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nightskyfangirl · 5 months ago

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Summary: Five and Luther get into a car crash. Luther is severly injured and Five has to save him.

Characters: Five Hargreeves, Luther Hargreeves, (others siblings briefly)

A/N: I'm reposting some of my Umbrella Academy fanfics from Archive of Our Own since the main site is down. If you see any mistakes/typos, I apologize, but this copy is from my backups and is not as edited as what is published on AO3.

It was the cold that woke Five. Not a slight chill, but a bone deep cold that he couldn’t shake.

Five remembered the crash, but his memory was foggy. He probably had a concussion.

It had been raining and Luther was driving. He and Five had been arguing about something stupid. Five didn’t even remember what it was about. Then Luther looked at Five and lost control of the car. Five remembered Luther’s hand shooting out, bracing Five stronger than any seatbelt. Then the car rolled and Five hit his head on the glass, passenger window.

Five opened his eyes, squinting at the light. It felt blindingly bright and caused a spiking pain in his head. Reasonably, he knew it wasn’t any brighter than normal, but the logic didn’t help dull anything.

They were in a ditch, but at least the car had landed right-side-up. The front of the car was dented in, and the windshield and Five’s passenger window were shattered. The rain was still pouring, and the wind blew it in through the window.

Five hadn’t been this cold since the apocalypse. Maybe that’s why he woke up. In the apocalypse, the summers were scorching, and the winters were sharp, biting winds and freezing temperatures. Cold like this was dangerous. He only had himself to rely on, no doctors, limited medicine. Cold like this could be a death sentence. And now Five wasn’t only cold, he was wet. His shirt was soaked through, his hair was dripping water down his face. Even his socks felt wet.

Five turned to his side.

“Luther?” Five asked, his voice coming out raspy. Five’s eyes were having trouble focusing. He reached out, smacking Luther’s shoulder. “Wake up, Luther.”

Luther slowly came into focus. Dark red blood covered half of his face from a deep gash on his forehead. Probably where he hit the steering wheel. Five reminded himself that head wounds bleed a lot even when they weren’t serious.

But then why wasn’t Luther waking up?

“Luther,” Five snapped, shoving Luther’s shoulder again. Light reflected off something at Luther’s waist. It was a long shard of glass, the length of Five’s forearm, sticking out of Luther’s gut, turning his shirt a dark red.

Five didn’t know if his brain was slowing down or speeding up, but either way it wasn’t working right. He felt like he was short-circuiting. He reached out one hand, straining to reach Luther’s neck. He searched for too long to find a pulse, but it was there. It was slow and weak, but there.

Five breathed out through his nose, willing his hands to stop shaking. How many times did he have to see his siblings almost die? Hadn’t he done this enough?

Five clicked his seat belt off. Luther didn’t feel as cold as Five and seemed to be radiating heat. Even when they were kids, Luther usually stayed warm but after Dad changed his DNA to match Pogo’s, Luther always radiated heat. Five wondered if it was his body fighting the DNA like an infection, keeping Luther mildly feverish at all times.

Five leaned across Luther to get a better view of the glass.

It was a piece of the windshield. At least that meant it was unlikely to break off inside Luther. Five took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around the glass, putting pressure on the wound.

Luther groaned.

“You with me?” Five asked. Luther didn’t respond. Typical.

Five kept one hand on Luther and did a quick scan of their surrondings. He couldn’t see far in the rain, but they were definitely in the middle of nowhere. All he saw were trees. There were no stores or houses. Five didn’t even know which direction to walk in to find help, much less how far. He knew they were getting close to the Academy, probably another 10 minutes before Luther crashed.

And Luther was heavy. Five couldn’t carry him and the car was definitely totaled. Spatial jumps with anyone was difficult, but someone Luther’s size would be nearly impossible in Five’s condition. And Five knew he couldn’t risk needing two jumps. He would have to stretch his powers and take them all the way to the Academy. That was miles away.

Five was only getting colder. The air was cutting and, now that he didn’t have his jacket, there was nothing providing a barrier from the wind but his soaked shirt.

Luther hated spatial jumping with Five. He always claimed it made him nauseous for hours afterwards. But in his current condition, Luther wasn’t in able to complain.

Five frowned. “Brace yourself.”

He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Luther or himself.

Five kept one hand on the jacket wrapped around the glass in Luther’s stomach and put his other hand on Luther’s shoulder. He reached for his powers.

Normally his powers were at his fingertips. As soon as he reached for them, they were there, and he was able to pull himself to his destination. But now they were uncooperative. Five was exhausted and his teeth were chattering from the cold. Five pushed harder, fighting to reach his powers.

Eventually he caught it, feeling the destination on the other side. He pulled and he and Luther disappeared in a flash of blue.

***

Diego flipped his knife again before catching it in his palm. Five and Luther were running late. They had all agreed to dinner and Mom had spent hours working on it. There was a concert tonight and Diego understood that but would be nice if Five and Luther showed appreciation for Mom’s work. Instead, Allison, Klaus, and Diego were sitting in the living room waiting for Luther and Five to show while Mom’s hard work sat on the table.

Allison had insisted on waiting for Luther and Five and Mom sided with Allison. But Diego was still irritated.

Diego looked at the time. Dinner had been ready for 20 minutes and still no sign of the others.

“How long do you want to wait, Allison?” Diego asked. “They may not be coming.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “They’ll be here. They both live here; they have to come home at some point.”

After the apocalypses, they tried to work out a family dinner or outing once a month. They did smaller meet ups in between, but with Allison traveling to see Claire and everyone else staying busy with jobs or vigilante-ing, once a month was an accomplishment.

“All I’m saying,” Diego said, “is if they were hungry, they would be here. They’re adults. We don’t need to wait for them.”

Klaus pointed at Diego. “He has a point.”

Before Allison could reply there was a flash of blue in the foyer.

They all stood from their seats. Klaus made his way to the table, probably looking to get first choice at whatever Mom had made, but Allison and Diego walked to the foyer.

“What took you so long?” Diego asked as he turned the corner. Diego stopped.

Luther was on the floor and Five looked about to join him. A large shard of glass was sticking out of Luther’s gut and blood was already starting to puddle on the floor. They were both soaked to the bone. Five stumbled.

“Help Luther,” Five said. He lowered himself to sitting but his legs gave out halfway and he seemed to fall the rest of the way. Even sitting, he braced one hand on the ground as if to keep his balance. His pupils were blown wide, probably from a concussion, and his head was bleeding.

Despite his better judgement and Five’s history of hiding injuries, Diego listened to Five.

Diego rushed over to Luther, hesitating only for a second before putting pressure on the cloth wrapped around the glass. It looked like Five’s blazer which would explain why Five was only wearing his button-up shirt.

“Mom,” Diego yelled. “It’s Luther!”

Allison was across from Diego, leaning over Luther. She tapped his face, calling his name but he didn’t react.

“He been unresponsive,” Five said from behind Diego.

“How long?”

“I don’t know.”

Klaus walked into the room, followed by Mom.

“What happened?” Klaus asked. Diego didn’t know and Five didn’t respond.

Mom knelt beside Diego, gently moving him out of the way.

“I need to get him to the infirmary,” Mom said. “Can you go grab the—”

Allison was already gone before Mom could finish. Luther was too big to carry without help and Dad had invested in a strong gurney before he died.

“Five?” Klaus said. Diego glanced over his shoulder as Klaus crouched in front of Five. “You got a pretty good gash there on your head. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“Put pressure here, Diego,” Mom said, calling him back to Luther. Once his hands were putting weight on Luther’s injury, Mom moved to check Luther over for any other injuries.

“Luther lost control of the car,” Five said, dryly. “We went in a ditch.”

“Here?” Klaus asked.

“Few miles away, I think.”

Diego looked over his shoulder at Five. “You jumped a few miles? With Luther?”

Five met Diego’s eyes and blinked. He didn’t offer a response, but Diego wasn’t sure if it was Five’s way of saying Duh or if it was just the concussion at work.

Allison was back. She adjusted the gurney so it was a little lower and they wouldn’t have to lift Luther as high. Together, Mom, Allison, and Diego managed to get Luther on and then Mom whisked him away, Allison right on her heels.

Diego was about to follow when Klaus spoke up.

“I think we might need a little help, Diego,” Klaus said. “Can you stand Five?”

Five looked at Klaus, blinking slowly before nodding jerkily. Five struggled to push himself to stand, but Diego knew he wouldn’t appreciate help so he kept his distance.

As soon as he was upright, he stumbled backwards, almost landing on his ass again if Klaus hadn’t grabbed his arm.

“Okay,” Klaus said as Diego grabbed Five’s other arm. “To the infirmary. Just like old times.”

Please comment if you enjoyed <3

#Umbrella Academy #Five Hargreeves #Luther Hargreeves #Archive of Our Own #TUA

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noirandchocolate · 2 years ago

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Sorry I'm late with this, but here's my Some Comments That Made Me Laugh post for Round 2!

Match 1, Vimes vs. Moist

Mister Vimes, destroy that twink.

--@stophelping

Sorry but for all his charisma and charming personality. Sam Vimes is anger incarnated turbofucked by THE boogeyman of the dwarfs and his will and sense of justice still surpass it. If it comes into a fight it's because Moist has broken the law in a way that flaunts he is beyond justice. And as armies and Carrot had learned, he had just personally insulted him and his line. If Vimes comes for you it's because the universe is sick of your shit right now.

--@hiziram

I mean, Vimes already won, once. Spangler was very much hanged. But that just means they both have a better grasp of each other's skills, and Vimes won't get the drop on Moist again.

--@doomspanies (who wins for best pun)

Moist is quick and creative. But Vimes can lure three assassins into three different traps before breakfast. And he's been waiting for an opportunity to spread around his Moist-induced headache. The question is--how quickly do Sybil and Spike make friends on the sidelines?

--@onwardsandsideways

Match 2, Cohen vs. Rob

I think it comes down to: Rob Anybody doesn't care if he dies, and Cohen doesn't care if Rob Anybody dies, either.

--@doomspaniels

Cohen is older, sneakier and doesn't wear trousers to run up, so...

--@twofoursixohjuan

Close. But I think Cohen loses. Exclusively because he isn't used to being the big stomping monster.

--@missnotlob

Match 3, Granny vs. Detritus

Just saying, there's a reason her Troll name is Aaoograha hoa ("She Who Must Be Avoided")

--@rimeson

#1) Granny's gonna win. #2) Even if Detritus was taking it seriously and brought out the piecemaker. I think Granny could scare IT into not shooting at her.

--@omicheese

I'm gonna give it to Granny. her glare can melt rock, which is particularly effective on trolls.

--@fefeman

Match 4, Nutt vs. the Librarian

I just happen to believe that even in a friendly competition the Librarian would play fast and loose on potential murder. Whereas Mr Nutt would be more sportsmanlike ultimately at the cost of victory. The moral victory would be Mr Nutt's. But the Librarian wouldn't give a shit. He'd have the actual win and more menace to leverage a bigger banana budget from the Dean.

--@violetren

If the winner of this whole thing doesn't OOOK it's a farce.

--@msmeiriona

ngl I hope the Librarian wins the tournament. I'm a Murders in the Rue Morgue kind of fan.

--@fiercestpurpose (who wins for best reference to orangutan-themed slaughter)

Match 5, Vetinari vs. Adora Belle

Adora Belle Dearheart is just stubborn and saavy enough for Vetinari to have at least a small string board dedicated to her, and a curated and carefully updated file on her weaknesses. Just in case she sets her sights a little too high for his comfort. Unfortunately for Adora he comes in way more prepared than she could ever hope to be.

--@violetren

Spike tries her kitty heel speech and is halfway through digging it into Vetinari's bad leg when suddenly. Somehow. Vetinari has switched the shoes. 'My apologies Miss Dearheart but I'm afraid the shoe is on the other foot."

--@amatalefay

I feel like Adora would win by threatening to move to Quirm, taking with her both the golem trust and, more importantly, her husband. Vetinari immediately forfeits, not wanting to lose one of the city's better businessmen/public servants, but also knowing that Moist would probably be running Quirm within a week, which wouldn't be good for Vetinari's blood pressure.

--@missnotlob

Match 6, Nanny vs. Lu-Tze

Aaaaugh, hard choice!! Going with Nanny because Lu-Tze probably has a deep respect for all ladies who give out Wisdoms. And I know Lu-Tze has time powers but Nanny could snap him like a toothpick.

--@purpledemoncat

The only thing I can imagine them fighting over is the blanket on a cold night and Nanny would win.

--@thisblogisboundforglory-blog

This one's so tough. Killer instinct? That's a tie. Raw power? Also a tie. Commitment to the bit? Tie as well. Ability to lose with grace? Tie! In a serious fight I have no idea who'd win. But in a friendly fight? They'd play rock paper scissors probably. Or Lu-Tze would bring them to the best party of all time (Year of the Committed Flea on Fourecks), and they'd spend a week there before remembering about the fight. Come back smelly and giggly and drunk. And go what were we doing again? Eventually they'd drive the judges so crazy they'd both be kicked out of the contest.

--@parkersgeorg

She fucked that old man.

--@stonebluerue

Match 7, Ridcully vs. Carrot

Ridcully gets one shot at classic dead man's shoes shenanigans. ONE. If/when it fails because Carrot is much hardier and much hailer than his usual opponents. Also Carrot sees him attempt/almost succeed at some shady tactic and takes it upon himself to arrest Ridcully. And therefore cannot fall until Ridcully is in cuffs and handed off to a fellow watch member.

--@violetren

I think Carrot has a kind of insistent certainty about him that Ridcully could not stand up against for long enough to win the fight. Carrot just being like "Excuse me sir you are under arrest. Yes I understand you're a wizard but nevertheless." Ridcully trying his empty blustering bullshit to get past it. Probably Carrot is eventually like "If you would just come with me for 30 minutes, we'll get the paperwork sorted out and you'll be back in time for lunch." And how can you argue with "back in time for lunch"?

--@lemonbubble

I actually think this would be a draw. I think they would get into a Lovely Chat For Chaps and then shake hands and leave the ring without ever fighting. Lots of ringing laughter and shoulder clapping, though.

--@ymirjotunn

Gonna go with Ridcully in this one. The thing about wizards is that while he would respect the king of legend and does have a semi okay understanding with Vetinari, wizards also be fuckin around and finding out. One misplaced spell and it's all over for Carrot.

--@purpledemoncat

Match 8, Angua vs. Jackrum

Jackrum wrestles wolves and bears for a workout. Jackrum has an 8 pack and is shredded.

--@purpledemoncat

Hate to say this. But Jackrum definitely has the foresight to drop a scent bomb.

--@cake-my-beloved

She'd rip his throat out no hesitation. Even if he's stinky.

--@mhninaeide

As usual lots of super good commentary on these bouts, I wish I could reblog or copy them all. ;__;

#terry pratchett #discworld #discworld fight club 2023

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lancedoncrimsonwings · 6 months ago

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Find the word tag!

Tagged by the lovely: @aintgonnatakethis

My words: confuse, warning, team, and dry

No pressure tag: @holy3cake

Rules: You must try to find the words;

sighed

race

surface

touched

in your WIPs, and post a small snippet. If you can't find one, pick something similar!

Anyone is free to play this, if you want to join in, consider yourself tagged by me!

All of these snippets are WIPs from "Horizons to Battlegrounds" (HtB), my upcoming fic Lancelot/The Weeping Monk x Gawain/The Green Knight from Cursed on Netflix

Confused:

-- Lancelot's stomach twisted at the scents. "Very good... Pine... Willow bark- that's useful..." The Knight listed off each ingredient as he found them. He paused at a clump of large, shredded leaves that had begun to brown, frowning. "What was this?" Squirrel leaned over, also appearing confused, humming to himself. From the quick waft of scent alone he could guess exactly what the mystery herb was, but he listened with the lightest of smiles amid the discomfort as they debated between them. Finally after a good minute or so once the correct guess had been mentioned no less than three times and the nausea was only growing stronger he could take it no longer, compelled to put them out of their misery if only to end the discussion and get them to shut the fucking pouch... "It's Plantain."

- from "The Heathlands/Part 1" of HtB

Warning:

"How bad is it?" Gawain asked, in that same placating voice as earlier.

"I'm alive." He kept his voice calm, though internally, the pain seemed to spike now that he was paying attention to it again. It took every single ounce of his willpower and past practice to remain calm and still, and to keep his voice from wavering. He knew he couldn't keep this hidden much longer though.

"Lancelot..."

Despite Gawain's warning tone, Lancelot blanked him completely.

"Don't make me come over there and find out for myself. Crippled or no, if you're half as bad as I think you are then you won't be able to stop me, either." Gawain's voice raised into clear frustration, that concern still dominated his battered features but the clear edge of a man who was used to being listened to now hardened his demeanour. Lancelot relented just a modicum.

"What do you want me to say, Knight?" Lancelot sighed heavily.

- from "The Heathlands/Part 1" of HtB

Team Allies:

"Oh will you two give over!" Kaze hissed, stepping between the two men, lashing her tail angrily. Lancelot had the good grace to look ashamed, Dranos still openly glared.

"We are allies now, like it or not. I don't care whether you hate the Monk, we have a duty to fulfill and we must fulfill it, and we cannot do this without him."

Gawain watched Lancelot clasp his hands behind his back, rigid and to attention like a soldier waiting for his command. Dranos immediately opened his mouth to argue with Kaze, but she halted him by pressing a blade he hadn't even noticed her draw at his cheek.

"By the blade we all must make a pact. Not to murder each other in our sleep, from this day forth, allies bound by blood." Kaze raised the blade into the air, looked around the group around her.

"What say you?"

- from "Journey to Hrafna/Part 3" of HtB

Dry:

"The waterskins he now filled, taking care to rinse Lancelot's clean of the wine dregs that remained in the bottom. Their alcohol had now run dry and by Arwan it certainly didn't make dealing with the damned fool any easier. Given how Lancelot bared his bloody teeth every time Gawain tried to help him he aknowledged that the feeling was probably mutual."

- from "The Heathlands/Part 1" of HtB.

#tag game #find the word tag #find the word game #wip tag game #whump writer #whump fic #whumplr #writeblr #wip game #wip #writing wip

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schoenht · 1 year ago

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NVM I FOUND IT

Background I'm in a group and we are trying to pick a song for a performance that we hv to do but everyone is dead inside and my only friend there is basically a younger girl

So I finally make the suggestion after the YOUNGER girl had to lowkey signal to her to STFU by like gesturing towards me when my ex friend had stopped talking. My suggestion was to reuse the song we did last year because it was not as cringe and it was a good song. My suggestion was shot down. AFTER THAT THOUGH, NOBODY makes suggestions they all stay quiet. And MY EX FRIEND GUESS WHAT she decides to do. Try to act high and mighty again by 'taking initiative' again to tell them to speak up now or we would end up with the 💩💩 song. And THIS is where she made her mistake. (More context coz I'm bad at telling stories:earlier when my senior was playing the 💩💩 song me and the younger girl were shaking our heads at each other like this is not it ain't no way we r gonna sing this poo poo garbage) My toxic friend TURNS TO ME AND THE YOUNGER GIRL and says something along the lines of, "You two were shaking your heads at each other earlier, what suggestions do you have? " I can't remember the exact words because she was SO appalling but it was definitely a least a tinge more aggressive and offensive than that.ALSO because of her all the attention was on us, embarrassing.(this lowkey added to my anger) At that point my anger had already been building up to the point where I DIDN'T FEEL ANGER. Only when she said that 💩💩 it's like she broke a dam and my blood pressure spiked up I kid u not. I calmly, but also ppl could probably detect the heavy undertone of pure anger underneath or maybe I sound dumb idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯but essentially I spoke very formally and said something along the lines of I have already made a suggestion(I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DID AND SHE TARGETS ME AND THE YOUNGER GIRL⁉️), It was not accepted. I have no further suggestions. What do you want from me? What would you like me to say, genuinely is there anything YOU want ME to suggest? I don't have much of an opinion of the music because I don't listen to music often(when I do it's usually not in English either🧍‍♀️) . Anyway that 🐶 shut up because like why the heck was she picking to fight a losing battle?? And she did not face the embarrassment of ppl staring at her coz my other senior spoke up about another song

Yay end of story was it dramatic or good tea LOL idk what counts also idk if I was cringe coz reading back I might come off as toxic 🤡😅

Bro. What. WHAT. ALL BC OF. A SONG ????

#💜.answers #💚.anons!!!#i will never understand why ppl make a mountain out of a molehill #bffr. like either compromise or get the fuck out #we got shit to do and we cannot waste time on trying to please EVERYONE

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loveyoutumbler75 · 2 years ago

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Don’t you Hate When That Happens?

hunter angst w darius & raine saving his life WE LOVE TO IT

AO3 link at the end

WARNINGS//

Blood, Minor violence (hes stabbed a little), Puking

…

He’d failed again. Third time in a row this week, he had failed another mission. None of them were close to being difficult, Hunter was just having the worst of luck and no one was working with his schedule so things that did go correctly on happened 3 hours late. It was enough to set him at constant unease. The first two times he’d failed, Belos was kind enough to go easy on him, but the third time was pushing a limit.

Belos’s skin was bubbling, wavering between a sickly pale and a dark mud-green. Hunter knew what was to come. The anxiety and fear grew as Belos formed to an amalgamation of witch and monster. His mind was running too fast with so many emotions that he hadn’t been able to put together a single coherent or worded thought. A whirlwind of petrified scare, worsening stress, and so many other feelings he didn’t quite have the vocabulary to title spun in his mind.

He didn’t even recognize the fact he had dropped his staff and started backing away until his heel hit a wall, which cued a reaction to hurriedly look back, to confirm if it truly was a wall or another danger he’d have to worry about. The split second he looked back was enough of an open for Belos, which he took as a thrash with a spike-formed arm towards Hunter, slicing into the side of his torso.

Immediately a deep red pooled from the gash, puddling through his undershirt and staining the white cloak he wore. The most of a reaction he had was a whimper as he moved to feel the open wound.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to do it; because he knows better than to try and run, but at the sight of seeing Belos reel his far-too-sharp limb back to prepare for another hit, his hands reached back, scrambling on the wall in search for a door handle, a desperate attempt to find an escape.

Titan must truly have a plan for him, because the instant he found the door and swung it open just enough to squeeze through the gap, a loud bang slammed into the door as he forced it to close. A series of louder, heavier bangs and a monstrous roar emitted from the either side of the wall, he knew better than to stand there.

Running through the halls and far, far away from the throne room, he barely gave himself a moment to look in front of him, head turned just enough to send darting glances behind himself as he dashed past the occasional guard.

He doesn’t know how far he got when he stumbled into someone, falling to the floor as he finally stopped to look up and saw an agitated Darius and a surprised Raine beside him.

“ Hunter—“ A face of annoyance dissipated to concern as he noticed the absolute fear that expressed itself on Hunter’s face. He was gasping for air with tear tracks running down his cheeks, eyes still glossy and overall self rumpled and messy.

“Oh my Titan— his side! ” Raine saw the blood faster than Darius did, all three of them turning their attention to his side. Hunter moved to his knees, shifting off his cloak and lifting the tunic just enough to see the laceration that gushed a consistent stream of crimson. Hunter’s body must’ve caught up enough to form a reaction, because not only did he sob and begin crying harder, he puked a disgusting shade of yellow, which made home to the gathering collection of stains on his cape. His thoughts burned, and the adrenaline had faded, so the pain he was supposed to feel around 10 minutes earlier was now searing.

“Hunter— lay down and put as much pressure as you can on it.” doing as told, he brought his hands to his side and forced himself to stiffly lay down, his face grimaced with pain as he did. Darius wormed his arms under Hunter’s legs and back to pick him up, sprinting as fast as he could without jostling the other. “Darius—“ “ What?” His tone came off far angrier than intended, but there wasn’t any anger at all. Stress of the currently bleeding-out teen in his arms must’ve effected how he sounded, but it was still enough for Hunter to shut up. Which, to Darius, who was too focused on getting seemed like he’d passed out because of the sudden silence.

The worry of that fueled his speed.

#o #the owl house #TOH #raine whispers #darius deamonne #writing #fanfic

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grazhir · 3 months ago

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Occupy Mars

Oh, wow, what a fucking mistake. I actually decided to play the prologue.

Talk about bare bones, we don't give a fuck, tutorial. Like, I'm not an easily angered person, but I was *this* close to rage-quitting multiple times.

I finally, on one part, just started doing the maze tactic and eventually ended up outside to deal with Spotty. Okay, sure, I guess, though telling me "the robot" means FUCK-ALL to a brand new player who walked into this blind, and your quest markers are bullshit when so many doors are barred.

[Let's not talk about trying to replace a fuse when my screen was practically black, and I just randomly clicked until it randomly worked, because the arrows were confusing to me and I'm not even sure they mattered.]

Plenty of people will to talk (well, not the ones who just rudely stare at you), but why bother with voice acting if their mouths don't even move.

[We're still in Early Access, right? This has to be.]

So fine. I do the board thing and my blood pressure spikes again at the next "helpful" objective.

Finally realize I have to have free hands to even talk to the idiot out there. Then I need to build a light? Sure, bro.

Except... yeah, no actual helpful hints for that, either. But I get it done.

Surprise random fire breaks out, and because I'm new, apparently I'm the dogsbody and slave. Go get an extinguisher, put out a fire (Subnautica this is not, nor is it Surviving Mars), and remove and go repair the whatever I just grabbed.

Cutscene? This is alarming!

Yeah, tragic accident (sorry, dude I'm replacing who broke his arm), and I'm told to escape to the rally point.

No, sorry, I did not see "green lights" I only found about once I hit Mr Google to see reactions to this sequence.

And sure, my "adreneline" spiked, if that's what you mean by the sudden change in blood pressure making head throb alarmingly.

I died, naturally.

No, I don't want to retry right now. Yes, I force-closed the game so I could come bitch on the internet.

Maybe later I'll go back and see if I can do this escape. But skipping is an option. Also, no love for the devs for putting in a push thing when it's literally never come up during the short prologue.

Worst case, I just skip the prologue entirely and try the real gameplay.

#occupy mars #rant

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 7 months ago

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Hart and Hunter - Chapter 35 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Julian Hart

I take a deep breath... my heart races as adrenaline spikes my blood and my muscles go weak and shivery.

I feel like anything but an action hero.

Dane rests a hand on my arm but says nothing... he doesn't have to.

Through that gentle touch, I hear everything he wants to convey, that he won't think less of me if I back out, that he trusts and loves me and that he'll literally follow me to hell if need be.

"Okay. Everybody wait here while I check it out."

I give him a smile and take another deep breath and then a leap of faith.

I dive head first, as I'd seen 'Danni' do and force myself to keep my eyes open.

The water is freezing cold and I clamp my lips shut against an involuntary gasp at the shock of it.

I'm not a bad swimmer but even the best swimmers don't swim fully clothed and the heavy garments make my movements slow and laborious.

Fortunately, the water is crystal clear and the flashlight is, as promised, waterproof.

I swim downward in a spiral, keeping the beam angled at the almost sheer stone walls as I search for something like an opening.

About halfway down and just as my ears begin to hurt from the pressure and I'm about to run out of breath... I find it... a circular opening about the size of a large sewage drain.

Quickly orienting myself by a few surrounding features of stone, I shoot for the surface as fast as I can.

Breaking through, I fill my lungs with a gasp of air, then cough and flounder my way back to where Dane and the others wait.

"Found it," I wheeze.

"We saw," Dane says, crouching to grab my hand and give me something to hold on to as I catch my breath.

"This water's incredibly clear. One thing on our side, at least."

"It's also f-fucking f-freezing," I say, teeth chattering as the muscles in my clenched jaw spasm with cold.

"Let's g-get this over with b-before I get h-hypothermia."

Dane nods and addresses the others over his shoulder.

"Alright. Deep breaths, stay close."

Turning back to me, he reaches down and touches the side of my face, his amber eyes faintly gleaming in the dark.

"Be careful but move fast. We'll be right behind you."

Nodding, I take a few quick, deep gulps of air, then fill my lungs one last time and dive beneath the surface again.

Pushing off the wall with my feet, I shoot straight for the tunnel with the flashlight held in front of me as a guiding beam.

As the dark opening looms before me, panic rears its head.

I don't know how long or wide the tunnel is, how long I'll have to hold my breath or how far I'll have to swim but I know one thing... if I lose it in there, we could all die.

No turning back.

Without losing momentum, I shoot into the tunnel.

The light reveals smooth black walls that seem too perfect to be natural, and then something clicks... it's an ancient lava tube.

The region around Spring Lakes is well-known for its semi-dormant volcanism and these tunnels must have formed during the last period of major activity.

The thought brings a new fear.

No sooner has it arrived when it's confirmed, as my watery vision reveals a divergence up ahead.

The tunnel splits in two... one larger and one smaller branch.

The smaller one leads off at a slightly downward slant, while the larger leads straight on.

I head for the obvious choice of the larger tunnel when a thought gives me pause.

The choice before me is life or death and I have a fifty-fifty chance either way.

With three other lives in the gamble, I don't like those odds.

In desperation, I let my senses expand as much as I can in my half-panicked state.

With water in my ears and my breath suspended, I'm left with vision and touch.

By this point, my lungs burn with the need for air and claustrophobia closes in.

I'm trapped in a tunnel too narrow to turn around in, with the way out blocked by three bodies and a deadly choice before me.

I've just decided on the larger tunnel after all, when my hand brushes the wall and I pick up a very faint impression... a streak of energy, the trail of a creature in flight, shooting off into the smaller tunnel.

Still, I hesitate, immobilized by fear.

Then, like a whisper, I hear my father's voice in my head, speaking the words from my dream.

'Have faith, Julian. You will know when you see.'

Gritting my teeth, I pray to any and every God that might be listening and follow the shimmering trail of trace energy into the smaller tunnel.

A few feet in, the passageway narrows further and slopes downward at a steeper angle and panic bursts into full bloom in my chest.

Suddenly certain I've killed us all, I taste pure fear like hot iron at the back of my tongue and my heart goes into overdrive, burning through the last of my oxygen.

I'm gonna die and so is Dane and Freya and...

The tunnel bottoms out and slants upwards again and with a desperate burst of energy, I push myself forward and through.

A sparkle of light glimmers above me... not trace energy seen with Fae sight but actual light from above.

With a fresh injection of hope and my whole body burning with the need to breathe, I shoot towards it and with a relief so intense it hurts, break the surface and gulp down huge lungfuls of life-giving air.

A second later, Freya bursts from the water, inhaling smoothly and hauls a choking, spluttering Erickson up after her.

As we struggle to shore, shivering with cold and relief, I see that we've emerged into a circular pool.

It's roughly five meters across and its black waters surge with sluggish waves as we disrupt its usually still surface.

Dark ferns choke the stony shores and the trunks of gigantic trees stand sentinel all around.

Even if I hadn't recognized it from Stephanie's memory, the pervasive twilight gloom and strange, greyish light are enough to tell me where we are.

"Welcome to the Shadowlands," I gasp and then, realizing he hasn't yet appeared...

"Where is Dane?"

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death---dealer · 2 years ago

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Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez Headcanons. ( Part One. )

IDK MAN. I don’t know how many parts this is going to be but uhm. Please enjoy, likes and reblogs are always appreciated as is feedback! These are long as heck, counting in at over 2k words. Pls let me know if u are interested in more! I have many thoughts. Warnings: Mild Violence, language.

Grimmjow x Reader. ( Fandom: Bleach. )

Grimmjow didn't realize just how important smell was in the sense of attraction. He knew what it was in battle, to smell the adrenaline, the anger and the desperation for a win. He knew what it was in everyday life, smelling fear from lower ranking arrancars when he was in their presence. But, from the first moment he met you, your scent has been etched into the back of his nose, taunting him that he can’t just rip you open to smell your blood, begging him to touch you without any words.

You felt like breathing was suffocating. Holding your breath did nothing but set your lungs on fire, you knew that but you felt like you had to as your back hit against a sandy wall, two hands coming up to encapsulate your face from moving either direction. You had to look at him, he was forcing you. Look at me or die, his actions told you. “You better not make my life hell,” That didn't need to be said but it was grinding to hear, “Stay out of my way. And I might not have to kill ya.” A squeak rose from your chest and his blue eyes narrowed as eye contact was finally accomplished. He was striking - teal strips under his eyes that only served to narrow his already intimidating gaze, the shattered hollow mask on the side of his face with razor sharp teeth that glistened when he moved his head, silky blue hair that framed his pale face almost perfectly. Your eyes met once again after you studied him up close, a shockwave sending shivers down your spine when his spiritual pressure spiked. Intentionally. Swallowing, your knees buckled beneath the weight of your body and you slid down the wall as all your energy was brought to a halt. He followed you without hesitation, grabbing the front of your shirt and assuring you stayed on your own two feet by hoisting you upwards. The teeth of his hollow mask were nothing compared to the set that showed when a smile spread across his defined features. It was twisted and maniacal, like if you crossed him he’d bring you forward and smash you through the wall. An invisible threat that was very much a real possibility. “Ya understand what I’m sayin’, or are ya stupid? You nodded. Before you knew what was happening, you were jolting forward, your face mere centimeters away from his. Your hands flailed backwards in some attempt to stop the movement, but that was in vain. His power tore through you and your arms were grasping at his as he still held you up by your bunched up shirt. This intimidation tactic backfired almost immediately. Cerulean eyes widened, but only a fraction and Grimmjow knew you were unable to tell his reaction to getting the sudden… Dare he say a whiff of your natural scent. For a fraction of a second, it felt like his entire body would jump out of his skin. Sweat, pouring from almost every nerve of your body, fear searing its way down your spine, exhilaration… All things he knew the smell of but this was something new, something almost sickly to him. There was something there, something the panther couldn’t quite put his finger on. His eyes peered down. In the position he had you in, the skin of your neck and clavicle were on display for him. If he focused enough, he was sure to see your heartbeat through one of the veins running deliciously down your neck. Oh, in this moment all he wanted was to press his tongue there and to put a taste to what he was smelling. Grimmjow drew a loud breath in, almost to the point of pain. He could smell your blood riding into every one of his senses, his urge to slam you down in domination almost too powerful to control. The smile that slapped across his face only got more radical when your nails dug into his skin, tearing Grimmjow back to reality. You were pleading with him silently to put you down, to stop this. An instinct he was happy to see since there was no rational explanation for the smell you were rubbing off on him. He’d focus on this instead. “Good to know you’re not a complete imbecile and will fight when you’re threatened.” His hot breath was overpowering, it cascaded against your face, down your neck and rested uncomfortably on your chest, which was already ablaze from lack of proper breathing. “Save it. You’re in the presence of a King, I don’t blame you for tryin’ to defend yourself but try to keep your claws off of me.” Smack! Your side made vicious contact with the floor below, blue eyes staring down at you with no pity and slight amusement when you gasped. Oh, he loved to hear things like that. “Get changed. You smell disgusting. Like a human.” He spit at you, turning on his heel to finally leave you to his Fracción who stood by silently. You got a glimpse of the number on his back, the hole in his stomach. You didn't know his name, but now knew his number.

In some really strange way, the Sexta Espada thinks pursuing you is a game of stalking his prey.

To see the movement of your body from the back, the pure hesitation in your steps because he can sense that you know he’s watching you from the shadows, he can smell the fear coming from the way your fingers would expand and then contract nervously, the way you would glance over your shoulder here and there, the stumbling of your feet just to keep yourself upright when you caught lucid sensations of his overpowering spiritual pressure. But, he kept himself from you. His body felt like it was barely at your fingertips to the point that you could feel the sheer heat radiating from him, but you couldn’t see where he was, where he was coming from. In some twisted way, you enjoyed the feeling now that you had experienced it so frequently. “Tch, how easy this is.” He’d think to himself, leaving his spot against the wall as you graciously gifted him with some more movement. There was a pep in the way that Grimmjow followed you. He was excited, eager. Was it stemming from his wanting to be near you? Or was it from his precedent want to destroy you? The blue haired man was genuinely uneasy about why, but whatever it was, it left him nearly purring on the inside to follow you so closely, but not too close. He kept himself on average, far enough away that your human eyes couldn’t detect him. Taking a deep breath, Grimmjow just peers at you silently, cerulean eyes almost searing a hole into the back of your fragile skull that he imagined would be so easy to split open at a moment's spontaneity if he was just a bit too rough. He never would, but the thought entered his train of amusement here and there when his animalistic nature ran rampant. There was anticipation building in his mind at the idea of just sinking his teeth in your neck, nails grinding against your skin, the smell of iron hitting his nose as he tore through your skin and drew blood, and all it would take was a pouncing step… More likely than not though, rather than diving into the indulgence of those thoughts, he’ll stick to slight patience and stalk you for a bit longer. Where was the fun in enjoying a meal without a bit of fun before?

He finds it almost unbearable to have his mask touched or his hollow hole. Though, they’re for two different reasons.

Having his hollow mask touched means his defense was completely down. Grimmjow isn’t a fan of that- the feeling of being vulnerable. He spent too much time as a Vasto Lorde when it was literally hunt or be hunted, to allow himself to ever feel like that again. So, why was the feeling hitting him deep in his chest? This disgusting feeling, he’d think to himself, his eyes hooded as he nearly glared down at you as your gentle fingers traced an almost absent minded shape against his mask. Against the ridgid bone, not stopping at any of the imperfections he imagined were there. The bumps, the crevices of where bone might have chipped off in the middle of a fight… You didn't seem to mind, you kept going in some sort of sick adoration. What was your deal? Why were you doing this to him? What in that human mind of yours said ‘This is a good idea’? Lips parting, Grimmjow could almost taste you on his tongue, a spike of something seering into his body to replace that heavy feeling of dread that sat at the very bottom of his heart --- well, if he even had one. He wasn’t even taking in any oxygen into his lungs anymore, Grimmjow didn't dare with you this close to him. So willing to touch him, knowing what he could do to you with just the meager flick of his wrist. Was it amusing to touch him like this? Were you having fun? There was no way for him to distinguish what you were thinking which he found frustrating beyond belief. The blue haired Espada often relied on his ability to read movements, it came with his territory, but right now? There was no reading this. You were diving head first into danger. And as demented a thought it was, Grimmjow didn't stop you because he wanted to see how far you would take it. Call it his pride, his ego, selfishness but amusement finally rose in the back of his throat. Human attraction, he figured this was. Or fascination. Or perhaps… Both. His eyes flutter for just a second as you take your time tracing the teeth of his hollow mask, an almost phantom feeling running down his spine. His brain was screaming at him that you were attacking, he had been conditioned to think that at any instant someone was this close to him. There was an appealing curve at the bottom of his mask that cusped beautifully against his sharp jawline; your fingers barely grazed there, his bare skin. Soft… Begging to be touched, to be held… Grimmjow’s head slumped forward, blue hair shifting softly with his movement. You were going to cup his cheek, that was the decision in the back of your mind. Push the envelope. Just a little… more…. Without a moment's hesitation, Grimmjow was grasping at your wrist, hard enough that you knew a bruise would form there in a few hours, yanking you to be his arms length away from him. It was all a blur. One second you were touching him with his willingness leaking from every crevice of his being, and the next, his eyes had shifted to threatening, pupils dilated in anger and stance defensive as he twisted your wrist in his hand, ultimately causing you to squirm in fear that he would break your bone. Wincing did you no good but it was hard to stop that instinct as you drew a sharp breath in through your nose, eyes widening as you tried desperately to squeak out an excuse, a reason for having done what you did. Nothing managed to come out, you were literally rendered speechless- whether because of the mild pain splitting from your wrist or the fact that Grimmjow had let you touch him for more than a few seconds, both good reasons, but the latter left you yearning for an answer. Which you got, but rather bluntly. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me like that.” He snarled at you, sharp teeth baring themselves right in front of your eyes. “��M not some fuckin’ stray cat that’ll come running to you because they’re hungry.” There was hesitation behind his words, but from his face, you didn't dare say or question anything and felt your body slump back down once he let go of you. He was always so quick to turn on his heel and storm away.

His hollow hole is a completely different ball park. It’s a sensitive area as is, and Grimmjow despises having it touched. It’s an intimate part of his body, and there was really no proper way to describe how it felt for him to have it touched. How empty it felt, unsatisfying at times to know that he’d never be completely full. He explained it once, and was eager to end the conversation. “It feels like a scab.” End of story, you never brought it up again after seeing the deposition it put him in.

Curiosity probably got the best of you once before though, Grimmjow quite literally growling at you the moment he realized where your hand was going. Or at least, that’s what it sounded like to you as he snatched both of your hands with only one of his, tugging you unbelievably close to him so you had no way to escape. Gasping, the Sexta found it hard to contain that spring of joy that hit him at your mere reaction. How… human of you. His hot breath scattered across your face as he spoke to you, no joking in the tone he used, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “I-I just wanted---” “I know what you wanted,” He couldn’t help but smirk at the suggestion of that sentence but the smirk quickly vanished and there was a pure look of what seemed like malice spliced across his already intimidating features, “What makes you think I’d want you to?”

#grimmjow jaegerjaquez #grimmjow x reader #bleach #bleach fanfiction #grimmjow jagerjaquez x reader #anime

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looooooooomis · 3 years ago

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F I N A L G I R L | S E V E N

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t s e v e n | b l o o d

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 6k warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!) lets just say this gif is a teaser as to what takes place in this chapter. major blood kink in this chapter. period play?? lmao sorry about it.

There was a shift after that weekend at Billy’s cabin, and you knew he felt it too.

It was never really that casual between you and Billy, that much you knew, but there was something that changed when the two of you got back to Woodsboro. There was something to be said about being able to openly show affection to the person you loved, to hold them and kiss them in public and you’d gotten that treatment in that little lakeside town. You felt like Billy’s actual girlfriend, not his plaything, not the bitch who was backstabbing her own best friend for a fucking boy, you were it.

And while Billy had always said that you were his girl, you hadn’t truly felt like you were until now.

Which was precisely what made tonight so fucking awkward.

Not only had you been coerced into going to the movies with the gang but, unbeknownst to you, Sid had taken it upon herself to fix you up on a blind date with one of Randy’s annoying friends from the video store.

Why had you agreed to this? You were a cold, calculating bitch behind the scenes when it came to fucking your best friend boyfriend and yet saying ‘no thanks, I’m not up for it tonight’ was beyond you? Were you just plain stupid or a closet masochist that thrived on dicey situations?

Either way, you’d never wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic more than you did tonight because not only were you trapped into an uncomfortable blind date with a guy you were fairly sure was frothing at the mouth at the idea of getting you alone in the car after all of this was said and done but you just so happened to be seated directly next to Billy.

You were smack dab in the middle of hell. Between a man you were fucking, a man you were disgustingly in love with and had just spent a weekend away with and a man you’d just met today but couldn’t stop playing handsy on your lap whenever he thought the others weren’t looking.

But Billy was always looking.

You knew that better than anyone. He had this innate sense of finding you in a crowded room. You could feel the weight of his brown eyes on you nearly every second of the day, soaking you up, taking every inch of you in, no matter who was around and tonight, as your ‘date’ smacked on his popcorn all the while feeling your thigh up any chance he could, Billy’s dept stare was tuned in and you knew it.

This had to have been karma. Karma for going away and having a beautiful weekend away with the guy you loved so wholly. The one whose girlfriend was on the other side of him with her pretty head on his stupid shoulder as you suffered in silence at just how fucking laughable this entire situation was.

“See that actress?” Your date, Anthony, whispered into your hear. He smelled like movie theatre butter. You wanted to scream. “Have you seen any of her other stuff?”

You were watching The Crucible and the actress in question was Winona Ryder. Everyone and their left nut had seen Winona Ryder in at least a dozen movies. Frowning, you blinked across at the man and blinked. “Yeah. I’m familiar with her work.”

Focusing ahead on the movie, you tried your damnedest to focus on what was going on but when you felt his slithery palm slide up your thigh, you were this close to pouring your Coke on his lap. Why the fuck had you agreed to this?

Pushing the man’s hand away as subtly as you could to avoid any unwanted attention from your friends, you bit down on the side of your mouth and heaved a quiet sigh. You deserved this. This was your punishment.

“She’s hot.” Your lovely date quipped, squeezing the area of your thigh just above your knee. “In that goth-girl next door kind of way.”

Was he getting off to Winona Ryder all the while coming on to you? Was he picturing Winona as he squeezed your thigh? You truly didn’t want to find out. Once again, you pushed his hand away and, this time, crossed your legs and leaned into the arm rest you were sharing with Billy.

The move was subtle, and you were barely even touching Billy but you needed to create a distance between yourself and Butter Fingers if it was the last thing you did.

With a subtle nudge to your arm, Billy’s eyes flickered towards you as his brows furrowed in question. The muscle in his jaw was pulsing in his cheek, that you could see even in the darkness of the movie theatre, and there was murder in his eyes as he sized up the man just over your shoulder. It was as though you could feel his blood pressure spike just looking at the guy and, as you held your breath, silently pleading with him not to make a scene that would undoubtedly give the two of you up, those brown eyes slowly found yours.

There was anger in his eyes, a palpable rage, but it was the look of pure despondency in his stare that made your own heart break. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be holding hands with Sid and you weren’t meant to be dealing with the idiot to your right.

How it felt up at the cabin, the freedom of loving each other and holding each other and kissing each other in broad daylight was how it was supposed to be. How love was supposed to feel.

Not this.

You were both hiding in plain sight. Putting on a façade to your friends, to each other whilst in public, and it was in that moment, in the middle of a crowded theatre, looking at each other knowing there wasn’t a damn thing either of you could do about it, that you felt that pain so intensely that it was hard to breathe.

Tears burned behind your eyes and you hated yourself for it.

You weren’t going to cry. You refused to cry over a situation you were willingly putting yourself in. This entire thing could have been avoided had you had a stronger backbone here. You weren’t the victim in this scenario. That was Sid. Sid was the one completely getting fucked over in this situation, not you. You had no damn right to feel this shitty because you were doing it to yourself.

This was just the high of the weekend wearing off and reality settling in. Until circumstances changed, this was your norm.

Swallowing back your nerves, it was all you could do to give Billy a small, barely-there smile before focusing ahead on the movie.

“I’m going to grab us another Coke,” you heard Billy say to Sidney. “Anyone want anything?”

“More popcorn,” Stu waggled his empty bag. “Maybe some Milk Duds, man.”

“Candy.” Tatum mumbled, not taking her eyes off of the screen. “Surprise me, I don’t care what kind.”

Billy nodded and took Stu’s money before he gently nudged you. “You want anything?”

You opened your mouth to speak but was cut off but Anthony. “You mind keeping it down, buddy?” He popped another handful of popcorn in his mouth. “We’re at the movies, not here for snacks.”

It was as though Billy’s wrath was physical as his dark eyes scraped over Anthony’s face. His mouth was pulled into a thin, hard line as Anthony’s pompousness sank in. Why couldn’t it be Randy beside you? Why had that dipshit agreed to take this asshole’s shift in order for you to go on a blind date with him? This entire fiasco could have been avoided had it been Randy.

“Yeah, I could use a drink.” You slinked out of your seat. “I’ll help you carry everything back.”

You didn’t wait for Billy as you marched down the aisle but, as you walked down the stairs and out of the theatre, you weren’t at all surprised to see him broody and annoyed as he followed you out.

“If anyone should be looking like that, it’s me,” you groused, falling in to step beside him as you made your way to the snack bar. “I’m stuck on a date with that asshole.”

“Don’t get me started on that,” he grumbled, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. “I told Sid to leave well enough alone, but she insisted.”

You hummed and lined up at the concession. “Lucky me.”

Again, you felt his stare before you actually lulled your head to the side to face him. Intense, searching eyes sweeping over your features in both concern and possible envy. “One word,” he muttered, stepping closer towards you. Too close. Not because you didn’t want him that close but because you were in public. Sid and Tatum and Stu and fucking Anthony were a stone’s throw away. “One word from you, baby, and I’ll take you home. Fuck that guy.”

You glowered across at him as though he’d grown a second head. “While I appreciate the sentiment, shit for brains, we’re in public right now. Your girlfriend could walk out any second and see or hear you.”

He seemed to mull over your words for a second but didn’t bother moving away from you. “Maybe I don’t care.”

“You do,” you rhymed off, shuffling closer to the front of the snack bar.

He ignored that. “Also, you’re my girlfriend. Stop calling her that.”

This was not a conversation the two of you should have been having in the middle of a fucking movie theatre. Looking across at him, you raised your brows and blew out a puff of air through your lips. Trying to keep up with Billy’s rationale of staying with Sid to ensure he doesn’t hurt her any further after her mother’s death all the while being with you was giving you whiplash. You knew he loved you and, begrudgingly, you loved him right back. And, a part of you knew, that he was struggling with being back in the real world just as much as you were since coming home from the cabin.

But this was not how he should have been handling it. Not out in the open like this. Especially while you were on a triple date with your friends in a theatre down the hall.

“Billy,” you muttered quietly, ensuring no one was listening in, “please let’s talk about this later. Not here. Not now. Let’s just get the fucking concessions and go, okay?”

He licked his lips and you watched his brown eyes flitter down your face before briefly looking at your own lips. He wanted to kiss you and fuck, did you want to be kissed by him.

But that wasn’t the deal.

So, instead, you watched as he took a hesitant step away from you before nodding his head once. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down at his shoes. “Tonight.”

“Sure,” you smirked, “I mean, if I’m not with Anthony, that is.” You almost laughed at how wide his eyes got as you uttered those words. But, when he saw the playfulness in your stare, he visibly relaxed and rolled his eyes as you continued. “The way he’s been mowing down on his popcorn all night has me wet as hell, so I might be busy with him later.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. Then, he turned to you and gave you a crooked smile. One that almost made this horrific ordeal worth it. “You’re a real bitch when you want to be, you know that?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’ve been told.”

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

True to his word, Billy slipped in through your unlocked window a little after midnight that evening with a bag of stale licorice and a drink he’d swiped from the gas station on the way over to your house.

“We didn’t get our movie date.” Was his explanation as he popped The Lost Boys into your VCR and all but hopped in bed beside you. When you’d remained standing by your dresser, eyeing him with both curiosity and sheer happiness radiating off of your face, all you got was a confused look out of Billy before he patted your mattress. “You going to get that ass over here or what?”

So, naturally, you’d joined him.

And it took all of thirty-two minutes of watching the film for the two of you to end up pawing at one another as the tension of the day slowly peeled off of you with every layer of clothing the two of you tore off one another.

In no time, you were both stark naked on your bed as The Lost Boys played on without an audience. All Billy cared about watching was you. Watching you writhe and moan. He could watch you do just about anything, but it was that dreamy look you got on your face whenever he touched you that he had imprinted into his skull. It didn’t even have to be sexual. You just had a certain look whenever the two of you connected, one that he felt but managed to keep stowed away inside of him, but one you expressed. It was happiness.

Pure, unadulterated, bliss.

He knew you. Knew your body in and out, knew how to get you to come undone, knew what made you tick, what made you squirm.

You were muscle memory to him, at this point.

He knew you better than he knew himself.

Which is why, when you subtly stopped him from slipping his fingers inside of you, that Billy’s focus went to your ass. The only time you pushed his hand away after he’d spent minutes sucking and biting and focusing on those perfect tits, was when you were on your period.

So, he didn’t push it.

The two of you had fucked a few times whilst you were on it but you were deadest on limiting that to the lighter days. The very beginning or the end. Never in the middle. But god, did he want to experience the middle days.

You were so fucking horny when you were on your period and why you thought he’d give a shit about how much blood came out of you as the two of you fucked was beyond him.

So, he’d focus on your ass. Something that drove you to the brink of insanity and something that made him harder than anything.

But tonight, it wasn’t enough.

He needed all of you.

Ever since the cabin, he’d needed more of you in his life. It had become nearly impossible for him to show any iota of affection for Sid now that he’d had a taste of what life felt like with you at his side. You were his Final Girl. His everything, if he was being completely honest. And, while he knew he couldn’t open himself up to you to that extent, not yet, he needed you to feel that raging darkness inside of him. Not too much of it, but just enough to gauge your reaction.

If you could handle a shred of it, maybe he could share more of himself with you.

The darker parts.

His hands stilled as they trailed down your body and, as he hovered over you, he bit his lip and slowly drew tiny circles into your hips. “You’re on your period, right?”

You nodded, your lips swollen from the amount of kissing having gone on since popping the movie in. “Yeah, but it’s not a light day.”

He nodded in understanding as he bit his lip. “You think we could try it, anyway?”

Your eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “By not a light day, I mean its kind of heavy, Billy. It’d look like a crime scene in here.”

Billy made sure to keep his face stoic, but the idea of the two of you fucking whilst covered in blood was nearly enough to make him come on the spot.

“Aren’t you curious?” He asked, dipping his head down to lick your painfully hard nipple. “It’s got to feel so fucking good, right?”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed in contentment when he began to suck your tit again. “It’s messy, though.”

“Lucky for you,” he released your nipple and kissed the sensitive flesh of your breast. “I like messy.”

Your head flopped back against the pillow as you thought over his request. I did feel good, but did you want Billy to have to witness you cleaning up a fucking homicide scene once he was through with you?

Blowing out a quiet raspberry, you eyed him with mock suspicion before he gave you those goddamn puppy dog eyes. “Ugh,” you groaned with a laugh, “fine. Let me take this fucking tampon out and I’ll grab a towel to put underneath me because it is heavy, and you will be grossed out.”

Billy’s cock twitched as he watched you roll out of bed before disappearing in the bathroom. Within a few moments, he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you re-emerged with a towel in hand.

He could watch you parade around like that all day. Naked, eyes hooded from desire, nipples and lips red from where his mouth had staked its claim.

You were perfect.

A vision.

You were fucking everything.

“I’ve been wanting to try this with you for a while.” He admitted, watching you carefully roll the towel onto the bed before perching your ass directly on top of it so as to avoid any potential leakage onto your sheets.

“I wish I could say I was shocked.” You teased, laying back down. Spreading your legs, he watched you slip a finger through your folds to tease your clit.

He swallowed as he watched you finger yourself. But then your words sank in and a panic settled in his chest as he swept his eyes up your body to meet your amused stare. “What’s that mean?”

You shrugged so casually as you continued the tirade on your own pussy. “All the scary movies we watch and stuff. You get hard as a rock if there’s a scene with a pretty girl and some blood.”

Billy froze. This was only supposed to be a peek inside of his darkness, not a full-blown window. But you didn’t seem all too fazed by it either, which confused him endlessly.

Rather than deny it, Billy hesitantly reached for your cunt to replace your fingers with his own. He didn’t delve inside of your pussy just yet, just circled your clit the way you’d been doing seconds prior. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He whispered, placing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“Nah,” you hummed, “we’ve all got our kinks, I guess.”

You released a quiet moan as he pinched your clit, but his eyes never left your face. He knew you were talking about blood in respect to the movies, but your casual tone still caught him off guard. There was no shame in it, no doubt. Just an honest to god shrug as he circled your clit with his middle finger.

Testing the waters, Billy slipped his fingers down your pussy so that his thumb coaxed your clit as he slipped two fingers inside of you. At first, it simply felt like you were soaked on account of all of the teasing and, maybe you were, but as he glanced down at the base of his fingers as he pulled them out of you, Billy nearly moaned.

Blood.

Your blood.

All over his fingers, pooling along the top of his palm.

Billy was fascinated. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt blood between his fingers, but not like this. When he’d killed Maureen Prescott, there was so much fucking blood that he’d been sick afterwards. He hadn’t expected that level of destruction but, after puking a few blocks away, he didn’t exactly shy away from it. He thought about it often, thought of the carnage that had surrounded him once he’d finished with Sidney’s mother, thought of the way the blood felt between his fingers, splayed and smattered across every inch of his body.

But this was euphoric.

Because he didn’t have to hurt anybody to feel that warmth on his palm. In fact, as he slowly slipped his fingers inside of your hot cunt, he was doing anything but. You were gyrating into his hand, unknowingly spreading your blood further and it was killing him. He was so fucking hard, too fucking hard, but he didn’t want to rush a damned thing.

He’d thought about this far too often for it to be over so soon.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slipping his hand out of your pussy just long enough to slowly spread your blood down your inner thigh. It left a fine red trail that he had every intention of lapping up in a few seconds if you were to allow it. “You feel so good, baby.”

He’d half expected you to make a comment about making a bigger mess than what your piddly little towel would allow but, as he slowly found your hooded eyes through the dim light of your bedroom, only hunger marred your pretty face.

Desire.

Intrigue.

Leaning in, Billy placed a small kiss to the apple of your cheek as his fingers continued to fuck you. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” you rasped out, leaning your forehead against his as you bit your lip to swallow back a moan. Between your arousal and the blood, the natural lubrication that coated your pussy as he slowly pumped his fingers inside of you all the while rubbing your clit was killing you. “So fucking good, Billy.”

He smirked and quickened his pace on your clit just enough to drive you to madness as he bit down on your earlobe. His breath was hot against your cheek. “I want to taste you tonight.”

Though the promise of his tongue replacing his thumb enticed you, the fact that you were on day two and a half of your period was not a good plan. So why were you intrigued? A part of you wanted to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was but a much larger part of you wanted to see how feral Billy could get where you were concerned.

Torn, you pulled back and searched his eyes. “It’s going to be…messy, Billy.”

His dark chuckle was velvet against your skin. “I already told you,” he curled his fingers inside of you and admired the way your entire body twitched. “I like messy.”

He began to kiss his way down your body. You tried not to get lost in the feeling of his tongue swirling across every inch of your skin on his way down or the way his teeth nipped and bit at your stomach and hips as he positioned himself between your thighs. But mainly, you tried not to focus on how fucking bloody it was between your thighs because you knew that Billy wouldn’t be down there long on account of it.

“You don’t have to do this tonight, Billy,” you tried to reason, chest heaving in anticipation as he settled between your legs.

Something flashed across his face as he held your stare. For a second, you were almost sure he was going to back out and leave well enough alone, but then you watched as the bastard leaned into your pussy and raked his tongue from the base of your pussy right up to your bloodied mound.

He held your stare the entire time.

“I want you like this,” he assured you, yanking you further down the bed so that you were right at the edge. His voice was hoarse and breathy and as you chanced a look down at him through a pair of hooded, drowsy eyes, you watched him pump his cock with his free hand as he licked his lips. “I love you like this.”

You opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he buried his face between your thighs. You gasped at the contact but didn’t shy away from his touch for a single second as he slowly lapped at your core. With the one hand still gripping your hips, holding you firmly against his tongue, you knew there would be bruises where his fingers carved into your flesh, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He was desperate to get you closer into his face and you were desperate to feel that perfect fucking tongue on your pussy.

It was as though he’d been possessed in those few moments. Billy couldn’t get enough of you on a good day but tasting you like this was enough to make Billy wild. Your pussy, the blood mixed with your slick, tasted so fucking good on his tongue. Burying his face further into your folds, he nuzzled at your clit and, now forgetting about his own pulsing cock, pulled you even closer.

Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Billy moaned into your pussy and bit down on your clit just enough to entice a moan that was probably a little too loud for your parents being home. But, he didn’t care. He refused to care in that instance.

All he wanted, all he cared about, was tasting as much of you as humanly possible before making you come on his tongue.

His name tore out of your throat as you gripped his hair between your fingers and pulled. You were being rougher than normal, and he fucking loved it. You were pulling on his hair and bucking into his mouth with such hunger that he could barely breathe but fuck he didn’t care. If this was how he was taken out, so be it.

“Baby,” you whined, voice low. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Your grip on his hair was vice-like as the veins in your neck swelled. With wild, laboured breaths, you found yourself bucking into his mouth as a white-hot orgasm rippled through your entire body. You moaned and groaned and cursed into the bed, but Billy’s mouth was relentless.

It wasn’t until he was absolutely sure you couldn’t take another second of torture, that he pulled away and allowed you to collapse back onto the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips were parted as you attempted to catch your breath. With a quiet chuckle, he kissed his way up your body, grinning against your skin as your legs continued to twitch.

He could feel your blood all over his chin and nose and as he licked it off, using his fingers to swipe at the areas his tongue couldn’t quite reach, Billy was coasting on a high that only you could provide.

“Oh, god,” you buried your face into the pillow with a quiet laugh as you moved to get off the bed. “Hang on, I’ll grab you a towel for your face.”

“No,” Billy shook his head and grabbed for your wrist. “I want to see it.”

You blinked and scraped your eyes along his bloodied face. Your nipples were still rock hard and your cunt was still pulsing on account of his tongue, but it was the look of pure ecstasy on his face that made you clench.

He was being serious.

“Come with me,” he hummed, slipping off of the bed to head towards the small bathroom attached to your room. His fingers threaded through yours as you both walked across your bedroom before flicking the light on.

The vision that he was met with made his cock twitch.

Your blood coated almost everything from his nose down his chin and as you stood beside him, looking at him through the mirror, still fully naked and still housing bloody handprints left behind from his busy hands coating the lower half of your body, Billy had never wanted to bury himself inside of you any more than he did right then and there.

He found your curious stare through the mirror. Your pretty eyes swept over the mess of blood left behind on account of you and as you turned to face him, he found himself hypnotized as you reached out to sweep his hair back and away from his forehead.

“Blood suits you,” you teased with a small smile. “Horrifically enough.”

He said nothing as those brown eyes soaked you in but as he stepped into you, cornering you against the sink counter, the look on his face said everything. He didn’t kiss you though. He seemed to hesitate, as though gauging if you’d kiss him whilst covered in your own menstrual blood. “Is this okay?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted almost sheepishly.

He nuzzled your neck and slipped his knee between your thighs to allow himself better access to your pussy. With his hand wrapped securely around his cock, he slipped the head of his dick along your folds and swallowed hard as he watched your blood coat the head of it. “Fuck,” he whispered as his forehead fell against your own. “You’re going to make me come before I’m even inside of you.”

You were watching his face as he once again slipped the head of his cock through your folds so it teased your clit. His eyes were so dark and there was so much desire in those warm eyes that it almost caught you off guard.

“You’re really into this,” you remarked quietly. When his eyes found yours, you could see blind panic cross over his face as he instinctually took a step away from you. You stopped him before he could think of stopping himself. “Hey,” you cooed, reaching out for his face. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, relax.”

You felt the tension in his shoulders disperse as you played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re too good for me,” he muttered, cradling your face. “You know that?”

“Oh, yeah,” you goaded with a smile. “I know.”

He barked out a quiet laugh and ground his hips into yours. “A smartass, too.”

You hummed as his hands slid down your body to hold you against the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” Billy nipped at your neck.

You leaned back to allow him full access to your neck. “How did I taste?” Your words seemed to make him still as he slowly pulled back to search your eyes. “With the blood. How did it taste?”

The look on Billy’s face was primal as his grip on your hips tightened. Leaning in, he nudged your nose so that your lips were perfectly aligned with his. “Kiss me and find out.”

You weren’t sure at first, but as he closed the distance between you, you found yourself leaning into the kiss both curious and slightly mortified by the taste of your blood on his lips. It was strange and you weren’t sure if you liked it at first, if you were being honest. It was coppery and a little sticky and yet as he walked the two of you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed, you found yourself hungry for more.

With your fingers tangled through his hair you gave it a tug, garnering a low growl that rumbled in his throat as he continued on with the bruising kiss. When the back of his knees hit your bed, the two of you fell into a jumbled mess on your mattress, never once breaking for air as your tongues battled for dominance.

Expertly, knowing the way your body moved better than anyone, Billy moved you in such a way that he was sitting up in the middle of your bed as you straddled his lap. And as you lowered yourself onto his pulsing cock, the gruff low moan that tore out of his lips was enough to kill you.

His large hands splayed out across your back, guiding you further into his hungry mouth as your bleeding cunt teased him beyond belief. You were so wet and with every twist of your hips and every gentle moan, he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything else besides just how fucking good you felt.

Digging your nails into his shoulders, blood slowly pooled in the wake of your crescent moon shaped nail markings. He hissed at the sensation and squeezed your tits rather roughly as he tried to stop himself from coming right then and there.

But then you lowered your lips onto his shoulders and he felt your hot tongue trace over every last cut and he almost lost it. There you were, with dried blood all over your chin and parts of your cheeks from having kissed him after going down on you, licking the blood that gathered along his shoulders.

He was in a state of euphoria.

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He pushed out, revelling in the feel of how warm and wet your pussy felt.

Rather than say a word, all you did was bite down on the reddened area of his shoulder as you quickened your pace on his dick.

Drawing more blood.

Licking up more of his blood.

Something in him snapped to life in that instance. An almost ancient need bubbled to the surface as he held you there against him. Your tits bounced as you writhed on top of him and as he began to meet you halfway with violent, earth shattering thrusts, the outside world ceased to exist.

The sound of his balls hitting your sopping pussy combined with the sound of your wetness, both slick and blood, squelching all around the two of you was all that surrounded you as you whined out his name. You could barely breathe as he pounded into you, barely function.

“Billy, fuck, I—”

His mouth buried your words with another hungry kiss. You were both breathless and desperate to be as close to the other as humanly possible as you sat on your bed, fucking each other raw. His tongue slid along your bottom lip, gently tugging at it as his forehead fell against your own.

There was a shift after the cabin that you’d both felt inside of you, but there was a shift in the air tonight, as well. An unspoken trust, of sorts, that went beyond anything the two of you were prepared for.

His hips bucked into yours one final time before he came undone inside of you. A flood of warmth settled in your belly as he came and as his thumb continued to circle your clit, rubbing and pinching at it every step of the way, you soon followed suit.

With one last shaky pump, Billy held you there as he slowly pulled out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheek, down your neck, and along your shoulder before his eyes found yours once again.

His thumb skirted across the apple of your cheek. “You’re my girl,” he whispered, revelling in just how fucking gorgeous you looked in that instance. “You know that?”

“I do,” you affirmed, kissing him softly. “You’re helping me clean my fucking bedsheets in the morning,” you muttered, “do you know that?”

Despite everything, Billy found himself smiling across at you before glancing down at the bloody mess of your sheets. “Yeah,” he chuckled, “I do.”

“Good,” you gently smacked his cheek and crawled off of your bed towards the bathroom.

“Where you going?” He asked, watching your naked body pad out of the room.

“Shower,” you merely said before popping your head around the corner. “Care to join me?”

Billy was at your side within the blink of an eye.

hehehehehehehe let me know if yall like it

1K notes · View notes

unloved-cadillac · 3 years ago

Note

Hello there! I love your work, and I was hoping if I can request a Levi x Reader where the reader is going through a terrible sickness and there's a likely chance they'll die. But Levi's there for her and refusing her to die, so he's doing all he can do to keep them alive.

C/n: loved writing this! Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy 🤍

——————————————————————————

Painful Resistance. (Levi x Reader)

Y/n sat next to Levi and the other Vets as supper was served. The day was long but worth it since Erwin got a huge supply of meat for the Survey Corps. Everyone drank, ate and laughed while they chatted and enjoyed the night.

Levi took a sip of his tea and placed his cup down then reached over and grasped Y/n’s hand. He suddenly turned and looked at her. “Y/n? Are you okay? You’re burning up.” Levi asks as he checks her temperature. “I..don’t know. I’ve been like this since the morning.” She answers and blinks away the blurriness that formed in her eyes. “You don’t look too good, Y/n.” Mike says and Y/n holds her head. “Levi, this headache is killing me.” She whispers and Levi gulps slightly. “It’s ok. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He gets up with her and holds her as they begin to walk.

Y/n abruptly stopped and held Levi’s bicep tightly. “Y/n?” She sighs and sways forward, eyes rolling back and collapsed. Luckily, Levi caught her before she hit the floor and yelled for Hange.

~~~~

“A fever?” Levi asks and Hange with Moblit nods. “Levi, it’s not an ordinary one. This has been building up for weeks and it caused a type of fever that…it’s fatal, Levi.” Hange sighs and Levi shakes his head. “No. No, I don’t believe you. She can’t be that sick. The fever will go down, right? Right?! Hange!” Levi yells and Hange puts her head down.

“Captain, right now all we can do is watch over her. Make sure she doesn’t spike in temp or suddenly drop. She needs to be in a special room.” Moblit butts in.

“Would I be able to be with her?” Levi asks, stepping forward in a threatening manner.

“Yes, but sir-..”

“No buts. She’s my wife and I won’t be taking any excuses. Just..fix her. Do something.”

~~~~

Y/n was moved to a cooler wing of the castle with large windows and the best care. Levi made sure he got her the best doctors Paradis could offer, he even stropped so low into using his title of Humanity’s Strongest to get them.

He didn’t care. He just wanted Y/n to be okay.

Right now, it’s been four weeks since Y/n slipped into a coma and gave the doctors a health scare. It was terrifying because she had to incubated. Levi stood and watch in horror as they shoved the rod into his wife’s throat and almost threw up at the sight. Not in disgust, but in shock and scare.

Levi stayed with her all this time, Erwin being kind enough to sign him off until Y/n woke up, and in that time she got worse. The color in her cheeks started to disappear and her face falling. She lost so much of weight. Her collarbones being prominent and cheeks hollowing. It reminded him…it made him remember of how he watched his mother slowly die.

He shook his head and held Y/n’s hand as he cried. “This can’t be happening. Not again. Please.” He whispers as he grip tightens. Levi looked at her sleeping face and kissed the back of her hand. “Don’t do this, Y/n. You can’t leave. Not now. Not ever. You promised, idiot. You promised me. Fight. Please,” he bows his head as he continues,

“Come back to me.”

~~~~

Days later, a new doctor was brought to Y/n and Levi looked at her. “You are?” He asks, voice hoarse from not being used in so long. “Dr Jean Francis. I’ve been called by Hange Zoe to see to a Mrs Ackerman. I take it that you are Mr Ackerman.” She sticks out a hand to shake but Levi doesn’t leave his wife’s side.

Dr Francis smiles and pulls her hand back. “Ok. Sir, I’m here to help. If I’ve been called that means my cousin couldn’t and it’s that serious. So please, let me.” She says in a stern voice as she puts on latex gloves.

“Do what you have to do to save her.” Levi says after a long silence and Dr Francis nods. “I’m going to check her vitals really quick.” She says and begins her check up in Y/n.

“Blood pressure: good. Heart rate: stable. Temperature…mm.” Dr Francis mumbles and Levi picks up on her resistance. “What is it?”

“Her temperature appears to be normal. So what…” suddenly, the machines start to rapidly beep and Levi jumps up. Nurses and doctors rush in and Levi is pushed outside. “Levi!” Hange yells as she runs to him. “What happened?” Hange looks inside to see everyone around Y/n and Levi just stares in shock.

“I…I don’t know.”

~~~~

“A bug? What do you mean a big?” Levi asks as he crosses his arms.

“This particular bug is only found in river water. It’s one that instantly seeks refuge in the internal organs. It was hard for Hange and the rest to find because it’s symptoms make it seem as one of that a fever.” Dr Francis explains and Levi grips his head. “What is it?” Hange asks Levi.

“It’s my fault. That one day, she was thirsty while we were out for a walk. She drank the water…I knew I should have stopped her. Fuck.” Levi groans and cups his face.

“It’s no ones fault except for the bug’s.” Dr Francis assures the worried man.

“Is there a cure, Jean?” Hange asks her.

“Yes. But, it’s a work in progress. The chances of Y/n surviving is..a 35% chance. I’m sorry, Levi.”

Levi shakes his head and looks at Francis. “You bring that cure here. I’ll pay however much, just help her.”

“Levi, you got to understand, it’s a work in progress. It could do more harm than good-…”

“I DONT CARE!” He yells and Francis sighs. “Bring me that cure. I’m not losing her too.” Levi concludes and head aback into the room where Y/n laid.

Francis rubs her temple and Hange lays a hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Bring it. It’s the best option we have right now.”

~~~~

When Francis brought the cure, she sat next to Y/n and prepared her for the multiple injections. “We won’t see results instantly. It’ll take a while. A week at minimum. It’s not going to be easy either. It’s painful, her heart will start to beat faster it will be a scary experience.” She says, telling Levi. “Ok.” Is all he replies.

Once Y/n was injected, Levi slept next to her. “I know you can hear me, Y/n. I know that you’re just pretending. But I’ll let you play for now. Promise you’ll wake up? Doc says that it’s going to hurt. I know I vowed to never hurt you but I have to do this, baby. When you wake, you can swear me, slap me, whatever. But I want you awake. Just bare with it, you’ve been through worse. I know.” He kisses her forehead and continues,

“I love you, Y/n. So much. Wake up soon, alright?”

~~~~

It’s as if Levi was living in hell.

Y/n got so much worse than before. Her skin turning dark and bruises formed and he was so angry. He shouldn’t have done this. If he knew it was going to be this bad he wouldn’t have said anything.

It’s been a week and a half since the cure was injected into Y/n and Francis was explaining what might happen. “It will be a shock factor. Once she gets up, she will throw up all types of bile which is the bug and other impurities. The incubator isn’t necessary now so that’s good.” She notes and Levi just stares at Y/n’s face.

Dr Francis didn’t want to say anything further so she bid farewell after injecting morphine into Y/n’s veins.

That night, while everyone slept including Levi, Y/n sprung out of bed and threw up all over the bed. Levi slept on the chair and was awoken by her. His eyes widened as he quickly gave her a small bag. Y/n threw up and Francis and Hange entered the room.

“Y/n!” Hange yells and runs to her side and rubs her back. When Y/n was done, she looked up and then at Levi. She tried to speak but Levi hushed her. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t speak. You’re okay.” Whether he was assuring her or him was a mystery but his love came back.

When Y/n started to get better, Levi never left her. “I love you, Levi. Thank you.” She says and he grips her hand. “Say it again.” He says and she chuckles.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you!”

Levi smiles and laid next to her as she drifted off to sleep. The painful resistance she had just to come back to him was something he would always be grateful for. Just to know that she was here, breathing, talking, laughing with him made Levi at ease.

Kuchel watched her son cuddle his wife as she stood at the foot of the bed. She smiles and disappears. Levi looks up and his eyes search the room. He furrows his eyebrows but ends up going back to sleep with Y/n.

——————————————————————————

“W.D.Y.W.F.M?”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

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reuinx · 3 years ago

Text

Red Lights (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You've been having a tough time lately. It's Yelena's goal to brighten up your day. The day takes the form of an afternoon spent in Yelena's car teasing, laughing, and singing. It looked like the day couldn't possibly get any better until tragedy struck.

Prompt by Anon ask: “Kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms but reader is dying please and thank you “

Word Count: 2,047

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood (Gore kept extremely minimal), tragic accident resulting in death.

Translations: Malishka (Baby), Dorogoy (Love)

Masterlist

Have you ever had those days when nothing goes right? You miss the bus, you say the wrong thing, you lose your temper, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you could have done differently? It was one of those days. Using this logic, you are faced with a dilemma - you don't want to stay at home, but you don't want to stay alone either. You tentatively texted Yelena to see if she was free; she was. Summer heat caressed your exposed arms, leaving you with sun-kissed skin.

Despite the heat of the summer, you kicked pebbles across the ground like a child. The sound of her approaching car preceded your sight. The noise of her exhaust was followed by the blaring of Babooshka by the brilliant Kate Bush on her radio. Typical Yelena. She was driving her obnoxious yellow Ford Mustang; it was convertible. She made sure she knew that. It was her pride and joy, and she loved nothing more than it; well, she did love something more than that car, you.

Parking along the footpath, she had the roof down, and her blonde hair was flowing. While one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was hanging outside her window. In a pure white shirt, she exposed the muscles tense in her arm. Her sunglasses slowly slipped down the bridge of her nose as she peered over at you. She was undressing you with her eyes. She was chewing gum; she moved her lips slowly to match her motion.

“Still moody are we, Malishka?” Yelena called out from her car. The smile on her face was always devilish. Even though today didn't go as planned, you felt like it would be heaven on earth with Yelena.

“No”, You replied flatly as Yelena pushed her sunglasses back up to hide her eyes; she turned to face straight ahead of her as you made your way towards the car.

“I’m going to keep doing it until you admit you’re moody.”

“Keep doing wha-“ Before you could finish, She shoved her hand down on the horn as the already noisy auto began honking. Those who passed by started looking at the car with wonder. Redness flushed your face as you raced to the car.

“Yelena! Stop!”

“Mhm?”

“I’m not-“ You swiftly shook your head as the horn continued its outcry. She was stubborn, but so were you. She always won; there was no fighting with Yelena.

“I’m moody!” The moment you admitted it, she took her hand off the horn, resting her head back against the headrest as she stared up at you with a toothy grin.

“God, I hate you. You know that right?”

“Nah, you love me actually.” She was right about that. Yelena leaned across to open the door for you as you made your way to the passenger side. After entering, you shut the door behind you and automatically turned down the radio.

“Trying to go deaf are you?”

“Mhm?”

“I said are you trying to go deaf?”

“What?”

“I said- Oh forget it! Stop teasing me. I’m just looking after you!”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Feels like it sometimes, El.”

“Ha,” Yelena grumbled. Your laughter today was finally made possible because of Yelena's reaction. You were comforted by her. Talking to your person always made your worries go away. Yelena tutted and pulled your seatbelt into the latch plate as she leaned over your body, grasping your belt to make sure it was secure. Yelena put the car into gear as it began to move, the engine rumbling to life as she drove at the appropriate speed. She would never dream of speeding with you in the car.

“Do you want to talk about today?”

“No no, it was just one of those days.”

“Good, I don’t have to kill anyone...”

“No killing anyone.”

“Unless…”

“No”, You shushed her as you glanced at her with the corner of your eye; Yelena was smiling. She looked genuinely happy, which was a relief to you. She radiated happiness onto you; it was impossible to escape.

“It’s a beach day today.” The comment came from Yelena.

“Are you going to throw me in?”

“Actually… I’m still debating it.”

“What’s the pros and cons?”

“Con is that you’re pissed.”

“What’s the pro?”

“It will make you laugh.” You hadn't encountered anyone with the same kind of personality as her. Selflessness characterized her. Her heart was pure gold. Although she was tough, when her walls were broken, she became the softest person you'd ever met. It was easy to love her. She reached over for your hand; she took it in her hand before placing your hand on the clutch. To change gears, she held her hand yours, moving your hand in the desired direction. She was reluctant to let go but eventually cleared her throat to ask. Freeing your hand.

“Will you change the CD, Dorogoy?”

With ease, you opened the glovebox and located the CD binder. The 2000s saw a lot of popularity with these. Not now. Yelena's argument "It can fit so many CD's in it!" She wasn't wrong. It did. There was tons of CD's from all different genres in it. She bought CDs of the songs you played on your phone, not just the ones she liked. Even though she hid it from you, you started to notice when her binder began to fill up. You flicked through the CD’s until one caught your attention. As you saw a blank CD with writing on it, you paused. "For You" is spelled in Yelena's impeccable handwriting. While her eyes rested on the road, you turned to look at her, returning your focus to the CD. Yelena was smiling softly at you while you were busy changing CDs.

“You made this for me?”

“I did. I wanted to make you a playlist and well, there’s no Bluetooth so I did the best I can.”

“You’re too sweet. But… You do know downloading music and burning it on a CD is pretty illegal.”

“If your worrying over me downloading music, you should see what else I do” Yelena released a chuckle as the music played from the radio. You leaned over as you adjusted the volume up as the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac came through.

“I know you like them wood people”, Yelena murmured under her breath. Suddenly, you felt the excitement in your stomach rise. What else was on this CD? We get so caught up in the big things when we fall in love with someone. The little things are always the most important. You weren't just going to sing; you were going to perform as well. As you sang at the top of your lungs, you began to sway in your chair.

“And if you don't love me now -“ Your hand clenched as if it was holding an invisible microphone as you held it to Yelena’s lips. She smiled, licking her lips as she finished the lyric.

“You will never love me again.” She sang without hesitation, and while her voice is usually harsh, it was smooth and soft this time. When you heard her singing, you burst into laughter and clapped your hands in glee. The music picked up, and your hands moved with the lyrics. You didn't miss a word. Yelena was beginning to tap with the beat of the song on the steering wheel, laughing at how passionate you had gotten.

“I could listen to you forever.”

“Unlucky for you, you have forever with me”, You chirped out as Yelena frowned, turning her head quickly to glance at you.

“Why would that make me unlucky?”

“I’m a pain in the ass.”

“True but you’re my pain in the ass” She sounded more and more sincere with every word she said. Your singing continued unabated. As soon as the next red light came on, Yelena slowed her car down to a stop. It was now possible to see the beach. You were too busy performing for nobody to notice that Yelena was watching you. When she saw you happy, her eyes glowed with childhood excitement. All she wanted was for you to be satisfied. Because you were focused on the big things like the beach, you missed the little things like how Yelena looked at you. Anyone would kill for the kind of look she gave you. Yelena’s expression suddenly changed when you looked at her, her face filled with horror. She wasn’t making a face at you but something behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, everything went black. You lost all sense of time and purpose of self. Feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, you thought it overtake you. You felt alone. Yelena? Where was Yelena? Was Yelena okay? Had you fallen asleep? There was a noticeable pressure in your chest, almost as if it was being squeezed. You felt your lips tingle, and your lungs fill with air.

"Hey!" A distorted voice echoed inside your head, and you couldn't understand what was being said or even who it was?

"Wake up! Please wake up!" It was beginning to become more legible until a voice broke through the silence.

"Malishika!" Yelena, it was Yelena.

The world was blurry as your eyes snapped open. As you blinked rapidly, flashing lights obscured your view of the figure above you.

"Stay with me, stay with me please." You now knew what the pressure on your chest was; Yelena had been pressing hard and fast on the center of your chest. It was her rescue breaths that tingled your lips. The haze in your vision was clearing as you could see Yelena. It was evident from her face that she had been crying. Spikes of blood could be seen on her face as sweat ran down her forehead. It wasn't her blood. It was yours.

In your disorientation, you did not know where you were. You were lying on the road when you suddenly remembered being in the car. Your eyes focused on Yelena's car as you tilted your head to look past her. Now you know what Yelena saw behind you. As you were sitting on the passenger side, a car ploughed straight into you through the red light. Yelena must have rescued you from the wreck. With growing dizziness and fatigue, your eyes began to flicker shut. The feeling of Yelena grasping your cheeks caused your eyes to dart open.

"Don't you dare close your eyes on me. I've lost everyone, I can't lose you too. I just can't. Please. Please don't go anywhere.. Just stay. Please just stay. I need you, god I need you. Please." She was begging you, pleading with you. The moment you tried to move, your body refused to react; you were powerless. With one hand on your stomach, she firmly grasped it. It was now clear that her previously pristine white t-shirt was heavily stained red. You felt queasy thinking that was yours.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay baby. It's okay." You managed to whisper out as your voice was weak.

"It's not okay, it's really not okay. I don't know what to do! I can't stop the bleeding" Yelena's voice was firm, her jaw extending with the words she spoke as she tried to contain herself. She sobbed, her eyes flicking upward.

"It's okay, El. You can stop. Just stop."

"Don't fucking say that, don't ever fucking say that. You aren't going anywhere, you aren't. This is not a goodbye! Don't give me that bullshit. The paramedics will be here soon, they will! " She snapped.

"Baby, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Yelena? Do you hear me? "I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I love you. God, I love you. Don't forget that, you hear me?" Yelena dipped her head down as she slowly pressed her lips against your forehead. She placed her free hand into your locks of hair as she slowly began to run her fingers through the strands of your hair.

"Baby?" She called out one last time. Your eyes locked onto her green eyes, admiring them one last time. The world around you faded to grey; the last thing you heard was Yelena's scream.

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awheckery · 3 years ago

Text

so. uh.

cut for frank discussion of chronic illness and the serious failures of the american healthcare system. tw for fatphobia and gaslighting.

Last July, I got sick. It wasn’t too bad at first: some fatigue, body aches and a slightly elevated temp, until suddenly it was bad and I wound up in the ER. It took three rounds of steroids, a round of antibiotics and a more powerful inhaler to get my feet back under me, but I never fully recovered.

I didn’t talk about it here, except for answering an ask in October and blaming my lack of creative output on depression. It really, really wasn’t depression; it was my health progressively collapsing, one system after another until the avalanche of symptoms that flattened me just after New Year’s.

For the last four months, I’ve spiked a fever over 100°F nearly every single day. My joints hurt. My knuckles are knobbly and swollen, and occasionally my fingers are so painful and weak I’ve had to literally tape my pen to my hand at work. I get rashes at random that itch so badly I claw myself bloody. I overheat and have hot flashes in temperate rooms. The skin on my face and neck and shoulders turns red and hot to the touch, like I’m burning for hours with no immediately discernible provocation.

Some days, I wake up and I don’t have the strength to get out of bed. Some days I can’t wake up at all. I’ve slept through deafening alarms for hours, long enough for my phone battery to run out and die. I can only stand up for ten minutes a day without being hobbled by the effort, and every extra minute beyond that I pay for in hours spent bedbound by exhaustion and pain.

I keep losing words. I’ll arrive at the middle of a sentence and stumble to a halt, because the word I need isn’t there. It’s not true aphasia, and it’s not all the time. I comprehend written and verbal communication perfectly well, but I can’t get my own thoughts out without tripping over them.

I am, to quote a friend attending school to be a nurse practitioner, “a textbook case for SLE,” and I agree, but somehow I can’t pay a doctor to treat me seriously.

In January, I was referred to a rheumatologist after the bloodwork my PCP ordered indicated I had autoimmune activity of some kind.

To date, that’s my only test for anything that’s come out definitively positive for any kind of disease state at all. Ever. I tested negative for celiac disease on a technicality nine years ago, despite how specifically and intensely sick gluten makes me, so I was dismayed but not too surprised when follow-up bloodwork for lupus came back just barely inside the range of “normal.” Despite that, I wasn’t prepared to be jerked around as much as I have been.

The first rheumatologist I saw, back at the end of January, had barely been in the exam room for thirty seconds when I could see he’d already made up his mind about me. He was dismissive and perfunctory and condescending when he told me that “plenty of perfectly healthy people have positive ANA results,” and he referred me back to my PCP for an exercise program and antidepressants to treat my “fibromyalgia.”

Putting aside that I’m not a “perfectly healthy person,” I’m a Fat Lady living in America, and I’ve experienced medical fatphobia for decades at this point. You learn the key words and phrases pretty quickly, and “exercise program” has never not been a euphemism for “weight loss.” (Which is heavily ironic in this particular situation, because before I was Fat, I walked 2-3 miles a day for funsies and spent 15-20 hours in the gym every week. I only stopped because I somehow shredded both my ACLs in one summer. I’d love to get back to that if a rheumatologist could help me figure out how to be active and uninjured at the same time.)

I was frustrated after that first appointment, enough to request a referral to one of the best teaching hospitals in the country. Why not go to the best, right? There was a five month wait for an appointment, but I am stubborn, and I made use of the time by documenting every bullshit symptom my body threw at me. I have a daily symptom journal, full of subjective entries like my pain and fatigue levels, as well as objective entries like daily temperature changes and photos of my rashes and my burning face and my goddamn mouth ulcers.

I thought I had enough logged to be impossible to ignore, and then I saw the second rheumatologist three weeks ago, and the first sentence out of her mouth was the beginning of an interrogation on my blood pressure, and whether I was taking medication or if I was on a fucking exercise program for it. I tried to get the appointment back on track by sharing my symptom diary, and she turned back to my just-under-the-wire test results, and told me, “many healthy people have positive ANA results, it doesn’t mean anything without other positive test results for specific conditions.”

I said, “Healthy people don’t run a fever for months.”

And then she told me that a "fever is not associated with any of the conditions a rheumatologist treats." I was so startled by the confidence and authority with which she stated the lie that I was unable to speak to rouse a defense or contribute anything else for the rest of the appointment. After an insultingly brief examination, in which I never took my face mask off and she declined to look at any of my photos, she said that she “didn’t see anything that could be rheumatologically wrong with me.”

I asked her what she thought could be wrong with me, and she grudgingly admitted it’s possible, though rare to have an autoimmune disease and test negative for everything, so she would order more tests and refer me to appropriate specialists for my various symptoms. She ordered a referral to an infectious disease specialist for my fevers, and a referral to a dermatologist for my “rosacea” (that she’s assuming I have, because I would like to again note she did not see it, at no point did she actually look at my face or a photo of it), and a referral to an ENT for a salivary gland biopsy for my dry mouth, and a referral to a neurologist for my “stroke-like” memory and speech problems.

It was, all told, an unbearably shitty appointment. I cried in my car for an hour in the hospital parking garage so I wouldn’t do anything impulsive like lying down in traffic, and then I went home, cried some more, and went to bed for three days.

On the fourth day, I woke up enraged. It’s one thing to be blown off by a doctor when you’re just reporting symptoms without proof, it’s a wholly different thing for a doctor to ignore your proof and lie about diagnostic criteria to your face.

It’s hard enough not to think you’re crazy when your test results come back negative over and over; it’s that much harder after being told that your major concrete measurable symptom is diagnostically irrelevant, when it really, really isn’t.

(for the record, just going off the symptoms I can concretely prove I’ve experienced in the last week alone, I land a 16 on this chart, which is the most up-to-date, widely agreed-upon diagnostic criteria)

I have decided, for the moment, to play ball. I don’t have the energy to jump through all the hoops this rheumatologist wants, but I'm angry enough to drag myself through them. Tomorrow I’m supposed to see the infectious diseases specialist. On Wednesday I see the dermatologist. In two weeks I see the ENT, and I’ve got a neurology appointment tentatively scheduled for December.

I’m going to be blisteringly forthright with all of these doctors about why I’m there, and that I’m looking to exclude diagnoses other than the lupus I pretty obviously have. (Except with the ENT. Apparently they treat allergies, and I’d like to be able to go outside long enough to walk a dog, someday.)

I’m supposed to see this rheumatologist again at the end of November. Depending on how this week’s appointments go, I’m aiming to either move up my appointment with her when one becomes available, or just send a firm yet diplomatic email asking why the diagnostic criteria apply to everyone but me.

If anybody else has gotten through this fucking nightmare successfully, I’m open to suggestions, it’s not like it can get worse at this point.

#long post #sufferpunk life #chronic illness #chronic pain #sle #lupus #aka why I've gotten nothing interesting or creative done since last year #fml

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noaltbruh · 3 years ago

Note

I hope this follows the rules! But is it okay if I request a scenario where Giorno has a nightmare of turning into Diavolo and S/O comforts him when he wakes up?

My first request in so long, what an honor!

You're surely a fan of this scenario, I've seen you requesting it quite a lot of times.

Either way, let's get into it!

Esci dalla mia testa

06/04/2004

Midnight had just struck, it had already been three years.

Three years since Giovanna had become the new Don of Passione, and since the former had been punished for his actions.

But in reality, time had lost meaning to the young boy years ago. Everything he did, it felt so...Mechanic, so frivolous, simply keeping track of the days in order not to forget an important reunion.

He buried himself under thousands of piles of work, which only seemed to grow bigger and bigger with every day that passed. This was supposed to be his dream, his greatest goal, and he had reached it at such a young age.

But then...Why did he feel so empty?

He was supposed to be happy, after all the sacrifices that had been made to arrive so far, he had to be grateful for everything that's been given to him.

But he couldn't be, because those sacrifices were not his own, because innocent lives had been taken away, because he had come.

He truly was no different than the man whom he had condemned to suffer for all eternity. But he had to clinch his teeth, and keep on going with his head high, for the few people that were still by his side. Most importantly, for his partner.

As everyone around him had found a significant other, pressured by his best friend, he had decided to reluctantly indulge in this so called 'romance'.

And when you two finally met, he felt like a tiny fickle of faith had risen inside of his heart again.

You listened to him, to his struggles, to his doubts, to each one of his complaints like the were the only worries in the world. He failed to express how much you meant to him, after those...'Accidents', he had become even more close-up about his feelings.

You were very well aware of his workaholic tendencies, as most nights, you were the one to ask him to put down all the documents and get some rest

And this...Was one of those.

As you rapidly fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from your own day, you felt a soft hand gently caressing your forehead. You were so warm and comforting, like a puppy, the only one able to give him hope in this twisted world.

But sadly, your presence could not magically make all his guilt and insecurities go away, and he had accepted that.

After contemplating your dreaming figure for a minute, he slowly closed his eyes, wishing to escape, just for a short while, from all those crushing responsibilities and expectations.

His consciousness started to slip away, he felt ready to conclude another day. Until, he heard whispering. Weak, confused, peculiar sounds, he could not understand a word of what those voices were trying to tell him, they were too far from the boy.

But they wouldn't stop. Delicate, constant and unbearable like the sound of a drip of water falling into a sink. They were playing with the Don's patience, a sleeping lion that should not disturbed, unless you wanted to be torn to pieces.

His mind immediately connected the situation to a possible Stand attack, nothing out of his normality, per se, but he was not concerned for himself. You were still peacefully resting, clinging to your sheets, it was a quite cold night. He wouldn't have let a single soul cause any harm to his darling, she was his only true happiness, his sunshine.

In the moment he stepped outside of the bedroom, what he was faced with sent a frozen shiver down his spine, as he brought his hand to his chest, to control his heartbeat.

There were four doors, floating in absolute darkness. A weak stream of light, that seemed to be originated from nothingness, illuminated each one of them singularly.

The whispering got louder and louder, faint giggles could occasionally be heard. The young one turned around to look at the entrance of this cursed place, the one he had just walked through.

But there was nothing there.

And so, like a captured prey that had nothing left to lose, he ventured himself into the first door, only to be met with a monochromatic version of Fugo. He was breathing heavily, desperately sobbing and all curled up on himself, on the shore of the same place where the rest of the gang had decided to betray Passione.

Giorno was standing on top of the water, unable to move a single inch of his body.

"Look at what you did"

A deep voice murmured in his ear. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one he wished he could have erased from his memories, that infected his mind and was more deadly than the sobbing boy's stand.

Diavolo.

"Me? Fugo chose not to leave, it was his own fault if-"

"If he was abandoned by everyone he loved? Do you have any idea of how selfish it sounds?"

The boy hesitated for a brief moment, staring at those warm tears falling into the canal.

"It was just...A temporary matter, he rejoined Passione, he's doing better now"

"My, it must have surely been fun to prove your loyalty to someone who caused the death of half of the people you cared about, after refusing to participate in his little suicide mission"

The blond's legs started to tremble, mantainig his composure was starting to look impossible.

"They...They didn't die because of me, they sacrificed themselves for a noble cause, for making Italy a better place, they wished it as much as I did"

The man contained his laughter, then he continued.

"Is that so? Why don't say that in their faces then?"

The image of the lonely boy disappeared, together with everything in the room. Giorno was back to that black space, but the door was now missing.

And the next one...Had nothing better reserved for him.

He found himself in the island of Sardegna, the only sound that could be heard were the small waves that met with the coast.

He knew perfectly why he was here. He took a closer look at the seaside, there were some footsteps printed on it. He felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of where they would have brought him.

Abbacchio's lifeless body was laying on top of a rock, surrounded by dead flowers. His entire torso had been torn apart, and yet... His corpse was smiling. A tiny, melancholic smile on his purple lips.

"Do you still have the courage to repeat what you said?"

Diavolo began, in a mocking tone.

"When he became part of the Organization, he was at his lowest, he had nowhere else to go, every path he took brought him nothing but sorrow and disappointment. The only thing that gave him comfort was following Bucciarati...And so, with that excuse, I transformed him in one of minions"

The thought of calling out Gold Experience hit Giorno's mind, but he knew that there was no point of lying to himself. The albino was gone, his soul had left his body long ago.

"I don't need you to tell me just how disgusting you are"

He said, his voice was filled with a suffocated rage, as he knelt over to look closer at his former companion.

"Abbacchio couldn't have cared less about killing me, he came with you because Bucciarati did, because he so desperately wanted to follow him, he felt like scum at the thought of no longer having him in his life"

The boy with emerald eyes felt an hand touching him on his shoulder, but there was no one there, except for himself.

"You exploited his dependence from the man, and used at your advantage, just as I did"

He stopped for a brief moment, enjoying the desperation in the other's eyes.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance

And with that, the second room disappeared as well. The boy contemplated whether to remain in that hellish void or to move forward, the image of what was waiting on the other side hurt way too much, his juvenile soul was starting to crush.

But he couldn't remain there, it would have meant giving up to Diavolo's twisted games, seeing him break down was exactly what he was waiting for.

He turned the doorknob, when he felt something humid staining his clothes: there was fresh blood streaming from his lady bug pins. The trail that it formed on the ground invited him to follow its path. He knew he couldn't decline, none of what he wanted seemed to matter in this place.

A metallic railing stood in front of him, his entire pins bled so much to the point of consuming themselves. An horrific scream coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time echoed through the room, as he directed his gaze to the top of the grey construction.

"What a shame...Oh well, he was the most disposable member of the team anyway"

Narancia's corpse was resting among dozens of spikes, his faded orange bandage slipped from his dark hair, landing right next to Giorno's feet.

"Oh Narancia...So young, so naive, just another victim of this unfair world. That's what you're thinking, isn't that right, Giovanna?"

"This is why people like him should not be involved in this business..."

"Mh? And why is that? Childish minds are the easiest to manipulate"

Ignoring his last statement, the other leaned down to pick up the bandage, but his hand went through it. His body was starting to feel dizzy, like it belonged to somebody else.

"Not answering won't make me go away, the damage has already been done, after all"

"Narancia should have NEVER joined Passione in the first place. He could have gone to school...Have a normal life, but-"

"But he died for your cause before he could. What he said before I activated King Crimson melted my heart a little, how cute...He really trusted you that much to the point of thinking that he would have come out of it alive"

The railing emanated a cracking sound. For a second, he was afraid it would have fallen off, causing him to get impaled as well.

"I took away his chance of living an happy, standard life when he decided to work for me, and you did the same, allowing him to come along with the rest of your team"

The small boy suddenly faded away, together with the rest.

"But at least, he didn't die under my guidance"

At last, there it was: only one room left. Despite how deeply he cared about each one of his former team members, the premonition of what would have come next was more painful than everything he's seen so far altogether.

He sat down, staring at the door from a distance, his eyes emptier than the ones of his old allies. They say that eyes are the window of the soul, and nothing else could have been used to describe his inner turmoil. Nothing but a faded, dull green, testimony of all his battle scars and the survivor guilt that he tried so much to repress.

Perhaps his eternal punishment had arrived: having the chance to confront his inner demons, to move on, to show how fearless he was.

...But never truly grasping the idea of freedom, never facing and accepting what really happened, he was never given the time to. So much had oppressed him all at once, he couldn't keep up with it.

He was a child, a child that had to grow too fast.

But then, someone came out of the door. A bittersweet figment of his imagination, that made his heart stop beating for a second.

The one he hadn't seen in years, the one he had tried to subdue the most, the one that showed him for the first time in his life what love was, stood in front of him. There was no hole in his chest, no sign of blood or wounds, a reassuring smile accompanied his face, as he held out his hand to the grieving kid.

"What are you doing all alone in here? The others are worried for you. Let's not make them wait any longer, shall we?"

Giorno ignored his help, his gaze was stuck on that endless floor. He didn't have the courage to look at the other, his presence alone felt like a sadistic joke.

He didn't look sad, depressed, miserable... He was just...Tired.

He wanted to cry those tears that he had denied in the last three years, he wanted to yell at that illusion to leave him alone, that wasn't the real Bruno, it couldn't be.

But, as he impeded any of this from coming out, something he didn't think he would have felt in a thousand of years struck him.

Bucciarati hugged him.

A tight, comforting hug like one of a mother, that he was waiting for his child to reciprocate. The latter's breathing became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed, as weak laments rapidly turned into audible sobs.

"There's no reason to be sad now, I'm real, you can feel it, can't you?"

"Y-You...You're here...But h-how is it p-possible?"

The brunette chuckled, the sound of his laughter was more comforting than an angel's voice.

"It isn't"

Giovanna's stand penetrated the man's torso, but its arm...It was not Gold Experience's. It had a checkered red and white pattern that extended in its entirety, and it possessed an amount of physical strength which was out of any possible expectations for the creature able to give life.

"Foolish child, I thought you were better than this, I'd lie if I said I wasn't a bit disappointed"

The sound of Bruno's corpse falling to the ground resonated through that empty space, as the last door vanished. A puddle of blood originated from his horrible injury, it was big enough for the boy to see his reflection in.

"You are no better than me under any point of view. We took advantage of his kindness, we used him as a simple pawn for our own gain. The only difference between us, is that I was not manipulating enough to convince him to join my side voluntarily. He was a tool to the both of us, but you were the one who caused his demise"

The mirror that had been created showed two people, but the transparent figure of Diavolo immediately ceased to be visible. The only one left was Giorno, though his reflection seemed to mutate with every second that passed.

His blond curls started to change shape, turning into a fuchsia mess, with dirty green stains on it. His eyes had a killer, maniacal look inside of them, his pupils got smaller in horror. His entire body structure was different. He looked older, more muscular, his clothes, too, were no longer his own.

"Mista loved him, and you killed him"

"Fugo loved him, and you killed him"

"Trish loved him, and you killed him"

"Narancia loved him, and you killed him"

"Abbacchio loved him, and you killed him"

"You loved him, and you killed him"

...

"Giorno? Giorno please, wake up!"

You screamed, your sleep was interrupted by the sound of your boyfriend hyperventilating, as he desperately held you to himself, still trapped in that horrible dream.

You sighed in relief when he abruptly opened his eyes, so swollen and red from all the tears he's shed.

"Another nightmare, uh?"

You asked, gently caressing his back to try and calm him down, he was as vulnerable as a baby that runs to his parents after having a bad dream. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him is something you had grown accustomed to, but you had never seen him this shaken up.

He slightly nodded in response, grabbing the top of your pajamas. You put an hand behind his head, making him rest on your chest, and kissed him softly on his forehead.

You could hear him murmuring something, you couldn't tell wherever he was talking to you, or to himself.

"I-I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry..."

He repeated like a broken record, you could barely make out what he was trying to say.

"Tesoro, you've done nothing wrong, there's no one you owe your apologizes to"

The boy raised his head slightly, intertwining your fingers with his, he needed to feel sure that this was not another tremendous trick of his mind.

"See? I'm here, you don't have to be afraid. I know that you feel unworthy of my feelings, but there is no one out there that deserves love more than you do. Nobody is perfect, Giorno, you did everything that was in your power to help them"

"But I...I was the one w-who put them in danger in the first place"

"No, you were not. You all shared the same ideals, you saved them from the oppression they were put in"

As you swept those remaining drops away from his face, you could still feel his entire body shaking like a dried leaf in a windy day of autumn.

"N-None of this would have happened if I didn't come along..."

"Exactly, none of them would have known what it meant to be free. I...Understand that the sacrifices that were made are not easy to forget, but blaming yourself like this...Do you really think that's what they would have wanted?"

Not receiving an answer, you laid down once again, still holding him in your arms. You forced a tiny smile, kissing him delicately on his lips, and whispered in his ear that everything would have been okay.

But, in reality...You felt you were trying to reassure yourself as well. This was not something you could have solely resolved through staying by his side, healing from this would have taken a lot of time, but...At least, you could offer some temporary safety, and it seemed to be enough for the time being.

In fact, after some minutes, everything seemed to cease. The boy fell asleep once again, this time with the knowledge that you were there to protect him.

You sighed, praying for your darling to finally find some peace.

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