#the physical contact he got was all harsh and painful

[adrift-in-thyme]

Time’s primary love language is touch

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast React to you Cradling Them When They’re Upset

Sebastian Sallow

Sebastian craves physical comfort like a starving man craves bread, but he’s very rarely had the opportunity to express it. Solomon was not the hugging sort, Ominis typically loathes physical contact unless it’s necessary, and Anne… well. The curse makes it hard for her to bear a cuddle for long. Sebastian has trained himself to give brief hugs and pats on the back, if anything at all, worrying that he’ll be seen as clingy, needy, or annoying if he holds on too tight, or too long. The last thing he wants to be is annoying, least of all to you. He has to be strong, he has to be cheerful, he has to be the one that everyone relies on. That means he’s useful, and people will stay by him. He can’t be a burden, or he’ll be abandoned.

So when you find him in the Restricted Section, surrounded by books and weeping into his hands at the sheer hopelessness of everything, he’s stunned when your immediate reaction is to pull him into your lap. He tenses, embarrassed by his display of emotion and afraid of needing you too much. But the longer you hold him, the more his defences crumble, and it’s not long before he’s sobbing into your shoulder, unable to speak, desperate to be held, to be loved, to be given the affection he’s been denied for so long. He clings to you for hours, alternately apologising and crying some more.

Once he’s calmed down enough to think straight, he realises you’ve not let him go. He begins to worry, fretting that you’re only doing this to be nice, but you still don’t let him go. He begins to relax into you, accepting that finally, finally, he can hold and be held like he needs. He’s got years of missing affection to make up for, and this is only the start. From this moment, any moment not touching you is considered a moment wasted, and Sebastian will hold your hand, link your arms together, hook your ankle over his under the table, or simply sit close enough so his arm or leg is up against yours. That is, if he’s not outright hugging you or snuggling you. For the first few months, you’ll be lucky if you get five minutes to visit the loo alone, and he gets twitchy if you’re apart from him for too long.

He's yours for life. Treat him kindly.

Ominis Gaunt

Ominis isn’t really one for physical affection, especially if you’re only friends, or in the early stages of your relationship. He’s not used to it, almost afraid of it, having never really experienced it as a child, and disliking the rough, enthusiastic, inexperienced hugs his friends give. It’s nothing like the tender affection he craves, and ever the gentleman, he’s worried about overstepping his boundaries. Ever the traumatised soul, he’s afraid of asking for what he really wants. He knows this isn’t something he can demand, as he has been taught a Gaunt would.

He doesn’t emote much, especially negative emotions. He’s always been taught to hide negative feelings or any kind of extreme emotion, and he wears that self-control like armour. But he’s not infallible, things still get to him, especially as he bottles things up. So when a particularly barbed jab from another student gets under his skin, he retreats to the Undercroft to rant at the air. This is how you find him, striding up and down and shouting at nothing, as if he’s arguing with someone.

Of course, he’s very embarrassed to be found this way, and tries to cover it by sliding back into the careful neutrality he so often wears. You know better though. You sit behind him, slide your arms around his chest, and pull him into your lap, your hand at the back of his head, letting him rest against you.

It sparks a memory he thought he’d buried. He was four, he’d tripped over and scraped his knee. His parents had scolded him for crying, growing more irate as their harsh words upset him further, and then Aunt Noctua was there, lifting him into her arms and bearing him away from the pain and the anger that was all his parents ever gave him. She’d taken him to her rooms in the Manor and settled in a chair, holding his head to her chest and humming a lullaby, soothing him with a hand on the back of his head.

It’s one of the last memories he has of her, and as it surfaces, he breaks. No matter how much he tries to pull it back, he just can’t, and your arms are iron around him, like a cage. But it’s a cage he doesn’t want to be released from, craving the warmth of your embrace, longing for the love and safety that is such a distant, fragmented memory, something that seemed like an impossible dream until now. He feels he should be embarrassed by this horrendous display of failed control, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s a problem for future Ominis. Right now, all he cares about is the feel of your heartbeat against his cheek, the gentle scent of your skin, the feel of your body against his as you hold him so tenderly. To his utter disbelief, you hum a gentle melody. It’s not the lullaby Noctua used to sing, but it’s soft and warm and comforting.

After this, Ominis is much more free with his affection with you, though he still keeps it to a minimum around others. If he’s ever had a bad day, or just needs comforting, he leans into you in a particular way that you come to learn means he wants to be held like that again. He knows you’ll never judge him for it, and he loves you all the more because of it. He becomes increasingly protective of you, fearing losing you, but he is ever respectful of your boundaries.

When he thinks back over all the days you spent together, he realises the time you first held him like that was the moment his subconscious mind began planning your wedding, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

Garreth Weasley

Garreth is a naturally cheerful person, and while he can get irritable, it’s over quickly and he’s back to being happy. It’s very rare for him to get upset for any significant period of time, so it’s quite a shock when you find him in his dorm, head hanging, faded tear-tracks on his cheeks. He tries to brush it off, of course, to make a joke or try to make you laugh, but you know better. You sit beside him and ask, and he tries to change the subject. But with a little prodding, he eventually tells you, grudgingly, miserably, what's made him so down.

It doesn’t take much to convince him to curl up in your arms. Garreth has always been comfortable with affection, and would probably still climb in his mum’s lap if he didn’t worry that he’d flatten her. He’s worried that he’ll squash you and takes a good while for him to relax, but once he does, he fully flops on you, murmuring soft little sounds of contentment as you rub his back or play with his hair. If you try to pull away too soon, he pretends he’s still sad so you’ll cuddle him more, even if he’s feeling on top of the world that you’d be so kind to him.

It tells him that you’re just like him, happy to snuggle and happy to do what’s needed to make him feel good, as he would for you. He feels a deeper bond with you than before, and the rest of Hogwarts can expect to find the pair of you draped over each other in all corners of the castle after this.

Leander Prewett

It’s… a little awkward to begin with, especially because an upset Leander is often a hostile Leander, as it's the way he's learned how to protect himself. You eventually convince him to let you hold him, but it takes a while. Leander is very tall with rather long limbs, so getting him in your lap in the first place is a struggle, especially as he’s so resistant to begin with. He’s already embarrassed enough by being emotional then snappy in front of you, worried that you’re going to make fun of him or worse, pretend to be nice and tease him mercilessly later. It’s the last thing he needs. But, with a little coaxing (and a bit of tugging) you manage to settle him in your lap. Yeah, the height difference is even more noticeable now, but that doesn’t matter to you. You make sure he’s comfy and hold him tight, not saying a word, just letting your hug do the talking for you.

He doesn’t tell you what set him off this time, what made him so upset. But after a long while as he curls around you, his head on your shoulder, his legs dangling over the edge of the chair or bed on which you sit, he tells you little things about his past. Some of them are happy memories or silly stories. Some of them are not. Leander bears his soul to you in bits and pieces, every word he speaks the truth, and all you need to do is listen. This is the moment he truly falls for you, a helpless, headlong tumble, and he would fight a dragon with a wooden sword to keep you from this moment on.

Amit Thakkar

Amit has always worn his heart on his sleeve, and is free with his emotions around you once you two become firm friends, or a couple. He’s a gentleman through and through, though this is mostly down to his natural shyness. He prefers to focus on you and your problems than his own, assuring you that he’s perfectly alright if you find him feeling down. You find him one evening staring down at his telescope, on the verge of tears, as the lens has cracked. He doesn't mind telling you why it's so upsetting to him, expecting a hug or maybe a pat on the back. So it’s quite the surprise to him when you pull him into your lap and snuggle him close, and at first, he’s not sure what to do with himself. He holds himself very still and stiff, and you have to encourage him to relax more than once.

He soon finds himself sinking into your embrace, comforted by your presence and your kindness, the pair of you warming each other atop the chilly Astronomy Tower. He’ll freely admit to you what’s been preying on his mind as the lens was just the straw that broke the camel's back, and shyly admit he really enjoys this particular kind of cuddle. He’ll probably doze off in your lap if you sit like this too long, and Amit is a very heavy sleeper. If he manages to stay awake, he’ll run his hand over your back, trying to reciprocate some of the attention you’re giving him, trying to say without words just how much things like this mean to him.

He won’t indulge often, he likes to be the one holding you, but it’s comforting for him to know that it’s something he can enjoy if he truly needs a pick-me-up.

Andrew Larson

In all fairness, Andrew will be climbing into your lap the moment you give the barest hint that this is what you’re going to do when he’s upset. He’s free with his affection in a more subdued way than Garreth, perhaps, but he makes no secret of how much he loves being snuggled up in your lap. He loves the security of being held, especially if you play with his hair. It’s guaranteed to cheer him up in no time at all, no matter how low he’s feeling. He loves draping his head and arms over your shoulders, and if you’re strong enough to carry him, he’ll fall in love with you if you carry him to bed when he starts to drift off.

In fact, Andrew loves this attention and affection so much he might even make himself get all teary eyed if it means you’ll draw him into your lap and rock him back and forth, even if there’s nothing actually wrong. Once he learns you’ll cuddle him the way he wants regardless if whether he’s actually upset or not, he’ll quit with the crocodile tears and swap them for happy little giggles.

Poppy Sweeting

You’ve barely put your arms around her before Poppy has slung her arms around your neck, swinging her legs up and snuggling into your chest. It’s almost as if she’s been made to fit especially in your lap, her cheek fitting perfectly into the crook of your shoulder. She might play with your hair a little to distract herself from whatever it is that’s upset her, but she’ll be honest with you if you ask what the matter is. She’s always been a cuddly sort, and regardless of whether you’re simply friends or are dating, Poppy’s always going to be giving you hugs or asking for piggyback rides (or just climbing on you anyway). This is a natural progression for the both of you, though Poppy will most likely want to do the same for you the next time you’re upset.

She’s stronger than she looks, so don’t worry about squashing her.

Natsai Onai

Natsai has always been an affectionate soul, but she’s also tough as old iron and rarely shows when she’s upset unless it’s about to overcome her. She learned in her fifth year that she could always reach out to you when she was upset, so that’s what she does. It’s still a surprise for her when you pull her into your lap to hold her, she was only expecting a friendly pat on the back or perhaps a brief hug, but your gesture is welcome nonetheless. It reminds her of the way her father would hold her when she was little, and she takes great comfort in it. It’s not something Natsai will tolerate for long, as she’s always been good at recovering from upset quickly, and being an energetic soul, it’s not long before she’s fidgeting and wanting to move about. She prefers to be the one holding you at any rate, and can sit still for hours if she does. She’s always felt much more comfortable in giving affection than receiving it, though she really does enjoy it when you do.

Imelda Reyes

Lol are you joking? When Imelda’s upset she wants to be alone, and if you try and intrude on her when she’s having a bad day or worse, actually crying, she’ll chase you all through the Highlands just to beat you up. Sure, she’ll probably apologise afterwards when she’s calmed down, but she’s got a reputation to uphold as Hogwarts’ baddest bitch, and she won’t ever let anyone see her cry, let alone in anyone’s lap. Now, if it’s you that’s upset? You can bet your arse she won’t let you get off her lap unless you’re about to pass out or are busting for a piss.

Masterlist

[thewulf]

A Safe Place || Dallas "Dally" Winston

Summary: Request - Can you do a Dally or Darry x female reader where reader is having a really difficult time at home (mom and dad are kinda like Johnny's parents and beat up physically and mentally on reader?)... Read Rest Here

A/N: As long as I live I will forever write The Outsiders. Such a unique group to write. This one is tough but I really love it!

Pairing: Dallas "Dally" Winston x Female Reader (Johnny Cade Sister)

Word Count: 3.3k +

TW: ABUSE, talks of abuse, hitting, bruises, cuts, blood, threats of violence, general Outsiders warnings

As you stumbled through the door of the Curtis household the entire greaser gang turned to look at you. Their expressions shifting from surprise to concern in an instant. Dally was the first to react, his eyes widening in realization as he took in the extent of your injuries.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" Dally's voice was gruff but there was an underlying edge of worry as he approached you. His movements were surprisingly gentle as he took in your battered appearance. His usually stern expression softened which revealed a glimpse of the concern that lurked beneath his tough exterior.

You could feel the weight of their stares. Their unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air. It was clear that they were shocked by the state you were in, and the realization only made you feel more vulnerable. Because for as bad as you felt you just knew you looked 10 times worse. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time he didn’t seem to want to stop.

"I-I... I had a run-in with my old man," you managed to choke out. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you fought to hold back the tears brimming at the edge of your eyes. You’d done so good escaping it was suddenly catching up to you what you had just gone through. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. A painful reminder of the nightmare you couldn't escape.

Steve's jaw clenched tight with anger as he took in your bruised and bloodied face, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "That bastard," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with rage. "He’s gonna pay for this, I swear."

Dally's expression darkened at your words. His features contorted with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "I'll kill him," he growled, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought to contain the rage simmering just beneath the surface. His words hung heavy in the air as it was a promise of retribution that sent a shiver down your spine. The scary part was that you knew he would kill him given the chance. It was one thing with Johnny… but when he saw you so battered he found a rage not even he knew he had.

Instinctively you flinched at his declaration. The raw intensity in his voice triggering a flood of memories you wished you could forget. You had already endured so much, the wounds—both physical and emotional—still fresh and raw. The thought of more violence only served to deepen the pit of dread that churned in your stomach. Sure, you grew up with the greasers but it never made the violence and threats of it any easier.

As if sensing your reaction Dally's eyes softened with remorse. A pang of guilt flickering across his features. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering uncertainly over your shoulder before finally making the gentlest contact. He was afraid of the bruises underneath your clothes, the ones he couldn’t see. "Hey," he murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the harshness of his earlier words. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For all his tough exterior there was a vulnerability in Dally that few ever got to see. A glimpse of the boy beneath the cocky attitude that he showed all too often. As you looked into his eyes you saw not just the anger and the pain, but also the deep-seated compassion that he tried so hard to conceal. His presence was a balm to your battered soul. A reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.

Dally's sharp gaze hardened as he turned to the group just staring at the scene unfolding before them. "Get the hell out of here if you ain’t gonna be useful," he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. "Give us some space guys." The rest of the gang exchanged uneasy glances before nodding in agreement, understanding the need for solitude in such a vulnerable moment. With one last look of concern, they filed out of the room leaving you and Dally in a cocoon of quiet solidarity.

As Soda made to leave with them Dally stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. "Soda, wait," he said, his voice softer now, filled with urgency. "Get the first aid kit and a warm towel. We need to clean her up." Soda nodded in understanding, a determined look crossing his features as he hurried off to retrieve the supplies.

As Soda hurried off to retrieve the supplies, Dally turned his attention back to you, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Hang in there, sweetheart," he said softly. His voice laced with reassurance as he gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "We'll get you patched up real quick."

You managed a weak smile. So grateful for his comforting words amidst the raging emotions swirling inside you. Despite the pain and the fear that still lingered there was a sense of relief knowing that you were in capable hands. You were being taken care of the boy who cared deeply for your well-being.

A knowing smile just ghosted over Soda's lips as he returned with the first aid kit and a warm towel. He was silently acknowledging the unspoken bond between you and Dally. He knew how much Dally had loved you for so long. And seeing the two of you together now filled him with a bittersweet sense of pride. He’d never seen Dallas so gentle.

With practiced efficiency, Dally and Soda set to work cleaning and dressing your wounds. Their movements gentle yet purposeful as they tended to each cut and bruise with care. Dally's hands were surprisingly gentle as he worked. A stark contrast to the roughness you had come to expect from him. However, even he wasn’t perfect. There was a moment when Dally accidentally pressed a little too hard on one of your bruises causing you to let out an involuntary yelp of pain. Instantly his expression shifted. A look of sadness crossing his features as he realized his mistake.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he murmured. His voice filled with genuine remorse as he gently pulled back, his hands hovering uncertainly over your injured skin. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be more careful, I promise."

You could see the sincerity in his eyes. It was layered with a depth of emotion you hadn't seen from him before. A stark reminder that beneath his tough exterior there was that vulnerability he tried so hard to conceal. You saw not just the pain and the regret in his eyes but also the profound sense of care and affection that he held for you.

"It's okay, Dally, really" you reassured him, your voice soft as you reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I know you didn't mean it. I’m so lucky to have you."

His gaze softened at your words. A small flicker of gratitude passing between you as you shared a moment of understanding. Despite the rough edges and the scars that marked his soul there was a gentleness to Dally that few ever got to see. A side of him that he reserved for those he held closest to his heart. A side that only seemed reserved for you.

With a nod of appreciation Dally resumed his careful ministrations. His touch lighter and more cautious than before. And as he worked to tend to your wounds with a renewed focus, you couldn't help but feel a swell of affection for the boy who had always been there for you. Always, no questions asked.

As Dally apologized profusely and you reassured him, Soda noticed the exchange between you two. Sensing the depth of emotion in the room he took a step back giving you and Dally a moment of privacy. There was that knowing look in Soda's eyes, an acknowledgment of the connection between you and Dally. With a subtle nod Soda retreated to give you both some space. His intuition telling him that this was a moment that needed to be shared between just the two of you. As he busied himself with tidying up the first aid supplies before exiting the room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth fill his chest for the two of you.

Once Dally finished tending to your wounds with careful precision a flood of emotions washed over you. Threatening to overwhelm your fragile composure. The physical pain had subsided only to be replaced now by a tidal wave of raw emotion that surged through your veins like a raging river. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to contain the torrent of feelings that threatened to consume you. It wasn't just the pain of your injuries that brought you to tears, but the weight of everything you had endured, the fear, the loneliness, the relentless cycle of abuse that had plagued your life for so long.

You cried for your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. Your Johnny. You cried for the father who had betrayed your trust as his fists rained down upon you with a cruelty that knew no bounds. But most of all you cried for Dally, for his unexpected gentleness and the overwhelming sense of safety and comfort that he had provided in your darkest hour.

As you sat with Dally in the quiet intimacy of the room you felt a sense of release wash over you. A cathartic release of pent-up emotion that had been building inside you for far too long. And as the tears flowed freely down your cheeks you knew that you were not alone. That you were loved and cherished by the one person who had always been there for you, offering his unwavering support and understanding in the face of adversity.

As your tears flowed Dally's heart ached with a depth of emotion he had never allowed himself to fully acknowledge before. Without hesitation, he shifted, pulling you fully onto his lap, cradling you against his chest with a tenderness that was so different than his tough exterior. His arms wrapped around you protectively creating a safety that enveloped you both.

He rubbed soothing circles on your back. His touch a comforting reassurance of his unwavering support. In the quietness of the moment, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement. His voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room.

Feeling your sobs intensify he tightened his embrace. His hold on you was firm yet gentle as if trying to absorb some of the pain that wracked your body and soul. With each shuddering breath you took he squeezed you tighter. His touch was a silent reassurance that he was there for you. He would never let you face your demons alone.

"You're safe now, sweetheart," he murmured. His breath warm against your ear. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Let it out. I'm here for you."

His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not alone in your pain. With each gentle stroke of his hand against your back, he offered you solace and understanding, his touch a silent promise of his unwavering support.

"It's okay to cry," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur in the stillness of the room. "I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you again, I swear it."

His heart broke for you, for the girl he cared for more deeply than he dared to admit. In that moment, as he held you close, he wished he could take away all the pain and suffering you had endured, to shield you from the cruelties of the world with nothing more than his love.

As time passed your sobs gradually subsided leaving behind a lingering sense of emptiness and exhaustion. In the quiet aftermath of your tears, you took a shaky breath. Your chest still tight with emotion. Dally held you close.

Feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear you found solace in the warmth of his embrace. With a heavy sigh you finally found the strength to speak. Your voice trembling with the weight of the words you had kept buried deep within your heart.

"I miss him," you spoke. Your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke of your little brother, lost and alone in a world that had turned its back on him. "I miss Johnny so much it hurts."

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, threatening to spill over as you thought of your brother who had been forced to run away. His pure innocence stolen by the cruelty of the world.

"I miss the way things used to be," you continued. Your voice filled with longing as you spoke of a time before your father's descent into darkness, before the alcohol and the violence tore your family apart. "I miss when my dad wasn't a drunk, when he was still my dad, you know?"

Your words hung heavy in the air, a poignant reminder of the innocence you had lost, of the life that seemed so distant and foreign now. In the safety of Dally's embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.

As you spoke of missing Johnny, Dally's embrace tightened. His arms offering you a sense of strength and stability amidst the chaos of your emotions. His voice was gentle as he responded. His words a quiet reassurance in the face of your pain.

"I know, sweetheart," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "We all miss him. But you know Johnny, he's resourceful as hell. And with Pony by his side? Those two can handle anything."

There was a quiet conviction in Dally's voice. It was a steadfast belief in Johnny's resilience that offered you a glimmer of hope in the darkness. Despite the uncertainty of his fate, you found comfort in Dally's unwavering confidence. He was a reminder that you were not alone in your worries for your brother.

"And your dad..." Dally trailed off, his voice heavy with sympathy as he spoke of the man who had once been your protector, now reduced to a shadow of his former self. "He's not the man you remember, I know. But that ain't your fault, darlin'. None of this is."

His words were a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you were not to blame for the sins of your father, that you deserved love and happiness just as much as anyone else. In the safety of his embrace, you allowed yourself to mourn the loss of the past, to grieve for the family that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control.

But even as the tears continued to fall, you knew that you were not alone. That Dally was there for you and always ready to offer his unwavering support and understanding in the face of your pain. As you clung to each other in the quiet darkness you found solace in the simple act of being together.

As your emotions opened you realized your love for him wasn't triggered by a simple moment. But rather by a complex series of events that had been building up over time. It was the culmination of countless conversations, shared moments, and lingering glances that had slowly but surely chipped away at the walls around your heart.

It started with the little things. Like the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you laugh or the way he would brush a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that took your breath away. It was the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning, the whispered confessions and shared secrets that bound you together in ways you couldn't explain. But it was also the bigger moments. The ones that left you reeling with emotion and uncertainty. There was a time you called, and he showed up at your door in the middle of the night. No questions he was there as his face drawn and tired, and you knew without a doubt that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

As you looked into his eyes and saw the depth of his feelings reflected back at you, something shifted inside you. It was as if all the pieces fell into place like a puzzle finally coming together after years of searching. And in that moment, you knew. You knew that you couldn't keep it to yourself any longer, that you had to tell him how you felt, no matter the consequences.

So, you took a deep breath. Steeling yourself for what was to come, and you let the words spill from your lips in a rush of emotion. It was messy and imperfect, but it was real. It was true. And it was exactly what you needed to say.

"I... Dally, I just... I don't even know where to start," you began. Your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the right words. "But I can't keep it in any longer. I think... no, I know I... I love you. Like, really love you."

Your admission hung heavy in the air, a confession so raw and honest that it left you feeling exposed, vulnerable. But as you looked into Dally's eyes, filled with a mixture of surprise and tenderness, you knew that you had made the right decision to speak your truth.

"I know it sounds crazy," you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. "But it's true. You've always been there for me, through thick and thin. And it's not just because you're always there to clean up my messes or protect me from the world, although you do a damn good job of that. It's because... because I genuinely care about you, Dallas Winston. I care about you more than I ever thought possible. And it scares me sometimes, how much I care."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you bared your soul to him, laying your feelings bare for the world to see. But as you spoke, a sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you had finally spoken the words that had been weighing on your heart for so long.

"And I know it's a lot to take in," you concluded, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I had to tell you. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

For a moment, the air felt thick with anticipation. The intensity of your confession hanging between you like a tangible thing. And then as if a switch had been flipped, the hardness in Dally's eyes melted away. Replaced by a warmth that seemed to radiate from deep within him.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth gradually blossoming into a grin that lit up his entire face. It was a grin like you'd never seen before. A grin that reached all the way to his eyes filling them with a light you hadn't realized was missing.

His fingers brushed gently against your tear-stained cheeks. His touch tender and affectionate as he cupped your face in his hands. There was a sense of wonder in his expression, as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening, as if he had never dared to hope for this moment.

"Damn, sweetheart," he breathed. His voice tinged with awe. "I never knew you had it in you. Talking like that. But I'm glad you did. Because, hell, I love you too. I always have."

His words sent a rush of warmth through you. A feeling of elation that bubbled up from deep within your chest. And as you looked into his eyes, shining with a happiness you had never seen before, you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful, something real and true and utterly perfect.

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[girlgenius1111]

one step forward and three steps back

warnings: blood, panic attack, self harm, relapse. seriously, if you are even slightly concerned that this could be triggering for you, don't read it.

Ingrid-fight.

The weeks following your breakdown were easier than you'd anticipated. You'd taken a couple weeks off, spending the time focusing on your mental health, at Alexia and Jona's insistence. The club told the media that you were taking time for your mental health, which mostly went over well. Some, however, thought the club was being too soft. They only saw you get a red card, and take weeks off from playing; it was a tantrum you were throwing, not taking time for yourself.

Your return game saw you in the starting lineup, along with Mapi and Alexia. Ingrid was still out, being careful with her leg. You were doing better, able to focus more on playing, as well as being significantly less reckless on the pitch. Your hand had healed, and it really should have been your game.

Unfortunately for you, though, was that the other team was desperate to win. Not that every team wasn't, but the dirty tackles coming in every other minute made it clear that they were on a mission. Still, you'd managed to stay out of trouble until it was almost the end of the game.

You were trying to beat a defender, one of the players that had been playing particularly roughly. Normally, you didn't mind this, never not up for a physical challenge. What you didn't appreciate, however, was the elbow thrown into your face, connecting directly with first your nose, and then your eye.

"Fucking hell," You cried out, hands flying to your face as the other girl took the ball. The whistle blew almost instantly, and she groaned. You were pissed. "What, did you think they added throwing elbows when you can't do your job into the rulebook?" You asked her, feeling blood beginning to stream steadily out of your nose.

Your teammates and the ref were still making their way over to you, and only some of them caught the girls response.

"Gonna need to take another few weeks off? Your nose probably needs a mental health break, huh?" She said condescendingly. Alexia and Mapi sped up at this, breaking into runs to get to you. Sure enough, no sooner had the words left her mouth, and you were taking your hands away from your nose, and giving her a harsh shove. She shoved back, and both of you had fists raised by the time you were separated.

Mapi wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you back. "Easy there, the ref will take care of it," she told you, as you fought against her grasp. You were annoyed, Mapi was normally down for a fight. Instead, she was speaking in soothing tones, her calm eyes meeting your wild ones.

"She said-"

"I know what she said, but your face is bleeding, so sit down and let the physios check you, bueno?" Mapi was pissed, but she could hear Alexia talking to the ref behind her, and felt that as much as she wanted to slap that stupid girl across the face, she was more helpful here, making you take a seat as the physios arrived.

With a huff, you relented, sitting down. The pain in your face was becoming harder to ignore, and you didn't know if you believed the guy when he told you your nose wasn't broken, only badly bruised.

"Feels fucking broken," you said, attempting to add some bite to your words. Instead, they came out all choked, and you realized you were about to cry.

Mapi put a hand on your shoulder, not used to this response. You normally didn't cry when you got hurt, and she realized the comment from the other girl had affected you more than you'd probably admit. Mapi made eye contact with the physio and shook her head slightly, He signaled to the bench for a sub.

"You said it wasn't broken!" you protested.

"No, but you should ice it. No reason to take any unnecessary risks." He told you, and you knew that he and Mapi were just aware that you were upset, not thinking that you really needed to go off. You were going to argue, when Alexia stepped up, fixing you with her general look of "do what they say or I'll yell." You weren't in the mood for any yelling, so you relented, stomping off to the sidelines, without another word to your teammates. You noticed with some satisfaction that the other girl had gotten a red.

You stalked off the pitch, heading for the locker room, and Ingrid fell into step beside you.

"Leave me alone." You told her, wanting to cry in peace. You weren't sure why you were so upset with that girl's comment, but you were.

"No," she responded, meeting your glare with a smile. "Not letting you break another hand." She joked, and you mumbled an insult under your breath. She ignored it, following you into the locker room and watching as you threw yourself down in front of your locker.

Ingrid brought over a towel and some ice, insistently holding them out to you. After you took them, wiping the blood off your face, and pressing the ice to your nose, she sat next to you.

"You looked upset out there." She remarked.

"Yeah well. Elbow to the face." You responded.

"It looked like she said something to you," Ingrid pressed. You paused, before deciding to tell Ingrid what she said. her response would tell you whether you were being dramatic or not. After you'd spoken, Ingrid's eyes narrowed.

"What a little bitch," she seethed, and you huffed out a laugh, that quickly turned into a sob. Ingrid looked at you, startled, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, rubbing her hand up and down your arm.

"I don't know why I'm crying, it wasn't that bad. It was just mean and my nose hurts and I hate that stupid girl," you blubbered, and Ingrid held back a laugh.

"It's alright, y/n, you're allowed to be upset. It was mean. And it was about something that's sensitive to you, it makes sense why you're upset." She told you rationally. Ingrid had a way of speaking that made whatever she said make sense, instantly believable. You wiped the remaining tears off your face, before quietly thanking her. She squeezed your shoulders, and you both lapsed into silence.

You were impressed with Ingrid, for being able to make you feel better so fast. Ingrid was impressed with you, for expressing your feelings without her having to drag them out of you. It was clear that you were improving, and it filled her with relief. But for every step forward, there's always a step back. Or two.

-----

Mapi- panic.

You weren't really sure what had happened. One second, you were out with the team, celebrating a win in a club. It was a rare occasion for your captains [mostly Alexia], to agree to a night out in the middle of the season, so everyone had taken full advantage. You were dancing with Pina and Patri, surrounded by other people, when you felt it; the beginnings of panic starting to rise within you.

Maybe it was the crowded room, the lack of oxygen, the alcohol, or just a random fit of anxiety. Regardless of the reason, you were quickly growing more panicked. Without a word to either girl you were with, you had spun around and were pushing your way out of the crowd, off the dance floor. You broke free of the crowd, not processing anything happening around you. You still felt like the room was out of air though, so you headed for the door, stumbling slightly as you pushed your way out.

You leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. The air outside was cooler, more plentiful, yet you still couldn't seem to get enough into your body. You slid to the ground, pressing your hands to your face as you tried desperately to regain control. You couldn't hear much except for a faint ringing sound, and you felt completely untethered from the world.

Until you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jerked your head up to find Mapi's concerned face looking down at you. You relaxed slightly, knowing it wasn't a random stranger, putting your head back in your hands.

You felt Mapi take a seat next to you, her hand moving slowly up and down your back. She took one of your hands away from your face, and pressed it to her chest. You felt the steady rise and fall of her breaths, and forced yourself to match them. Your breaths were still stuttering, but they began to slow. You weren't sucking in air as desperately anymore, and the ringing in your ears was giving way to Mapi's gravelly voice.

"In and out, just like that," she said as you began to process her words. "Good, just take it slow. You're safe, I've got you," she told you, her voice and touch working well to calm you.

"Sorry," you gasped out, although you weren't really sure why you were apologizing.

"That's alright, pequeña, you can't help it." She replied. Once you were almost completely calm, she wrapped her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her. "What happened?" she asked, and you could hear the note of protection in her voice.

"Don't know. Too many people I think," you told her, resting your head against the wall behind you as you breathed in and out. "I'll be okay in a minute," you said.

"Take your time, I've got no where else to be," she said, resting her chin on your head.

It still struck you how much your friends cared for you. Even when you felt like they shouldn't, even when you knew it would be easier for them to give up on you, or let you handle it alone, they never did. And they never would, no matter what.

-----

Alexia - relapse.

You hadn't meant for it to happen- really. You'd been doing better. You were working with a therapist, and you'd started medication. It was clear that you desperately needed both of these things, and they were helping. You were naive to think that it would be only up from there though. Looking back, you'd realize the increase in dosage in your medication had just gone horribly wrong, the way that it could in rare cases. Having a clear reason didn't make what happened disappear though.

It had been a bad day. You'd woken up in an inexplicably bad mood. It had been a while since the familiar heavy cloud of gloom had settled over you, but as you headed to training, you felt it once again. The weight pushed down on you insistently, and as a result, you practiced worse. Your passes weren't connecting, shots weren't going in, and you kept tripping over your own feet.

This only made your mood worse, and by the time practice ended, you were incredibly frustrated with yourself. You avoided conversation, everyone discussing exciting plans for the night since you all had the day off tomorrow. You left the locker room quickly, missing the glances exchanged as you opened the door harder than necessary. You really should have expected to be stopped by your friends, but you were so in your head, you didn't hear them approaching. You jumped when Mapi placed a tattooed hand on your shoulder, halting you in your tracks.

When you turned to look at her, her face was pinched with concern, and you felt yourself grow more frustrated; you weren't supposed to be worrying your friends anymore, you were fine. Alexia stood behind her, watching you carefully. They both had yet to shower, still in their training kits, and you wondered if they were waiting so they could check on you.

"You alright pequeña?" Mapi asked. You nodded, sighing as both girls continued to look at you, clearly not believing you.

"Just a rough day." You told them.

"Do you want one of us to come home with you?" Alexia asked, keeping her voice low and soothing, expecting you to reject the idea. It was something they'd made you promise after that night. If you weren't feeling okay, you were supposed to tell them. You had yet to do this, with things improving, and you didn't want to start now. Admitting that you were having a bad day was one thing, but admitting that your thoughts were going dark was another. You were better, you were supposed to be better.

So, you convinced yourself that you'd be fine on your own, and you told Alexia as much. "No, I'm fine, I promise. I'm just gonna go home and relax." Your plans for the rest of the day consisted of laying in bed until you felt less like your every move was heavy.

The older girls gave you searching looks, but relented, reminding you that they were just a phone call away. They'd slowly begun to trust you again, since that night, trust you'd earned. They'd been able to see your improvements, and as a result, assumed that if you needed them, you'd tell them.

They were wrong.

------

In hindsight, maybe going home by yourself while in the midst of a depressive episode might not have been the best idea. Arriving home, you had tried to distract yourself, which was hard when you barely had the energy to sit upright. You settled yourself on your couch, not bothering to try to eat. You pulled your favorite blanket around your shoulders, settling in against the cushions, putting a random show on. You fell asleep watching TV, with the hopes that when you woke up, you'd feel better.

Instead, you woke up after the sun had set, feeling much worse. Your apartment was completely dark, although the curtains were wide open. You didn't bother with turning the lights on, staying in the same position on the couch as you began to spiral.

The deep sadness that had nestled it's way into the very core of your being this morning had given way some, to numbness. The numbness was normally where things went south. A combination of despair, but the inability to access those emotions choked you. You felt, so deeply, but you couldn't bring it to the surface. Instead, the shadows of these emotions danced just outside your grasp, leaving you desperate for something, anything, other than blank paralysis.

This was normally the point you turned to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Not often, and not for a while, but still, the once the thought popped into your head, you couldn't get rid of it. You knew it was the only thing that could bring you back into yourself, melt the freeze in your brain. The pain never failed at this; you knew it was bad, knew you shouldn't need to resort to this, but sitting there on your couch, you couldn't really think of any other option.

Robotically, you stood up from the couch, pausing as your phone fell to the ground off your lap. There were a few notifications you'd missed, and you stopped, opening them. All were from various teammates group chats. You ignored most of them, opening up the thread with Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid. Your mind was clouded, focused on the task you had set your mind to, but still, a small part of it reminded you that you didn't have to do this. You had people that could help, would help, wanted to help.

You remembered, though, that they were out tonight. It was Ingrid and Mapi's anniversary, and the spaniard was taking Ingrid somewhere ridiculous and fancy. Alexia had some Barcelona related benefit. Realistically, you knew they'd all drop everything to come to you if you told them you needed them, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. One time wouldn't hurt. You could do it again, just this once. They'd never have to know.

-----

Pulling the blade away from your skin, you watched as blood trailed down your thigh. You didn't feel better, not like you normally did. The feelings had come rushing back to you after the first cut, but they didn't relinquish their grip on you as you continued. You felt desperate, filled with anguish, with no clear way to get rid of it.

Well, there was one way. As soon as you had that thought, you began to panic. You hadn't thought like this in a really long time, and it scared the hell out of you. It was like you were fighting between two parts of yourself, one that wanted you to be okay, and one that didn't care if you were okay, as long as you didn't feel like this anymore. The latter had won out, earlier. You were terrified that if you didn't do something, it would win again.

You forced yourself to breath, to think logically. You grabbed a towel from the shelf next to you. You leaned back against the wall, pressing it tightly against your leg. You just needed to do one thing at a time and everything would be okay. Reaching up to the bathroom counter, you grabbed your phone.

This was the hardest part. Harder than dragging the blade across your skin, harder than hiding your scars. Scars you'd reopened now. Your hand shook as you considered your options. Your mind had cleared slightly, self preservation instincts kicking in.

Ingrid and Mapi deserved a nice anniversary. Alexia hated social events. She'd probably tell you that you were doing her a favor if you called. Probably not when she heard why you called, but regardless.

Taking another breath, you clicked her contact, anxiety finding it's way into your gut.

"Hola, y/n." Alexia answered rather quickly, and you knew then that she hadn't really believed you earlier.

"Ale." You choked the word out, eyes suddenly full of tears. You didn't sound like yourself. Now that she was on the phone with you, the weight of what you'd done, and what you'd considered, was hitting you full force.

"Que paso?" Alexia asked, voice switching from casual to worried instantly. You could picture her expression, the one she got when she was giving someone instructions, or arguing with a ref, an intensity that made her the player that she was. It also made her the friend that she was. You tried to reply, but the words wouldn't come out of your mouth.

"Y/n, I need you to tell me what's happening, now" Alexia said almost frantically. The background of people talking had disappeared and you knew she was leaving, moving fast to get to you.

"I-... I need you," you responded finally, barely getting the words out. You were sucking in air faster now, tears falling freely.

"Okay, I'm coming to you now, nena. I'll be there in 10 minutes," Alexia told you. Her soft tone was one reserved for very few people; at that moment, you counted yourself very lucky that you were one of them. "Are you safe?" She asked, feeling like she already knew the answer.

You weren't really sure how to respond to that. The bleeding had stopped, so you weren't medically in danger. The blade was across the bathroom from you, and Alexia was on her way, so you doubted you'd be able to do any more damage. Your thoughts were still rather dire, but you were focusing on Alexia, on her voice, and the sound of her getting in her car and starting the engine.

"I'm not really sure," you settled on. The Catalan wasn't sure what to make of that response.

"Are you at home?"

"Si"

"Are you hurt?"

You paused, and she knew the answer. You heard the engine increasing in volume as she accelerated. "Pequeña, do you need an ambulance?" Alexia asked. The question made her nauseous but she forced herself to remain focused, to not get caught up in her feelings.

"No. Stopped bleeding." You replied, shutting your eyes tightly as she inhaled a sharp breath. You hated this, hated it so much.

"Okay, that's good, nena. Can you take a breath for me?" You did as she asked, realizing that you'd been holding in air. "Bien, muy bien. I'm almost there, okay? Stay on the phone with me."

"Okay," came your response, voice quiet. Neither of you spoke much after that, Alexia aware that you were struggling to reply, and relying on the sound of your breaths to assure her that you were alright.

She told you when she arrived, though, parking the car and jumping in the elevator. The call cut out while she was in there, which you'd been expecting. As you waited for her to enter the apartment, trusting that she'd use her spare key, you took in the sight in front of you. You didn't pull the towel away from your thigh, but you looked at the red staining the bath mat, the blade discarded where you'd thrown it. Pulling your attention from it, you focused on the door, hearing Alexia move hastily through your apartment.

She opened the door, and had to stifle a gasp. She'd tried to prepare herself, but nothing she could picture in her mind was like seeing it in person. You were sat against the wall, white blood stained towel pressed to your leg. You shorts were pulled up, revealing the scars on your other leg. You were wearing an old training shirt, and there was blood on that too. You were shaking slightly, eyes big and cheeks tearstained. What struck her most was how scared you looked.

"Oh, pequeña," she said, voice breaking. You dropped your gaze at her words, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. She crouched down next to you, placing a hand on your cheek. She pressed her lips to your forehead, desperate to give you any comfort she could. "I'm here, I've got you. We'll take care of it, alright?" She said, words thick with emotion. You nodded shakily, and she stood back up, pulling the first aid kit out from under your sink. She took a seat back next to you, pausing.

"Can you take the towel off, nena?" Alexia asked. She didn't want to push you too hard, not sure how you'd respond. Wordlessly, you pulled it off your leg, wincing where it stuck to the skin. Alexia swallowed hard, the sight worse than she anticipated.

"Okay. I'm going to disinfect, and then I'm going to cover them." You nodded, still not having spoken. She pulled out a couple of alcohol wipes, opening 3 all at once. "This is gonna sting, tell me if you need a break, okay?" Again, you only nodded. Alexia worked fast, cleaning the wounds. You didn't ask for a break, but she noticed you flinch every so often, let out sharper exhales. She put anti-infection cream on before deciding against bandaids. Instead, she placed a piece of gauze on, wrapping it with medical adhesive tape.

You looked down, taking in the neatly wrapped area. It looked much better like this, much more manageable. Alexia stood to wash her hands. She dried them off, before turning back to you. You were staring at your red stained hands. She reached down, guiding you to stand, before pulling you to the sink, and helping you wash the blood off of them. You were docile under her grasp, blankly following her instructions. She led you out of the bathroom, quickly helping you change out of your blood stained clothes, and into clean ones. She pulled clothes out of your closet for herself, too, changing out of the suit she'd worn the the benefit. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and she'd rather be comfortable.

You found yourself sitting on the couch, like you had been before. This time though, the lights were on, and the room felt warm, inviting, as opposed to cold and lonely. Alexia moved around, keeping an eye on you as she made you a mug of tea. She sat down next to you, typing quickly on her phone before turning to you.

You felt better. Not great, not really even good, but better. You got a better grasp on your emotions, and began to connect the dots in your head. This had been so out of the blue. Normally, you only reached this point after weeks of being down. It was clear to you, now, that increasing your dosage of your meds had been a mistake. You'd always heard warnings, about how in rare cases an antidepressant could increase depression, thoughts of... the things you'd done. And the things you'd thought about doing. The explanation made you feel a little calmer.

Alexia, on the other hand, did not know what had happened. She was trying to give you some time to process, but she was going crazy. You hadn't spoken to her since she'd arrived, and you were sitting next to her, clearly deep in thought.

"Y/n, can you please tell me what you're thinking?" She finally asked. You startled slightly, before nodding your head. You explained your theory, of why what had happened happened.

"I just need to go back down on my meds. Or try a different one." Alexia felt relieved, but not completely. She could see you trying to convince yourself that, because there was a clear explanation, it was fine. You were fine. That this wasn't a big deal. She also could tell that you were trying not to let yourself get upset about it.

"I'm glad you understand why this happened, we can go see the psychiatrist tomorrow," she said, carefully contemplating her next words. "That was still really scary, nena."

"I'm so sorry, Ale. I'm so sorry you had to see that, that I called, that I messed up again and scared you," you rambled, clearly thinking she was talking about being scared herself. She had been terrified, but that's not what she meant.

"No, I meant for you. Having those thoughts must have been really frightening, especially out of the blue like that." Alexia replied, and you looked away. "Please, please, do not ever apologize for this. For any of it. I don't care that you scared me, I'm just glad you called. So glad, and so so proud of you, pequeña." She implored, watching carefully as you shook your head unconsciously.

"I messed up, you shouldn't be proud of me," was all you said. You looked like you were about to cry again, and Alexia couldn't resist pulling you into her arms. You let her, resting your head on her chest, blinking rapidly to try to stave off the tears.

"Well, I am proud of you. You called me. You wouldn't have done that a few months ago." She paused, thoughtful. She was trying to think of something that would relieve your guilt, your disappointment in yourself. "Relapses are part of recovery, y/n. It sucks, but they are. Relapsing doesn't make you weak, or a bad person. I know you feel like you should be better, but it's okay if you're not. Because of your medicine, or because of anything else. There's no timeline here, no requirements of being okay that you have to meet. All you need to do is try your best. And you are, I can tell. You asked for help when you needed it, and that is something to celebrate."

You looked up at her, the hopeful expression on your face making her heart clench. "I haven't let you down?" You asked quietly.

"No, nena. You haven't let anyone down. I was scared, yes, but all I feel right now is love for you, and pride for you." She said, determined for you to believe her. You were starting to. Her tone, her face, were so full of conviction, it was hard to do anything but listen.

"Thank you for coming so fast."

"I'll always come when you need me, as fast as I can." Her reply was almost instant. Alexia watched as you smiled weakly at her, before it dropped from your face, and tears welled in your eyes yet again. "What is it, pequeña," she wondered, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You leaned your head back against her, speaking into the fabric of her sweatshirt.

"I have to start all over again," you choked out.

Alexia sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. But we're all gonna be here again, okay? All of us, for every second."

They'd proven they'd be there for you, time and time again. Their commitment to being good friends, to taking care of you, was what made you believe that you were worth it. They were some of the best people you knew, and if they were going to be there every step of the way, the journey must be worth it.

-----

I hope you guys enjoyed :). Obviously a super heavy part. I'm not really sure what else to say, other than I hope that if you read this, it can bring you comfort in some way. Asking for help is terrifying, but it's so worth it, I promise. You deserve to feel good, and be happy.

[danger-noodle-uwu]

Trigger warning [mentions of killing/arguments/death/break-ups/cheating/etc]

Satan

Wrath is vengeful, wrath is destruction however this never bothered you or got in the way of dating Satan, The Avatar of wrath himself.

But as one could say, the true nature of a being could never remain under the covers. There was vengeance peering above the surface, and destruction awaiting at an unknown's doors, you did not knew.

Satan had great many contacts and to keep that up, he need to do few favors but not every favor was not-so-bloody. And lost in such an expectations of others did he forget an important day like today.

As always the day started as chaos, which couldn't have been helped either way and the blond had grown sick of that, unknown to the cause of chaos and decided to act upon the list he had, completely overlooking your smile, or the stunning outfit complimenting your figure or the day itself.

Upon this ignorance of his, you really wished face-palm. His demeanor was rather annoying, which only fueled you more to smack him. Really hard.

Today was well-planned, at least that's what you thought before dragging him away from his target and scolding him for leaving you on your own in a place crawling with demons.

Satan being the literal embodiment of wrath yet also your lover said "Get off me. I have things to do. And stop being so damn clingy." "Hey, it's your fault for leaving me on my special day!plus, there's sooo many things I wanna do toda–"

"Please shut up for once in your goddamn life!!" His sharp scream cut you off as his eyes bore into yours; eyes full of hatred and disgust as if you were a wretched grotesque placed before him.

Those words accompanied by his harsh glares was enough to make your heart shatter and knifes to be jabbed in your chest while eyes stung with tears that you pathetically hid by averting them as you asked "what did I do wrong..?"

Who knew that one sentence was enough to make those unshed tears flow and litter your rosy cheeks that he'd usually squish and fawn over but alas, all that comforted you was his back.

"Your whole being is the most ugliest!" Lies. Lies. He knew his tongue spat venom at you with words that could never be true because you're his world but the blinding rage doesn't allow him to say so and thus instead, his hand runs through golden locks out of pure frustration as he finally turned to face you.

There was something terrifying about him that very moment which made you mumble out a small "...I'm sorry..." before running off; the sharp pain in your heart only grew with him staring at you like that. It was all just too much. His wrath was suffocating you but to ruin your birthday without even remembering it.

You did didn't care for how bad your muscles ached as you ran further away from him. All that you wanted is to be alone and cry your heart out in hopes that this agony would subside yet part of you hoped that he cared and would come after you or stop you. Which never happened.

Satan has always been so...uncooperative and complicated towards everyone that it almost made him unreachable at times especially when it comes to Lucifer however today, it became different.

His face was scrunched and tense as Lucifer advised him to give you space before talking things out and perhaps getting you a gift as well for both an apology and your birthday; his body pacing back and forth in his room reconsidering things he's spoke until now, not even bothered to consider this as a special day while his elder patiently waited for him to calm down. They both how much you mean to Satan despite him hurting you and making you feel unwanted.

And would anyone look at the avatar of wrath while he's on his knees; practically begging to set things write and for you to accept his apology. However much like always, you don't fail at surprising him when your lips clumsily crash against his.

That he moment he knew how truly beautiful you are in every sense. From physical appearance to your dream-like soul. Every inch was perfect.

Asmodeus

'Touchy and irresponsible as always' you sighed looking over and frowning at Asmodeus who was so clearly lost in the seemingly endless attention they give him as their hands roam his body while he's biting his lip. He was enjoying this, wasn't he?

The thought of him being touched by somebody else made your stomach churn and eyes sting with hurt and envy; he was the avatar of lust, true but couldn't he not do this on your birthday at least and pay attention to you.

You could bet as to how pathetic you were looking drinking demonus with tears in your eyes and surrounded by demons who could just swallow you whole without your lover even batting an eye. Afterall, he'd rather be someone's bed warmer than your boyfriend.

"Hey...are you okay?" Honestly, you didn't know this stranger's name or anything about him but he still had some concern for your well-being; way more than your beloved however made you self-conscious as how pathetic you may have appeared and let your emotions get the best of you in front of unknown people.

"Yea..." you replied flushed from embarrassment and the crimson liquid that rested in your glass. It was really humiliating and made you feel awfully shy at the same time.

"If you say so, but don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything bothering you or if—" He leans closer to whisper in your ear before continuing "—someone's bothering you..." His voice was authoritative yet gentle much akin to a soft breeze from the human world despite being a demon.

"Oh! And I'm Ethan..." a blush ghosted over his cheeks as he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself while you told him yours as he gave you his number offering to help you just in case.

Truth be told, you were smiling to yourself glancing on the tissue that he wrote his number on and the fact that he even wrote happy to help made you grin wider. It was such a sweet gesture.

However unknownst to you, Asmo seemed to have noticed the whole interaction and was fuming with envy; so jealous that he could put Levi to shame. His face burned with heat and beads of sweat rolled down. He hated how that putrid demon had the audacity to flirt and blush at you yet his anger only stirred further when you smiled at him.

The avatar of lust stormed over to you and dragging you out of the fall, harsh grip on your wrist that would probably leave a bruise and then slammed you against the cold wall in the alleyway.

"What are you—!!" You were muffled by his lips smashing against yours; hands roaming your body as desire burned in your veins. Lips synced and danced against each other into a steamy make-out session however he pulled away.

"Why were you flirting with that guy?! You know that demons can hurt you then why my darling must you do this?!" It was irritating as to how he interrogated you but didn't even consider his own actions and the way he neglected you.

Did he even remember your birthday..?

"You say this as if YOU weren't smothering some random people in front of your girlfriend on OUR date!!" And finally, he realized what he's been doing all day. He was avoiding and ignoring you, too busy and consumed by his own...thoughts while you constantly tried to spend quality time with him.

"Baby...I'm sorry..." He coos gently holding your face and cradling you as tears cascaded your face. You looked so miserable because him and he made an internal promise to treat you better and not neglect your emotions.

"Y-you even forgot my birthday..." you sobbed into his soft hands as his eyes widened before he kissed you again. This time much gently and lovingly; full of adoration and affection but desperate for you.

You knew he meant it but forgiving is easier said than done. Even if you would accept him, it'd much later as for now, you wanted him to show is emotions; his real self that was vulnerable and loving; one that was guilty of hurting you. One that loved you beyond his own sin.

You would be lying if you said your heart wasn't melting for him as his hand intertwined with yours while the other rested around your waist and blush littered his face; all for you.

All of him softened just for you; all those emotions showered upon you because all of his love was meant for you.

Beelzebub

Gluttony is like a venom that spreads in your body; turning one into a hungry beast ready to devour his prey and another into a starved being—but for somebody who personified the sin in itself would be beyond a monster or an other horrendous creature imaginable.

Thus, can you really blame Beelzebub for ingesting the whole food supply of house of lamentation alongside of some cutlery after a seemingly intense workout as well 7 hours of helping satan shift his books in order to clean the empty space.

He was salivating at the sight of everything before as his vision molded it into something edible...delicious and well; in front of him were you, standing there awkwardly as his eyes hovered over you however not in a lustful but more like a locking the meat of your bones manner.

"B-beel, you alright..?" His intense gaze made you feel uncomfortable as you shifted in your place yet he didn't blink once as if his hunger overtook him...making him forget who you were.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't move an inch without him lunging at you with those eyes full of hunger for anything to satiate the emptiness within his stomach including you. However, Luck was on your side since it was your own birthday as Asmodeus happened to pass by the scene hoisting his phone up taking selfish before rushing towards you.

"Darling, Beel, what are you guys... doing?" By the end of his question, he knew what was coming. He is well aquaintated with Beel's endless hunger that violently shook the atmosphere in the whole house.

As you stood unblinking staring back at the avatar of gluttony trembling with fear whilst his ragged breaths were heard in the silence of the hall. The very next second he pounced at you transforming into his demon form; claws beared as if he was readily about to rip your heart out.

Yet somehow you were alive; alive and thrown over like a sack of potatoes on Asmo's shoulder as he sprinted towards his room with an echoing sound of certain rumbling in the background that made shiver in dread.

"Honey, you're alright. You're safe, okay? Phew!" He collapsed next to you on the floor next to you after ensuring the door was properly locked, clearly out of breath while still attempting to comfort your troubled form.

Despite knowing he cannot control his hunger, you couldn't help but tighten your throat or fall victim to the ache plastered within your chest. He loves you, you know it but this...hurt more than expected.

The clutches of gluttony were like shackles that bound him and drove him to try to...the thought alone makes you want throw up or is it because his twin succeeded at a similar task.

"Hey...Mc, don't cry, darling. It'll all be okay, I promise! Forget everything it's your birthday, isn't it?" The blond cradled you in his arms trying to shush away your tears meanwhile you sobbed and cried; planned everything, got up early to bake for him and even got the tickets to a movie he was excited about.

"It's so unfair! So unfair, Asmo!!" Why did this have to happen when all you did was try your best? Why are you doomed to fail at every given task? Was this all your fault?

Such thoughts consumed you wholly as your sobs turned into more cries that dragged Asmo's poor heart along with it; it hurt him so much to see someone he considered family be hurt so much. To be broken that they're reduced to a teary mess on the floor.

In the hallway, Lucifer and Satan towered upon Beelzebub who finally calmed down, happily chomping the food he was given; almost uncaring of his twin that laid kissing the ground with a large bruise forming on his forehead.

"W-where *chomp* is cupcake?" He muttered with a mouthful, thinking you must be hungry and not even remembering what he did as he was a puppet under the control of his sin.

"In Asmodues's room..." Lucifer sighed while Satan raged at the sight of the havoc wrecked upon his book—cursed ones, collector's edition, etc. They were everywhere torn into half or bites into and discarded afterwards.

"They must be sobbing since you were ever so nice to them on their birthday!" Satan mocked knowing how badly his brother fucked up while the orange head gushed the memories right into his eyes. Each moment he made a decision worse than the other.

"Oh my poor Mc, sleep well..." you didn't realize how exhausted you were from the whole event that you passed out between Asmo's arms who later tucked you within the comforting confines of your own bed.

But peace never really lasted long as you woke up, only to be greeted by a decorated room, a cake with several other snacks littered on the table and Beelzebub by your side with apologetic eyes as a melody played accompanied by the voices belonging to the remaining brothers.

"I'm sorry, cupcake...I didn't mean to scare you or hurt you, I just don't know what's wrong with me but please forgive me...I love you..." His eyes bore guilt as he was reminded of an older time, an older mistake before his hands caged yours affectionately before kissing them lovingly.

The orange headed demon never wished to be more than your protector, that gives away his life to save yours but also a lover that wants to build a family with you; one that he loves dearer than himself.

Belphegor

Does fate really hate you? If not, why must it be you who suffers with people misunderstanding you or blaming you for actions not performed by you?

"Come on, it's not that bad...just a stupid nightmare!" You hopped onto your feet before changing into your outfit for the day; one that made you feel good about yourself unlike the haunting nightmares that weren't leaving you alone.

As you left your room trying your best to force a smile out, there was a voice that felt familiar as it belonged to a certain great demon who bestowed the wishes of having the best birthday.

"Happy birthday, h-human!" He spoke loudly as if reminding the others of the day despite the whole hall being empty. The gesture in itself was funny, his hand putting your head like a puppy except for the part he himself looked like one.

"Thanks, mammon." And there it was your signature smile that could possibly make anybody melt, though how could you believe it; a rose can never see its reflection.

Reaching the dining hall, the atmosphere felt tense as if everyone was on edge, all but one person. He was missing entirely. Belphegor wasn't there. Was he still asleep?

Before you could ask, Lucifer announced "Belphegor will not be joining us today." And continued to finish his breakfast with what seemed to be a bothered expression.

"Hey beel, what happened?" You couldn't help wonder what did your boyfriend did this time to piss of the eldest and if so, why wasn't satan assisting the crime. "Belphi, h-he said some really mean things..." beelzebub was feeling guilty fill up his stomach, his appetite dying or perhaps killed by someone else.

"Okay..." you knew that the orange headed demon was hiding something, swallowing his own words however why you just couldn't decipher. His voice was strained that it made you feel very uneasy about what really conspired when you were asleep.

"Levi, can you tell me what really happened? Please!!" You pleaded with puppy eyes as soon as the remaining brothers had dispersed from the dining hall; to avoid the extra ears and overly exaggerated explanations.

"Normie, first off promise me you won't tell anybody that i told you this!" He whisper-yelled as you nodded your head vigorously. "Okay--fine, so belphi woke up in a super sour mood and since lucifer decided to call him to the dining hall himself...he said a lot of mean things..."

Leviathan felt a bitter taste in his mouth knowing his next words would most likely ruin your birthday and put you into doubt of your own relationship and partner.

"He spoke a lot of nonsense about lucifer, you know normie...And he--um, he said you weren't that great and just kinda wasted his time w-which is like total bullshit, right? Like normie, you're like Henry 3.0, totally cool and awesome!" He tried his best to soothe the wound he had to give you in order for the truth to be told.

But there it was, a sound of your own heart being crushed and sensation of wet tears dripping down your cheeks. It hurt you so much to hear that your lover spoke of you behind your back that you couldn't take it anymore and sprinted all the way back to your room; leaving Leviathan to only his worry and concern in the dining hall.

Especially on your birthday, that in itself felt like a cheap move being played on you as you felt needles pricking through your chest, and it hurt so much. It felt like the nightmares were true when they played the same scenario where he used you; he used you like a pawn.

Meanwhile, in the twins' room, Belphegor laid in bed with a weird feeling filling him; one that felt so heavy that he couldn't sleep it off. But why? He just couldn't pinpoint.

"Belphi, have spoken with Mc yet? It's their birthday...you should really go to see them..." the avatar of gluttony had his head lowered as he pouted; visibly hungry but at a lack of food.

"WHAT!" "Yea its their birthday, belphi..?" Belphegor panicked for at least 5 minutes before gathering himself and rushing to the kitchen to make something--a cake, should it be okay but what if you're craving ramen instead..? Or something salty? SHIT

He's never been so frantic and panicked; he felt like a single mother raising 6 children...wait why does that sound familiar? ANYWAYS, no time for that.

It took about 2 hours for the whole thing to be prepared; while he had tasked satan to buy your favorite snacks. In the end, he was drenched in sweat from the whole last minute preparation that he did.

On the other hand, you were passed out on your bed; tears dried up on your face and slightly puffy lips and very gracelessly flopped onto your bed.

Belphegor's heart ached at the sight of you, he knew his words have been heard by someone who didn't deserve them. Who deserved love and not such cruel things.

"Love, wake up...c'mon its your birthday..." He voice was gentle as if a one wrong word could shatter you like glass and his hands caressed your cheeks; before kissing you passionately.

You rubbed your eyes as your boyfriend kissed your forehead and pulled you off of the bed. He was smothering you with kisses somewhat lazily; letting eachone feel feather like on your skin.

"Happy birthday my star, I'm sorry for what is said earlier...I promise you that I never meant any of it...I just--lost myself to anger, I'm sorry." He's efforts were visible in both his voice and your room; the blanket Fort certainly seemed impressive and most likely he had your favorite movie paused.

"It's not okay to speak such things about you're partner belphi on any day let alone their birthday. Yet I am much kinder than you think...I forgive you." You pouted with fake anger evident in your voice; playing pretend was fun as hr fell for your words in the beginning but definitely caught up in the end.

And as the day came to a close, you both were snuggled into each other's warmth and cuddling; the harsh words and hot tears forgotten or perhaps changed into smiles of contentment.

Afterall, belphegor was your dark sky and you were his star; without one the other would feel empty and out of place. He was the one who wanted to drown into the depths with you or burn with the passion he held for you...And both remain a pleasure to him...

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

A/n; I had no ideas for belphi and was abt to write he slept that it off like he was in a coma xD

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Anyways,

ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

safe word angst with slash and femreader? like she uses their safeword and feels bad and slash comforts her

Warnings: Smut, bondage, use of safeword, slight angst, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Slash had come back from tour and decided he needed to make up for lost time, the second he was through the front door he was on you.

Axl had been particularly difficult throughout the tour, Slash always called you and complained so you expected some anger to linger in him when he was with you but this? You hadn't expected this.

He tied you to the bed with his belt around your wrists, pushing your face into the mattress as he slammed his cock deep in you, girth stretching you out just right, at least that's how it usually was.

Tonight was different, to be fair it had started out fine and you loved when he got rough but after a hours of overstimulating you and not letting you cum your whole body just started to ache all over.

"Slash-! Slash, sto-stop!" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body bouncing up and down on the mattress.

Slash raised his hand and brought his palm down on your ass in a harsh slap, then he did it again and a third time for good measure, each hit ripped a yelp from your throat. "Shut up, you know you love it, you know you've been waiting for this, fucking cockslut." He said through gritted teeth.

His words hurt more than the physical contact. They had no place to project pain and it sunk deep inside you, into your brain, latching on and ruining you from the inside and working its way out.

When it started hurting you thought you'd tough it out, figuring he'd be done soon. Then he kept going. And going. And hurting.

"Pumpkin..." You managed to mutter.

Slash's hand came down on your ass again. "Say it again, bitch, louder so I can actually hear your whore mouth." He bit.

You bit your lip, choking back a sob as you tried to get your voice steady. "Pumpkin." You said, hoping your voice was loud enough this time.

It must have been given how fast Slash stopped. He immediately pulled out of you and went to take his belt off your wrists, your body finally getting a break from his abuse.

You curled in on yourself, holding yourself tightly and rolling away from him. "Hey, hey, sweetheart, it's ok... it's ok, c'mere..." He said, voice soft as he laid down beside you, reaching out to pull you closer.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." You blurted, your sobs filling the air.

Slash sat up slightly, staring down at you with furrowed brows. "You're sorry?" He asked.

You nodded, another sob racking your body. "I'm sorry, you just-just needed me because you're-you're mad at Axl and I couldn't even be good for you." You cried.

Slash stared a moment longer, slowly shaking his head before getting out of bed. He went to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind himself and making you flinch.

You thought he was mad at you, infuriated even. All he asked was this one little thing of you and you couldn't do it.

You slowly, painfully, sat up and tried to get off the bed. Your legs hurt and you didn't even get to your feet before a hand pushed you back down.

It wasn't harsh, it was just Slash standing over you with a worried look in his eye. He wasn't letting you stand up yet, not when you were crying and hurting, not when it was his fault.

He had a warm, wet cloth in his hand and started wiping you down, cleaning you up while you cried, profusely apologizing to him even after he told you to stop.

Once he was done he tossed the cloth back into the bathroom and went to the closet. He got himself into some shorts and took out a shirt before coming back to put it on you, crawling into bed soon after and pulling you onto his lap.

Slash was never one for comfort, it's not that he didn't want to he just never quite figured out how to do it. He loved you, he did, and he wouldn't let you think otherwise. But in moments when you couldn't help but think otherwise, he never knew what to do.

He'd cleaned you up, told you not to cry, that everything would be ok, he said he loved you, you were in his shirt, in his arms... He picked up the phone on the nightstand and called up your favourite fast food place, ordering you your favourite snacks.

He let out a sigh as he set the phone down, looking at you with a pout and furrowed brows still, walking himself through everything he's done so far and what more there was to do.

"I love you." He said. "I'm sorry for pushing you to say that. There's no reason I ever should've pushed you to say that."

You sniffled softly. "I'm sorry..." You muttered.

"Shut up." He said, not thinking of how harsh it came off until after it left him. "No, don't, keep talking... I like your voice... but stop apologizing, I love you so, so much, alright?" He let out a heavy sigh. Logically he knew he'd said all he could... he never was good with emotions...

"I've got you food coming and you're safe now... What do you want..?" He asked, voice soft as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tighter to his chest.

"You were just angry and... I know you weren't angry at me..." You started.

"You don't believe what I said, do you?" He asked, not letting you finish your thought. Your silence was enough of an answer for him. "I didn't mean those things... I never mean those things..." He said.

"It doesn't feel like it..." You muttered.

Slash exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, love." He said, the name sending something of comfort to you. "I never meant to hurt you like that, you didn't deserve it..." He kissed your cheek and temple, holding your hands in his.

He thought for a moment before resting his chin on your shoulder. "I love you..." He said softly. You gave a small nod but didn't say anything so he said it again. "I love you." He said it louder this time. "I love your eyes, your cheeks and your nose... I love your hair, I love how you smell..." He let out a soft breath, noticing how your body relaxed at his words. "I love your body, not because of how you make me feel but I love it because you are so beautiful and I don't always deserve you."

You looked back at him at that. Of course you thought he deserved you, you loved him that was enough, wasn't it? "I love you in every way, darling... I love your voice and I love your opinions and I love your cooking and I love everything you do for me and I love you more than I can say, you understand?"

You nodded, leaning back into him. He smiled and started placing kisses all over your face. "So, here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna hold you and tell you how much I love you and when food gets here you're going to eat it because you need to eat and then we're going to bed and tomorrow I will bring you breakfast in bed. You're not leaving the room for the next week, either... I need to remind you how important you are and I can't do that if you're out there cleaning the house or something."

You chuckled softly at his willingness to really go this far.

Slash might not be the best when it came to dealing with others emotions or expressing his own emotions, but one things for sure; Ola raised one hell of a guy, and, if you really felt the need, you could call her and she'd be right over to set him straight. And he knew that.

[slytherinshua]

CRACK UNDER PRESSURE genre ➳ academic rivals to lovers. hurt/comfort. fluff. warnings ➳ throwing up. crying. reader is burnt out/stressed/insecure. pairing ➳ leehan x fem!reader. wc ➳ 1.4k. a/n ➳ from anon, here..

“And the first place winner of the annual KOZ math competition goes to… Kim Donghyun!!”

You felt a tinge of disappointment as you heard those words for the fifth time this competition season. You felt nauseous watching the boy walk up on stage, a perfect smile forming on his face, brightening up the room. You wanted to be as perfect as him. You would never even compare to him, though.

You could feel the tears starting to build in your eyes and you panicked. You didn’t want to cry at another event, it was embarrassing. You tried to breathe steadily, focusing on Leehan’s melodic voice as he thanked the judges and took his trophy. He turned and smiled at you and your heart got caught in your chest.

You rushed out of the auditorium. When you reached the bathroom, you were already heaving in harsh coughs. You hadn’t eaten much that day so there wasn’t much to discard, but it was still painful. You sobbed and sunk to the floor of the fancy bathrooms in the school. 

You were mad at everyone. At Leehan for being so perfect, and your parents for pressuring you to beat him when they knew deep down you couldn’t, but most of all you were mad at yourself. Why couldn’t you take the losses like a normal person? Why did you always cry and throw up and feel so sick after every competition? You were so tired of it.

You heard a soft knock on the door and looked up from your position on the floor, wiping your tears off your face hastily. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” It was Leehan.

Your throat got tight again and fresh tears threatened to spill just from hearing his voice. Why was he always like this? 

“Y/n? Can I come in?” He whispered, waiting for your answer. You couldn’t find it in you to speak just yet. Your throat felt raw and burned from your body’s actions just minutes ago. “If you don’t answer, I’m gonna come in.” He said finally. There was another pause for about 2 minutes before you finally heard the door latch clicking open and light streaming into the rest room where you still sat on the cold tile floor.

“Y/n…” You looked up, hearing your name fall from his lips. He looked horrified. You had never seen his eyes hold such obvious worry. He was by your side in an instant, pushing back the hair that had fallen in your face and rubbing circles on your back.

“Leehan…” You whispered, feeling all types of disgusting, both physically and mentally. You wanted to flinch away from him, scared at the thought that he was seeing your imperfect side, but you didn’t have the strength and it would only scare him more.

Leehan crouched next to you for the next twenty minutes, waiting patiently until you calmed down fully, his hand never resting the soft motions on your back. The little action made you realise that you liked him a little more than you originally thought, and that came along with a twinge of disappointment knowing that you didn’t feel good enough for him.

//

The next day in class was a hard one. Despite Leehan’s soft smiles whenever he made eye contact with you, the loss of the previous day still held firmly in your mind. You couldn’t concentrate on your tests in class, let alone the lessons. You had always found getting straight A’s to be easy, but you now felt as if you didn’t have any more effort to put into your grades.

Leehan was probably the first to notice your change in demeanour. The competition day was constantly playing on repeat in his brain. He could read you perfectly from your eyes which was both a blessing and a curse for him. He cared about you more than you knew. Whenever he could tell that you were struggling it tore him up inside, but you were so good at concealing it that barely anyone else picked up on it.

“Hey,” Leehan mumbled, taking a seat in front of you and carefully passing you a chocolate milk.

“Hey…” You replied, keeping your eyes firmly situated on your notes. You had already spent too much of the day staring at the pretty boy in front of you, any longer and he might notice.

“Are you doing better?” There was a softness in his tone, portraying just how worried he had been. Your heart swelled a bit as you toyed with the small carton of chocolate milk. Should you tell him the truth?

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” You asked, glancing up at him.

“I promise I won’t.” He held out his pinky to you, offering a pinky promise which made you smile. You connected your fingers and stamped on it. Leehan didn’t let go of your hand, instead lacing his fingers with yours and placing his hand back on the desk, prompting you to start talking whenever you felt ready.

“My parents put this immense pressure on me to do well… And when I was younger, it was manageable. But, everything is so much more competitive in high school. No matter how hard I try, I just… keep falling behind.” Your words were getting quieter and more mumbled as you felt your nose start to burn and tears start to surface. You furiously tried to blink them back. You had already cried in front of Leehan one time this week.

Leehan squeezed your hand gently, picking up on the switch in your body language quicker than anyone else ever would. Leehan prided himself in his observation skills, and if there was anyone he wanted to observe, it was you. He found himself starting to make small circles on your smaller hand with his thumb, hoping to provide what little comfort he could. He felt that he was being rather obvious with his hopeless crush on you, but that was the last of his worries at the current moment.

He stayed with you for the rest of the afternoon, listening to all your worries. He didn’t try to solve your problems. He knew that would only stress you out more. He just lended you his ear to listen to your concerns, and his hand for you to hold. And that was all you ever needed.

With the help of Leehan, you built up the confidence to quit your competitions. With the promise to focus on your academic record and keeping your grades up, your parents, surprisingly, understood where you were coming from. 

Leehan promised that he would make sure you didn’t overwork yourself, and he kept up with it like his life depended on it. He would study with you, enforcing mandatory study breaks every hour. He would treat you to lunch or dinner, and always walk you home. What was once more of a rivalry was starting to feel more like a friendship. Leehan was the most comfortable to be around, and your feelings only grew for him everyday. 

“First place: Kim Donghyun!” You mimicked one of the judges' booming voices, teasing Leehan about his win at the science fair earlier that day. He was walking you home after dinner, the sun was just starting to tuck itself behind the horizon line, a glowing orange and pink sunset lighting up the sky before being consumed by a deep dark blue. Giggles came next out of your mouth and Leehan felt his heart speed up at the sound. You were happy again.

Leehan stopped walking, turning his face to you, “Your laughter is so… pretty.” Your heart caught in your throat at his words. The way he smiled at you made you feel almost dizzy. You didn’t know what to do except stare at him. He looked too perfect, like a Greek God; face perfectly sculpted, smile gorgeously crafted with the power to make you feel sickly in love.

He pulled you into his arms, getting shy from your gaze on him and needing to hide his pink cheeks somehow. The position only made you more flustered, though. He was so, so close. The thought of kissing him was on your mind, but you knew you didn’t have the confidence to do it.

Luckily, Leehan did. He held your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours slowly, carefully. His lips held all the sentiments that he hadn’t said out loud. 

I’m proud of you. 

I’m happy if you’re happy.

I love you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ boynextdoor taglist: @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @metalchick529

[justabigassnerd]

Bullying

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 2,081

Warnings - bullying, injuries, passing out, worried Jake & Bradley, angst, fluff, swearing

Summary - your bullies start to get physically aggressive with you, leading you to hide your injuries from your dads. but secrets never stay secret for too long...

A/N - hey y'all I be here with a new part of Hangman Junior for you all to enjoy! this was a request sent in by @honkyhonkyyessir and I just hope I did the idea justice! I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

You thought that after the events of fighting back against the people who insulted your dads, you’d be able to get through the rest of your school life unbothered.

How wrong you were.

Apparently, fighting back might as well have slapped a big target on your back with flashing lights, demanding to be aimed at. You couldn’t remember when the insults became acts of physical violence, but it soon became your new normal to hide injuries you sustained from your dad and Bradley.

One day, as soon as you finished your lunch in the large school dining hall, you ducked into the nearest bathroom to inspect the injuries you knew were forming under your shirt.

“Of fucking course.” You whisper through gritted teeth as you stand in front of a mirror, lifting the bottom of your shirt and seeing the beginning of a bruise forming on your side from where one jock decided it would be funny to launch his football at you as hard as possible while you made your way towards the school building.

You sigh as you inspect the bruise further, gingerly poking at it to explore the pain level and wincing at the tenderness. You knew you had every right to fight back. To show them that a Seresin couldn’t be pushed around that easily. But you couldn’t find it within yourself to risk getting into trouble at school. After the fight you had about people insulting your dads, Jake had made you promise not to get into any more fights. He and Bradley both understood where you were coming from, but they didn’t want you getting into trouble or getting hurt. So you respected their wishes and didn’t fight back, although you longed to. It got harder with each passing day as the guys got bolder in their bullying. You were grateful though, that you got home from school before your dad and Bradley which meant you had time to take some painkillers that would kick in by the time you had walked Moose and your dads had gotten home.

On this particular day though, the boys that picked on you were much more aggressive than usual. Tripping you in the hallway, bumping you into lockers, whatever they could get away with, they were doing. When the school day had ended you planned on slipping out as quickly and as quietly as possible but of course, things never went the way you wanted them to. You were spotted moments after exiting the building by the jocks who always mingled outside before their practice began.

“Hey Seresin!” You barely had the time to register the words that were yelled over to you before you felt something make harsh contact with the side of your head, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the ground, not having nearly enough time to break your fall meaning your head made strong contact with the concrete floor.

Dazed from the contact between your head and the concrete you remained on the floor for a moment, trying to pull yourself together enough to get up and make your way home so you can hide and lick your wounds over the weekend until it all starts up again on Monday. Just as you decided to move, one of the jocks crossed to you and landed a strong kick to your stomach, making you curl into yourself, a groan of pain escaping you as the group of boys jeer loudly. Through your blurry vision, you could make out students walking past, not even sparing you a glance as they rushed past, hoping your tormenters wouldn’t suddenly turn on them. Often, you wished people would just step in and help, or just make sure you were okay. But you knew they just wanted to protect themselves above everything. And all the teachers were still inside the building finishing up any work or prepping to leave themselves, so you had no hope of a teacher coming to your aid either.

Before anything else could be done, one of the boys noticed the time and they all rushed off to go to their football practice. A minute after they left you slowly sat up, coughing and wincing, desperately trying to blink the blurriness from your vision. You eased your bag back onto your back and bit back a wince as you forced yourself to your feet. Your vision was swimming, and your head was throbbing. You knew that once you got home you should take Moose out for a walk but with your head in so much pain you were sure he could forgive you if you just wanted to curl up on your bed with him and nap the headache off before your dad and Bradley got home.

You made your way home, head throbbing and convinced you probably looked drunk to anybody seeing you pass due to your inability to walk in a straight line. Thankfully, you made it home with little to no problems until you reached your front door, which due to the blurriness in your vision, took four attempts to get the key into the keyhole to unlock the door. When you enter the house, Moose is instantly by your side, tail wagging as he barks in greeting, making your head feel like it’s going to explode.

“Moose, buddy quiet down.” You plead the dog, grateful he listened to your request and sat himself down opposite you, panting happily as his tail swished side to side.

“Hey y/n/n!” You almost jumped when you heard your dad’s voice come from the living room. You were still hidden from his line of sight so you took the opportunity to lean against the wall, hoping your vision would focus.

“Hey dad, you’re home early.” You try to joke, glancing down when you feel Moose prodding at your upper thigh with his nose. If your vision wasn’t blurry, you would’ve seen the worried look in your pet’s eyes as he continued to poke at you, trying to communicate his wishes.

“We both finished up our paperwork early so we got out of there before Cyclone could give us anything else.” You hear Bradley chuckle as you squeeze your eyes shut, silently begging your head to fix itself before you get found out. You heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the hallway and you opened your eyes to see your dad and Bradley poking their heads around the corner, faces falling when they notice how positively miserable you look.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jake asks, eyebrow raised as you nod.

“Yeah, just got a little headache.” You lie, your vision growing darker from the nodding motion and before anyone else could say anything. Your legs stopped supporting your weight as you gave in to the inviting darkness.

Jake was quick to catch you before you hit the floor, looking up at Bradley desperately as both men panicked.

“y/n, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Jake says, turning his attention back to you, watching carefully for any response and feeling his heartbeat grow louder in his ears when you don’t respond.

“Let’s get her up to her room. We can monitor her here and when she wakes up, we can figure out whether to take her to hospital or not.” Bradley says, ever the level-headed one, as Jake nods, carefully getting to his feet as he keeps you securely in his arms, taking you up to your room and laying you on your bed. Moose jumped up on the bed just as Jake took a step back, having snuck in unnoticed.

“Moose, you should get down.” Bradley starts, stopping himself from saying anything else when Moose eases himself down alongside you, resting his head on your lap and whining softly, clearly worried about you as his eyes dart from Jake to you in the hopes Jake can fix what’s wrong with you.

“She’ll wake up soon, bud. She’ll be okay.” Jake promises the dog as he eases himself down on the desk chair to wait for you to wake up. Bradley crosses to Jake, takes Jake’s hand in his and squeezes softly, both men hoping it won’t be too long before you wake up.

You woke up just under five minutes later, eyes blinking open and being silently relieved that your vision was no longer blurry or swimming.

“y/n? Are you okay?” You glance over to see your dad leaping up from the chair, crossing to your bedside as Moose perks up at your side, lifting his head as his tail begins to thump against the duvet.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry if I scared you.” You mutter, glancing at both Jake and Bradley before trying to sit up, being stopped by a gentle hand on your shoulder from Bradley who shakes his head softly, encouraging you to stay put as Moose stretches up the bed, resting his head right where the bruise on your side was and neither Jake nor Bradley missed the slight wince you gave from the contact.

“y/n, sweetheart. I’d like the truth, please. What’s going on?” Jake asks softly, perching on the edge of your bed and looking at you, his worry evident all over his face. You reached out to stroke Moose, fingers tangling in his fur as Moose tentatively licks your arm. Comforted by your dog curled up next to you and the gentle expressions of both Jake and Bradley, you opened up. You told them about the bullying, about how the boys on the football team found enjoyment in treating you like shit. By the end of the explanation, both Jake and Bradley were furious, unable to believe that they were getting away with this.

“Those little shits better hope I never see them because I hate to think of what I’d do to them if I did.” Jake seethes, teeth gritted as he fights the urge not to run out of the house in search of them right now.

“Jake, the sentiment is appreciated but let’s not picture assaulting minors, as tempting as it is, it’s not the solution.” Bradley says, a hand braced on Jake’s shoulder just in case he tries to leap up and leave the house.

“We have to do something, Bradley. They’re hurting her.” Jake says, looking up at his husband who lets out a soft sigh, understanding why Jake wanted to fix this.

“And we’ll figure out a solution over the next couple of days. For now let’s let y/n rest, give her some painkillers, and let her relax. She’s okay.” Bradley says softly, watching as Jake lets out a soft exhale, feeling Jake’s body relax with the exhale and lifting his hand from his shoulder. Bradley excuses himself to grab some painkillers, leaving you and Jake alone in the room.

“I’m sorry for hiding it from you.” You mumble, briefly glancing over at your dad before looking back at your lap, ashamed of yourself for hiding this from him.

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me about stuff like this. I can do my best to help you no matter the problem. That’s my job.” Jake says, his voice never straying from that soft tone you had grown so accustomed to growing up.

“I know. I just don’t want to worry you.” You admit, glancing at Moose who is watching you quietly.

“I always worry about you, sweetheart. That’s also part of my job as your father.” Jake says with a gentle chuckle, bringing a smile to your face as well.

“If you’re ever out and you need help. Call me or Bradley and we’ll get to you as quick as we can, okay?” Jake then says, looking at you as you nod lightly.

“Okay.” You confirm just as Bradley enters the room, painkillers, and a glass of water in hand. He hands you the items and you take the painkillers with a swig of water and relax back against your pillow after placing the glass on your bedside table. The two men then left you alone to rest, leaving you in the dutiful care of Moose who was more than happy to curl further into you and watch over you. As you set your laptop alongside you, opening a movie to watch you thought back on the threat that your dad had made towards the jocks that bullied you and laughed lightly.

You knew that if he ever did see those boys Bradley would have to hold him back.

taglist (comment or ask to be tagged):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld @shanimallina87 @madstxo @chaoticassidy @padsdarlg @lauraseresin @alohastitch0626 @angelbabyange @kmc1989

[coffee-430]

Heyy there!!! A huge congratulations on your milestone!!! ♡

Can i maybe request 9 with scaramoche from genshin? It would be great if nsfw but it's all up to you! Whatever you feel most comfortable writing! Have a great day/night! ʕ　˵·ᴥ·ʔ♡

—100 Followers Event!

No. 9: "I hate it when you ignore me. Must I need to teach you a lesson?" With Yandere Scaramouche

Character: Scaramouche

Warnings: yandere themes, non-consensual touching, obsessive behaviour, mentions of blood, rape, physical abuse

Note: No specifications, so reader is gender neutral in this one. Hope this was to your liking!

A low growl came from him, his eyes pierced onto your figure who was looking at the floor in defeat.

"How many times must I say this to you?"

He had caught you.

Again.

And this time, you could tell he wasn't going to be lenient towards you.

He had both your wrists chained and legs all bruised up, a punishment for your 'bad behaviour' as he would put it.

"..." You stared blankly at the floor. You hated this. Every second— every moment, you had enough of it. But every time you get a bit of taste of what it was once like before meeting him— he captures you.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Scaramouche would go on and on about how stupid it was— or how the notion of escaping him even got to your mind despite your many failed attempts.

You just stared, tired of it all, tired of everything, tired of him.

"—!?"

A sudden pull of your chin made you meet his gaze in surprise. Scaramouche leaned down to your face as he sneered.

"I hate it when you ignore me. Must I need to teach you a lesson?"

Your breath hitched, never liking when things come to that. You vigorously shook your head and tried to push him off.

"N-No please!" You screamed. "I'm sorry— I won't try to run away again! Please!"

"I've heard of those words before, and look where that got you." He chuckled sinisterly at you, he took your wrists and had you pinned down on the floor.

"Ack—!" You winced when your body made contact with the hard ground. Your body trembled in fear at what he was about to do.

"I still think I need to punish you. After all, you've been behaving badly the whole day." A hand was placed on your thigh while the other kept your arms in place.

"No! I don't want this!" You screamed, desperately wanting to get away.

"You deserve this." He smirked, getting on top of you as his hand slid on to the hem of your shorts— pulling it off without any warning.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, tears began to prick the corners of your eyes. "Tears already?" He chuckled.

"I haven't even started yet."

With one hand, he had you pin down and his other hand began undressing his lower half.

Once he did, he brought back his hand and placed it on your exposed region. He gave it a slap— instinctively wincing when his palm made that harsh move.

You yelp, gritting your teeth as he continues his abuse.

"Fuck," He grinned, staring down at you, loving the way how your body reacted. "You look so pretty all twitching like that."

You didn't know when he had stopped, because the next thing you know, he slipped inside a finger— catching you off guard.

"Ah!" You screamed, struggling to move away but it only made things worse. Another went in and then another.

You screamed at the violation, eyes fully crying. "Please! S-Stop!" You tried to plead again, but Scaramouche was never one to heed your pathetic cries.

As much as you hated to admit it, you curse your body for reacting the opposite of what you really felt.

"Heh, you're so wet now."

You hate this. You hate him.

Your cries fell upon deaf ears as you tried to move away, but it was futile. The living doll on top of you was far too strong than your current weakened form.

"—! Agh!"

A sharp shrill came out of you the moment he inserted himself. Everything felt so painful. Everything hurts to the core.

He began moving his hips and you could do nothing but endure and cry at every cruel touch.

"Ngh— so tight..." He sighed, one hand on your wrists while the other was squeezing your waist. "You feel so good, (Y/n)."

You arched your back every time he pushed back against you. Your body's reactions were made against your own will but he didn't care.

"You're taking me in so tightly— Ha... I bet this is what you wanted from the start." He laughed, every thrust of his was beginning to pick up the pace.

"I bet this is why you wanted to be punished so bad."

"No! Just s-stop! Please!"

Your throat hurt from the screaming and crying you were doing, and your body was starting to feel tired from all the struggling. Every moment hurt but there was nothing you can do about it.

You regret everything. Meeting him, pitying him, and giving him a taste of your kindness— everything. You shouldn't have done anything, you should've just left him alone and went on your way.

But alas, your own kindness has become the very thing that has led you to your doom.

"Mmh~ I'm close." Scaramouche announced, pounding inside you senselessly as his body began to feel the closeness of release.

You, on the other hand, was forced to feel such sensuality. Your body also began to feel its climax approaching.

"S-Scara..." You pleaded, voice becoming silent. Your face was wet with tears and sweat, your body aches all over.

He did not stop, pushing and pulling himself inside you— violating your insides with an animalistic speed. "Fuck— cum— I'm going to cum inside you."

At his words, something snapped at you. "No! Don't! Anything but that!" You shrieked, shaking your head vigorously and felt disgust at the thought of him finishing inside you.

"Shut up, whore. You're going to take it and I'm going to make you." He growled and his movements began erratic.

"Please! Please! Please!"

Breathing was starting to become difficult for you, chanting all the words that meant 'No' to him, but none made him stop.

"Cumming— I'm cumming...!" He hissed, finally reaching his climax and came inside you.

Your body did the same.

Arching your back as you orgasmed at his ruthless assault.

Scaramouche panted on top of you. He felt so warm inside and it disgusted you. You whimpered and sobbed once your body came down from its high.

"Shh," He shushed you, mockingly patting your head as to feign comfort. "You had it coming, sweetheart. You should've expected this."

He laughed, grinning at his own statement. His eyes looked pleased seeing you all broken, all hurt, and all pathetic beneath him.

Yes,

You should've seen this coming. You should've just sat still and behaved, maybe none of this would've happened? Who knows?

Still, all of this happened because you felt sorry for him. All because you were too kind for your own good.

And now, you must face the consequences of your own actions.

Because at the end of the day— all you can do is wait for some miracle to come and save you from this hell you managed to put yourself in.

[ay-masakali]

Dazai Birthday Week, Day 4

Aaah I got sick and I couldn't function and now I wrote this in under an hour because I had to participate in @dazaibirthdayweek2024

Prompt: Mentorship

Characters: Dazai and Atsushi (not romantic)

Warnings: Atsushi typical terrible self worth, angst

Enjoy!!!!!

“I don’t deserve to live, Dazai-san, I don’t, I don’t.”

Dazai’s not suited for this. Anyone else would do a better job than him.

“Why am I even breathing? I shouldn’t be allowed to breathe.” Atsushi is gasping, air not reaching his lungs, hands trembling between both of them where they’re knelt on the ground. 

The half mangled bodies of their targets are being carted out of the warehouse. Police sirens blare, shrill and headache inducing. Dazai has brought them behind the warehouse, to get Atsushi away from the suffocating darkness.  

They’re not dead. They could’ve endured much worse and survived.

“I don’t Dazai-san, I- I- No, Dazai-san, I don’t have permission I can’t, I can’t.”

The enemy ability user’s shield faltered under their attacks, the Agency having overestimated their strength, Atsushi their spearhead as he often is.

What could human flesh do against claws that rip through abilities?

Dazai tries to shush him but to his horror a teary sob wrenches its way out of the boy’s throat.

It was Dazai’s plan, and it’s Dazai’s fault but Atsushi is in no state to see that. There’s blood drying on his hands and words tumbling out his mouth and each one sends a stab at his heart.

Anyone would be better. But Kunikida is out handling the police and no one else came with them. 

Atsushi’s eyes are glazing over and he doesn’t have time. What would ground him? He hasn’t responded to anything Dazai’s said. He’s aware at least that Dazai is here with him. Pain or shouting are out of the question. No, those would only send him spiralling further.

Simple touch?

It’s worth trying. Atsushi does not expect harsh touches from him. He's always leaned into the softer ones, subtle and unconscious like if he acknowledged it the touch would go away. It has him thinking of another boy, dark hair with white tips. Any physical contact they shared were blows and nullifying taps and he was never one for physical affection but that boy would never expect soft touches from him would he? 

Atsushi's hands have found his hair, tugging and digging. His muttering has turned feverish, he's looking down not talking to Dazai anymore. He acts before the boy's completely lost to his head, he can think about everything later.

He coaxes Atsushi's hands away from his hair, letting them clutch onto his own hand. They still shake, tremors he tries to soothe with gentle strokes. He’s crying now, words unable to make it out of his mouth.

“Atsushi-kun,” he chides and his voice sounds so fond he’d feel sick in any other circumstance. He raises his other hand to wipe the tears mingling with the blood on his face. “That’s no way to talk about yourself.”

He leans into the contact but gives no indication of having heard him.

Dazai feels sick. His hands forever stained with blood, cupping his face with such care when his presence alone should be far far away from someone as pure as Atsushi. His blood infected with Mafia Black shouldn’t be so close to the boy’s skin. Someone who cares so much, cries so freely for these people he doesn’t know, who believes he has to prove himself worthy of being alive.

But he’s all that’s here.

“It’s rather silly isn’t it? Being allowed to live. No one dictates that, it’s only what you wish.”

Atsushi shakes his head, again with the same desperation he uttered those terrible words. “But I’m not. Not until I– No no no no, I’m trying, I’m trying why can’t you see why can’t you see?”

And Dazai knows he’s lost him. He’s addressing someone else entirely, grip on Dazai’s hand crushing, eyes looking beyond him.

So he leans against the wall, pulling Atsushi with him to lie against his front. He wraps his arms around him, one hand carding through his hair the other around his torso. 

The shaking has stopped and that counts for something. Though it’s replaced with chest heaving sobs, his face buried in Dazai’s shoulder, hands clutching his trenchcoat.

Anybody else would’ve been better.

He thinks of Akutagwa and he doesn’t know why his thoughts are straying. He never hugged him like this. Showing such vulnerability would be a weakness. Weakness that Dazai would exploit then and there to teach him a lesson. To never forget and never make that mistake again. After all, weakness in the mafia meant death.

The light is kinder. It lets Atsushi break down with no consequence. It lets Dazai be here, to help pick him up later, build him back up.

The light is kinder. 

Dazai holds him just a little tighter.

There’s another shuddering sob from Atsushi and then in a voice so quiet and small it aches, he says, “I want to live.”

“You will,” Dazai vows. “You will Atsushi-kun. You’ll grow old and get wrinkles and back pain, you’ll get married to someone who loves you. I’ll make sure of it.” 

His fingers tighten in the other’s shirt. His words fall on deaf ears.

Atsushi’s cries die out. He falls asleep soon after.

Kunikida finds them like that, Dazai’s gaze dark, nose buried in the boy’s hair.

Anybody would’ve been better.

[holly-louisexox]

Saviour II X Andy Biersack- Part 5

Masterlist

(Sequel to Ribcage)

Andy and Delia had finally found their happy ending in each other, Delia was living in LA with Andy and things could not be better.

With the group reuniting to complete a UK and Europe tour, some challenges threaten to tear Andy and Delia apart. Can Andy continue to try his hardest to be what Delia made, or will the couple drift apart from each other?

Juliet was stood right there at the entrance, she was the last person Andy and Delia wanted to see. So far, the plan of avoiding her had not worked for Andy and Delia, every single corner, every single small part of trying to do their jobs, she had been there; it was almost like she was haunting them, like she was purposefully trying to taunt them.

"Oh no, I guess our happy couple aren't so happy after all." She smirks almost teasingly; had Juliet heard the conversation that was had in the rom? Had she worked past and heard what had happened?

"Not now Juliet, please." Andy tries to brush her off as his hand remains firmly holding Delia's.

"I was just saying what I saw." Juliet continues to grin "We're not even together now and you're still trying to silence me."

"Right, yeah, because I was totally the controlling one wasn't I? You're the one who ruined things by drinking again and not accepting my help, you're the one who I took verbal abuse from on the daily, you're the one who fucking ruined me." Andy was careful not to raise his voice as he knew Delia was already fragile, but he tried to hold that monotone voice to hint to Juliet he was in no mood for games.

"You always were so blunt with me." Juliet shakes her head at him before turning her attention towards Delia "Delia, do you really want to be with someone so heartless? I know some guys that you'll be so much better off with, even a few girls if you happen to swing that way."

Delia was too stunned for words, was Juliet really trying to get her to leave Andy? Andy had told Delia about some of the abuse he endured from Juliet before the divorce, even during the divorce process Juliet was still verbally abusive towards him and made the divorce difficult. Juliet had broken Andy and he had just started to pick up the pieces again and show his true self. Delia knew that she needed Andy and she knew that Andy needed her, yet he appeared that Juliet was trying to get in between them both already.

"Juliet, just leave us alone. Come on Delia." Andy barks at Juliet before lovingly turning to Delia to escort her out of the building and past Juliet "I suggest that we try and call your parents on the bus, see exactly what is going on and we can check in with your dad. He seemed fine so maybe a call will reassure us that he's going to get better."

"Good idea." Delia nods quietly.

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

To say Juliet was jealous of Delia would be an understatement; she was almost green with envy. In the years that she was with Andy he never looked at her the way he does Delia, never gave her as much physical contact as he did Delia; he never even wrote a sappy Instagram post about her like he did Delia. Did Andy ever truly love her, or was it all an act he played for the public? No one could deny the love Andy felt for Delia, it was clear to everyone how he felt about the sound technician; did people have that same thought and perspective when he was with her? Juliet could not help but feel a twinge of sadness in her heart.

Over the course of the last year, Juliet had come to realise that she missed Andy and missed the company that he had provided her. Of course Juliet knew the hurt she had caused Andy, she knew that she had damaged him; she had regret every moment and every harsh word she had told him, regretted every ounce of pain she had delivered to him. After the divorce, she realised fully just what she had done, she realised that she had lost a lot of people that she cared about. As a result, she got help, she had taken the time away from music and the public eye to heal and recover from her addiction with alcohol; she had learnt to heal and be better as a person.

Supporting the band had been her idea and she had begged management to make it happen for her. She wanted to support the band to try and get close to Andy again, she wanted that second chance from him. Juliet had hoped that if Andy saw her now with her new style and her new music it would impress him enough to be with her again. But now, seeing the way he was smitten with Delia, she realised that it would be harder than she thought. It would take a lot more than a new version of her, would take a lot more than just Lilith, to win him back. She had to try and get between him and Delia, but how would she be able to do that? As horrible as it was, she did not care for Delia, did not care if she had to hurt the sound technician who had Andy glued to her, as long as she did not hurt Andy again.

After finishing her cigarette, Juliet headed inside to escape the English summer chill that had begun to fill the air. As she walked down the corridor she heard that the rest of the band and Shevy were still inside their backstage room, why had they not left yet? Were there giving Andy and Delia time alone? She never got that respect from them, she was always surrounded by the band when she was with Andy; maybe she should check in with them?

"Hello hello." Juliet sings as she walks into the room catching the attention of the band; it was unusually quiet in the room, the atmosphere was completely off with only the odd bit of chatter between the group. A joke always solves issues like this right? "God, it's miserable in here. Did somebody die or something?"

Instead of being met with laughter and a lighter tone in the room, she suddenly felt very unwelcome when the band just chose to stare at her until; someone chose to speak up.

"What do you want Juliet?" Jake asks simply; he always was the more cautious one Juliet had learnt.

"I just wanted to say hi." Juliet smiles trying not to falter "You guys killed it like always, really great performance."

"Thanks." CC nods slightly; none of the band understood why she was trying to talk to them.

"Anyway, long time no see, great show and all. I'm heading to my bus now, see you all in Bristol!" Juliet continues to smile before walking out of the room.

The band did not trust her, not one small bit. Why was she trying to be friendly with them after spending years trying to escape them and drag Andy with her? She was the reason the band almost split; she had broken Andy so much that it was almost insufferable to be in a band with him. Yet here she was trying to be all chummy with the group, how could she do that when she had been so horrible to both Delia and Andy just mere hours ago. Something wasn't adding up about Juliet, the whole band could see that, they just hoped that Juliet would not cause trouble on this tour.

"We should probably be leaving now too, the drive to Bristol is going to be about 5 hours and I want to sleep." Shevy speaks which breaks the thought track everyone was having.

"Yeah, we should check on Delia too." Lonny nods; whilst he knew he was not as close to Delia as Andy or Shevy, he had to admit he cared a lot about her. In a way, Lonny saw her as a sister, from day one she was so polite to him and he found her fascinating; especially when she stood up against Andy.

"Agreed." Jake speaks up "I'm worried about her."

"Jake, you gonna be okay man?" Jinxx asks looking at his bandmate; it was very rare that Jake spoke about his mum now, but at the beginning losing his mum really hit him hard.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's Delia we should be worried about." Jake nods trying to brush the attention away from him.

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

"Do we knock, do we just walk in? What do we do?" Jake asks the rest of the group; they had just finished loading the final pieces of equipment into the mini van that would follow and a few pieces in the underneath bus storage. 

"They would have heard us loading the things, they know we're out here." Jinxx explains. "I doubt we'd be walking in on them fucking, so I vote just walk in."

"Jinxx, I adore you, but not the time dude." Shevy shakes her head disapprovingly.

"I'm just walking in." Lonny states before opening the door of the bus and walking in; he was worried about Delia, if the others wanted to hang around then fine, he wasn't about to.

As the group followed Lonny onto the bus, they were met with silence, were Andy and Delia even here? Did they fall asleep already? Surely they weren't that long in packing away the equipment. Surely they were on the bus, they would not have gone anywhere without telling someone, plus they were heading to Bristol in the night ready for the show there tomorrow.

"Delia? Andy?" Lonny calls through the bus as the rest of the group trail behind him.

"Shhhh." is all they were met with- Andy.

Peeling the curtain back, Lonny is met with Delia asleep in the bunk, the majority of her body resting on Andy as it looks like she was holding on to him for dear life. Andy on the other hand looked extremely uncomfortable and Lonny was concerned that he would soon fall out of said bunk. After all, the bunks were only singles meaning only one person should be sleeping in it ideally; even then they were not the most comfortable of things to sleep in.

"Everything okay?" Lonny whispers which just makes Andy let out a small sigh.

"Nick is looking okay for the moment, said he feels okay in himself, Delia isn't convinced though; to tell the truth neither am I." Andy admits. "I'm worried what will happen to Delia if all goes badly."

"It won't we just need to keep hopeful." Lonny smiles as he sits on Andy's bunk which was opposite Delia's. "If it does happen, we just need to make sure we're all there for her, like we were with Jake."

"Yeah." Andy sighs again as he looks down at Delia; her head laying on his chest like it so often was when they would share a bed together. Andy was never confess this, but he always slept better with Delia by his side. He was always so scared of losing her, always so scared that she would see the bad he felt deep inside himself and decide he wasn't good enough. He felt like he was always trying his hardest for her, trying to be what she made of him, he didn't want to let her down. Instead, like a court jester, he didn't let his smile fade. 

"Dude, you don't look comfortable like that." Lonny smirks trying to lighten the mood as he watches Andy battle his own head.

"I'm fine." Andy smiles back "If my back aches tomorrow so be it, Delia is worth it." 

"I'm glad you're happy mate, I really am." Lonny grins before standing up and leaving the bunk.

"So?" CC asks as the rest of the group look up from the sofa and table that was crammed into the bus.

"Delia's fallen asleep and Andy is somewhat trapped underneath her, but I think they're okay. We just need to be hopeful that her dad gets better." Lonny explains as he looks between the other members.

"So what do we do with things go bad?" Jinxx asks.

"We just be there for her." Shevy speaks.

First day of tour was over, however, it had felt like it had been a long time already. How could so much happen in just one day? Surely things could not get any worse? If bad things come in three, what was the one bad thing that was left to come, no one wanted to think about that, no one wanted for it to come.

[osamusbigtits]

osamu took a long hit from his quickly dwindling cigarette. he stared at the old contact in his phone, one he hadn't used in months. had it been years at that point? it had to be.

he pressed the call button and pressed his phone to his ear.

another hit as the phone rang. he stubbed out the cigarette right before he got an answer.

"osamu?" suna asked. osamu couldn't believe he answered.

he thought about lighting another cigarette.

"sorry to bother you," osamu said. his heart raced, he couldn't tell if it was the nicotine cravings or the voice on the other end of the phone.

"are you drinking?" his voice turned harsh. osamu didn't blame him.

"no. uh, that's actually why I'm calling you." osamu breathed out. "tsumu's not talking to me and I just... I need someone."

suna's silence made osamu regret calling. made his heart race and his cheeks heat up.

it made him want a drink.

"okay," suna said softly. "so you, uh. you quit drinking?"

osamu breathed out. his hand went to his pack of cigarettes. he decided not to light one. "yeah. uh, probably about 3 months ago." it had been exactly 56 days. each one was more painful than the last. but suna didn't know that. "mama and tsumu sat me down. told me I had a problem." suna hummed to show he was listening. "I thought tsumu would have told you."

"he only talks about your restaurant." suna's voice was still quiet. it made osamu wonder if he was with someone. did osamu interrupt something. "he said that, uh, you would tell me everything else going on one day."

osamu scoffed. "yeah, that sounds like him."

silence. again. osamu nibbled his bottom lip. deciding to quit drinking and smoking at the same time was the worst decision.

"you've been doing good in your games," osamu said. if only to distract himself. he wandered into his kitchen to grab a toothpick to chew on.

"thanks. we're not winning many games, though," suna sighed. "our captain retiring half way through the season because of the knee injury doesn't help."

"there's always next year," osamu said and took a seat at his kitchen table.

suna paused. "I don't think so."

osamu frowned. "why not?"

a deep sigh. "I'm sore. all the time, osamu." osamu shivered at his name. "it takes me longer and longer to recover after games. I'm retiring after this season."

"oh. I'm sorry."

"no, you didn't know. it's fine."

silence again. osamu tapped his finger on the table. "what are you planning to do after?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet. I know I'm gonna take a year off. just to relax and go to a physical therapist. I've already started some sessions." suna sighed. "after that? I have no clue."

"you could always come work at the restaurant," osamu said without thought. and then realization sunk in. "I just- I meant. you were a natural when you helped out when I first opened. and the help would be appreciated. you don't have to. obviously. and it'd be awkward, probably. anyway. sorry, I just, wow-"

"I appreciate the offer, osamu," suna said.

"sorry."

suna hummed. "thank you for calling me."

osamu's heart sped up. "really?"

"yeah. it was nice catching up with you. call me again sometime, yeah? anytime you need a distraction," suna's voice shook. osamu recognized the nerves, like suna thought he must be overstepping.

"yeah. I will. good night, rin."

"good night."

osamu felt lighter as he hung up the phone. the cravings for a drink had subsided. the headache from needing a cigarette had yet to pass.

he felt better, however. he missed suna. he had destroyed their relationship. still, it was nice to know suna had no hard feelings over it.

[twignotstick]

TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 9: Loose Ends 🧵

<- Chapter 8: Spoken Poetry 🗣️

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): threats, violence, body horror, vomit

Words: 3,464

Summary: Old colleagues clash, and the family is reminded that the stakes are high.

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

A wheeze.

“Breathe through it.”

A hacking cough.

“You've got this Scout, I-I'm right here.”

A shaky wretch.

“Big Brother's right here to help you.”

A sob, clutching his aching chest.

“I'm right here.”

The protector had long forgotten the shock of hearing his own voice (The voice he wasn't supposed to have.). He had shaken off the disgusting feeling of throwing up his insides. All of that stopped mattering when he heard the stuttered breathing of his youngest brother.

The scout had been heaving and coughing for what felt like hours. His older brother kneeled over him, hovering finned hands a few inches away. Scout usually loved physical contact, but at times like these it could worsen things by volumes. He didn't want to risk that when his brother couldn't respond with a boundary. Still, not being able to do anything was killing him.

He was never able to do anything.

After an eternity, the turtle's gut was adequately emptied. The last bits of spit dribbled from his beak as he shivered.

“All done. I-It's all better, see? Do you feel better?”

The scout looked up from his shaking curl blearily. The figure of his oldest brother was blurred by the tears still left in his eyes. “...P-Protector?” he rasped.

“Y-yeah, it's me lil man. I'm here for you.”

The scout hesitated before whispering again. “...where's Big Brother?”

The protector would be heartbroken, but this was a heartbreak he had already faced many years ago. When they still spoke like they used to, they would know, when one of them referred to another with something like “Big Brother”, which one they were referring to. The turtle way of communication allowed for that kind of distinction. The human way, however, did not.

The protector knew who the scout was referring to.

When the turtles were young, very young, they had to learn a harsh reality. Their little brother had something terrible in him, and it made him hurt. If he flinched too quickly, he would have tears flooding his eyes until someone assured him it was okay to cry. Then, he would sob himself to sleep.

When they were very young, their father was the only one who could console him. He would rub the young turtle's shell and whisper to him in soft hisses. Hold him closely, but gently.

The scavenger couldn't stand it. Not for lack of trying, of course. There was just something terrible about it. Sometimes, he would say that he hurt too, just watching. He wouldn't dare try to comfort his little brother. He knew he would just cry himself and make the scout more upset.

The protector wanted to help so badly. His very existence was keeping his brothers safe and healthy. Protecting them. So, when he saw his little brother plagued with a pain from within that he couldn't get rid of, he tried to help.

He just couldn't.

The protector didn't know how to be gentle like their father did. He would try to rub his little brother's shell, but that would only lead to hiding and screaming. So, he settled on just being as present as he could. He hated being too intense.

For a short while, they didn't think anyone except their father could help.

One day, their father had been out gathering supplies. The scout, or the one who would become the scout, started having one of his “episodes”. The protector did what he always did; he was present. He tried soothing his brother, but to no avail.

Then the hunter approached.

The hunter who, up to this point, had hardly communicated with anyone but their father.

He took the scout's shaking form into his arms. He rubbed the edge of the younger's carapace, terrifying the protector. He'll just start screaming, and then the scavenger will start crying, and-

He leaned into the comfort, even more deeply than he did with their father. 

The brothers understood the hunter more after that. They recognized that he struggled with communicating how he cared, so he chose to show it through his actions. They understood that he knew how to control his strength, while the protector didn't.

The protector also understood that he couldn't help his youngest brother then, just like now.

He didn't need Big Brother. He needed his Big Brother.

“I don't know where he is, Scout,” the older turtle conceded. “But we're going to find him. I promise.”

“...what's that noise? Noises?” The younger squeaked.

“These are… our voices, I th-think. Scav might know. We have to find him,” the protector said, looking up at the small room they were held in.

A door. A small work desk, with some papers on it, along with a computer. No windows. The two puddles of red bile from just a few minutes ago.

“...wh-why are we talking? I thought we couldn't do- That's a thing the humans do, we can't do that, right?” The scout asked, still keeping his voice soft so as to not irritate his injured throat.

“Y-yeah, I'm trying not to think too much about it before we find Scav.”

“Why aren't they here with us? W… where are we now?”

The protector sighed and hovered his hand next to his brother's. “I don't know. We're going to find them.”

The scout grabbed his brother's hand and held it, trying to comfort his big brother. “I know we will,” he confirmed. 

The protector deliberated for a moment, observing the scout's still shaky form. “Do you… think you can walk?”

The scout tried to brace himself on his hands, only to find a pulsing pain in his wrists. His writhing from before hadn't done him many favors. Deep grooves cuffed his wrists, ankles, and neck. The injury on his neck was obviously the worst.

Seeing a flash of white, the turtle fell back down onto his elbows. His brother squeezed lightly on his hand and guided his breathing again.

“I'll take that as a no, then.”

“Ye- KHH- e-eah…”

The protector weighed his options. He could go out on his own, look for his brothers alone. But if he did that, he'd be leaving his baby brother alone in his time of need.

He could try carrying his brother on his back. But thinking of that, he remembered the various bruises and cuts he had received in the conflict with the robots. There was no way he could get far with a whole body against his broken carapace, even one as small as the scout's.

He was talking, so maybe he could…

“I'm gonna try something.”

The protector sighed and planted one knee on the ground.

“...what are you doing?”

He dragged his other leg to plant his foot, bracing himself on the knee.

“Woah…”

The rest came naturally, and before he knew it, he was standing.

With a shaky grin, the older turtle looked at the younger. He fought to ignore the queasiness threatening to spill his stomach again. “I think I can… carry you?” He whispered carefully. Slowly, he lowered his upper body and lifted the scout in a princess carry, getting a small squeak in response. “Tell me if it hurts too much, but try to stay quiet. I think stealth will be our friend here.” The scout gave an exaggerated nod, shutting his eyes tight. Showing his full faith in his brother's ability.

Expression growing determined, the protector readied himself and rammed his shoulder into the door. He nearly lost his balance and cracked when he heard the whimpering coming from the brother in his arms. Seeing the door not go down, he had to ram it one more time. This time, it crashed to the ground, and he had to quickly regain his balance to not fall with the weight in his arms.

It was strange, because for a moment he could have sworn there was more weight behind the door than there should have been.

Judging by the lopsided way the door was lying on the ground and the armored arm stuck out to the side, he was right.

“Whoops…”

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

April was so unbelievably overwhelmed. Internally, she was screaming at herself. How is any of this even happening? Why did I have to get involved with these crazy mutants? Mutants! How did I even get here?

On the outside, she kept her composure. Her best friend, however, was externally losing it. At some point, April decided that she had to keep it together so there was at least one human who could help with major decision making.

As she watched Splinter, she caught some interesting details. The rat's joints were old, but in combat he moved with unparalleled dexterity. He spoke with a pride in his voice; especially when speaking about his self proclaimed sons. It was somewhat bizarre to think about, but made sense when he clarified that he had found them at their birth. Splinter only explained what he needed to and withheld many details. He claimed it would be a “waste of time” to elaborate.

And despite his mystery, he was kind. He made sure that with every batch of guards they ran into, CJ and April got out of it without taking a single hit. He spoke reverently about his sons’ skills, and admirably at April and CJ when they asked about certain things they had been theorizing before. Like how yes, “Tiny” and himself were the best at understanding human speech, with “Wit” not far behind.

There was still no word from Stockman, but April had largely forgotten about him.

The sound of a struggle ripped April from her thoughts. It appeared to be coming from ahead of their little trio, and Splinter was clearly intrigued. “I believe we are getting close,” he whispered. “We must move s-slowly now.”

Heeding the rat's advice, April followed behind him at an easy pace, with CJ holding up the rear. The sound of fighting started to lessen as people went down. Weapons clattered against the tile and some shouts rang out. “Sedate them already!” “Behind you!” “What is this thing?!”

The shouts died down, and all that was left was one set of heavy breathing and another's hushed voice. Young, squeaky. 

“There's someone else here.”

Splinter's guard dropped completely, and he rounded the corner. 

“FATHER!”

A hulking figure slammed into the rat, wrapping its arms around him. April and CJ lifted their weapons on reflex, then noticed the spiky shell on the figure's back.

When the turtle backed off a bit to take a better look at his father, another figure barreled into Splinter and knocked him onto his rear. CJ's guard immediately went back up, but April held out an arm to keep him back as they watched their old friend.

“Father!” Wit shouted. “You're okay! And you're here! And you- you were standing like we were!” Wit gasped and pulled away from his tight hug on Splinter. “Wait, does that mean you-”

“Yes, my s-sons,” Splinter laughed out. “I-”

“OHMIGOSH!” Wit flapped his hands as he looked up to Spiky. “This is INCREDIBLE, HUNTER!”

Spiky sent a small smirk to the humans watching the scene, then leaned down to help their rat father up. “Yeah, sure, Scav.”

April quickly took stock of the new voices. Wit (or Scav?) sounded younger; like puberty wasn't done with him just yet. He sounded excitable and eager. Comparatively, Spiky (or Hunter) sounded older and more experienced. His voice had a certain gravelly tone, yet still remained light.

With all three mutants standing again, April couldn't help but remember their exceptionally familial bond. Splinter held the faces of his sons and looked them over, fussing when he found new bruises and cuts. Scav kept asking questions and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hunter tried to calm him down and encouraged waiting for answers, but Scav was too eager.

All the while, Hunter kept sending glances to the humans. April waved back reluctantly, knowing that CJ behind her was probably much too stunned to respond. The wave caused a grin to grace Hunter's beaked face, and he tossed his arm around his little brother’s shoulders.

“Hey Scav! Check who else showed up for us,” Hunter said, gesturing to the humans with his free hand.

Scav finally looked up to the others in the hall, and his eyes widened in surprise. Then his face fell into a small scowl as he returned his eyes to Hunter. “Oh, shut it,” he grumbled.

“Shut it?” Hunter asked with mock offense, letting go of the smaller turtle. “Shut what? I didn't say nothin’!”

“You know what you implied.”

“Oh what, implied that I was right? Hm? That you were wrong? That we didn't get sold out by nobody?”

Scav huffed. “First of all, you should say we didn't get sold out by anybody, just like you should say you didn't say anything. Not nobody, not nothing.”

“So you agree?”

“Eh-” Scav paused. “Agree on what?”

“That we didn't get sold out by anybody?”

Scav waved his hands a bit more and sent a few looks to the humans. “Ack- This confirms nothing! I-if anything, the fact that they're wielding weapons implies-”

“Wowowoah.” April stepped a bit closer, causing Scav to jump. “Do you think we sold you out to those sci-fi freaks?” she asked.

Scav said nothing, instead flicking his vision around a bit more. Hunter sighed and said, “This dork was blaming himself for us being in here, even though its obviously not his fault.”

“I-” Scav squeaked, “Couldn't this conversation have waited until, maybe, we were in a private place? Or our brothers weren't missing, and in potential peril?!”

“What do you expect me to do? Let my little bro simmer in his stupid guilt when obviously you were wrong, and I was right?”

“There's a first time for everything,” Scav mumbled.

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!”

“Fine!” Scav swung his arms down and smacked his thighs. “I was wrong, you were right, can we be done with this?!”

Contented, Hunter placed a heavy hand on his fuming brother's shell. “Yes, yes we can.”

“Oookay then,” CJ said, finally stepping out into full view as Splinter snickered at his sons’ behavior, “let's get a couple things straight so we can get you guys outta here. Your names are..?”

“Uh, complicated?” Scav said. “My role is the scavenger, so my brothers call me Scav, but our naming conventions are very different than those of humans, so-”

“So a problem for another time. Got it. I'm CJ, this is April.” CJ clapped his hands together. “More important: where are the rest of you?!”

“We don't know.” Hunter stepped up. “The guard I pinned said they were in the ‘west wing’.”

“Which we are in right now,” Scav explained. “They have to be close. We've been searching every room we can, but we haven't found them yet.”

“With you both here,” Splinter added, “I can probably t-track them more accurately.”

“What are the names you use for them?" April asked. “It'll be easier for us to communicate with them if we know.”

Scav squeaked. “Well, again, our naming conventions differ greatly from your human ones. So, really, it's less names, and more titles or roles.” Seeing his older brother glaring from the side, Scav halted his rambling. “Buuut, our older brother's role is Protector, (which still sounds absolutely bizarre in English,) and our younger brother is-”

A blood curdling scream echoed through the hall. It penetrated everyone's skulls, and the mutants’ eyes all widened in shock, turning sharply to the source.

“SCOUT!”

In a snap, all of them were in motion. The mutants covered the ground at a blinding speed, much faster than before. April was caught completely off guard by the sudden change of pace. Splinter had been moving briskly before, sure, but this was unbelievable.

Maybe they really were built to be super soldiers.

As they came closer to the noise, the yelling only got louder and was joined by a second, deeper voice screaming as well. Soldiers shouted commands and the sounds of electricity ripped through the air.

The red in the halls glinted in their eyes.

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

Baxter cowered behind yet another wall, trying to channel all of his energy into not making a single sound. The office was in sight; still located exactly where it had been the last time he had been here, all those years ago. He couldn't risk anything now.

No guards in the hall. No cameras. Honestly, it was a wonder how poorly guarded the room was.

It couldn't be this easy, could it?

The office door was left unlocked, allowing Baxter to creep inside and approach the desk. Papers were strewn about, where he could read details about the project. “Ooze”. That was always the less professional term they chose to use for the pure mutagen. Baxter came up with it. Barry never bothered to ask him why.

Some of the papers were the old ones, from when the project was first started. Some were new, speaking of alternative methods and starting the whole thing over. But yet, Barry always circled back to the original subjects. He didn't write about Splinter, but he wrote about the turtles.

Sometimes, he even used the names Baxter gave them.

Baxter ignored the papers as best he could, instead sitting himself in front of the large computer monitor on the desk. He remembered every one of Barry's passwords, and it seemed that Barry hadn't changed them. It was easy to get into the computer and find where he was hiding his connection to the mouser system. Then, the steps were elementary. Wipe any and all connections to the mouser system, and destroy any photos from it that Barry had saved.

The loading bar was only about 60% done when he heard footsteps.

Baxter ducked down under the desk, crawling around it to stay out of view. The footsteps came into the room, stopping a few feet away from his hiding place.

The sirens in the hall almost quieted, due to the buzzing in his ears.

“I know you're here, Baxter.”

He didn't dare breathe.

“The monster broke out, but it would never come in here. It would have tried to kill me as soon as it heard my voice, or smelled me in the hall. But you, my friend. You know when to hide.”

Barton Axum moved further into the room, barely by two steps.

“Come out now, Baxter. I don't want you to get hurt. I'm only here to help you.”

He couldn't hold his breath anymore, so Baxter conceded and stood slowly, glaring at his ex-partner. “How kind of you to have any semblance of sympathy, when you are the one who intends to hurt me.”

“I am not. Master Shredder is.”

Baxter felt utterly confused by the strange tone Barton carried. “Who is that?”

For the first time in many years, Baxter saw fear in Barton's eyes. “I am sorry to admit that I lied to you, Baxter. When we first conducted our project, the funding and materials I provided did not come from my family. They came from a very generous benefactor, and a very powerful man, known by the name of Master Shredder. When you stupidly destroyed all of our progress, the Master nearly killed me until I offered to help him with his other work. When you helped me discover our subjects again, I was given permission to pursue them under the condition that you would come to help me finish them.”

“And why should I help you, Barton?”

“Because if you don't, both of us will die.” Barton was beginning to look desperate. “Shredder is a very powerful man, and he has very powerful connections. Even without us, he will find new people to take on the project, capture the subjects again, and make his army.”

“Army?”

Barton nodded solemnly. “Please, Baxter. You're my only friend. I don't want you to die.”

Baxter hesitated. He hadn't seen this amount of vulnerability from Barry in years. “And what of the girl? April?”

“She will work for the Shredder or die.”

Baxter glanced at the red light in the hall, thinking of the girl who had agreed to give him a second chance. And her friend, who was still an unknown accomplice. If this Master Shredder was as powerful as Barry said, his secret would be found out soon enough.

The loading bar finally hit 100%, severing all of Barry's connections to Baxter's technology.

“This is all my fault, and I can't be more sorry,” Barry said softly. “I only wish to keep you safe now.”

Baxter sighed defeatedly. “You're too far gone now, Barry.”

Barry smiled a small, nearly invisible smile. “As are you.”

○●○●○●○

getting really close to the end of the arc :)

Chapter 10: To Be Reborn 🌸 ->

[tmwcs]

HHP Chapter 12 Part 2

Here me out, i know this song was featured in chapter 11...but it played again as i got to this part of the chapter and i dont know why but it matched.

Cracking his neck once more, he closes his eyes as he hums.

“Hmm…I think you and I should take care of some unfinished business, hm? Let go of her.” Ethan calmly states, noting the man just unknowingly made a death wish.

Laughing, after feeling so fed up with the man who didn’t appear right in the head, Scott displays enthusiasm as he nods his head. His crew all watching, entertained by the event, and had even started to record the scene with their video equipment.

“Sure…one sec.” Scott issues. Turning over to you for a moment, his grip somewhat loosened, only to lay a harsh slap on to your face. The same side Samuel had hit you months prior, the familiarity of the sting and pain reminded you of how low it felt to be hit in such a manner.

Gasping in pain, you felt the painful burn of crimson that appeared on your skin.

Already being in an exhausted state, the slap, which was the hardest one yet out of Samuel and Tiff’s similar display of physical assault, nearly knocked you unconscious. Holding onto your cheek, your sobs begin to die down as you felt too tired, you lean your body on the hood of the car, with barley any energy to remain sitting up.

“Alright, I’m ready now.” Scott faces Ethan, with an amused look on his face. Purposely antagonizing Ethan as he found great joy in doing so.

Watching as the wind was nearly knocked out of you, while listening to Jake and Emily call out your name in concern the moment the man’s wide palm made contact to your soft skin, Ethan ditches the grin. He breaks eye contact with Scott and looks at you with an aloof expression on his face. Sucking on his teeth, he switches his gaze down on the ground and shakes his head slowly.

“Why….do you idiots always have to fucking hit her like that? Always on her face…my face. My beautiful face. It’s bad enough that you hit her to begin with but…to bruise the only thing that is worth looking at every single day…..”  growling, he pauses before he continues. “it’s enough to make me gnaw on your bones for dinner.”

Raising his sights back up, Ethan’s eyes, wider than before, looked as if they were about to pop out their sockets.

“Well let’s go man!” Scott antagonizes. Closing the distance, he swings.

Ducking, with heightened reflexes, Ethan maneuvers around and forming a fist, and cracking his knuckles, he shifts to a paralleled stance to Scott, facing the opposite direction. Flashing a quick and snappy blow to the man’s lower back with his knuckles, that had hardened and bulged from the cracking, Scott took a bend at the knees in slight pain as the sharp sensation migrated throughout his body, beginning at the tailbone where Ethan struck.

Knowing all the pressure points, the sensitive and softened tissue muscles of the body from his experience with rigorous dancing, sports, and Tae Kwon Do, Ethan had plenty of knowledge on sports medicine, and using speed, agility, and skill to apply pain and detain offenders, even ones that were as big as Scott.

“Ah! Fuck!” Scott managed to steady himself.

With a pivot of the feet, swooping into a half circle around the other side of Scott, Ethan, looking as if he was performing an elaborate choreography dance movement, reaches around to the front of Scott, once more, with the bulging of his knuckles, he swings up words and snaps a blow under Scott’s chin.

Lowering the extension of his arm, Ethan squeezes his grip to pop his knuckles once more, a loud crack shatters Scotts painful groans, ‘crack!’

The moment the cracking of his knuckles pierced through the air, Ethan brings his hand inward, and with the same effect to that of a slingshot, he uses the moment of his swing from the core of his chest to snap a knuckling blow to the side of Scott’s head, right on the temple. Gripping his fist following the impact, he cracks his knuckles once more with the squeeze of his palm ‘Crack! Pop!’

Grabbing onto his head where the blow was issued, bone on bone, Scott falls to his knees as a flashing sense of pain traveled throughout his head, temporarily inhibiting his vision and other senses.

Issuing a kick to a soft spot on his groin, Ethan’s tempo and force nearly flips the bigger man into a complete circle.

Laying on his back, widening and blinking his eyes to gain his vision back, Scott felt as if he was about to fade out of consciousness as Ethan slams his kneecap right on the center of his throat, rendering him immobile.

Slightly choking with his airway greatly restricted, Scott measly grabs on to Ethan’s leg, trying to pry him off. Glaring down at the man, with his shaggy hair grazing past the helix of his ears, his cap shadowing his eyes, Ethan, with heavy eyelids, glared down at the man below him with narrowed and sharpened eyes.

“Tsk tsk…too slow…and sloppy.’ Ethan remarks, grabbing on to one of Scotts hands, he holds it in place with his thumb stabbing into the palm, his fingers wrapped around the backside. Maintaining strict eye contact with Scott, he grabs on to one of his fingers, to which Scott expresses a look of worry as he tries to shake his head.

“One…” Ethan calmly remarks as he glares at the man struggling under him.

‘Crrrrrrraaaaack!’

Breaking the man’s index finger, leaving it to display a crooked posture as it leans far back passed the farthest knuckle and towards the wrist, Ethan takes the second finger. “Two…”

‘Crrrrrrrraaaaack!’

Hearing the man scream in agonizing pain as Ethan slowly broke each finger, his friends all panic and start shouting at the Mr. Hyde persona that sat atop Scott.

Grabbing onto tripods and bipods alike, the handful of Scott’s crew screamed out threats as they prepared to merge over, appearing to attack Ethan to get Scott out of the trouble he was in.

‘SNAP!’

‘TAT!’

‘PAP!’

Gliding in circles, bending, and ducking effortlessly as he evades strikes and blows, Jake, with his own set of impressive skills from years of soccer, while also studying rigorous dance routines, and marital arts with Heeseung under the same mentor, maneuvers around and takes on the less than impressive statured males that attempted to swing the heavy video equipment around. Yet it did them no favors as Jake’s speed and agility allowed him to puncture and whip blows towards noses, eye gouges, and throat chops. Rendering the lot to refrain from interfering with the fight, which he deemed was more than fair at this point after witnessing what had happened thus far.

Emily watched, admiring, and observing a side of Jake, whom was normally all bubbly and friendly with his demeanor, yet maintained a stern and calm face as he pivoted and glided around five to six men, using only one hand to apply the hits, causing nose bleeds and agony for the other men as they lay on the ground moaning in pain. The movements were very similar to Ethan’s. She wondered where exactly they studied and learn these movements from, they were like hummingbirds in midair, swaying left, right, backwards, and forward with such grace and agility that it was a shame it took so long for her to witness it. The two men were so graceful and elegant as they moved, yet deadly when applying their strikes, and untouchable.

“You all have no part in this.” Jake merely responds in a low tone, lower than usual. It vibrated a sense of stone-cold bravado that no one, aside from Heeseung, has ever heard. Just like Ethan’s, it was a dangerous tone, as his iris’s sharpened into near slits.

‘Beware of the dog and his bite.’

Shaking a chilling and yet intriguing jolt through Emily’s spine, Jake’s face was stern and emotionless as he looked down at the men that he had just rendered immobile with extreme ease, and without so much as a single bead of sweat dropping from his brow.

“J-…Jake….h-how?” Emily stuttered and she smiles softly, thoroughly impressed.

With a slight smirk back at her, he stands gazing from his side. “Everyone’s got a reason to live…” issuing a slight nod towards Ethan, he continues, “he deserves this moment.”

Cracking the fingers out of place, one hand rendered useless for the remainder of the fight as Ethan raises up, stepping back and standing with his arms crossed. Waiting for Scott to collect himself so that he could continue shaming the man as he stands, breaking him down piece by piece before moving on to his next method of torture.

Suddenly, from behind, Tiff swings a bipod onto Ethan’s backside, causing him to slightly wince as he bends forward.

Moaning out long and exaggerated pronunciation of her words, as her jaw was dislocated and her facial muscles severely damaged from Ethan’s grasp earlier, an enraged and permanently damaged Tiff screams out as drool merges out of her mouth uncontrollably. Unable to form complete and coherent words or sentences, she rages in harrowing screams and moans, as if she sounded like a raging lunatic. The lack of nerve structure, since they were all damaged and barely functioning, caused her face to appear elongated and droopy as the stretching of the skin slowly formed harsh stretch marks that decorated the sides of her cheeks and around her mouth.

Scott, taking advantage of Ethan’s loss of composure, yet with only one working hand, swings a punch onto Ethan’s face. A glob of bloodied spit flies out as Ethan remains standing with his face peeled off to the side from the impact.

Taking him by a handful of his casual shirt under his chin, Scott pushes Heeseung up against the van, eyes watery from the agonizing pain that the tall and lean man had bestowed upon him in front of his crew.

“You know what man…I’m glad you came after all. Because I’m going to make you watch as I fuck the shit out of that pretty girl of yours. I’ll fuck her harder than she’s ever been…. just ask Tiff.” Scott pierces a glance to Tiff, who looked horribly disfigured as her mouth drooped open, the skin under her eyes sinking down.

Chuckling, Ethan softly shakes his head.

“Man…you couldn’t fuck Tiff to make it memorable for her, what makes you think it’s going to be different with anyone else?” Ethan grins with a blood staining his teeth once more.

“The fuck you talking about?” Scott ushers offensively.

“I’m saying…you couldn’t fuck crabs into a ten-cent hooker. You just don’t know how to use it.” Ethan antagonizes, recalling the moments where all the girls he’s had before you, to include Tiff, would often beg him for just a sliver of his attention as he was the only one to give them, not just an orgasm, but the best pleasure they’ve ever had in their life.

Turning his gaze at Tiff, Ethan slightly nods his grin towards her.

“I bet you never told him how much you missed me while he fucked you, huh?” Ethan issues towards her.

With her eyes watered and her skin turning a flash of red from rage as the man spoke the truth, but was so cocky about it, and the fact that he took the one thing she had going for her to swipe up a man that would endow her future, she wanted nothing more than see Ethan in immense pain, and she knew how that was going to happen.

Through her moans, she encouraged Scott to go carry out his assault on you. To which he partially understood.

“I bet you think you’re hot shit, huh?” Scott questions Ethan.

“Hmph…yeeeeah.” Displaying another bloodied grin.

“Well we’ll see. Because that pretty girl of yours looks to be a bit out of it, maybe I’ll just go ahead and take care of her now and have my guys hold you close for a nice view.”

“Oh? You think you can?” Ethan smirks.

Jake and Emily stand nearby. Tempted to interfere, Emily looks over to Jake, who stood amidst the slowly recovering group he swapped out one by one. Waving a hand motioning her to stay back, he tilts his chin down. The eye contact he made with Ethan, as they communicated through the motioning and flickering of their eyes as they widened, glared, and narrowed. Making it very clear to stand by to his friend, Jake takes the hint from Heeseung and stands firm, ensuring that Scott’s friend remained and played ‘fair’ instead.

“You don’t think I fucking can?” Scott ushers in response to Ethan’s statement.

“Ah….” Here merely sighs as he chuckles, a gush of wind blows through. “Yeah, we’ll see.” Ethan sighs once more.

Confused at his calm and rather different approach than the one he had initially as he displayed a fervor level of protection against you, he raises his hand and grabs on to Scott’s wrist. The crew, Tiff, Scott, Jake, and Emily all look at Ethan, raising eyebrows as they wait to see what he was about to do as he grabbed on to Scott, still grinning.

Sighing he looks down on the ground…

‘Tip tap’

‘Tip tap tip’

‘Tip…..tap…tip tap tip tap.’

The echoes of fingers tapping could be heard piercing through the still air. Ethan growls with a wide grin and releases a small chuckle….

"....................................'

"Eden..."

"...................................'

“Eden, come to me baby. Come to me baby girl.” He speaks in a low tone.

Everyone looked at him with perturbed looks. “Eden?...Who the fuck is Eden?”

Hearing his bidding, you feel her pulsate within you.

‘Darling….relax….I’ve got this. You’ve been through enough, it’s my turn. He’s calling for me…’

Your back flat against the hood as your arms lay spread out to your sides, your chest rises with your head leaned far back, your chin facing the night sky. Your fingers tap on the hood of the car. Looking as if you were reviving back to life, your chest peels your frame from the hood as you wave into a seated position.

“That's it….my Eden. Come to me baby.”

With a high pitch tone, everyone’s breath hitched as they watched you look up with an equally sinister glare. Closing her eyes, she stretches her neck.

From left.

‘Crack!’

To right.

‘Crack!’

Back to center.

‘Crack!’

With a high-pitched voice that is not your own, Eden smirks as she glares into every single pair of eyes that looked her way, mouths gawking open at a subtle yet noticeable transformation. A dark and violent one…

Grinning with the same sinister nature as her Ethan, a sudden jolt of fear hit Tiff, Scott, his crew, and even Emily as they all took turns gulping from the immense level of chaos they sensed as they looked at the harsh hell that reflected from Eden’s eyes….’your’ eyes.

“I’m here….daddy…”

Chapter 13

AUTHORS NOTES:

Surprise! Jake is a hidden gangsta! And he will have a series featuring him and his story in this series/same universe, only it's going to be all about him and his own y/n.

And again, i fucking love Eden.

[leviathxn]

“Cut Him Some Slack”

Okay so I used to write a bunch and I did a lot of requests for people and I can admit that my qqwriting improved 1000x over so I’m finally able to pick up my writing (I’m so sorry to all my Wattpad people that I just never finish the requests or stories for 😭). But I’m trying to format this and add things that usually are put here so let’s goooo

Miguel O’ Hara x fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst (ATSV Spoilers!!), blood and fighting (physical and verbal), sweet Miguel 🥹

Summary : You and Miguel are already in a (private and hidden) relationship and you didn’t have any issues with the things he had to do… until Miles came into the picture

Before we start, I took Spanish for 6 years and I want to say I understand it but I do not trust myself enough to use it fully so I’m really only gonna use small words or phrases (if I even use them at all) so I’m so sorry for the Spanish speakers if I manages to mess that up, and for the non Spanish speakers I’m gonna add translations next to the words

Everything had happened too fast. At first Miguel attempted to explain it to Miles and it seemed he understood at first, but, naturally no one would want to stand idly by as their father was knowingly going to die. I understood every bit of confusion and pain that Miles felt and I desperately wanted to reach out and comfort him. However I know what would happen to me if I were to step out of line and help somebody who had the fate of the multiverse in their hand.

Miguel was cold, calculated and heartless… when it came to these types of things of course. But it’s when he got like this that I knew I had to be the one to step in. I was the only person that could stand in Miguel’s way that wouldn’t be immediately killed (I say immediately, because I’ve never tested it out and maybe he would snap my neck a little slower than the next guy).

We went from in HQ, to the train, then back to HQ. The whole time my head shook. How was this all happening, I asked myself over and over again as I ran to the “go home machine”. I reached it before Miguel, seeing Miles in the process of going home. I looked him in the eyes… well tried to since he was still invisible and nodded. I turned around and positioned myself, ready for Miguel. He bursted in, ready to pounce and get him out of there until he made eye contact with me.

“(Y/N) move now!”. He shouted and panted and I stood my ground. Miles was almost done being sent home and Miguel jumped to reach the platform. I had quickly webbed his foot, messing up his jump. I grabbed his arm and hoisted him back to the other side. He screamed in fury as Miles was finally gone. He laid on the ground for a moment, it was quiet all around us. He let out a scream of rage again and slammed the ground, causes multiple cracks. “Everybody out!”. I stood my ground and clenched my fists, I had never seen him so angry.

He slowly got up, before turning my around and grabbed my arm. I flinched at his harsh grip, everything telling me to run before I get hurt.

“Do you have ANY idea of what you just helped?” I didn’t like his use of the word ‘what’ to refer to Miles. He was a kid who wanted nothing more than to protect the ones he loved.

“A kid who wanted to save his dad?” His grip tightened and his fangs flared at him. I felt the fear creep into my body at every motion he did.

“You just helped an anomaly who could destroy the multiverse! ¡Eres Estúpida!”. My body began to shake as I tried to look Miguel in the eyes again. When I did all I saw was red. I shut my eyes again and took a breath.

“That wasn’t his choice and you know that. And oh it just be nice to stand by and yell at somebody for wanting to be selfish but you were in the same situation. You destroyed a whole world because you were selfish! Let the kid at least try!” A slap echoed throughout the room. My face stung and tears welled up in my eyes. He actually just hit me. I looked up to Miguel to see shock on his face.

“Querida-“ I shoved out of his grip

“Don’t call me that!” I back away from him and went towards the door. He turned and followed me fumbling over his steps

“(Y/N) please just let me talk, I didn’t mean to”

“I did just let you talk, and you slapped me!” I shouted turning around and punched his chest. It had done nothing to him. He was ready for it. I kept punching him over and over again, disgusted by what he just did. So why did I still care? Why did I still want to be with him? Why did I still want to try? I really am stupid.

He let me continue hitting him as I let the tears pour out. I shouted at him over and over again.

“You were crazy while chasing him! I’ve never seen you so animalistic! punch You thought he was dumb for not listening but what did you expect? punch You told the kid his dad was gonna die and we weren’t gonna let him do a single thing?? punch If he was an anomaly he would’ve been kicked out of his own world forever ago, punch the multiverse would’ve collapsed, punch world 42 would’ve collapsed!” I gave out a final punch, one that actually made Miguel take a step back. He coughed and stretched himself out. You were hitting hard. If he wasn’t ready for it, he would’ve been dead. He saw your shoulders slump as you looked down

“Mi Amor… listen I-I’m sorry. I know what I did to him was wrong.. I know what I did to you was wrong” he cussed my cheek and slid a finger under my eyes to wipe the tears. “But please you have to understand-“. I sniffled and smacked his hands away.

“We can’t disrupt our own canon events Miguel. We should’ve let him go back and let everything play out. If it was supposed to happen then it would. But if he’s supposed to save his dad, wether it was with or without the knowledge before hand, we have to let it happen. I don’t care if he wasn’t supposed to be Spider-Man…. The fact that he even got a canon event means the world recognizes him as one”. I sighed. Miguel still didn’t understand, he didn’t want to.

It was quiet, Miguel stared at me thinking. He reached up again and I flinched. I didn’t trust him not to kill me right now for disagreeing. He knows he was harsh, he shouldn’t have said all those things to Miles and he knows it.

“He’s a kid Miguel…. If you can’t even handle him how am I gonna want a family with you”. Miguel froze at that. 1. Because you wanted a family and 2. Because you were thinking that far ahead.

“Querida I’m sorry I just- I got so stressed and nervous and- this is my living (Y/N). I have been doing things this way for so long. I’m the villain to them but if they just understood-“

“They do understand… but you’re not understanding them. Yes you had your own experience but you’re not trying to relate to them and putting it down nicely. You slammed the kid into a fucking train”. He stood silent again. He was actually processing what you were saying. Miguel and I usually agreed on things. I trusted him with every fiber of my body until now. He knew that if I said something to him, then it was worth noting.

Then I finally saw it. I saw the pain and suffering in his eyes, the genuine guilt. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into me. He put hu hands on my waist and pressed his face into the crook of my neck.

“Lo siento… Im sorry for hitting you I’m sorry for not understanding him. I should’ve done it differently”. He melted into my arms. He kept muttering apologies in Spanish, desperate for my acceptance and forgiveness

“Miguel I forgive you so please… head up we need you. I’ll talk to Miles. We’ll fix this. But ever touch me again like that and I’ll have your head”. He chuckled and pulled me in closer for one last big hug

Although I didn’t know how we were gonna solve this, at least I got Mr. Grumpy pants to understand.

Again super short, just kind of got it over with. I’m more willing to write more but I wanted feed back from people then I would keep writing and I’ll gladly take requests, especially smut requests 🤭

[uh-niran-really]

SymWeaver Fluff

Best Friends reconnecting again after so long.

Phone Call: Did you get home alright?

It had been a few hours since Niran had heard from his dearest friend. It was great to catch up with her about the last eleven years of their lives. He had confessed that he thought about her a lot and she had confessed the same. Maybe the two of them could finally heal after so much time apart. Physically she looked great, as beautiful as he remembered, but now she was older, wiser, but still his Satya. She hadn’t grown much the time they last saw each other, perhaps a few inches, though he didn’t mind. She was always his little shadow, following him around wherever he went.

He thought back to the day he left, a fresh 20 year old and a 19 year old girl saying their goodbyes. A lot of emotion, anger, sadness and pain. He was thankful she didn’t hold much of a grudge, he was just happy to see her again, just as he remembered her. He pulled out his phone and stared at the lock screen. It was the same photo he used since the academy. A selfie he forced her to take with him. She didn’t look very happy compared to him but Niran loved the way she couldn’t stop the smallest smile forming on her lips. He unlocked his phone and flicked through the apps to find his photos and the sort out one that they had taken today. This time she was smiling. She looked genuinely happy. Niran had forced her to make a heart with their hands as he took the photo. She rolled her eyes but indulged him. He loved that about her. Soon he was replacing his old lock screen for the new picture, loving that he had a new memory with the one he loved most in this world.

He missed her already. Seeing her again only for her to leave so soon was torture. He forgot how painful it was the first time. He wondered if she was home and safe, debating if he should text or maybe call her. His fingers found her newly added contact and dialled her number, hoping she would pick up. He couldn’t wait to talk to her again.

“Hello?”

“Satya! Hi!” Niran beamed, excited to hear her voice again.

“What do you want Niran?” She yawned, sounding extremely tired.

“I just wanted to check you got home safely. I miss you.”

“It’s been 4 hours Niran. Yes I’m home. About to go to bed actually, like you should be.”

“Ahh you know me Satya, I shan’t be in bed for at least another 3 hours.” This was true. He always hated early mornings but revelled in the night, working through ideas and creations.

“How typical of you.” She laughed, the sound warming his heart. “It was nice seeing you again after so long.”

“I feel the same. It’s been difficult without you. I’m glad we’re still friends, Satya.”

“Friends might be cutting it. I still haven’t entirely forgiven you for leaving, but all in due time. For the most part, I have. I’m glad to see you thriving, finally.”

“I know, and I will work hard to prove to you it was all worth it.” He still hated himself for leaving her, despite how important it was that he did leave. He was glad she was receptive to the idea of them being friends again.

“I look forward to seeing that. Perhaps over some tea.”

“Perhaps some Cha Khao Hom. Or maybe a Camomile blend.” They both loved to share a pot of tea from time to time, resting from the long academy days.

“I’m tired Niran. Can we say goodnight and be done now?” Although to some she could sound harsh, Niran loved how she got straight to the point, clearly articulating what she wanted.

“Of course, I won’t keep you a moment longer. Goodnight Satya. I’m honoured I got to see you again, my dearest friend.”

“Goodnight Niran. I’ll call you again soon. Thank you for checking up on me, reminds me that things between us aren’t so bad.”

With that the phone clicked. Niran sighed a long beautiful sigh thinking of her. He missed the days he would kiss her forehead goodnight after she lectured him about sleep. He missed her fuzzy Pyjama pants and how tempted he was to steal them for himself. Most of all he missed tucking her back into bed when she stirred awake from a nightmare, promising her it would be ok. He wondered how many nightmares he missed in the eleven years apart. He was happy for her though, she too was thriving at Vishkar, though it pained him in many ways. Niran hoped setting her on the path of knowledge about Vishkar would break her free from their grasp. Until then he’d be her support again, just like he always was.