#they do not deserve to sleep any better. they are no less murderous. they are no less guilty.

[butchscientist]

I do not think violence being "less personal" makes it any less depraved or evil. I refuse to concede to the idea that killing someone by bombing them is any less murderous than shooting them point blank. The idea of bombing someone to death should produce just as visceral reaction as slitting their throat does.

We should view killing someone from a distance, from relative safety, as just as depraved, visceral, shocking and violent as killing someone from close proximity. This idea that it is somehow less violent to bomb someone than it is to stab them only serves to justify and excuse massacres, and we need to be willing to challenge it. It is a way to paint the violence of the powerful as less severe than the violence of the powerless - even when the body counts are much higher.

Bombings are not sterile or impersonal, they are violent, they are gruesome, they are horrific. Casualties are not "collateral damage", they are inescapable and intended consequences. Being able to distance yourself from the violence you commit does not make you a better person.

[tokkiwrites]

FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.

dark!joel miller x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | more coming soon.

summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.

tags: murder, stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰

【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.

「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」

he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.

so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.

she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.

that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.

「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」

late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.

she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.

but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.

"Y-yesㅡ"

"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"

"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."

"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."

"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.

"My sweet fawn."

「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」

"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."

"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.

he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too much. He doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.

" Mr.Millerㅡ"

"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself, 'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"

"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.

He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.

"Let go of her, boy."

"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."

"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.

"Adam, let's just -"

"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"

"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.

"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.

with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.

"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.

everything is silent for a moment.

So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.

"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."

[alittlebitofloveliness]

The last time Dally was having a week this bad he was eleven years old and fresh out of juvie, running from New York with nothing but the clothes on his back and three dollars his sister gave him instead of any sort of proper goodbye.

Shoot, but he’d thought he left that all behind, coming to rodeo country from brooklyn had felt like a retirement of sorts, and he’d gotten half used to the quiet, even if the itch under his skin sometimes still had him wishing there was blogger trouble to get into than tussling with Shepard or baiting some soc into a fight.

Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to end up in another murder wrap. Then again, he probably could have dealt with it a whole lot better if it had been anyone else who’d done it. If Tim had shown up at his place, cool but just a little less collected than usual, Dally would have grabbed a bag of salt and a shovel and driven with him into the backwoods to dump the body without having to think twice. If Darry or Two, or hell even Sodapop had showed up at his door he could have given them a lot better advice than to run a few towns over and hide out in a busted out church. 

But it wasn’t anyone else. It was the kids. Of course it was. 

He knows he’ll never forget it, the way Johnny had looked holding that knife, dried blood like scales on the back of his hand and soaked into the cuff of the jacket Dally had given him a year ago, a look in his eyes Dally had only ever seen once before, years ago, in a different face in a different life. It wasn’t fear, wasn’t anger, wasn’t even really panic- it was exhaustion, plain and simple. The type of bone deep resignation that came with being so beaten down and broken that when someone finally snapped they couldn’t even find themselves to be surprised by it. That look in Johnny’s eyes- just a year younger than him, but somehow so much older and younger at the same time- had haunted Dallas ever night for the past week, stealing the scant minutes he’d managed to set aside to sleep, as those soulful, empty eyes rose in his subconsciousness, staring at him for hours in the darkness.

Then there was Ponyboy, small for fourteen and even smaller shivering in the darkness, eyes wide in his peaked pale face, terrified and naive and stupid. 

What was Dally supposed to do? The kid had been so pissed he wouldn’t have gone home to Darry even if he’d begged on bended knee, especially if he’d suggested hiding Johnny anyway. The whole gang knew Pony worshiped the ground Johnny walked on and hardly seemed to realize it. 

So he’d sent them, the broken one and the baby, a few towns over with 50 bucks and bullshit he could pass off as advice instead of half crocked wishful thinking, and had paid the price for such an idiotic rash decision ten times over. He’d deserved the cracked rib Darry had given him when he found out about the whole thing, especially since he still hadn’t let slip where the kids are. He hadn’t deserved Steve’s icy silence, but he’d taken it with as much grace as he could muster anyway. Steve had already lost a lot in his life, and it was no secret Pony was a favourite of his even though he worked too hard to hide it. Dally could take a little bit of heat if that’s what it took to stop Steve from following Soda into full raving lunacy.

At least the benefit of his shitty advice is this: the kids are still close enough to reach, close enough for him or any of the rest of the gang to get to if they need to, at least for the moment. Not for long though- his selfish desire to keep them close can’t last much longer, he knows. He’s been planning, fund them a half safe route across the border that’ll keep them out of trouble until the whole thing dies down. 

For now though, he parks Buck’s shitty car down a dirt road thats barely more than tire tracks in worn down earth, and starts walking, the church on Jay mountain looking a bit more decrepit than it had the summer he spent out here a few years back working as a ranch hand. 

As he draws closer he notes the broken windows and missing boards and soft part of him, the part that knows he loves these fucking dumbass kids as much as he wishes he didn’t, hopes they weren’t too cold these past few nights.

He banishes the thought from his mind, instead letting out a long low whistle followed by a sharper, higher note, the one Tim’s gang uses to communicate with each other, but that Johnny knows because he spends enough time around Shepard territory to be half decent buddies with some of the younger guys in that gang.

Sure enough, as he rounds the hill a familiar head of jet black hair peers around the side of the church, breaking into a grin at the sight of him, and Dally’s traitorous heart leaps, relief a better upper than Tim’s good coke.

“Hey Dal!”

“Heya Johnnykid,” he can’t help the urge to reach out and ruffle the guy’s hair, especially since it been hacked off in a poor approximation of any sort of haircut, “geez, what’d you do to your hair, huh? Let Pony attack you with scissors, in the dark, blindfolded?”

“Shut up,” Johnny shoves at him halfheartedly, “I thought it’d be a good way to disguise ourselves.”

“Well it's true no one’ll mistake you for a murderer but they’ll take one look and think you escaped the looney bin.”

The kid winces a bit at the word murderer and he immediately feels bad, even though there isn’t much he can do to take it back now, is there?

“Where’s the kid?” He changes the subject, “I figured he’d be tearing down the hill the second he heard me whistle?”

“Inside,” Johnny jerks his head towards the church, leading Dally through the half rotted doorway.

Inside is as dingy and gross as Dally remembers from the one time he came to scope the place out before. The pews are rotted to the point it looks like if anyone older than three tried to sit on them they’d fall right through, and the concrete floor is so covered in dirt it's nearly black.

All of this ceases to matter of course, when Dally spots Ponyboy’s thin frame curled up in the corner, eyes closed, face white as a sheet. If he weren’t trembling ever so slightly, Dally would swear he was dead.

“Jesus,” he hisses, and Johnny nearly flinches, “what the fuck is wrong with him?”

“Nic sick,” Johnny sighs, shaking his head, and for a second he looks so much like Darry Curtis its comical, “I told him to cool it with the cigarettes but he didn’t listen.”

Dally sighs. No wonder he couldn’t bring himself to give them a proper escape plan a week ago. Six days in and Ponyboy’s smoked himself into a stupor, meanwhile Johnny’s lost about three pounds and whatever remained of his innocence.

Whatever. He’s here now. That’s what matters.

“Glory,” he says to Johnny, nudging the tip of his boot into Pony’s side, “he looks different with his hair like that.”

Ponyboy’s green eyes snap open.

The story continues.

[notmorbid]

yellowjackets, season 1 [pt. 2].

dialogue prompts from the first season of showtime's yellowjackets.

we're going through one of our little divorces right now.

you know i don't like when you yell at me.

scared of what other people think?

they are gonna find out eventually. you know that, right?

i never should have told you about that.

promise me you won't do anything stupid.

it's not a real birthday without presents.

i just got so caught up in making everything perfect.

i don't want to go back yet. do you?

how could you do that without telling me?

i don't even know who the hell you are right now.

we were kids. and it was awful.

you left me all alone.

are you a genius? did you ever take one of those tests?

i don't wish things were different.

i have no regrets. i want you to know that.

we're still together. that's got to count for something.

it means something to me. especially with you.

what if you're wrong? what if it's just nothing?

i know i don't have to. i need to.

i don't want you to go, okay?

what part of 'hurry up' did you not understand?

you're obviously hiding something from me, and it's making me feel crazy.

what did i do? when did you stop wanting me to be your best friend?

don't worry. we're gonna get through this together.

i have a life outside of you, you know?

you seem surprisingly calm, by the way.

it's not the first time i've been held hostage.

you're not supposed to go through people's private stuff, you know.

you're just as fucked up as i am. you're just better at lying to yourself.

you're living on the brink, just like me.

what happened to 'go with the flow'? 'see where life takes me'?

you're not in control, and you're not used to it.

every single cell in your body wants to blow things up and see what happens. that's who you are.

i promise this will all be over soon.

i've never been in a french farce before.

i'm not sure i believe you. i'm not sure it even matters.

let's not act like [name] is an innocent victim.

i've seen the way [name] looks at you.

you just wasted $300 worth of blow.

were you spying on me, you little pervert?

i'm pretty much the best friend you have right now.

i'm afraid to go to sleep.

i'll stay with you.

do you ever think about what our lives would've been like, if it didn't happen?

i must have been sleepwalking or something.

i don't know what's happening to me.

i realized i don't know anything about you.

what are you gonna do to stop me?

it's not really the time to be keeping secrets.

i'm afraid i'm going to hurt you.

you have two seconds to tell me the truth.

i can't believe that i fell for it. that i fell for you.

we can still fix this.

what do you mean, you killed someone? like, you murdered someone?

you deserve to be with somebody who really wants to be with you.

when did we become these people?

you don't know anything about me.

do you ever feel like your humility holds you back?

you could have talked to me, you know.

all this time, you knew everything?

it doesn't matter. we're just shells with nothing inside.

where are we? am i even here?

you took something that doesn't belong to you.

don't you understand? you don't matter anymore.

please. i need to see you.

can you try to be a little less judgmental?

you were just trying to survive.

you never say you're sorry.

i just need to know that you're okay.

i said i was fine, didn't i?

do you want any help?

it's just like riding a really gross, fucked up bike.

sometimes i look at the world around me, and it's like all the light has just gone out of it.

maybe you need to start trying to forgive ____.

let's get a picture.

i wish i could say i remember [name] better.

i hope you find whatever it is you really need.

you were my best friend.

you just assumed i'd go wherever you wanted.

i'm not jealous of you. i feel sorry for you.

i don't even know who you are anymore.

you want to make a break for it?

the less you know about it, the better.

i think we're gonna be alright.

i didn't know commercials still existed.

it's not as bad as you thought, is it?

[wickjump]

This isn't whump but I had a thought on the way to work about mtt poly + crepic, what if they were all competing for Cross's affection but it's not in a "I'm better you should love me instead of him" way, it's all a big excuse to spoil and fluster Cross as much as they can and they're all in on it

OH MY GOD YES. after being deprived of affection his whole life cross now has 4 boyfriends who love him very much and that’s perfect for him. he deserves it..!!!!!!

cross absolutely freaked out when it first started and he has not gotten any less flustered over the months. because he’s been wrapped up in self loathing for AGES and now all of a sudden there’s four different people flirting with him? his face is like a goddamn grape half the time because of them. they gift give cross a lot,, he deserves to be spoiled by them i think bc we all know his dad never did. he deserves lots of physical touch and quality time too methinks…..

i like them a lot sighs,, i think epic and the mtt have way too much chemistry too which is what spurred this ship on in my mind (and im a fan of mtt poly too,,) I think they should all date and be happy and get to comfort each other through tough times idk

bonus though if there’s some actual rivalry at first even if only for a little. either between all of them or the mtt and epic because they don’t know each other well. epic could think they have bad intentions and doesn’t trust them bc they’re literal murderers and the mtt isn’t fond of an ‘outsider’ being so involved in cross’ life when he’s very able to tattle on them because he lives in the OT.

and then they go “wait. okay you’re lowk kinda hot. what about this. you know what would be infinitely funnier? let’s tag team him” and now cross is their no.1 victim. he’s obliterated any time he enters a room.

i like to think they’d take him on dates he doesn’t realize are dates. but they think he knows it’s a date (i mean, who takes their coworker/best buddy to a nice dinner, drive in movie theatre, and end the day with a bouquet of flowers platonically??). or rather he thinks he’s overthinking everything and taking things the wrong way because his skull is thick as shit.

meanwhile nightmare is aroace and wondering why the fuck everyone is so happy and distracted as of late. please get back to work im begigng you. WHY do i find you all sleeping in the same bed?? .WHY IS EPIC IN THAT BED??? HE DOESNT EVEN LIVE HERE???????? (he’s just subtly moving in at this point)

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Freminet with a darling who left him for Lynette. He can't seem to figure out where he went wrong, and why you no longer love him like he loves you.

★🐈‍⬛🩷

haha surpriiiise y'all, I'm back, kinda sorta ;v; it's gonna be even slower updates than what it was previously but after a few months away and a lot of ups and downs, I've gotten back into the swing of things haha ;v; i really and sorry for being gone so long

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, watching darling sleep, mentions of murder, kidnapping implications, and other potential topics/content. Please read at your own risk!

It wasn’t supposed to go this way, no part of his plan was intended to steer things this direction at all. Freminet felt at a loss, watching as you happily snuggled up beside his older sister, smiling at her and showering her in the love that he deserved. He was the one responsible for making you the way you are, for breaking down your walls and showing you what it means to be loved and yet no matter what he said or did, you always just ran off to his sister.

You were supposed to be his, he- he killed for you, you can’t just leave him like this. He’s worked too hard…

What did he do wrong? Did he not love you enough or perhaps too much? Was it something he said? You have to tell him, he can’t stand this. The shelves have been ripped off the walls in his room, his desk flipped over, everything torn out of his closet as he searches for answers, for clues as to what he did. Freminet just can’t seem to comprehend that he was the problem. The Lynette was simply in the right place at the right time, offering you comfort for the woes that Freminet had caused. 

Love makes people do crazy things, but that’s what makes it so worthwhile. It’s why Freminet didn’t bat an eye at your resistance, the way you fought him every step of the way after he brought you home. It was ok, you were just adjusting to the love he provided, the love you needed. But no, you just had to run off to someone else, to leave him shaking in anger as he stared you down, watching you hide behind his sister who defended you. She didn’t even love you back, she couldn’t love you like he loved you. Lynette didn’t care for you like Freminet did, you were better off with him.

“Just forget about her, she doesn’t love you. Nobody but me could love a mess like you, have you seen yourself recently? You should be grateful I love you, should feel honored I put in so much work for you, all because I love you.” Freminet is unrelenting in his mission to get you back, whispering hurtful words in your ear while you sleep, hoping to influence your dreams. It’s the only time he can get close to you, when you’re fast asleep and Lynette is no longer near you. He takes full advantage of these moments, shifting your peaceful dreams into tear-jerking nightmares all while gently loving on you. Peppering kisses all over your face, gently holding your face in his hands, fixing the blanket when it moves off you. As cruel as he has to be during these times, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Freminet has spent his whole life thinking love didn’t exist, now that he had you, he wasn’t planning to let you just up and leave. You belonged to him, his initials inked onto the back of your neck proved that.

[soapssuds]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 9 | what he deserves

Warnings | execution, blood, gore, death, yandere satoru, sexual content, etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

GOJO SAYU laughed. His eyes dripping with tears, red and puffy. It was a stark contrast to the maniacal laughter escaping his grinning lips as he struggled against his constraints.

"She belongs to me! In every life she belongs to me!"

When Gojo died as Seiji in his last life, he couldn't help but to be overrun with guilt. But he didn't have a choice. Y/n married some man that wasn't him.

And in this new life, y/n was but a sweet little baker. Her cheeks were rosy. Her hair curled. Her tits looked like they needed a good grope too in the pretty (color) kimono she always wore.

The moment that Gojo Sayu saw her, his memories immediately came flooding back. He didn't stop himself from running up to her. Grabbing her. Holding her close. She was slightly older than him, he could tell. And as she hit his arm and told him to let her go, he didn't. He held on that much tighter.

Even when her own children came running out of the bakery and started hitting at his legs.

He understood where Gojo Seiji was coming from.

It was time to start over.

AGAIN.

"Gojo Sayu, for murdering the l/n family, you have been sentenced to death."

He grinned. His sick and twisted mind spinning as the rope around his neck dug tighter into his skin, his flesh.

"Any last words."

"I can't wait to see her again...and next time, she'll only be with me!"

The words of a mad man.

The Gojo clan were disappointed. Disgusted, to say the least. To think one of their own, next clan leader no less, was able to fall to such depravity.

The current leader raised his arm and signaled for the rope to be cut.

Little did they know, he was lost to depravity a few lives ago, and as the rope snapped Gojo Sayu's neck, his laughter still haunted them all.

And it haunted GOJO SAYAMI too as he opened his eyes. The sun hitting his irises as he squinted.

"You're awake!"

He felt someone bend over him and block out the sun's rays and place a gentle kiss upon his lips. A small smile soon forming there as he raised a hand to cup the back of her head, deepening the kiss.

Breaking the kiss suddenly, she leant back and Gojo was blessed with her angelic features.

Y/n.

"Did you sleep well?"

The question brought him to the present. Where his head laid in her lap as the two basked in the sun in a flower field, far from any prying eyes.

"Mmm, it was a good nap, but I had a terrible dream."

He reached up and caressed her cheek. Her eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you..want to talk about it?"

It was so cute watching her worry over him, the sight caused him to grin.

"No," he finally answered as he thought about the dream. About the memories of his past lives, "its just a silly dream. Nothing to worry yourself over sweet girl."

"Are you sure?"

He watched her worried face, a smirk soon forming his lips as an idea took over, "well... maybe there is something you could do to make me feel better," he hummed out as sat up to pat his lap. The action caused her to blush, "Sayami! We- we aren't married yet! We can't do that stuff..."

He gave his best puppy dog eyes, an innocent facade overtaking his features as his lips formed a pout, "I just wanted you to sit in my lap, promise."

She eyed him a moment, suspicion raking her brain before she relented. She never could say no to him, and he always took advantage over that fact. (Not like he could say no to her either.)

When she finally plopped down into his lap, his arms were quick to snake around her waist. His chin nuzzling into the crook of her neck, causing her to laugh softly.

"Something funny, sweet girl?"

She placed her hands over his. Her fingers lightly tracing his knuckles, "its nothing, you just seem a bit more clingy today is all."

He hummed, "I'm just trying to show i love you."

That and because I remembered everything... I still can't believe my past self went crazy and got himself executed. What an idiot.

He wasn't sure if he was calling himself an idiot or not since him and his past selves were technically the same person. The same soul.

Well, whatever.

"Besides, it feels like we finally got what we deserve you know?"

She smiled fondly. Her fingers tracing small shapes on the back of his hands, "yeah .. with me being a commoner, I never would of imagined that your father would of let me get engaged with you. I'm so happy that we get to be together, Sayami."

That wasn't what Gojo was referring to. He was actually meaning how long it took for them to get together. It's been litteral centuries after all. The two of them have already been through a number of lives. And finally finally Gojo feels like him and y/n are getting the happy ending they deserved.

But y/n didn't need to know that. She didn't need to know of all the trouble he went through to finally get here.

Because it didn't matter anymore. Not with her sitting on his lap so prettily. Which, of course, caused his little dirty thought from earlier come into play. His hands breaking their hold on her stomach and carefully maneuvering to her waist.

"Sa- ?!"

She was quickly cut off when he pressed down, his now hard, clothed cock pressing against her ass.

"Sayami?!"

"What," he said with a chuckle, "we've done this before. You know," he leant forward where his breath tickled her ear, "where I hump that pretty cunt of yours and feel how soaked your panties get. And get to hear you beg for my fingers~. Granted, what I wouldn't give to have those tight walls of yours snug on my cock, but oh well, its like you said, we aren't married yet," he moved his lips down her neck. Teeth nipping and bitting, mouth sucking, tongue licking.

"We- we're outside though."

He could feel her resolve crumble as she squirmed, and before he could say anything else to entice her, she had turned in his grasp, her legs drapping over his sides as she ground against his erection. Her mewls and moans echoing into the air as she placed her hands on his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric when she pressed her pelvis down.

"S- sayami~"

He helped her grind against him, his own hands gripping her hips as he forced her to move and and forth, against his hardening length that pressed tight in his trousers.

"Shit! Its in moments like these where I really want to fuck you dumb!"

He grunted and moaned, his forehead pressing against her own as pleasure mixed together.

She whined as she tried to quicken thr pace, the sight causing him to smirk as he took in her flushed features.

"Close?"

She nodded wordlessly, and he couldn't help but to groan at the sight. Oh what he wouldnt give to finally see her come undone on his cock instead. But whatever, he could wait.

He lived many lives after all. A few more days wouldn't hurt. Or maybe it would...

Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix @zeniiis @rin1802 @mrowwww @kenstarsworld

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part five

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

a/n: okay so now we're getting into the good stuff and i'm so so excited!!

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

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

"Are you joking? Cheap bastard..." Billy grumbles as you step into the stables of a ranch on the outskirts of Silver City.

You had just played a show at the saloon here, voice a little tired and worn along with the rest of you as you prepare to settle in for the night. You hadn't played here before, but sometimes you just got set up with less than ideal accommodations- it was your trade, and you really didn't mind it.

You and Billy had fallen into a stable routine over the last few weeks, wandering city to city and asking both familiar and unfamiliar bar men if you could play there in exchange for nothing more than tips and a place to stay. Hey, it was a life Billy was familiar with. Despite the legality of your endeavours, you had a decent bit in common.

"Hm?" You hum quietly, digging out the cleaned out jar you'd been using for water, twisting the lid off as you glance up at him, sitting yourself down on a comfortable looking stack of hay.

Billy wasn't one to complain as look as he was sleeping somewhere safe, but you certainly deserved better than a hay stack in a stable. The smell of horses would linger in your hair until the next time you found a creek to bathe in.

"We can't sleep here, darlin'. It ain't comfortable. Hardly even safe." He says, bag slung over his shoulder as he gestures back toward the wide open door to the stables. Hell, he would rob these people of their horses if you weren't with him. They were practically begging the wrong crew to pass by and do it.

The nickname you had now become accustomed to hardly even makes you blush anymore as you take a sip out of the lukewarm water in the jar, letting the liquid sit in your mouth for a few moments as you look around at what he meant. You shrug before swallowing, feeling a bit more refreshed already. "It's just for a night or two. I've slept places worse."

You hold up your hand before he continues complaining, reaching into your bag, falling apart at the seams, and pulling out a small blanket that was in similar shape. You stand up to shake it out after closing and setting down your water, laying the blanket across the hay bale next to where you were sitting.

Billy recognized it, you had been using it as a pillow the entire time he'd been with you- rolling it up under your head regardless of the state of the pillows in the beds you were borrowing in spare bedrooms or vacant spaces at the inns covered kindly by the bar owners for the night.

"That tiny blanket ain't gonna do a thing to keep you warm once the chill sets in." He shakes his head and your expression drops, hardly even noticeable as you look between him and your blanket.

"I... well..." For the first time since he met you, you seem hesitant or almost embarrassed about something. "I just thought you'd rather lay on that then the hay, that's all. It can be kinda pokey."

Oh.

His heart sinks in his chest as he looks at you. You had laid it out for him, in hopes of keeping him a little more comfortable when you thought he clearly didn't like the idea of sleeping out here on the ground. It was the best you could offer, and it wasn't like you had many other options for the night.

Weeks ago you wouldn't even let him touch your guitar case; you still weren't very easily accepting of the idea.

"Hey, hey! I ain't gonna run with it, I'm just helpin' you out. Relax." Billy said with a laugh, lifting the case over his head, high up in the air and supporting the other end with his free hand while you jumped to try and grab it from him.

He found that little scowl on your face adorable.

"I can carry it!" You had insisted frustratedly, giving up on jumping for it when you realized that the best you could do is knock your precious guitar from his hands and send it tumbling to the ground.

Needless to say, you were quite possessive of your things, and the significance behind the gesture of you offering your blanket to him was not lost.

Billy shakes his head. "You ain't gotta give that to me. I appreciate it, that's real sweet, but you better save it for yourself..." He hesitates for a moment, eyes drifting to the blanket again. "I know it's special to ya."

You don't say anything in response, sheepishly nodding and grabbing the blanket again, with much less care than you had laid it down with. As if you were in a hurry to hide it away again, to bunch it up as a pillow instead of leave its ratty nature exposed.

"Pack up your stuff. We ain't sleepin' in this pig pen." Billy says, taking on a more cheerful tone and waving his hand for you to follow him to the door. "Come on."

"Huh? You got a better idea of where we can sleep?" You ask, blanket tucked under your arm as your brow mimics its wrinkled material in your confusion.

"I do, actually. Do ya trust me?"

Apparently the answer to that question is yes, and you only regret that decision a handful of times as he leads you and your stolen horses up a muddied, narrow, and undoubtedly dangerous path that leads to god knows where in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

"So... did you pre-dig a shallow grave for me out here or somethin'? I always knew you were planning to kill me." You hum, holding the reins of your horse behind your back as you lead it up the small and rocky trail.

Billy rolls his eyes, scoffing out a laugh that you can just make out from up ahead. "No," he chuckles, "I'm not going to kill you, darlin'."

"I am yet to hear a better explanation for why you're dragging me out to the middle of nowhere, but okay." You snide, but for the most part it was playful. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, well, hopefully. He had had plenty of similar opportunities in the previous weeks, so your guard was down just a little bit.

"Did I ever tell you I used to live here?" He asks, glancing back at you.

"Silver City?" You ask, more curious than teasing or annoyed now. "No, you didn't. I thought you were on the road too much for that."

"Well, yeah, but that was after I lived here for a few years." He explains with a small shrug you can hardly see with the distance of his horse separating you. "With my ma and my kid brother. They had to move here with her worthless fuck of a husband after he kept losing work, and we heard there was some out here."

He'd never spoken of his family before. At least not to you. At least not in the last several weeks in which time you had hardly been apart, and the honesty shocks you. It is very welcome, though.

"Oh... well... are they still here? In Silver City, I mean." You say, knowing that this should be carefully navigated if you wanted to hear more about his life in the future. If you wanted him to trust you.

"I don't know about Antrim, but my brother and my ma passed a long while ago. That's why I left, had nothing to stay here for anymore."

In the moonlight you can just make out his figure a little ways in front of you as he shrugs, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if he hadn't lost everything, lost his family. How could he not have told you before? In all these weeks he had been helping you in order to get back to your own family, he had never once mentioned that he lost his too.

"I'm so sorry," Is the best you can come up with, despite your own insistence those weeks before that apologies only make you feel worse. Make it more real- but what else were you to say? "For what it's worth."

"Hey," He chuckles, surprising you a bit. "It's worth somethin' to me."

It isn't long before you come to a clearing at the top of a hill, a steep cliff overlooking what you assume to be an old mining site picked right dry. But you don't pay much attention to that, quickly distracted by the view above you- the trees having opened up to the beautiful sky again.

Billy tied the reins of his horse to one of the thinner tree limbs, before dusting his hands off on his trousers as he walks back into the clearing fully to join you where you had stopped hard in your tracks. He gestures up to the sky as they spread out in a vast sheet of light and glittering wonder, their beauty unhindered by clouds or the tree line.

"See? I ain't gonna kill you. Ta-da, doll."

You're mesmerized, hardly hearing his words. "Heaven's a touch away." You whisper, and he hardly catches it as the reflection of the stars flicker in your already sparkling bright eyes.

His smile widened as your own did, and he nodded. Heaven's a touch away.

He would have said something else, but he was too busy being hypnotized by the way the moonlight reflected off your skin and made you glow like an angel.

Billy chuckled softly at how awed you were by the display, glancing up at the sky before looking over at you again.

For just a moment, he wanted to take you by the waist and bring you closer, to pull you against his body as you stared above your heads. He wanted to keep you warm and whisper sweet things in your ear as the stars shined down on you both.

But he held back. You weren't his to hold. Not yet.

"It's nice, ain't it?" He asks after a moment, averting his gaze finally from you and up at the stars you were oh so entranced with.

"Sure is." You agree quietly. "Feel's like I could reach out and touch 'em."

You look over at him after a moment, catching him taking his hat off so he could get a better look, sweeping his scruffy hair back away from his eyes. "How'd you find this place?" You ask after a moment.

He shrugs again, familiar. "Like I said, I lived down in town under the same roof as the worst man in the west. Needed somewhere to go."

You nod silently, looking up at the stars again. "Well, I'm glad you did. It's beautiful." You say with a small grin.

Billy hums in agreement. "I figured if we'd be spendin' the night out in the cold anyway, we might as well have some space and a nice view."

"This is why I prefer the west to the city." You say with a nod, placing your guitar case on the ground and sliding your bag off your shoulder to land on top of it. "Even on the highest roof you couldn't get a view like this."

You dig around in your bag for your blanket again, delicately laying it out on the ground for the two of you to lay on while you looked up at the stars until you fell asleep. You can't help imagining how much Max would have loved this. All the kids would have, but at least they could look up and see it again.

If Max were to open his eyes six feet under and look up, he'd be well lucky to see anything other than pure, peaceful darkness.

You lay down, and without a word, Billy does as well. He props up one knee and folds his hands behind his head, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing about his family.

"Are you a religious man, Billy?" You ask after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, letting your head fall to the side to look at him.

"Used to be." He hums, still gazing up at the stars. "Was how I was raised, but I'll be honest, my beliefs on it are much the same as yours these days." He explains.

What kind of god could take two kids families from them like this?

"I don't blame you." You say quietly. But you do suppose that assuming there was a higher power, it was the very same one that stripped your family from you for a second time in your life, only to present you with a friend in William Bonney. Maybe that isn't the worst thing in the world.

"Or, I mean, they were for a while. I really don't know anymore." He muses. "I try not to think about it."

He didn't really have a lot left to believe in. Same as you. Not the god who killed everyone he had ever loved, not the justice system that's been chasing him down for a long while now, and not in himself to do the right things. You had him beat, in that regard. He could see it in every day spent with you. But is that not a blessing all in its own?

"No one does. I think that's kind of the idea." You reply with a slight laugh, wanting to lighten things up a little bit. "Y'know, tests of faith and all that."

"Fair." He agrees softly, looking over at you again finally and giving you a small grin.

"Although," You tilt your head slightly, looking up at the sparkling sky again. "Day in and day out, folks die and babies are born, there's great pain to be found on both ends of life. But if there's someone around to bring you in, and someone to miss you when you're gone, things couldn't have been too bad along the way." You ramble on a bit, deep in thought as you try to communicate a simplified version of what you were trying to convince yourself.

Billy was a little bit speechless for a moment, weighing the accuracy of your assessment. After a few seconds, he lets out a laugh. "I guess you're right, but I'm not sure I'll have many folks missin' me when I'm gone."

"I'd miss you." You reply quietly, with minimal hesitation. "If we parted ways tomorrow and I never saw you again, I'd remember the last few weeks fondly. It's nice to not be alone."

He isn't sure if it's hunger or what that makes his stomach turn and a tightness form in his chest. He's not positive he won't throw up right there on your blanket over the rush of feelings at the most simplest of words.

"Well, thanks." He says, laugh long faded as he looks up at the deep navy sky that felt so close that you thought you had a chance at touching it. "I'd miss you too."

You smile to yourself in contentment, shifting a bit to get more comfortable for the long night ahead of sleeping in the grass at the top of this hill familiar to only one of you.

Billy spares you another glance in the long silence that follows, unbothered by the chirping of crickets and the occasional shift of your horses hooves in the dirt a few feet away.

The stars were beautiful. This was a known fact.

But you were far more heavenly in his eyes.

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

[suiana]

I love your inspired by Tomie yandere bf so bad!!! Can I ask what he will do if the reader won't play along just because he's pretty? I want to self insert bc I wouldn't excuse murder even if I find this guy HELLA attractive and would be creeped out if someone was stalking me 😩 (sorry if its too much to ask)

Love you non the less 💕

Your new "🤏🍷" anon

he'd be UPSET. bro would be >:( 25/8 AND HED THROW TANTRUMS

yandere! boyfriend x gn reader

"what?! what do you mean you hate it?!"

"...you're acting like a child. why would I enjoy you hurting others?"

"because they hurt you! why can't you see I'm just getting revenge for you?! I do this because I love you!"

it's the nth time this week that your boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. this time, it was about you not appreciating his 'acts of punishment' towards those who hurt you. you know, it wasn't as bad as compared to the other times he did something like this but you couldn't stand him using your name for something like this.

your boyfriend was a obsessive, jealous and possessive guy. really, he'd have the head of anyone who tried to take you from him and he wouldn't have any remorse! because he loves you that much that he can't care less about the lives of others. to him, they're all trash. worthless flies meant to be used and discarded.

even moreso the people who show interest in you. those people aren't even meant to be used! just thrown away like trash! and that was exactly what he did towards the girl who asked for your number.

"she didn't even do anything wrong."

"she dared to ask for your number! your! number!"

you sighed, shaking your head as your boyfriend started complaining about how she didn't even deserve to have a glance in your direction. honestly! he was so damn clingy and possessive at times that you wished he'd just shut up. it didn't matter that he was attractive. he was hurting others just simply because of his obsession.

and that's not even the worst of it! he had even stalked you! broke into your house and was being a total creep and criminal! but of course... he used his beauty to his advantage. who would believe such a handsome and beautiful guy like him did such a thing, hm? and he was your boyfriend too! why would your boyfriend do such a thing? you're just being delusional.

to be honest you couldn't keep up with his behaviour. it was exhausting. but you couldn't even break up with him if you wanted to. because whenever you tried, something horrible would happen. accidents, bank account freezing, his fans attempting to murder you... you'd be better off just staying with him.

"can't you see? I'm just trying to protect and love you, darling..."

you kept quiet.

oh well. there was no escape from him. he'd always be there for you whether you liked it or not. so, you decided to push aside the nagging guilt and have some rest. it was already late at night after all.

"...let's just sleep already."

he smiled.

"good job darling! let's go~!"

you should've never had met him.

[kylesgarrick]

I would love to see javier x male reader!! Maybe something where reader gifts javier a present?

i realised that like i havent completed a single ask, and i swear im getting to them (maybe in a year or so), but i REALLY wanted to do this!

javier escuella x male reader, criticism always appreciated. i chose to not include that much spanish, i don’t speak spanish and do not want to butcher it or makes any of my spanish readers uncomfortable, sorry. set in chapter 1 :) DID NOT PROOF READ

javier has been stressed recently, it’s hard to get through winter by itself, but its been even worse after everything that happened at blackwater. the whole gang was barely getting by and he wasn’t sure everyone would survive the winter. he tried to not worry you too much and act confident in dutchs plans, but you could practically read his mind.

you saw how he was getting less and less sleep, staying up thinking about what happened on that boat with the pinkertons. how he was clinging onto you whenever he could, acting like you were gonna leave him or die if he wasn’t there with you. you wanted to treat him to something nice, get rid of his worries or atleast make him feel slightly better, even if it lasts only an hour.

so the second you hear that javier is going on another stressful mission to try kill colm o’driscoll with dutch and a few others, you decide to go looking for something to surprise him with. yes, it was a dumb idea. you probably shouldn’t have done it in the winter alone, especially after what happened with john and the wolves. but you honestly couldn’t care less, javier deserved something nice.

while you were waving them goodbye, javier gave you one big hug, and a little kiss on the cheek. most people were okay with you and javier being two men inlove, but it was still the 1800s and you weren’t going to get murdered for your love. you caught micah scoffing in disgust at the sight of you two and you roll your eyes, before drifting your attention back to javier.

“stay safe, love” you say, as javier wraps his arms around your waist and you put your arm around his neck, the rest of the gang was still preparing themselves for the mission. he smiles softly, “i will, amor.” you exchange one last kiss, before he gets on his horse and rides out with the rest of the gang.

once you make sure they’re out of seeing distance, you hop on your horse and ride into the snowy forest, looking for things to get for him. you end up finding an old pocket watch and a piece of wood. perfect! you could try carve him something, like a mini guitar or a horse. you rode back to camp, thinking of what you could do.

you go into your tent and begin carving a mini guitar for him, after a few hours he gets home and you quickly put it under your pillow and run over to him, pulling him in for a hug and a kiss, he laughs as you practically jump up on him, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back. “someone’s excited to see me” he smiles, and you smile back at him.

“i have a surprise for you” you whisper in his ear, before leading him back to the tent. he was clearly thinking of some other surprise with the way he was shamelessly looking at your ass while smirking. when you get inside the tent, you reach under your pillow, getting nervous that he might not like it. when you pull out the mini hand-carved guitar sculpture, he gasps, eyes wide.

he stares at it in shock “you did this for me?” he says, as he sits down next to you and admires the mini sculpture. “i just thought that you’ve been stressed lately, i wanted to do something nice.” he looks at you, he places the sculpture in his lap before resting his hand on your cheek, bringing you in for a deep kiss. his lips were soft, and you felt his facial hair tickle your face, making you giggle a bit. he deepened the kiss, grabbing your waist as you straddled his lap, you finally break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. “i love you, javier.” “i love you more, my sweet thing”

ending is rushed! i can make a smut pt2 if you guys want :) this is so bad im sorry😭 barely any of its even about javier ARBE anon, if you dont like it and want me to redo it, just ask!!

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Ooo!! Here's an idea I've had for awhile :D with some of the less cuddly boys, what about an s/o who's really clingy, and asks if it'd be okay if they cuddled/slept with with friends (all platonic!) To get their cuddle fix in!!

Underswap Sans - It depends on his mood. Usually, he will accept you fall asleep next to him, but the second you're asleep, he's GONE. He can't stand to just lay there for too long, he needs to move.

Horrorswap Sans - He can accept if you're really close, but usually, he will shake it off nicely, saying you don't need him to sleep better and that he's not that comfortable anyway. He's anxious about people touching him since the Underground, it can make him very uncomfortable.

Horrorfell Sans - He will sigh deeply looking at you, but he will do it, since he likes you. He will still sigh loudly from time to time to show you he's not happy with this lol.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He looks at you from head to toe with disdain and just smiles. "No, thanks." And then he goes back to whatever he's doing lol, he doesn't care.

Farmtale Sans - If you argue for twenty minutes about why you deserve this cuddle session, he might get annoyed and say yes but don't expect too much from him. He has work to do, and staying there and doing nothing is holding him back from doing this.

Mafiatale Papyrus - Urgh, he guesses he can make an effort. He's staring at you with nothing but disgust in his eyes after not even ten seconds. He hates when people get touchy. Since you're friends, he won't say anything. He's just giving you the look. You better not get used to it.

Mafiafell Papyrus - He will do it. But he will also complain and whine the entire time so it's not really relaxing. But eh, at least he did it. Sort of.

Error - He glares at you anxiously. If you gets too close, he will hiss at you. He doesn't like it, he doesn't care you're friends or whatever. There are pillows, use a pillow already!

Dustale Sans - You're hugging him. He's just... Standing there nervously, unsure of what he's supposed to do. He will be tense the entire cuddle session, just staring at you like you're going to murder him any second lol.

[beanhardy]

Hold Me Tight and Tender

One shot : Peeta x reader

Angst😡 small bit of fluff ❤️

Peeta wakes up from a nightmare, but you’re here to keep him safe.

His lungs burn, legs ache and head throbs. The deep gash on Peeta’s forehead slowly gushing with blood, flowing down his brow and into his eyes blurring his vision. He’s severely out of breath and feels light headed. He knows he can’t stop because if he does it means certain death.

The mutt chasing behind him is getting closer by the second and the rocky terrain of the arena is not making running any easier for him. Peeta can feel the mutts teeth grab a hold of his shirt ripping the back. Peeta’s exhaustion is getting to him. He fights the aching pain in his muscles to keep going, the adrenaline and fear being the only thing keeping him going.

But it’s not enough, he’s not fast enough, strong enough to stay alive. Each time the mutt tries to bite at him he can feel and hear it get closer and closer. Ahead of Peeta is a cliff. A dead end. He’s not going to make it. Will he jump and fall to his death? Or stop and be mauled by the capitols mutts? He doesn’t have the luxury of time to decide so he jumps. At least he’ll be in less pain right? He won’t be ripped apart limb from limb like a lamb for slaughter.

Just as he jumps he hears a familiar voice shouting his name from afar, “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”.

Peeta is drenched in sweat and tears thrashing in his sleep. You wrestle his sleeping form to try and pin him down. He could hurt himself or even you. “PEETA WAKE UP PEETA!”. He shoots up from his lying position and screams at the top of his lungs “HELP ME PLEASE”. His sobbing figure shakes in fear still not filling realising it was just a really bad nightmare. You reach for him once more holding him in a vice grip. His head in your hand laying against your chest, your other hand wrapped around his back. “Peeta shhhhh, please my love you’re home, you’re safe, you’re not in the arena anymore”, you reassure him sternly. Peeta sobs in your arms, shaking like a leaf. The sound of his cries breaks your heart every time.

You wish you could take away his pain. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, but the best you can do right now is be there for him during his nightmares. His sobs start to quiet down and you revert to rocking him gently, stroking his drenched hair to try calm him down even more. You can tell his breathing is starting to regulate. You start singing a soft tune for him to fully calm down.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three”

Your voice slowly trailed off as you finished the song. Peeta’s crying had stoped and his breathing was back to normal. You gave him a reassuring kiss to his sweaty forehead. You hear a hoarse “thank you” coming from the man in your arms, “I woke you up didn’t I? I’m sorry y/n ”. You let out a heartbroken chuckle in response. Your sweet boy just had a horrific nightmare and he’s worried about waking you up? Nobody’s deserves this man yet somehow he thinks you do. “Never apologise for having a nightmare Peeta”, you reply to him.

He looks up at you from under your chin, his head puffy and red from crying. Looking down at him you feel your heart break all over again. For the boy he used to be, unharmed by torture of the capitol. You give him another gentle kiss this time of his lips. It’s sweet but holds a lot of yearning at the same time. Yearning for comfort and safety. For your warmth. You hear Peeta’s broken voice say to you, “please keep singing, it makes me feel better”. You happily oblige, willing to do anything to make your man feel better. It’s the least he deserves.

“Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be. If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.”

[smokersbaby]

Safe Place

Characters: Smoker TW: hurt/comfort, fluff, mentioning of murders Reader: gender neutral WC: +1k Author's note: I started writing this having just fluff in mind and it went in the opposite direction. I managed to add the cheesy part somehow

That grumpy face of his, two cigars hanging from the side of his mouth and his jaw clenched almost crushing them.

It was no clue that it wasn't the best day for Smoker and you could see it in every movement he made, how his body tensed feeling your hand caressing his cheek in an attempt to make him feel better.

"Love…" you whispered, a kind expression on your face trying to not upset him more than he already was. He didn't answer. His eyes were fixed on a newspaper reporting yesterday's news, his eyebrows narrowed as to express how sad he was looking at the picture in the journal.

Your eyes looked down at what he was reading on the paper: a picture of a burned-down house, the title explaining how a pirate killed a whole family and set fire to their house after robbing it. Smoker's hands clenched on the newspaper as if this news made his heart torn.

Then you remembered. Yesterday Smoker returned home late at night after work, the sound of him kicking off his boots woke you up suddenly from your slumber. You waited 10 then 20 minutes for him to come to bed but he didn't. You got dragged back into your sleep before seeing him that night.

As you woke up this morning, Smoker had already left, another day without seeing or having a chance to talk to him. You found an empty glass with his favourite bottle of whiskey near to it and then you realized he didn't even come to bed after you fell asleep as he spent the night in the kitchen and fell asleep with his head on the table.

What happened yesterday? The answer was under your eyes as you read the newspaper. "I didn't manage to save them" he said in a murmur, the paper crumpling under his fingers. There was no need for other explanations: he managed to capture the pirate who committed the crime, but it was too late, that bastard had already killed the whole family and he couldn't do anything.

Smoker buried his face in his hands, his sorrow taking over him. It wasn't the first time a thing like that happened but he couldn't get accustomed to such tragedies.

Even if he was good at hiding his emotions from his subordinates and appearing tough as a rock, the home was the only place he let himself feel emotions without any fear of showing them to you.

You knew Smoker well and for that reason, you also knew words weren't necessary in such a delicate moment. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind as he was sitting at the table, you placed your head into the crook of his neck trying to comfort him making feel your presence.

The newspaper was still in his hands, with a slow movement you took that away from his hands closing it, the image on the paper made him only feel worse so he didn't deserve to see it any longer.

That was the worst part of his duty: seeing people suffering and dying because of pirates and criminals, it was also the reason that drove him to choose such a straining job.

Smoker let out a sigh and grabbed your hands squeezing them a bit as you were hugging him from behind. He got up from his chair and stood in front of you, his strong arms wrapping your body in a warm embrace as if it was his way to thank you for being close to him even in the worst moments.

Not a single word was spoken. Your fingers slipping through his white hair put a light smile on his face, his heart being less heavy during that moment. The feeling of his big hands caressing your back made you realize how much he needed you, not only in that harsh moment but every day of his life.

He picked you up in his arms, walking towards your shared bedroom carrying you as if you were the most precious thing in his world. He let you down on the bed, and you opened up your arms to him as to say "come here".

You didn't have to tell him twice since he reached you on the soft mattress, placing his head on your chest still being careful to not squish you too much under his weight.

He hugged your waist as he laid on top of you snuggling against your chest. Seeing him like that made your heart melt, it was one of the rare time you was the one cuddling and comforting him and not the contrary.

You placed a kiss on the top of his head, the slow movement of your hands through his hair made him relax so much to get him to fall asleep.

After a few minutes, you started talking to him in a shooting tone, as if your voice could reach him in his slumber. "It wasn't your fault Smoker, I want you to know that. You saved so many lives capturing pirates and just because this time you didn't manage to stop him from committing his crimes it doesn't mean that you are not worthy. Life is unfair, we all know it. But fortunately, people like you exist and I'm so proud of you.".

A wide smile appeared on his face "That was indeed cheesy but I appreciated it, thank you my love" he whispered, answering back to you. A blush appeared on your face as you realized that he wasn't sleeping and he heard every single word of yours.

You sighed pretending to be annoyed by his behaviour, but you couldn't hold a grudge against him as he was watching you with such an innocent stare that made your heart melt.

A smile spread on your face, you leaned forward to kiss him while him still laying on your chest to snuggle. "I love you" he murmured against your lips, caressing your cheeks and showing you how much you meant to him.

He fell asleep on you, for real this time, knowing he had a person who truly cared and appreciated him just as he was.

[frozenjokes]

the sculk made me do it 🥺

ao3 link

LOOP 24

The following day was a matter of settling back down. Cub in particular was doing better than Scar had seen him over the past couple of weeks, which was a relief. The loop reset definitely helped; the difference between Cub’s health with and without his sculk medication was drastic, but maybe Cub also sensed the worst of it was over. Cleo and Scar hadn’t said so directly, they didn’t bring the medicine up at all, but it was possible the weight off their shoulders was so noticeable that Cub felt it too, spending less time in bed, hanging around more with Cleo, eating and drinking greater quantities, all these behaviors fairly noticeable within the span of the day.

Cleo kept Scar busy with the rope tricks. She had latched onto this as something new to fight her boredom, and she was relentless with her demands that Scar teach her everything he knew. His call home time didn’t reset until two more days, and he had nothing else to do, so he had zero objections.

Cleo was.. Not particularly talented at the sport, but they were quite persistent. They certainly had a lot more stamina than Scar did for these things, and even when Scar would firmly quit out to take his afternoon and evening naps, he still heard the whooshing of the lasso and the soft flopping of it against the floor. Occasionally Scar would wake up to loud scuffling, and if he bothered to open an eye he’d see Cleo stumbling over the rope as Cub chuckled in turn. Scar had banned the lasso from being used to hook Cub, but Scar did catch Cleo dragging Cub face down across the floor in the evening. After determining Cub still breathed, he figured this treatment was deserved and closed his eyes once more.

The following day was much of the same. Scar didn’t mind at all, he was really having quite a bit of fun, and at the back of his mind he noted they needed more stuff like this, more things to do, more things to laugh at and reasons to play like this together. These next few years weren’t going to be good, Scar didn’t expect them to be good, but he couldn’t stand for the expectation to be strictly bad either. He couldn’t stand to be scared all the time.

He really wanted Cleo to talk to Cub, try and convince him that the traps and the murder- that was bad for all of them. Maybe she was just waiting for a chance to speak to him one on one.. She’d been the one to ask him to stick around in the safe room after all, and it was clear to Scar what that meant. Cub still hadn’t tried to leave.

But Cleo also hadn’t agreed to say anything. They hadn’t agreed to do anything at all. Scar had hoped he’d gotten through to her, but who really knew what she was thinking. She was sure intent on changing the subject of her role in this at every opportunity.

Scar tried not to hold it against them. He didn’t want to be mad at them, he really didn’t like holding grudges, he just wanted things to be better, and honestly he really didn’t think he was asking for that much! But those were just the thoughts that haunted him at night, sleeping on a literal bed of negativity; Cub hadn’t returned to Cleo’s bed yet, and even though Scar and Cleo were done administering his medication daily, Scar still figured it would be best if he kept up consistency for the future.

But the evening had been fun, it had been very fun, and that’s where Scar wanted to focus his energy. He had worked out a little choreography with Cleo throughout the day to perform for Cub in the evening, even if they didn’t have any music and Cub had seen them practicing the entire time. It was still fantastic; nailing their sheets to the wall to resemble curtains, laying out flattened cardboard boxes to line the edge of their ‘stage,’ dancing and laughing and holding the lasso hand in hand, no matter how stupid it probably looked in the end. The feeling was exhilarating, near perfect in this shabby little home they’d made for themselves here. Home.. what a foreign feeling that was, huh?

Scar slept easier on that cloud of comforting thought. Maybe it was possible to engineer a home out of this place afterall.

…

Scar did go to speak to Mumbo the next day, feeling quite chipper and awfully good about himself, but was stopped directly in his tracks by a new addition to the control room.

There was a window.

There had never been a window before. That had never made any sense to Scar; what kind of spaceship didn’t have a window?? You had to see out, didn’t you? He supposed Cub and Cleo didn’t, technically, but a window felt like basic decency! This window wasn’t centered where the monitors were, but Scar didn’t expect the Earth humans to be able to do anything right. Regardless of the complete oddity of having a random ass window plopped down on the left wall of the ship, it was still kind of nice, the view big enough as to where you could sit on the floor and just stare out, and man, Scar had really missed space. That was one of his favorite things about coming up here really.. staring out the windows..

After about ten minutes of spacing out (haha, Scar thought to himself), Scar unglued himself from the side of the control room to call Mumbo. He was probably a bit late at this point and didn’t want to keep Mumbo waiting. It was pleasant, regardless. Mumbo was quite affronted that they normally had no windows at all, claiming another count of human cruelty, and Scar was bolstered by his confidence. It was cruel! Mumbo was completely right! Why the hell weren’t the humans allowed to have windows in this loveless place!?

Scar spent a few more minutes staring out of it before going back to the safe room to announce his discovery.

“There’s a window?”

Scar had been looking to Cleo for a reaction, and nearly jumped out of his skin when Cub spoke. Not a moment later he was up, and Scar wouldn’t have been surprised if a trail of flame exploded from the path Cub made, crossing the safe room in seconds and zipping out the door just as fast.

Cleo, as she always seemed to be when Scar encountered a new Cub-ism for the first time, looked unconcerned, bordering on amused. “Better get his mattress then.”

“Wh- What?” Scar didn’t get an answer when Cleo got to their feet, wandering over to Cub’s bed and beginning to strip the sheets. “What do you mean?”

“He’ll sleep on the floor if I don’t take his damn bed to him like the precious little princess he is. It’s alright, I don’t mind. I think it’s sweet.”

Scar swallowed, disconcerted. “He likes the window that much, huh?”

“You bet. He’s really into space, did you know that? You must’ve, sometimes he gets going about it and just doesn’t stop.” Scar did indeed know this, and he was a fascinated listener, even if he was absorbing approximately zero of the information Cub was spouting. He got the impression Cub’s raving wasn’t for Scar’s benefit anyway. “Total nut. But yeah, the windows are a rarity, and he gets.. uppity isn’t quite the right word. Territorial? He likes his windows.”

“Really,” Scar growled, which seemed to alarm Cleo, turning back from their work on his bed to amend.

“Not bad, it’s not bad, Scar. He’s not violent or anything- mostly-”

“I am so damn tired of him! Is he seriously going to comendeer the fucking window!? No! That’s so- No! What is he going to do if I want a little window time too, lose his fucking mind? Put a gun to my head and make me hang myself? Seriously!”

“I..” Cleo pursed their lips, discomfort clear in every wrinkle of their face, “Scar, as far as Cub’s habits go, this is pretty inconsequential, isn’t it? I don’t care about the dumb window, why not just let him have this?”

“Of course you don’t care! You’d do anything if it meant avoiding confrontation with Cub in any way that matters!”

Scar saw Cleo visibly strain herself from snapping at him, clenching and unclenching her fists as she scrambled for any sort of excuse, “Is this really something that matters, Scar?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“But I don’t care about the-“

“I CARE!” Scar pounded an open palm against his chest, “I CARE!!” Scar spat a hearty snarl, and Cleo stumbled back as he marched toward the bed, but Scar paid them no mind, tearing the heavier blanket off away. On his way to the control room he snatched his lasso from his spacesuit, not looking back. He didn’t need to see to know Cleo was too cowardly to follow him.

Cub did not look even as Scar stormed into the control room, eyes glued to the vast beyond, but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. Cub yelped when Scar snatched his collar, wrestling him to the floor with an ease granted by his many species advantages, only getting kicked a couple times before Cub was securely wrapped in the blanket from his bedspread, limbs restrained further by the rope tied tight around his stomach and thighs, locking everything in place.

Cub never screamed, but the little noise he was making softened to inaudible mumbling after it was clear he’d been beat, then silence when Scar turned his sorry ass back to face the dumbfuck window he cared so much about.

Scar sat beside him, unacknowledged any further by Cub.

“I have had it up to here with you,” Scar growled, gesturing aggressively, and while Cub only glanced his way, Scar was satisfied enough to have his attention. “I am so tired of trying to work with you just to have you blow up every time you’re challenged. The way you want to live isn’t sustainable for ANYONE, not me, not you, and not Cleo! You’re so fucking selfish, obstinate, and utterly juvinile that I’d rather pull out each one of my hairs than live in the same vicinity, but I don’t get a choice! I don’t. But the worst thing about you, THE WORST, is that you’ve convinced yourself there’s nothing you can do about this, that you were somehow always doomed to be insufferable, when you CHOOSE it. You choose to be this, and you are still choosing to be this, even when you’re actively hurting everyone around you! And I- I mean-“

Scar lost his stride as he faltered, memories too vivid rushing back in such a violent assault that if he was still standing, his knees would falter under him. “I don’t think.. I can’t believe you chose to do that to me. Trap me- Kill me like that. I know there’s something else going on. Something really bad, and I know it- it’s messing with your head, I know. I have to think you didn’t want to do that to me because you- I mean, why kill yourself, right? I don’t know. I think.. I think I can move past it, I really hope we fixed it, and I just.. I’m sorry. For what we had to do. I hated it. I hated every second of it, and even after everything, I still don’t want to hurt you. Maybe that’s stupid. I just- I want you to try! But you don’t want to, so you don’t. And more than anything else, that’s what makes me hate you.”

Scar drew his chin over his arms, all resting on his legs. “Sometimes I see these little moments. I see a guy who’s quiet, but always interested, always paying attention. He’s always doing something, making something, and some days he’s just fidgeting with his hands, filling time, but sometimes he does stuff that’s really cool. Sometimes he says something and I think ‘wow, I can’t believe he remembered that about me,’ or ‘wow, this guy’s really smart.’ Sometimes he’s profound. Sometimes he’s really thoughtful, sweet. You used to make games, didn’t you? Cleo said you liked to make games. You tried making darts that one time, but it didn’t really work out. I just..” Scar shook his head.

“I get so angry that I could have that Cub. I could have that, but you won’t let him come around unless your guard is all the way down, or unless there’s literally nothing else to do. Everyone has to know at all times exactly what you are, exactly how deep your edges can cut, but I’m tired of it. I want to see that other you. He doesn’t- he doesn’t even have to be nice. I don’t need a nice Cub. I just want one that isn’t so oppressive. Violent. I don’t want to fight you- I don’t want to be afraid of you! Honestly, if you need to scream at me or just- just scream in general- I’d rather you just do it! Just scream. Don’t.. hold it in until it ruins you. Until.. until some other thing in your head takes advantage of it. Manipulates you or.. or whatever that was.. I don’t think I really want to know. I just want you to be. You. The real you. Not the asshole you seem to have convinced yourself you need to be. I think we might all be happier, don’t you?”

Cub did not look up, and honestly, Scar did not want to know what he thought. “Don’t answer that.”

Cub’s nose scrunched in distaste, possibly the first hint of emotion that Scar could glean from him after all this time. “I will disappoint you.”

“I think that’s probably true.”

The tension in Cub’s face only grew. “Give up.”

Scar closed his eyes. “When it comes to choices, I don’t think that’s an option I have. I’m stuck here with you. And you’re stuck here with me. So.. Well, I guess we’ll see what happens, won’t we.”

Scar might not have noticed the opening of the hall door if not for Cleo’s grunting, the drag of the thin mattress thrumming through the previously very quiet space. A stark reminder of exactly whose side she was on, crystal clear, and violently Scar was reminded that she was the reason he would be getting nowhere. Cleo would only protect Scar so long as it meant protecting Cub first, so the cycle of hurt and pain would continue to ravage this ship like a hurricane over and over and over and-

Scar could not hide his revulsion. He could not stand to be in the same room as her right now. He left for his reset room without another word, unsure if he could ever stand to look at either of them ever again.

Just as well, he knew he had no choice.

…

There was no stopping Scar as he stormed out toward his reset room, and while Cleo felt the need to say something, he was gone before they could muster the words. Even Cub had torn his eyes from the window, watching Scar go with some confusion, or maybe interest? Cleo couldn’t parse it out.

Cub wriggled restlessly in the homemade prison of Scar’s design, and without a word Cleo freed him, a little exasperated but not surprised; they certainly didn’t blame Scar in any case. Given his and Cub’s history, this was a perfectly reasonable line of action.

Neither of them spoke as Cleo went back and forth from the safe room to get Cub’s pillows. Not that Cleo expected Cub to speak. She wasn’t sure if he could actually talk again or if the exclamation about the window was some kind of fluke. Either way, it was fine. He was receptive when they pushed the mattress up to the wall, moving out of the way then waiting while Cleo made the bed. Cub sat when she was finished. Back out the window. Cleo watched him for a long moment, a heavy exhaustion built over the course of years keeping their feet planted right where they were. She wanted to leave. She knew she couldn’t.

“Did you guys fight?” She hated how hoarse she felt.

Cub grunted, and for a few long moments, Cleo thought that was all she was going to get for today. “Pain in my fuckin’ ass.” Cub shifted just slightly, a little to the left. A little readjustment would have meant nothing for most people, and maybe this was nothing, but Cleo couldn’t stop themself from staring. Cub glanced back at them. As much as an invitation as anything. Cleo sat beside him, faintly stunned.

She looked out the window.

There was something to be said, then, about God. The Catholic God, the one she’d been forced to study in high school, bogged down by class requirements. Cleo didn’t really believe in God, at best they’d describe themself as agnostic, but sometimes they thought about him, thought about the distant figure in the dark, the concept that held so much weight in school. She thought about one class in particular, one idea posited by one of her more insightful teachers.

What is God? Who is God? Is he tall, larger than life, almost like a Jack and the Beanstalk giant? Long gray beard and hair, kind blue eyes, white, of course, God was always just as white as the men and women who weaponized Catholicism in the first place. God is good. God is holy.

Isn’t he?

Well some theologians or scholars or maybe even the big book itself said otherwise- if Cleo was being honest, she didn’t quite remember the source, only the idea.

God is unknowable. God is so far out of the reach of human comprehension that it is an extreme disservice to his image to attempt to describe him, paint her, even apply our pesky human pronouns to this great entity in the sky. God is beyond humanity. Attempts at description could only ever blemish his existence, dull a picture that is too bright and vibrant and impossibly beautiful.. God was not meant to be known. If anyone came to understand or witness him, they would not be able to put the experience to words.

Cleo saw God looking through that window. She saw it, and she could have cried, not at the sight, but because she would never be able to describe what she had the impossible privilege of witnessing without faulting this image, she would never be able to explain just how beautiful their lonely place in the world really was. Is this why Cub could never really tear his eyes away?

They blinked a few times, remembering after too long to breathe. Breathe again. They relaxed, slowly. Stopped feeling so utterly overwhelmed.

“I think Scar might be right. I think he might be right.”

Cub stiffened. “What did he say to you.” It wasn’t a question.

“Nothing that wasn’t true. I’m cowardly, mostly.”

Cub snorted. “You’re not.”

“I think I might be. In some areas more than others. I’d like to think that everything I’ve done since we’ve been here.. I’d like to think I’m in the right, you know? That I do what’s best for myself, for you, for Scar, but I- I mean, he’s right, isn’t he. I’m happy to attack you, challenge you, but not in the ways that really matter. I’m so focused on this balance I felt like we’ve struck, I’m unwilling to just say that I don’t want to hurt you anymore; I don’t want to yell at you or shoot you when I’m upset with you, and I don’t.. I don’t want to be killed by you either. Past all the excuses I’ve made for you, all the justification that I don’t really believe you’re doing it to hurt me, I just don’t.. like it. I don’t like being paranoid about you, I don’t like watching my back all the time, and I don’t like hurting. I don’t like dying in those stupid hallways.”

Cleo saw Cub’s fists trembling, along with his lip before he seethed, “Scar doesn’t understand! He doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it, Cleo, he thinks everything can just be fixed with an attitude adjustment like I wasn’t born broken, like there was anything I could have done to stop from turning out this way!”

“Cub, you’re not-“ but Cleo didn’t get the chance to finish, Cub’s coal eyes lit to flame as he turned on them.

“You don’t get it! You don’t know what it’s like to have- to have- to be so splintered. I need out like I need to breathe, I need, need to go, I can’t take it, they’ve trapped me and I can not take it, I need release, Cleo, and Scar is in my way, he’s in my way, I’ve been breathing ice for five years and he’s stomping on my throat, he’s peeling my skin away, and he wants me to be okay with that! How can you side with him?”

Cleo frowned. Obviously this was dramatic. She knew Cub to be belligerent, she knew him to be sensitive, but.. this was familiar. This felt old. Old, years old, sitting on opposite sides of a barred wall in their barren holding cells kind of old, clutching his hands in tight fists, carefully holding his arms and legs apart from each other like the skin was still red and raw, like just the threat of the sting left him utterly petrified. Cub was always so afraid to lay down. He was afraid it would hurt.

But he was fine. Visibly, the only problem was the sculk still crawling under his skin. Cub just couldn’t see it. Through delusions so intense, he couldn’t ground himself at all.

“He’s not hurting you. Your skin is still there, go on. Roll back your sleeves, touch your arms. It’s still there.”

“Cleo-“ Cub was wretched, but Cleo would not give, they had seen this before. They did not touch him, he was sensitive in this state, but he needed grounding.

“Cub, you’re okay. You can’t breathe because you’re anxious, you’re anxious, so let’s do it together. Unclench your fists, try at least.” Cub did try. He tried. He wasn’t very good at identifying feelings as they were, prone to delusions all too real if they spiraled out of control. Cleo really did believe it hurt him to breathe, air cold on his teeth and shards of ice lodged in his throat. The sculk did him zero favors.

Gently, experimenting with touch, Cleo guided his fingers over his knuckles. Hesitantly, he extended the pointer. He knew what to do. They’d done this before.

Cleo breathed in. With their own finger, they traced the hills and valleys of their knuckles from one side to the other, slow. She released the air as evenly as she’d taken it in, her finger taking the same journey across her knuckles in reverse. Cub followed in time, eyes squeezed shut. With time, Cleo felt her own shaky inhales steady, and gave Cub twice the amount of time to feel the same effect.

“Did it hurt when you touched your hands?” they asked, quiet.

“No,” he answered her, just as meek.

“Open your eyes. Look at them. The skin is still there, it’s not even red.” The same could not be said for his face, blotchy and flushed, but Cleo felt no need to mention it. Cub was slow in his inspection of his hands, even slower as he rolled back his sleeves, examining his arms. The dark lines of sculk under his skin held his attention for longer than anything else. With his fingers, he traced the lines as delicately as he’d touched his knuckles.

“It’s not fair,” Cub mumbled, eyes lidded and unfocused, “There’s no worse fate for a thing like me up here. I’m stuck. I need to go everywhere, and I am stuck. My head.. Can’t you feel it pounding? It wants to get out, Cleo, but we don’t have that choice.”

“When?”

“It wants out all the time.”

“When are your headaches, worst, Cub.” Gentle, but firm.

“After the resets. The resets. The big ones. It’s the sculk, Cleo. Pounding. Rhythmic. It’s angry, angry we’re stuck. That we have to start over. I have to please it somehow.” With his fist, Cub struck the mattress in even intervals, thump, thump, thump.

“Where do you feel it?”

“In my head,” impatience bled through his blunt reply, but Cleo remained calm.

“Where on your head, I meant. Show me with your hands.”

Cub hesitated for a moment, faltering at the idea that Cleo knew something about his body that he did not, but he listened, hands sliding from the mattress to his temples.

“That might be a stress headache, Cub. I get those too, with the throbbing feeling, right? Sometimes it’s so bad I think my brain’s going to melt out of my ears.”

“Noo,” Cub sounded pitiful, small, and Cleo was sure he felt similarly. “It’s the sculk, Cleo, it’s the sculk, it talks to me, it gets worse if I don’t do anything about it.”

“If you’re hearing something, you might be stressing yourself out and feeling worse because of it. There’s a lot that could be going on.”

“It’s the sculk.”

“It might not be.”

“It is.”

“Maybe,” Cleo conceded. She couldn’t deny the possibility entirely; she did not know. “But it might not be. Just like your skin.. easy to forget it’s there sometimes. It’s hard. You feel better when you distract yourself, throw yourself entirely into a different task, push the rest to the wayside. You stop being so stressed. You feel a little better. You think you have to keep doing that same thing, that’s the only way to make those bad feelings go away. I know it. I do it too. But I.. I’m worried it’s not good for me. I’m worried I can’t control myself so well anymore, and I really don’t like that. I don’t want to relearn how to regulate my emotions, but.. I hate to hurt you more.”

“You don’t hurt me.”

“I don’t think that’s true. Even if it is, I don’t want to reinforce all the bad things you believe about yourself right now, because I don’t think you’re half as bad as you wish you were. You weren’t born that way at least, no.”

“You don’t hurt me, Cleo.”

“You hurt me.”

Cub was quiet. Again his lip trembled, like he desperately wanted to speak but his teeth were clenched against the words, or maybe the word he refused to say.

“Cub.”

Cub did not answer.

“When you were angry with Scar, when you killed me so you could set that trap alone.. did you get your release? Did your headache go away while you made the trap, and after it was over?”

Immediately, Cub exploded.

“He’s in my way!” More air left his mouth than words, loose and disorganized, “I had to- the sculk- Cleo, he needed to understand, I had to make him understand, he wants to control me, he thinks he can fix me and he’s wrong! Whatever he sees in me is gone. I didn’t- I need to spread.”

“Did it make you feel any better to do that to him?” Cleo pushed, and Cub returned his hands to his temples.

“I needed. To do it. It was the sculk, Cleo, it was the sculk. I- It hates him.”

“You can’t solve your problems with Scar like this,” Cleo mumbled, hoping to steer him back, “You don’t want to hurt people for the sake of hurting them. You want to engineer games. You want adrenaline. Cub, if the sculk is in your head, which it might not be, do you really think it wants blood? Do you? Listen, I know it’s scary, I know we’ve cemented our ways of coping and combating boredom over all these years, but maybe there’s a better way. Maybe we can find a better way together. I want to try, but I need you with me. I need you.”

The following quiet was uncomfortable, but not unexpected. Cleo resisted the urge to fidget.

“Cleo.”

“Yeah, Cub.”

“I didn’t do all that stuff to Scar. It was the sculk. It wanted him. It was angry, it wanted him. I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.”

Cleo paused, taking this in, but couldn’t wait any longer when Cub was full-body shivering where he sat. “I believe you.”

“You don’t, you said it might not be the sculk but it was, it was the sculk, Cleo.”

“It’s okay, Cub. I believe you. I believe you. It was the sculk.”

Like his fervent anxiety was the only thing keeping him upright, Cub deflated to nearly half his size, at first hunched, then collapsing into Cleo’s lap, body shaken by tears. Cleo ran a hand across his back, once, twice, over a hundred times while he sobbed, but her eyes were elsewhere. Out across the stars, bright, brilliant, and utterly impossible to describe. She might have cried as well.

[kame-writes]

My Human!Alastor headcanons

Basically a bulletpointed list of all the major events in his human life, right up to his death and manifestation in Hell.

He was the result of his wealthy land owner Father having an affair with a waitress

His father didn't know about Alastor until Alastor was about 3yrs old, then he saw how much Alastor looked like him, and was white passing.

Not wanting to risk the shame of having his illicit affair with a woman of colour known, or him sleeping around as a widower, he took Alastor in as a Ward. Claiming the child was one of a friend who had passed.

Alastors mother was sworn to secrecy and brought into the house as a servant, so Alastors father could keep her close and ensure her silence. No one was to ever find out she was the mother.

Alastor being so young, believed the lie that his mother had died and his father took him in to look after him.

The secret was only revealed to Alastor when he was around 6yrs old. His father was away on business, as usual, and he got seriously ill. His mother stayed by his side and cried. When he got better she couldn't lie to him when he asked why a serving lady cared so much about him.

After that he spends as much time as he can with his mother in secret. As he gets older he tries to make her life as comfortable as possible with the status being a ward to a wealthy man could bring.

His mother got him his first Radio, and encouraged him to pursue that obsession, despite it not being a 'high status job' that was expected of him.

In his early twenties he came home to find his father beating his mother, having found out that she'd been the one his son had been spending so much time with.

Her clothes were torn, she was bleeding heavily, and Alastor saw red. He doesn't remember doing it, but blinked back to awareness with a bloody knife in his hands, and his father's body dead at his feet.

His mother helped him dispose of the body in the bayou.

With his father gone, family came to claim the estate and fortune. Alastor allowed them to pay him off with a large sum of money to not contest his right to any of it. It was enough for him to buy a house for him and his mother to live relatively comfortably.

This is also where he discovered Voodoo-Catholicism, a religion that his mother studied in secret. He often joined her for rituals and took a keen interest in their practices.

During prohabition he took up bootlegging for the local speakeasy, a place he felt completely at home with its lax laws, and lack of segregation. Here he also got close to the owner, Mimzy.

It was here he committed his second murder. A low life who was threatening the working girls and taking advantage of Mimzys lax attitude towards horrible men.

This was the first time he planned it out, and it awakened a part of him that he'd never gotten from hunting animals. He took satisfaction in picking out victims that he saw as problematic, and taking them out.

Mimzy discovered him covered in blood, and after the shock wore off, she agreed to provide an alibi if Alastor ever needed one, since he was only going after people who deserved it.

When the news started to take notice of disappearances, Alastor added a talk/news segment to his radio broardcast to get listeners opinions. He found the irony halarious, and him and Mimzy would privately laugh over the outlandish theories.

Having access to dead bodies, he started to experiment with substituting animal organs and parts for human one's in certain rituals. Including eating their organs. He quickly saw no difference in cannibalism to eating any other meat. He kept this from his mother, fearing her reaction.

When his mother became sick with an incurable illness, he started to get less focused on his work. Being more irritable than usual, and in desperation, he turned to the darker side of voodoo to try and find a cure, swearing that he would give anything he could to save his mother's life.

Something heard him, unknowingly entwining with his very soul.

It was not long after this that Alastor made the fatal mistake of getting caught disposing of a body by an unfortunate hunter. He was tracked down thanks to his shoes, which bootleggers commonly used to make animal prints instead of footprints to confuse the police.

He died never knowing if his mother survived or died of her illness.

When he manifested in hell, his shadow was sentient, and he possessed powers he'd only read about during his voodoo studies.

[fairykery]

The Vampire Diaries opinions people hate me for:

Forwood is actually a good ship and I wish it didn't have to go down like that, at the expense of Caroline's character.

I ship Klaroline; but Klaus was toxic. I could only ever see this ship becoming endgame if Klaus redeemed himself first.

Caroline had chemistry with everyone except Stefan.

Bamon had potential (and it was literally in the books). If they had come up with a "I had my humanity off" plotline it would have made the ship work🤷🏻‍♀️

Bonezo is a good ship and is clearly less toxic than Bamon; but it only happened to please racist dullena fans that complained about Bamon's romantic implications(even if it happened in the books)

Caroline, Katherine, Bonnie, & Stefan are the most interesting characters of TVD

Jeremy & Anna were cute IDK🤷🏻‍♀️

Matt did not deserve the hate. His feelings were valid. All his friends were killers and he was an abandoned, heartbroken boy, whose mom was a drunk and pedophile, and his only sister & family was killed by the boyfriend of his ex-girlfriend who he loved alot, just cause he decided he was bored. He remained loyal & brave to his friends and they didn't account for their murders and killings & stopped caring for the innocent.

Alaric was not a bad father and teacher. Even if he had his slip-ups he was actually an interesting & good character.

Damon is way too defended In this fandom. People should like the character and not defend the wrongs?! Just how many women has he compelled to sleep with him and to let him drink their blood? And what about what he did to Aaron whitmore? He slaughtered entire families of Innocents even while dating Elena. So all that "sHe mAkEs hiM bEtTeR" crap, is not valid. You can like Ian's acting and the smugness of his character, & like the character for those reasons, without defending the terrible acts of the character.

Delena was a horrible ship. The only reason it's popular is due to the shallow fact that people see Ian as more handsome than Paul. The ship only has good chemistry and looks. Beyond that, there is nothing.

Stefan is still the better man. (Fried humanity/off humanity Stefan don't count just as it goes for all the other vampires) Gaslighting writing through the other characters won't change that(Nice try, Julie P)🤷🏻‍♀️

Alaric and Jo were really cute together. I don't care. They made epic twins together.

Elena is overloved; but overhated at the same time. It's annoying. Just love the kind human girl that she used to be and hate the vicious, selfish girl she became, without hating her for breathing. That simple.

Klelijah(Katherine x Elijah) is not a good ship. Katherine loved stefan. She was only using Elijah to survive, and back then she only pitied him. Elijah also only was with her because of what he did to Tatia

Katherine did deserve better though, even if she did bad things. Making her the biggest/& ultimate devil and pretending there wasn't any good in her was incredibly misogynistic. Like Damon & Klaus did worse things and they get happy lives and good character ends? Like No! Horrible! Katherine's core was a scared little girl who wanted to live a normal human life while still being powerful and beautiful. She was chased for 500 years, had to see her entire family slaughtered, lost a baby because of misogynistic expectations, found her again, just to see her last family die again. Did she do horrible things? Yes; all to survive. But she also saved Jeremy, Damon, Stefan, encouraged Elena to be honest about what she felt for Damon even when she didn't have to.

Caroline did annoying things; but overall she was an interesting character. And she was way too smart and strong as a vampire. I loved seeing it.

Bonnie deserved so much more than the show gave her. I hope she gets her own show one day. A show about witches would be pretty lit.

Rebecca could have tried harder to be kinder and less evil. I get she had centuries of habits she needed to break but still. (Elena stabbing her in the back was still shit though)

Klaus was evil to his default and was an abuser to his family. I'm glad he changed/died for hope; but still I would have been nice if there were other factors to this action.

They shouldn't have thrown away the good of Elijah Mikalson. He didn't deserve that. The way they also tried to pull a Stefan on him.

Haylijah was a cute ship🤷🏻‍♀️

Esther wasn't wrong about her children being evil as vampires. And what she wanted to do with them was have them live as humans.

What the originals did to Marcel was fucked up

What the originals did to Davina was cruel

I wish we could have seen more of the witch that played "the hollow".

Glamorizing Hope's evil side is not "a flex". Again, like the character & actor art; but not the vicious actions.

Hosie should have been canon

That random new original sister was so unnecessary.

Kolvina is the most interesting ship of the entire TVDverse I wish there was more of them

All TVD ships were good I just find: Steroline, Delena, & Klamille to be cringe. Steroline only happened to compensate Forwood/& Klaroline and justify Delena. And Delena only happened because of looks and the love story was trash. Klamille was also a compensation ship to Klaroline so yeah, cringe.

TVD writing, lore, acting, cinematography,. directing is all a 10. The only thing that is trash is the ending and all the romantic entanglement the show had.

Warning: This isn't to start an agree to disagree party. This post is just so that those that agree with me can high-five with me. If you disagree, don't even bother commenting on this post. Everything is a matter of perception & perspective. I'm just sharing mine, while venting. By jumping on this post to fight with me you are immediately self-labeling yourself as entitled. Everyone has their own opinions bestie so don't even.