable as he reaches you. "What did he say?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about," he answers, and your eyes narrow before you pull away from him and dart towards Cora. "[Name]!"

"What did you say to him?" You demand and Cora blinks, studying you for a moment. "You guys were talking for a while, so spit it out. What did you say?"

He doesn't have to answer you. Cora knows that, that he owes you absolutely nothing ㅡ but his eyes flick to Law, who's staring at you. This is for your own good, kid. 

"I told him what would happen if he kept this up with you." He pauses to light a cigarette, and you watch the little flame waver.

"And what exactly would happen?"

Cora sighs. "If the higher ups found out about it, they'd strip him of his powers."

Your gaze doesn't waver, boring holes into him. He sort of understands Law's fascination with you ㅡ even without the touch of death, you're an odd one. "And without his powers?"

Smoke curls towards the sky, ghostly tendrils that curl before they disappear. "He'd cease to exist. Reapers are nothing without their powers."

You look back to Law, who's watching you ㅡ and your brow furrows. He wants to say this is nothing? "Is this because of me?"

Cora could lie, but he doesn't. "Yes."

Your fingers curl into fists, aware of the shiny skin of your forearm, the patch between your shoulder blades. "What if he killed me?"

"He won't. I already suggested that."

Your eyes lock with Cora's, unwavering. "What if a different reaper did?"

ㅡ 

Law doesn't like that you're talking to Cora. He doesn't like that the other reaper won't leave and let him face the repercussions of his actions as he wants to. He knows Cora has told you, can see it in the tension of your body, the way you look at him. 

When you return, Law knows something is wrong. "What did you talk about?"

Instead of answering, you wind your arms around him, pressing into him. The pressure should be comforting, but Law tenses, trying to squirm out of your grip. "[Name], answer me."

"Cora told me the truth." He stills. "Were you really just going to keep me in the dark about it?" He feels your hands fist at his back. "You're an idiot."

He knows that. He doesn't care. "What's done is done," he answers. "I'm simply facing the consequences."

"Stupid." You pull away from him and blink, and he reaches to swipe his thumb beneath your eyes. 

"Crying? Really?"

You pull away completely, scrubbing at your eyes. He expects you to call him an idiot again, demand to go home, to talk about what's next ㅡ but you don't. Instead, you exhale slowly. "I'm sorry."

Law blinks, brow furrowing. "About what?"

"This," you sweep your arm out. "You should be in trouble because of me." He wants to protest that he did it of his own volition, that you hadn't forced his hand in any of it ㅡ and then with a jolt, he realizes that Cora hasn't left.

"[Name]," Law starts, "what did you do?"

"I'm cleaning up my mess," you say firmly, "I'm not going to let you get your powers stripped because of me. So Cora and I made a deal." 

Law doesn't have to ask what kind of deal it was, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. His eyes narrow, anger and hurt clashing. "So dying is an easier solution?"

"It is," you tell him, rigid in your resolve. "It's what should have happened in the first place, Law." 

He hates this. Hates that this is how it ends, that you look so at peace with your decision. You approach him again, reaching to stroke his cheek ㅡ and he leans into your touch. "Don't be sad," you tell him, "I'm annoying, remember?"

His eyes close. "No you're not."

You huff a soft laugh. "See, you're a softie after all." You pull away, and his cheek feels colder than it ever has. "Maybe we'll meet again someday. Do this the right way."

The likelihood of that is slim, next to nothing ㅡ but Law lets himself indulge in the idea of it anyway. "Yeah," he answers, "maybe."

ㅡ

Law doesn't get to see you go.

You'd made it clear that you didn't want him to see, didn't want him to watch you die. "You spent too much time making sure I didn't," you tell him, "feels like it'd be a copout if you did it again."

He can't argue that, because he knows he would. You both do. That he'd defy his orders over and over, let you live a little longer again and again.

Maybe he shouldn't have saved you from drowning in that pond. (He's glad he did.)

Law has seen a thousand and thousands mortals die and will see thousands and thousands more, but yours is the one that actually hurts. 

Cora warned him. He warned Law, and he didn't listen ㅡ and now he's paying for it. But it'd been you who'd chosen to leave him ㅡ even though it'd been to protect him. 

Idiot, he thinks, but it lacks any bite. Much as he loathes it because it's a very human emotion, he misses you. 

(Not like he'd ever admit it.) 

"Law." He looks up to find Cora approaching, a look on his face that automatically makes him wary. "I have a gift for you."

Law's eyes narrow. "I don't want it."

Cora's head tilts, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Are you sure? Because I'm sure you'll like this one."

There's someone standing beside Cora. The dark robes draped around them says that it's a new reaper ㅡ and Law resists the urge to roll his eyes. Cora's been oddly insistent that he take on a protege ㅡ perhaps he's not been as adept at hiding how your death affected him as he thinks he's been. 

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Cora says, patting the new reaper on the shoulder before he heads back the way he'd come. Law sighs, then shifts his attention to the newbie. 

"First off, you don't need the hood up. It's a dumb stereotype." He looks away, mentally questioning if he has the energy for someone to hang off his every word.

There's a soft laugh, strangely familiar ㅡ and then an even more familiar voice. "And here I thought it gave me a mysterious charm."

Law freezes, then turns as the newbie yanks down the hood. It's you. For a second, Law thinks he's hallucinating ㅡ but you're smiling that frustrating, irritating, beautiful smile of yours.

"Surprise," you say, rocking on your heels. "This was part of the deal that Cora and I made."

"You're a reaper too," he says, and you nod before you hold your arms out and do a small spin, making the robes flare.

"What do you think? I think it suits me." Law approaches, grabs a fistful of fabric and pulls ㅡ and finally, finally, gets to kiss you the way he wants to. 

You blink dazedly when he pulls away, and he smirks. "You said that maybe we could do this the right way someday," he tells you. "I intend to hold you to that."

You smile. "Fine by me."

[krysissy]

Daily reminder for the sonadow fans that this is a thing.

I didn't even got to say nothing. It explains itself, the month of Tanabata? The seperation of two lovers? The moon and it's shadow? That's romantic as fuck ngl. They are symbolizing that Shadow is this astronomical show that is Sonic's favourite. And I think I might as well explode. I actually can't believe that the Sonic Channel actually WROTE this.

THIS IS SAID PICTURE. HE'S NOT LOOKING BUT GAZING (yes they specifically used gazing and not looking which adds more to the romantic flavour 💀) AT THE MOON WHICH IN THIS STORY IS SYMBOLIZING SONIC.

Oh my god it's reciprocated.

"When explaining the relationship between Sonic and Shadow in the bottom description after the story, the title of the section is called: "A rare relationship that can enter one's heart." (In Japanese: 懐に入って来られる稀有（けう）な関係) The meaning of this phrase in Japanese is to describe a relationship that is rare and special that goes beyond superficial interactions and instead, reaches a deep emotional level between the two parties. In Japanese, the term "懐" (futoko) refers to the heart or inner most feelings of a person. It represents a sense of trust and intimacy. Along with this, the word "懐" can also be used to describe a pocket used when wearing kimonos that holds important valuables such as wallets or other important artifacts. When using this phrase, it can literally mean that someone is entering someone's heart/pocket where important artifacts go. The phrase indicates that someone is entering someone's heart, which can also indicate someone saying that they like a person because they are letting them enter the deepest and more intimate parts of their heart. In this case, it would mean that Sonic is entering Shadow's heart since later in the description while using the same term "懐," it mentions how Sonic is the only one that can say something that enters Shadow's heart.

(In Japanese: 実際、シャドウにここまで懐深く入って何かを言えて、それが心に届く（届かないことも多いですが）のは、ソニックくらいではないでしょうか。) This indicates that Shadow likes Sonic in a special and rare way that is on an intimate, trusting and deep emotional level since he at times allows Sonic to enter his heart. It also tells how Shadow sees his relationship with Sonic as rare and special on a deep emotional level that is not superficial and that he cares about him despite his Tsundere personality. This can further be seen in the Sonic Pic image of Shadow looking at the moon (Sonic) with fondness that was released later. [The phrase using this term "懐" is not used in any other description of relationship from the 2021 calendar stories, including his friends: Tails, Knuckles and Amy Rose.]"

Holy shit there's no way they actually wrote all that. They trust each other on a deep, emotional, intimate level. And I think I might just die.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hello! I was wondering (totally okay if not) if I could request a quackity x reader where there playing minwcraft or smth with a few other people and its just like moments of them annoying eachother (as a way of love if that makes sense)

Thank you 💜💜

AH YES OF COURSEEE!! ; did my best w this one, had to quote a lot of vines for this bc I'm not naturally funny and it made sense in a way

QUACKITY ; vinecraft

summary ; annoying each other while playing minecraft with some friends

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 711

masterlist

You and Alex were playing on a Minecraft survival world with Bad and Niki. It wasn't a role-play SMP or anything, just a simple survival world with the Better Minecraft mod.

"Hurricane Katrina? More like Hurricane Tortilla!"

y/u/n was shot by a skeleton

"Y/n did you just willingly give yourself up to those skeletons?" Quackity laughs

"in my defense, they all have chainmail and gold armour, and I have an unbreaking one iron sword and a dream"

"Language! Stop talking about that!" Bad yells

"Yeah, stop talking about pussies, Quackity!"

"Y/n!" Bad and Quackity both exclaim in different tones while Niki laughs

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FORRRR?" Quackity yells, referring to the Vine as he almost breaks his voice a bit

"I'm waiting for those creepers to kill you," you answer, clicking your mouse to swing your hand as to point behind his character

"OH MY GOD NO-"

quackity was exploded by a creeper

"MY SHIT! Y/N, NIKI, GET IT PLEASE, I HAD AN AWESOME DIAMOND HELMET"

"It's Wednesday my dudes-"

"Shut the fuck up I'm fighting a warden, I can't do this right now, Alex!"

"I wanted to be a cowboyyyy baybyyyy" quackity speaks with a shit southern accent

"please stop fucking quoting that" you snicker, "I'm on the edge of this fuckin thing, if I fall I'll die and lose the teleporting thing and your shit"

"No off topic questions. because I don't want to. no. no. you've been stopped"

"PLEASE, I JUST WANNA MAKE THE PENIS, STOP DESTROYING IT Y/N/N"

quackity keeps trying to shoot you off the ledge of the mountain where you were trying to build the base on the side of

"I said whoever keeps shooting me, your moms a hoe!"

"language!"

"you're a hoe, motherfucker!"

"quackity, watch out!"

quackity was exploded by a creeper

"AGAIN!?"

yknow that vine of that kid playing simple piano notes and the other kid getting down to it? that's like the halftime show of the stream

quackitys playing guitar and you're busting it down in game next to niki who can't stop laughing, and bad is totally silent because of all the foul language

I mean the song slapped

then quackity got absolutely sniped by a skeleton while he was on two hearts

"What the fuck is up Kyle? no, what did you say? what the fuck, dude? step the fuck up kyle!"

quackity gets all up close with the mic to literally inhale it, "y/n i love you but my names not Kyle"

"WHATRE THOSE???"

"They are my crocs."

"Actually why do you own crocs? red flag, we're breaking up and I'm dating niki now"

"You move on quickly" quackity mumbles and rolls his eyes

nicki smiles before speaking, "because I'm better than you, quackity"

"Road work ahead? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does"

"Y/n you've spent 85% of this stream quoting Vines"

"Yeah I know, it's because I hate you"

"Wait what?"

when quackity brings up how he lived in the southern hemisphere and talks about living in Mexico, he pauses to breathe and you take the opportunity while you have it

"country boy I love youuuuuuuu. ah"

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"BAHAHHAH"

"I can't be here anymore"

we've all seen the "Hey ron" "Hey billy" meme I think

you'll break into the base through the ceiling to get back in because you're working on a tunnel trailing through the inside of the cliff up to the top as the entrance

"Hey quackity" you say as you land next to quackity trying to sort through chests

"Hey y/n"

you scream as quackity sits down with some pizza in the middle of stream

he screams, "stop, you almost made me drop my pizza!"

yk that meme w the kid w the broomstick doing some anime pose battle shit? here's that one

you'll be swinging your sword around and spamming emotes "don't fuck with me! I have the power of God and anime on my side! AHHHH"

"who gave you the right to speak? You're on trial for breaking Bad's space bar!" Quackity exclaims

"I got it working again!!"

"let's do the fork in the garbage disposal!"

cue spamming emotes and lagging your games til they crash 💀💀💀

"love yourself! accept yourself!"

you became a positivity priest while quackity became a drug dealer

really splitting this world into two sides now LMFAO

[wings-of-flying]

thinking about chip and death now. because he's nineteen. a baby. and all his life, or at least since the hole in the sea, he's been basing his entire personality off the people around him. arlin and price, however inadvertently, turned him into chip the bastard. jay and gillion influenced him to be more caring, so did ollie. seeing lizzie makes him want to become a great captain, a great leader, making those long speeches and looking out for his crew. he's fragments of the people he's surrounded himself with

if he died now, would there have been a chip? a true chip? has there ever been a chip? gillion and jay have things that separate them from the people they're around, things not directly influenced by their past and more just elements of who they are. what does chip have? even now, what does he have that is truly his own? jay has her tinkering. gill sketches sea creatures. chip's pranks are from arlin. you could argue for his fire magic, but even that - or at least the awakening of that - was influenced by gillion. his name is a remnant of his childhood on the midnight rose

i just. i'm so utterly insane about him because even his clothes. it's like a combination of lizzie's original outfit and price's, which i could make a whole other post about. he's so young, he's still basing himself around other people even if it's having a positive effect now. he's a frankenstein already, not quite alive as himself. he had a heart but it beat with the life of others

he's haunted with the spirits and souls of people he's admired. how much of him is actually him and how much is someone else? if he died now, would he die as someone else? has he ever lived as himself?

the heart is often symbolic of feelings and the essence of your life. when it's removed in fantasy settings and the character somehow stays alive, they usually act differently. a part of their self has been taken so something appears wrong

chip's heart was taken and he didn't change. in fact he stayed very much the same. i actually forgot mid-combat that his heart had been taken in the first place. you'd think in the switch from being alive to being undead, something would change. but in a way, maybe chip's always been undead, sewn together by string he's taken from others

this is all very dramatic sounding and honestly a little bit of a stretch, but i can't help it my brain is exploding and all i can see is that one picture of haunted chibo with the fish eye effect. help