#when i say coughing up blood i mean coughing up blood and also biting everything in a 50 ft radius

[rillette]

u know that feeling when u think abt ur fav guy and then ur immediately like yeah. yeah i gotta crunch my phone up with my teeth

YOU GET MEEEEEEEE i feel this way literally all the time i cant think about my favs too hard or i'll start fucking biting chunks out of concrete

[theladycarpathia]

@hellcheeranniversaryweek

Day three - Hanahaki Chrissy’s with the wrong person. It’s killing her more than she realizes. 

The wet clump of daffodil petals almost chokes Chrissy as she gags over the toilet bowl. She coughs and coughs until she feels the mass begin to clear and she can spit out the remains of the yellow petals. 

That’s not good. Last time they were red chrysanthemums. If the petals are growing and changing, it means the affliction is getting worse. 

She slumps back against the bath, taking deep steady breaths. She never took breathing for granted before but it’s becoming more of a luxury these days. It’s getting hard to hide too - she’d been in class the other day when she’d felt another clump beginning to gather in her throat. She’d begged to visit the restroom and had only just made it in time to vomit blood-red petals down the sink. 

There’s a furious pounding at the door and Chrissy starts, grabbing desperately for the pull-chain. The toilet sends the petals vanishing down the drain in a whirlpool of water just in time as Andrew pushes in. 

“You’re supposed to knock!” Chrissy says furiously. Her mother had disabled the chain on the door a long time ago, under the guise of fearing that one of her children would get stuck in there. Chrissy had been old enough at thirteen to see through it for what it really was. 

Andrew stares at her, still slumped on the floor, with something like concern creasing his features. “Are you okay?” he asks hesitantly, whatever indignation he’d previously held lost. 

“Fine,” Chrissy says, rubbing at her face. She must be a hideous sight - pale and sweaty, the faint sheen of the recently sick. “I think something disagreed with me. Don’t eat meat from the cafeteria when you get to high school, okay?”

“Okay.” Andrews says and then offers her a hand up. She takes it, unsteadily getting to her feet. She knows from past experience that she needs to go lie down and drink nothing but water for a few hours. 

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Andrew asks, flicking his eyes over her. Chrissy tries to smile and hopes that she doesn’t have a petal stuck in her teeth. 

“Fine,” she lies and she can feel his eyes following her all the way down the corridor. 

She collapses onto her bed, after kicking her door shut. It also doesn’t lock - Laura doesn’t believe much in privacy in the same way she doesn’t believe in calories - but at least she has a door. 

She presses her face into the coolness of her pillow and breathes. She has homework and chores and she can’t do any of it right now. Her throat hurts, rubbed raw by thick petals and the occasional thorn and her chest aches from the heaving. She won’t be able to eat this evening but maybe that’s best. She feels as though Laura scrutinizes every bite, like she can see each one turning Chrissy into an unshapely, imperfect daughter. 

She fails at everything. Daughter. Sister. Girlfriend. 

She and Jason have been together since middle school. She doesn’t know how to be anything other than Jason Carver’s girlfriend. That’s all she’s known, and if she’d been anyone else, it would have been like fate and destiny laid out her life in front of her, each perfect step following the last. 

But she’s not perfect. The constant effort of trying to be was choking her. So she’d decided to do something about it. 

She hadn’t known. She’d gone to the woods at the back of the high school after practice and there he was. Eddie Munson. 

The next day she’d woken up to find a single petal on her pillow. That had been two months ago and each day, she spits up more and more. Every time she sees him - passing in the hall, sitting with Hellfire club in the cafeteria, when he waves at her during class - she feels another clump beginning to grow in her throat. 

Eddie Munson isn’t meant to be her destiny. Unfortunately, her heart says differently. 

There’s a sudden knock at the door and Chrissy jolts upright, heart pounding. “Come in!” she calls and Andrew pushes in.

“I made you some tea,” he says, holding out one of their mother’s delicate rose pattern cups. Chrissy takes it, fingers trembling. She must have looked awful for Andrew to do something like this. 

“Thank you,” she says and takes a sip, even though she knows that the liquid will scald her sore throat all the way down. 

It’s a recurring problem of her’s, proving to be a fatal flaw. She’ll put someone else’s feelings ahead of her own wellbeing. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Andrew asks, almost hesitant to leave. Chrissy swallows and tries to not wince at the pain.

“I’m okay,” she says, the lie as bitter as the tea. “I think I’ll just skip dinner and go to bed early. I’ll be alright tomorrow.”

But she knows that she won’t. There’s only two ways out of this. But if the love isn’t reciprocated, it will only kill her faster. She’s not sure if that will be kinder, the petals choking her before everyone knows the truth. 

She’s with the wrong person and it’s going to kill her.

I'm gonna go ahead and add this to 'never ending list of fics I mean to write'

Red Chrysanthemums - unrelenting love Daffodils - unrequited love

[latibvles]

can’t sleep it off.

yes i am aware i missed week five i’ll likely circle back and write it at the end of rewatch but!!! week six !! the prompt this week was running. heed the trigger warnings for this one: body horror, mainly (more overt than i’ve ever been on that regard), depictions of injury, and once again viv’s brain being very unkind to her. we lean into whump here, to an extent. i’ll amend my crimes with holiday prompts.

TAGLIST: @sparkedupsilver , @derry-rain , @elysian-crow , @archival-hogwash , @cetaitlaverite , @pastexistence , @saturnwisteria

—

The ground beneath her is hard, cold, and unforgiving.

Everything's cold — the air around her, the pale gray sky above her, but her body runs hot like a furnace each time her feet land against the ground. Her lungs ache and she doesn't know how long she's been running for. Just that she is, and that judging by the shouts behind her, she can't stop.

She has half a mind to toss her jacket to the wind, but that'd mean freezing to death later. Her body hurts despite the adrenaline, her tongue is dry and her eyes are stinging. To say she's never been afraid before would be a lie, but to say that she's used to this kind of panic settling in her bones would also be a lie.

Panic. She's never panicked before — not that she can remember. She's been afraid, been fearful, but never panicked.

As if she is the mouse caught in the trap, trembling in its own piss and shit as it waits to die, snagged on its tail by a rusted, metal bar.

She blinks back the tears blurring her vision, tries to shut out the sound of shouting behind her, knowing if she stops then she'll be shot or dragged away into an unknown she's too scared to face. She might throw up if she keeps running like this, but she doesn't care about that. Her body will endure because it has to, because there's no other option, because—

White-hot pain shoots up the length of her leg and a scream rips from her throat, hands gripping her thigh as she falls and hits the dirt with a thud. It blurs her vision, becoming black and spotty at the edges and she dares a look down.

She sees the blood first, pooling in the dying grass. Then the bone jutting from the jagged torn skin of her calf — the thick sheen of dark red clinging and clumping to the surface and— oh god, she might be sick.

She's spluttering and heavy, hiccuping on her own sobs as panic drags her down and she tries to prop herself up— to crawl away, to scramble, to force herself up onto one leg but to no avail.

Paralyzed in her panic, head whipping around wildly until they settle upon cold, dead, dark eyes a few feet from her — bullet-hole the size of an apple wedged between the brows of a woman she's flown with but cannot remember the name of, her blood serving as a halo around her head as she stares right through and finally bile rises in the other woman's throat, threatening to spill out.

A trapped, dumb little mouse. A dead little mouse.

She squeezes her eyes shut, unsure if the sob that wrenches from her is from the pain or panic or resignation that it's over— will be over soon enough.

People die the exact way they're born, helpless and terrified and unable to do a goddamn thing about it.

She coughs hard, swearing that her lungs are working their way up and out through her throat, body curling in on itself, hands clutching at her head and the healed over scab at the base of it and hopes this will be quick.

The steps get closer, louder, shouting in a language she doesn't understand and—

Vivian shoots up like a rocket, smacks her head on the bunk above her and bites her tongue to keep from swearing. She thinks she tastes blood, fist slamming against the mattress at the newfound pain. There's a wet cough somewhere in the room. When the throbbing in her head subsides enough, she reaches down towards her propped up leg, groping at the fabric and anticipating the feel of sticky blood and bone.

No such sensation. She shuts her eyes and takes in a shuddering breath. Her fingers immediately grope for the base of her skull to feel the healed over skin there, no longer scabbed nor bloody.

"Hey."

The voice makes her jump again, nearly whacking herself for a second time as her head snaps to the sound.

She can barely make out Bucky in the dark, only knowing that it's him because this is the place he's decided to shack up in for the time being — because she hasn't bitten his hand and he hasn't overstepped yet. So he sleeps in a chair by her bunk, because she can't be trusted to ask for help anymore, and this is the best way to keep her from falling again and making her ankle worse.

Or something like that.

He's looking at her now and she wants to squirm further into the bunk until her back is pressed against the wall and he can no longer see her. Her current position: laying flat on her back, leg propped up like this bunk is her coffin, doesn't allow for that.

"You okay?" His voice is a gruff whisper, thick with sleep, and Vivian's lips press into a line.

"Hit my head. S'fine." Her voice is more trembling than she means for it to be. Her limbs feel like jello, too weak to smack his hand away when it goes to press at her forehead.

Still tender. She flinches hard and turns her head. His fingers brush against a wet cheek and her body stiffens as he drags them across her skin for a moment before pulling his hand away.

"…you sure?"

"Uh-huh," she insists.

"What about your leg?"

Vivian swallows hard— stomaching venom, and bile, and a million things she could say in an attempt to bite his wrist and draw blood. Some days she's more reactive than others. With the panic ebbing away, she just feels exhausted and a little more resigned to his worrying— an old man in the end-stage of his life, chain-smoking cigarettes and waiting for his slow-beating heart to give out.

A dog getting ready to be put down in the backyard.

"What're you gonna do if it doesn't heal?" she asks, fisting the sheets, turning to look at him.

"That's not gonna happen." It's so immediate, reflexive, like he's been waiting to pull the trigger on that response for weeks now. Vivian's brows furrow, fisting the sheets.

"That's not what I asked."

"I'll carry you around if I have to. Piggyback or Princess style?"

"John."

A heavy silence settles over them, loud like the whistling winter wind outside. Her eyes have since adjusted to the dark; she can make out his eyes that flit along her figure, settling on her leg before dragging back up towards her eyes. She can make out the slight overgrown shape of his curls, how the width of him shields her from most other people in the room, when he's turned towards her like this and she can't help but think about how her hands know that hair, and her body knows the planes of his pressed against her.

Just like she knows that the Germans don't care that she can barely stand, hardly walk. They just don't like it when she leans on Gale during their sporadic middle-of-the-night headcounts. They'd rather her suffer the weight on her own, and that's probably the last thing she should be doing right now.

The wood creaks as Bucky leans forward to rest his chin on the thin excuse for a mattress, shutting his eyes for a moment and sighing before reopening them.

"Don't wanna think about that," he admits and she nods, swallowing hard, staring at the wood supports above her head.

"Me neither," she admits, swallowing hard to hide the way her chin wobbles a little. He doesn't say anything of that, just shifts to use his arms as a pillow.

She wishes there was something else to focus on. Because if she focuses on the fact that this is the first time he's said something like that out loud: that he doesn't want to talk about something, or think about it, then she has to think about all the things she still isn't saying. And then she's back to thinking about how terrified she actually is, and how she isn't saying that, because she'd rather die than admit to being afraid of anything, even like this.

What if she never walks again? What if her body never goes back to the way it used to be? What else would change it, scar it, bend it permanently without her wanting it to? Vivian reaches up to wipe her cheek again furiously, no longer caring to hide it in the dark, where only he can see her like this.

She doesn't know what it says about them, that they can only really see each other in the pitch black, and the worst part is now she has the time to think on it.

"It's gonna heal," Bucky says, reaching for her hand to squeeze it and saying nothing of the dampness there.

She's been trying to do better about not snapping her jaws at any hand on her. It's easier when it's fleeting touches like this. Squeeze, then let go. She chews on her lip for a moment, careful about biting too hard and making herself bleed again.

"Didn't think you could still be optimistic."

"I'm not," he mutters. "I just know it is."

"You a doctor?" Vivian asks sarcastically.

"I wish." He kisses his teeth. She raises a brow.

"Why?"

"Cause then I could've set the bone," he murmurs with a slight shrug. Vivian just nods, instead of arguing with it, looking back at her leg as he tries to get a read on her barely-visible face. She doesn't remember much of Lena setting her broken bone— just that they'd done it on the floor, that she'd bit down on a glove so hard she thought her teeth might crack and she'd shed a couple tears, contorting and wailing like a harpy. She doesn't remember if it was him holding her down or maybe another one of her girls, but the bruises on her shoulders were a small price to pay so she said nothing of them.

Always on the ground, staring up at something. Always needing to be pulled to your feet, seeking a crutch. Jesus fucking Christ Vivian, stand up for once.

That logical part of her brain reminds her that she can't. Can't stand, can't run, can't do much of anything besides lay here and think about all the things she can't do and hate herself for it, despite that sickeningly sweet earnestness that comes with every offer of help.

She doesn't find herself deserving of help from anybody, least of all him. And knowing why he so readily puts himself between her teeth doesn't make it any easier to stomach.

There is nothing admirable about her helplessness, nothing desirable to be found in all the things she can't do, and she'd understand it better if they were still at Thorpe Abbotts, and she was still funny or charming or kind. But she's not, and she doesn't think she could be, just like how she doesn't think that even if it does heal, that her body will ever be the same again.

There are some things, though, that Vivian wants to try. And if she doesn't ask now then she might never try and bring it up again in anything but hypotheticals.

"Bucky?" she asks, feeling small, half prodding to see if he's still awake. He lifts his head a little bit like a dog called to attention.

"Yeah?" Vivian feels heat creeping up her neck, a strange mix of humiliation at asking for this and endearment that he's so eager to help her. If she thinks on it too hard, she'll hide away from him entirely all over again. Hide away from everyone and growl when she's being stared at for too long.

"D'you think any of the other guys might have extra wood lying around? I wanna make a crutch or… maybe a splint. Or something." If I can't run then I at least want to walk. Or maybe even stand.

"I can try." Bucky mutters back, a quiet fire lit beneath him and if she didn't know any better she thinks he might get up and start knocking on doors now, snatching away unsuspecting prisoners' chairs and make her a perfect, polished, matching set of crutches.

"Thanks." She mutters, and he says nothing to that, probably because he doesn't think she needs to thank him at all.

[princeescaluswords]

How Many Times?

So, very recently, the fandom has come back around to Master Plan (2x12) once again, as it will until the end of time. Scott's decision to deceive Derek and his pack in order to save their lives while simultaneously deceiving Gerard in order to stop him from killing everyone (and becoming an alpha werewolf in the process) is one for which parts of the fandom will never forgive Scott. In consequence, they have described Scott alternatively as "manipulative," "self-absorbed," "full of himself," and most recently as "passive-aggressive." This novel approach has been explained as Scott disliking direct confrontation with others and so he works behind their backs for the greater good. (This tactic allows them to dislike Scott while acknowledging that he was the hero in the story).

The problem is that none of those descriptors are true. In fact, they're bullshit, and a very clear example of a fandom technique I've talked about before: Editing. This is where members of the fandom simply pretend certain scenes or parts of scenes didn't happen in order to justify their interpretation.

Because Scott did directly confront Derek and his pack on many different occasions during Season 2 in ways that were neither manipulative nor passive-aggressive. Don't believe me?

From Shape-Shifted (1x02):

Derek: Get in. Scott: Are you serious? You did that. That's your fault. Derek: I know that. Now get in the car and help me. Scott: No, I've got a better idea. I'm gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up.

Also from Shape-Shifted:

Derek: Everyone wants power. Scott: If we help you, then you have to stop. You can't just go around turning people into werewolves. Derek: I can if they're willing. Scott: Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?

From Ice Pick (1x03):

Scott: Two's not enough for Derek. I know he needs at least three. So who's next? Erica: Why does there have to be a next when we've already got you? Scott: Who's next?

Also from Ice Pick:

Scott: Boyd. I just wanna talk. Hey, come on, Boyd, please. Did Derek tell you everything? And I don't just mean going out of control on the full moons. I mean everything.

From Abomination (1x04):

Scott: Derek? We need to work together on this. Maybe even tell the Argents. Derek: You trust them? Scott: Nobody trusts anyone! That's the problem. While we're here, arguing about who's on what side, there's something scarier, stronger and faster than any of us, and it's killing people and we still don't even know anything about it.

From Venomous (2x05):

Scott: Uh, I can talk to Derek, maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove that it's not her.

That's six separate occasions in four episodes that Scott went directly to Derek or a member of Derek's pack with concerns about their behavior, warnings about danger, or pleas to work together, and I'm sure I could find others if I put more time into it. And every single time, Derek or a member of his pack responded with a refusal to even listen to Scott or actual outright violence, once which ended up with Scott having to seek medical treatment after coughing up blood.

How many times does Scott have to reach out to Derek and his pack before his decision to act on his own principles is justified? This question is mostly rhetorical, because I know, you know, and God knows that there's no upper limit to that number for parts of the fandom. Scott is not entitled to make necessary decisions for the common good. After all, he's not white.

I can say with confidence that if Scott was a white male character, he could have. After all, they don't like Scott for 'going behind' Derek's and Stiles's backs (even though there is no evidence he went behind Stiles's back and that Stiles didn't know of Scott's Master Plan), but it only applies to him. Derek is entitled to hide the very existence of the alpha from Scott in Season 1. Derek is entitled to bite Jackson, the white male character who blackmailed Scott and sold Scott out to the hunters, and not tell Scott, who had to figure it out for himself. Stiles, himself, is entitled to conceal the fact that the message luring Allison to the high school in Night School (1x07) was sent from Scott's mother's e-mail account as well as directly lying (it's on the screen!) to Scott about his plan to get to the bottom of it. None of these things make them dislike Derek or Stiles the way Scott's Season 2 deception makes them dislike him.

I know the fandom standard is that all interpretations are valid, but I think I'm justified in arguing that if an interpretation is inconsistent or relies on pretending certain scenes didn't happen, it has to be recategorized not as interpretation but as a reaction. Calling Scott 'manipulative' or 'passive aggressive' is not valid.

The key, of course, is Entitlement. Derek and Stiles are entitled to behave like that because of what they've gone through and that they are putatively acting for Scott's own good. This makes them someone for which parts of the fandom can understand and empathize with. For some reason, Scott is not entitled to behave like that even after what he's gone through and that he's acting for other's good. This, in turns, makes Scott unlikeable, as he is 'full of himself' and 'self-absorbed.'

BUT THAT REASON ISN'T RACISM.

[direwombat]

woe, the first wip wednesday of the 2024 be upon us

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton to share some wippy goodness today. here's some more katc interlude ii from gus' pov. please enjoy this VERY ROUGH draft (with brackets and everything!)

There, sitting in the chair beside Augustine’s bed, is none other than Joseph Seed. 

Augustine nearly doesn’t recognize him at first. Not without the sunglasses. They’re a common source of ridicule among his co-workers -- “What kind of asshole wears piss-colored glasses, anyway?” is a common refrain amongst the townspeople whenever the preacher is spotted outside the island where he built his Church. 

Once, back when Augustine was naive and new to town, he’d made the mistake of coming to Joseph’s defense. “Maybe they’re prescription,” he’d posited, believing it to be harmless speculation. “For migraines or something.” 

He’d never been more quickly ostracized in his life. 

It’d taken weeks to get back into his fellow rangers’ good graces, and even then it was only because Ben had convinced them to give him a second chance. “C’mon, he’s new. Kid didn’t know any better.” 

Augustine learned to keep his mouth shut when it came to Joseph Seed and his family. If it’s taboo to say anything nice about the man, then he’d rather not say anything about him at all. 

Hastily, Augustine lifts himself into a seated position and combs his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself look more presentable. “Mister Seed,” he starts, before realizing he has no idea what the appropriate honorific is. “Uh…Pastor Seed?”

“Father is fine,” he smiles. The corners of those bright blue eyes crinkle warmly. 

“Father Seed,” Augustine corrects, but the way Joseph lips thin like he’s biting back a laugh tells him he still didn’t get it quite right. Anxiety coils tightly in his gut -- Already fucked it up -- but he swallows around the lump in his throat, pushing it down. “I ain’t mean for this to sound  rude or ungrateful, but,” he hesitates a moment, warily eying the man in the doorway. Broad shouldered and donning an army field jacket, the man has a hardened and calculating look in his eyes; one that’s very similar to the look Sybille has whenever he drags her out to meet new people. He’s being sized up. This man is judging his actions, weighing his worth, and the rhythmic beeping on the heart monitor quickens at the idea that he may find Augustine wanting. His attention returns to Joseph’s curious gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“My brother, Jacob,” he motions to the man in the doorway, “told me about what happened to you last night. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

Although Augustine’s pulse slows to its normal rhythm, blood rushes to his cheeks. “Oh,” he says dumbly. “I -- uh…” His hands clasp together and he bashfully averts his eyes to stare at his worrying fingers instead. “I’m okay. Been better, but…I’m alright.”

“That’s excellent to hear,” Joseph says gently.  

Augustine nods and a long stretch of unbearably heavy silence settles over them. He chews on the inside of his cheek until the bitter metallic tang of blood bursts on his tongue, wracking his brain for a topic of conversation, but he comes up empty. “I’m sorry,” he says after an awkward cough. “I ain’t much of a conversationalist and I’m…Well, I wasn’t…”

“You were expecting someone else,” Joseph nods. [insert something about the compassion and understanding and warmth in his voice, rather than the anger and hostility augustine anticipates]

A lame, “Yeah,” is all Augustine can muster in response. His fingers fidget nervously in his lap. “You, uh…You ain’t happen to know if my sister’s here, do you? I gave Ben my phone so he could call her, but.. Um…” he trails off again. Whatever drug they’ve been using to sedate him and numb the pain has also stolen the second half of most of his thoughts as well. 

Joseph sighs heavily and his brows knit together. He removes his glasses, neatly folding the arms and tucking them into the breast pocket of his vest. A warm hand comes to rest on top of Augustine’s clasped ones. 

Augustine knows what that gesture means. It’s what Mama did when she sat him down to tell him that she had cancer and what the kind paramedic did when she told him she was sorry for his loss after he’d found both Mama and Daddy dead in the living room. It’s the kind of comforting gesture one gives before delivering bad news or condolences. Yet as Joseph’s long, spindly fingers wrap around his own, the warmth, accompanied by a sympathetic squeeze manages to keep the knot of anxiety in his gut from growing larger. 

“The phone lines have gone down,” Joseph murmurs. “I’m afraid we haven’t been able to get through to her yet.”

Augustine’s eyes go wide. “The phone lines are down?” he repeats. The County is no stranger to strong winds ripping through the valley, but last he checked the forecast hadn’t predicted anything strong enough to knock out the phones. “What happened?”

taglist: @marivenah, @florbelles, @statichvm, @fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook, @harmonyowl, @ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa, @cassietrn, @poetikat, @confidentandgood, @strafethesesinners, @trench-rot, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies, @josephslittledeputy, @aceghosts, @adelaidedrubman, @madparadoxum, @voidika, @strangefable, and anyone else wanting to share a piece of their wips!

[hannaday81]

My Stray Kids Facfic Recs

Lee Minho + Hwuang Hyunjin = Hyunho

bagelboy

Baby, You’re Kinda Driving Me Crazy (I’m Not One to Need Saving)  *Finished

There are some things everyone just knows. The sky is blue. The earth is round. There are 365 days in a year. Hyunjin hates Minho. Minho hates Hyunjin.(And they are intent on keeping it that way.) (Turns out, the universe has other plans.)

You'll Feel it Kicking in Soon (Are You Falling in Love?)  -NEW

Although Hyunjin prides himself in being able to read people from the inside out, there are moments when his brain somehow fails to put the puzzle pieces together in a way that makes sense. Like right now.“You’ll deny it until the day you die,” she says.“Deny what?"“That something changed,” she replies. “When you met him.”

ChansOtherRoom (MB1000)

The Best Mistake  *Finished 

And it was dried (thankfully.) But it still meant that blood was flaking off of the omega for whatever reason. Which could only mean that he had had an open wound at some point during the night. Which- “Holy shit.” Which of course made panic course through him once again. Because why would he have a wound on his neck? Why would- “It looks like a bite mark.” Minho swallowing as he finally moved to sit up. “It looks like a…” But once the alpha’s upper half was fully raised and head no longer buried into the pillows and blankets, Hyunjin’s eyes zeroed on Minho’s neck as well. Before widening at what the omega saw and… “M-Minho…” And there was dried blood coating the alpha’s neck as well. With teeth indents underneath that… “What the fuck happened last night?” That looked like a mating bite. - OR - Hyunjin ends up accidentally mated to the one person he absolutely cannot stand.

exhale_now

need a second to breathe  *Finished -NEW

“Why haven’t you kissed me?” Hyunjin asked again as he took another step into the kitchen. “You’ve… you’ve kissed everyone else in our friend group. Why not me?” Or, the casual questions that Hyunjin asks at a party changes everything for him and Minho. Someone's going to get hurt - spoiler, it isn't Hyunjin. But it's okay - it's totally fine and Minho isn't breaking his own heart by hooking up with someone he most definitely got over his crush on ages ago. Right?

fvckingangelic (recursiveloop)

high definition  *Finished

“Have you ever considered collaborating with another streamer?—Uh, never thought about it.”It would break the first rule of this whole thing—revealing his identity. Even if it’s to someone in the same boat as him, someone who likely doesn’t want their face getting leaked any more than he does, it’s still a risk, one Minho doesn’t quite want to take.The chat fills with agreements that he definitely should, even throwing out suggestions.Then someone suggests Honeyjin and the rest latch on.-Or, it's hard to get over your ex when you're fucking the guy that looks just like him.

hyunknow

I loved you then (i'll love you now) *Finished

"Hypothetically speaking," Minho asks, "Say you're immortal and you keep seeing your ex-boyfriend from a hundred years ago, what would you think?" "I'd assume that my ex was also somehow immortal."Or.5 times Minho sees Hyunjin after a hundred years and 1 time he talks to him.

Love Let Me Breathe, Love Let You Remember  *Finished 

"Six months." Hyunjin pleads, his hands trembling "Give us six months for Minho to remember me and if I'm still coughing up flowers by then," he swallows thickly and sets his jaw in determination "if he doesn't love me back in six months then we can discuss our options."orMinho loses his memory in a car accident and Hyunjin is determined to regain his love despite the flowers growing in his lungs.

Still Calling For You *Oneshot

Hyunjin makes the mistake of getting a little too drunk at his friend's engagement party.

sofwrites

all these little things  *Oneshot

Something has been different lately; and Minho has really been trying to figure out exactly what it is. How come he misses Hyunjin the second he leaves for another dorm, one without a bedroom for them to share daily? Why does he find himself at a loss for words more often than not in Hyunjin's presence, when he's never been this tongue-tied before? And for what reason does he find himself spending more time alone with Hyunjin now, when he's really had all the chances in the world for years?or; Minho falls in love without really noticing. The object of his affection certainly does, on the other hand.

fingers crossed that you don't scar me for life, that you don't kill the stars in my eyes, 'cause i really, really want you and i-- *Finished  Hyunjin wants to snort at the idiocy of it all - the premise, the set-up, the fact that they’re all here and intending to participate - but thankfully, he refrains. Instead, he’s reminded of how tonight will be the last night he and Changbin can spend together in almost a month, because after this they will be staying in separate rooms while they all date around for five days.After that, there’s going to be some kind of ceremony where they get paired up with someone who isn’t their own partner, and proceed to live with this essential stranger for three weeks before having to make the choice of whether they want to pursue something with the stranger, whether they want to return to their original partner and marry them, or whether both relationships will end and Hyunjin will go home by himself to start all over again.* * *“I’m not sure who the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with is yet,” Hyunjin declares, watching Minho’s eyebrows climb higher in surprise, “but I’m pretty sure about the next few weeks.”

he didn't mean to seduce him (the first time)  *Oneshot

Hyunjin didn’t mean to seduce Minho the first time. He swears.

if love is blind, and i love you, then why bother with rose-tinted glasses?  *Finished

In which Hwang Hyunjin and a bunch of strangers are thrown head-first into the latest reality dating show where they're supposed to a) find and b) get engaged to the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. The twist? The participants have no idea what their dates look like.or; "If someone had told me before this that I would be saying what I am now, I don’t think I would have believed them. I told you you changed me. Within minutes, as if it were that easy."

love is a masterpiece, but you never cared for art, did you *Finished 

"Do you understand? There are other people, there are things I've always known and have been comfortable with, and then, Hwang Hyunjin... Then there's you."

unfinished business: in my mind you're always mine  *Finished

“So…,” Hyunjin eventually murmurs, stealing Minho’s attention in a heartbeat. “At what point do we tell them that we dated for two years?”“After cashing the check,” Minho replies.“Deal,” Hyunjin says quietly.Minho shivers. He never fully understood the meaning of making deals with the Devil before this exact moment.

want nothin' on me but you  *Oneshot 

“Good,” Hyunjin tells him, gentle words and touches all over Minho’s body as it trembles with the pleasure coursing through him. “There we go. My silly alpha. You gotta breathe for me.”“I’m trying,” Minho mumbles, or something like it, and sighs in relief when Hyunjin presses a heavy kiss to his lips so Minho doesn’t have to remember his words anymore.

want you (to want me again)  *Oneshot

“I’m not nervous,” he responds instead over his roommate’s coughing. “I can’t remember the last time I was nervous. Hopefully it’ll either go well or straight to hell, as long as it’s entertaining. If this guy turns out to be a boring ass prick, I might leave before dinner even arrives.”“Minho, he’s not a boring ass prick. Do you think I would set you up with a boring ass prick?”

what's that saying about keeping friends close but enemies closer? (asking for a... friend)  *Oneshot

“Look which doorstep you showed up on,” Minho mutters, hesitantly crouching to get a better look at the semi-familiar face that has sneered at him so many times before. It isn't right now. “This is a first. I know you're obsessed with me, bug, but bothering me when I’m literally minding my own business is another level even for you.”It seems Jiniret hasn't lost consciousness completely, even though he sags against the wall. There’s a small huff from his dry lips and flicker of his closed eyes, and then nothing, as if Minho imagined it.“Close,” Jiniret breathes, as if speaking is an effort and enunciating his syllables almost impossible. “You're close. ‘Couldn’t… couldn’t make it anywhere else.”

strayfever

Venomous Love ~hyunho  -NEW

It's the typical Enemies to Lovers story, flavored by yours truly.Raised in the same neighborhood and social circle, Minho and Hyunjin know each other far too well. Both families are well-known chaebols with deep roots in the South Korean economy. Their successes are crucial to the country.Being the only sons and heirs of multibillion-dollar companies, they are raised to hate the Lees or the Hwangs. Whenever they cross paths, they take every opportunity to humiliate or destroy the other. This ends most of the time in a fight because the only way they feel like winning.. is by using their own strength. Something money can't control.Lee and Hwang are obsessed to get under each other's skin, making them blind to see what is fueling the said obsession.Lee is 27 and Hwang 26.

stupdme

CHANGE OF PLANS 

Cuando Minho tiene una nueva víctima en la mira, Hyunjin se propone evitar a toda costa que su mejor amiga caiga en las garras de aquel idiota. Frustrar el plan de Minho, ¿Qué tan difícil puede ser? Considerando que el plan que quieres arruinar es el incorrecto, imposible. ━ Cambio de planes, ella ya no me interesa, lo quiero a él 

suhmthingoriginal

Elementary  *Finished -NEW

The last people Hyunjin expected to see on his unfortunate preheat outing was his student and his student’s hot alpha father

yeolinski

Picture Perfect  *Oneshot

hyune: I legit queued for the toilet for 15 minutes, just so I could take a dick pic on the plane for you Self: why didn’t you take it next to your window, with the view of the clouds? Self: friendly advice, for the future Self: Could’ve been much more romantic hyune: I tried to, but the old lady next to me was eyeing me after the first two attempts. I think she even tried to rat me off to the stewardess as a pervert. hyune: Some people just don't understand modern romanceor, the one where a single dick pic rocked Minho's world.

[angels-whump]

I started this blog and then immediately died but hey here's that vampire drabble finally. Also @sleepyiswhumping wanted me to tag them so tadaa!

Silas had been coughing all night. All he wanted was to close his eyes and lay down, but the poor human couldn't go ten minutes without his throat constricting or having to sniffle uncomfortably; blowing his nose hardly seemed to help. Only getting a few hours of sleep each night was making his head hurt and his body feels sluggish, it was miserable.

The house staff were taking care of him well enough. The thralls had been ordered to watch and help him get better, regularly offering him cough medicine and water. It should be all SIlas needed. Combined with the master refusing to drink from him during his recovery, theoretically he should be all better by now.

Except that he wasn't. If anything, his illness had gotten worse, fever never allowing him to get comfortable in or out of blankets, arms and legs weak as if he had just been released from the vampire's fangs. It had been over a week, his master had to be starving by now. Silas had seen the human they had brought in from the village one evening when he had been wandering around restlessly. Rage flooded him--or master shouldn't have to be drinking from some random common filth! How could he forgo Silas like that, his ever-faithful consort?!

Because Silas wasn't any good anymore. The rage washed away to guilt, a stabbing ache settling in his heart. What he could he do? If this kept up, his master was going to have to get rid of him! Silas was useless, a leech, living in the mansion and eating food the master had bought for him, only to not be able to serve in return. He was a terrible consort, he'd be glad to die if he couldn't make Severin happy.

That didn't mean he wanted to. He loved his life here, even if the bite of powerful jaws always made him gasp and tense up, even if Severin never spared much of a glance for him outside of feeding times, he had been given more than enough to make him comfortable. He loved serving the master, it meant he was using his life for something, and he had been kinder than anyone Silas had met. If the master got rid of him, then another consort would come take his place, and the mere thought of that happening was enough to light up that violent flame again. Severin was his master.

Silas knew it wouldn't make a difference to the vampire either way. Eventually he would have to move on when Silas died, but he was content with old age. All he wanted was to not be a disappointment.

The look in the master's eyes was cold. Irritated. It was over now, Silas had failed him. He was hungry and needed to find other resources and now that he was asking how Silas' recovery was going the human would have to tell the truth. He'd never let his master drink from a contaminated blood bag.

Lip trembling, Silas could feel the tears welling up and that guilt crushing his heart in its iron grip. He sniffled, then flinched; that was disgusting. "I-I'm sorry." His face was hot as he stood before the master's chair, fiddling with his fingers. "I-I'm-" with a whimper, the tears started to spill. Silas' breath was short, he could hardly speak. "I'm no good sir, I'm- I'm still sick and gross-" as if on cue, he erupts into a coughing fit that only makes the pounding in his head worse. Silas sinks to his knees, trying his best to cover his face. Vampires didn't get sick, but he still shouldn't be in Severin--master's presence like this. It was rude, at the very least. If he wasn't such a kind man, the vampire should have him beaten.

Between sobbing gasps and coughs, Silas could hardly breathe. Everything hurt. Everything shook. Eventually, after a couple wheezes, he managed to continue. The vampire must be utterly disgusted with him, Silas ought to just leave and save him the trouble. "You- You should dispose of me Se- sir, I haven't been useful, I'm so sorry!" Humans weren't allowed to say their vampire's names, names had power. Even now, he thought miserably, I'm breaking the rules. I'm completely worthless.

Silas decided to shut up then. The vampire didn't need to be told what to do, they were smarter than Silas would ever be. So he knelt on the floor, arms curled into his chest trying not to sob too hard, awaiting the master's verdict.

Severin sighed. One hand came up to rub the bridge of his nose wearily. There is something wrong with you, he thought. The devotion didn't escape his notice. As disturbing as it was, it was almost touching. Nonsense. A human? Get a hold of yourself.

In one fluid motion, he was crouched down by Silas, putting firm hands on the human's back and bicep. "Don't strain yourself, you need to go rest." For the vampire, it hardly took any strength to coax him up and let him lean on Severin as he guided the man back to his room. "There's no need to stress yourself over it, that certainly isn't helping."

"S-Sir..."

"Not another word about it," he commanded, and the human obediently shut his mouth. "It was negligence on my part, I know the thralls can be empty headed. From now on I'll take care of you myself."

Silas' eyes widened. Severing pretended not to notice, opening the door to his chamber and ushering him into bed. He looked as though he wanted to speak, but seemed to remember his orders and stayed quiet. "Wait right here. I'll send a servant to town for better medicine and get you some soup."

"W-wait! Sir!"

The vampire turned with a dangerous stare. Perhaps it wasn't as harsh as usual or maybe Silas was just delirious. Yes, that had to be it. In his delirium, the human didn't shy away. "Why? You shouldn't be wasting resources on me..." The way the man's eyes dropped to where his fists clenched the quilt and bit his own lip almost made Severin feel bad for him. Almost.

"You're not getting away from me that easily little blood bag."

A human is content with being a blood bag for their vampire. Maybe they are nothing but an object, maybe they get possessive of their vampire knowing they don’t feel the same, but the point is they’re useful! So the human is content. And every now and then the vampire praises them and the human’s heart soars. They are utterly devoted (if they don’t have this, they’re better off dead).

And then one day the human gets sick. It won’t go away soon enough to be fed on again and the vampire comes to them for food and the human break into tears between coughs because they’re so sorry, their vampire will probably have to dispose of them now. Even if they don’t, the human isn’t being useful so they’re a leech.

The vampire sighs. There is something wrong with you, they think, if they haven’t noticed already. They drop down to their knees where the human is sniffling before them, demand they get up (helping them without thinking about it) and send the human to bed. Human gets doted on and cared for even if the vampire has to feed them themself.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Phantom bride event-Player is their last option Pt. 3

Characters: Jade Leech, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spades

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, imprisonment, kidnapping, violence, murder, religion, fighting, marriage

Well well well, would you look at that?

Our usually high and mighty sir “nothing-can-shake-me-up” is shaken up!

What a rare sight to see

If it were just you being there bad enough but now you are also the last option

Which means that you are in even greater danger!!!

It's angwy eel time

Oh yes, I call him angwy because what is he supposed to do? The worst that can happen is him biting the air

Ok to be honest one guard was freaked out by the sound of his teeth snapping shut (you know, that one) and put a piece of cake in his face

God he looks pitiful...

But *ahem* you stand in front of the bride and all he can think about is how defenseless you and your lips are

No matter if you are considered a God, a almighty sorcerer or something else depending on the place, that is going to kill you!!!

Jade just wants to protect you ;_;

Depending on whom you ask (Jade or the rest of any world) but “protecting you” has a different meaning

For the rest of the world: making sure that you are safe

For Jade: locking them up in a house under the sea without any contact to outsiders

But oh well, he has experience taking care of others because of his job in Azuls *cough* shady businesses so yeah... you will live at least a comfortable life... with a lot of manipulation....

He is so proud at you.... whilst crying of disappointment in the Headmage

He trusted him!

This couldn't go unpunished! After he was free he will chop his head off as if he was the servant of a different Queen!

Burn the sinners!!! This was heresy!!!

Easy Lilia, your blood pressure! You are not as young as you once were even if you don't look your age!!!

But back to the subject!

Lilia is oddly silent

I mean, yes, he is heartbroken that he is not the one you are proposing to

But at the same time, go betray dead lady! “YOU GO YOUR HOLINESS!!!!” - Lilia Vanrouge, a very old person

At the same time he is worried to bits

Lilia trained all his life so that he could protect and safe you

And now you are saving him!

Did he just die from high blood pressure or why is he seeing you and himself on a white horse, in wedding attire, riding into the sunset...

And then you... you have to duke it out with a ghost in the parking lot...

Ok jokes aside, not in the parking lot but you had to show them all that yes, you were able to throw hands if enough adrenaline was in your system

Ah, maybe he will order that banana and mango cake Deuce is just munching on because a guard shoved that into his mouth to shut his screaming up....

Poor poor Deuce...

He was already heartbroken enough...

AND NOW YOU ARE ALSO IN DANGER!!!!

Nu-uh! Not under his watch

He had already been screaming because he wasn't the one you were proposing to (which earned him mouthful after mouthful of cake)

And what was he supposed go do now??! Watching you being in danger of dying??!

My friend just blue screens

As if some sort of treat in his head snapped he suddenly snaps his mouth closed

For a entire minute (scary is all I can say)

The guard beside him is already checking if he is just about to join their ranks

But no. Congrats Deuce, you live another day to witness this madness

He is in truth planning what to do after all of this with you

He has been taking care of a lot of things to help his mother so you surely wouldn't mind if he also did that with you, right?

Even though you are looked into a house with only one door and iron bars in front of the windows in the middle of nowhere, right?

You don't mind being completely dependant on him, right??!

But hey, you got a loving partner... and that is everything positive I can say about his plan.... Good luck! Do I get invited to your wedding when that happens?

[weministertomonsters]

Mershark (Seth) x human female reader

The last thing he sees before he succumbs to his injuries is a small, slender figure approaching him with a stumbling gait.

A human.

He curls his lips back in an attempt to growl but can only manage a whimper. He's so tired and everything hurts. His visions goes black.

Three months later:

"Absolutely not," he says crisply.

"Seth-" his mother begins to say, but you're already sliding off your chair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. It was a mistake, honest." You stammer. "I didn't know."

"You planned this?" Seth calmly asks his mother, who turns a very guilty shade of red. "You knew who she was and you still brought her here."

He turns to you and demands, "How much did she pay you to come?"

"I didn't!" His mother replies.

Seth doesn't reply but the gills on his neck flare prominently as he clenches his jaw and looks away.

So awkward, so awkward! So blood fucking awkward! You chant in your head.

"Honey, you've driven everyone else away. This town isn't the biggest and I've gone through just about every person looking for a job, absolutely no one is willing to work here anymore."

"Let it stay that way," he says coldly. "I don't need help. Especially hers."

"Your fucking legs don't work!" His father suddenly yells and you flinch.

Seth bares his teeth. "As if I don't know, Dad."

His father bites down on his fist and then gets off the couch and storms out of the livingroom. Now you're left with Seth and his mother, both staring at you with different expressions. Seth looks like he wants to murder you while his mother looks like she's hoping you can do something about this.

You know she's hoping that you can be her son's helper but you really can't. He's become partially paralyzed and it's all your fault. Everyone talked about it for months. He shouldn't have been on the road but you also shouldn't have been driving as fast as you were.

For weeks you had nightmares about it. How you were driving far too fast in a rainstorm, how your headlights beamed against his wet horrified face and the way his body flipped and twisted over the top of your car after you hit him. Every night, you've relived that moment. You can hardly fathom what his dreams have been about since then.

You take a step towards the door but his mother grabs your wrist and holds on to it like she's drowing.

"Please. We've tried everyone. No one stays longer than a few days. I know what happened between the two of you was very unfortunate..."

Seth scoffs so loudly in the background that he begins to cough. His mother glances at him and turns back to you, lowering her voice.

"Maybe you can help him."

"But I caused this," you protest quietly. "I think I've done enough."

"No," she says desperately. "You owe him, don't you see that? You owe it to him."

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep, grounding breath.

She's right, oh god, she's right.

"I'll try," you say, opening your eyes.

"Oh, you sweet girl!" She squeezes you in a warm hug and then steps back. "Try talking to him. He needs it."

She literally flees from the livingroom and you turn, rather wide-eyed, to face your worst fear.

"They're cowards, both my parents," he snorts.

"It's hard for them too," you say cautiously. "Everything is just as different for them."

"Thanks to you," he smirks, showcasing canines slightly more prominent than the rest of his teeth.

You flinch and absently rub your knee, which has begun to ache. His eyes flicker to your leg.

"You know, I never heard about what happened to you."

"Um, it's an old injury. It happened way before..."

"Of course the one in the car gets out unscathed," he mutters, flicking his gaze up to the ceiling.

His eyes are a sort of silver grey no human can possess. His pupils when faced with direct sunlight, shrink into slits.

Your mouth goes dry.

"So it's true then? You're a merman?"

"Yep. Which means I'm totally useless now." He shifts in the wheelchair, pulling a pillow out from behind his back and flinging it to the floor.

"This thing is fucking uncomfortable. Do you know how much it sucks to sit for so long?" He fixes you with a piercing stare. "No, I guess you don't."

"I know I'm not the most qualified to say this..." You pick up the pillow and give it a little dusting before you put it on the couch. "And you can hate me all you want but you have to forgive yourself. Accidents happen, it's not like you decided to walk onto the road."

Seth smiles sardonically. "I kind of did though."

"You'd just hit your head on a rock. You were disoriented," you remind him.

"Because I tried swimming in dangerous weather," he snorts. "A fucking idiotic thing to do."

"Seth-" You stride forward. "Stop. We can't turn back time."

"I bet you wish you could," he says softly, without malice this time. "I know I do."

He looks up at you. His soft baby face is at odds with his muscular, tattooed arms. His black t-shirt and slacks hide the rest of him from view. For a second, you wonder what his legs look like, if they're all scarred. You'd been panicking back then, grasping his hand and begging him to stay alive. He looked like a wreck.

For a second, you want to hug him. But maybe it'll only make him hate you more. Instead, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out a slightly smushed chocolate bar.

"Your mom didn't pay me to come here, just to be clear. She made it seem like her child was young though, so I brought this as a present. A kind of bribe to make them like me more."

Seth jerks his head to the side. For several moments his shoulders shake with silent laughter. When he turns back to you, his eerie eyes have a glint of amusement in them.

"I don't eat human food, so no thanks. But that's hilarious. You can stay... For now."

"Really?" You blurt out.

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not forgiving you or anything, don't start celebrating. But my mom is right. I need help and she can't stay home all day to take care of my sorry ass. You'll probably hate being my helper but I'll try not to mess with you too much."

"Okay, I can handle that," you nod and tuck your hands behind your back. "Thanks for giving me a chance."

"I don't think I have much of a choice," he murmurs, looking away. "Tell my parents you're staying."

You go to do just that, leaving him staring out the window with a rather wistful expression. You glanced at the window earlier, so you know there's a sparkling pool just outside.

[tears0fsatan]

Another OM request I would like you to do!~ your writing is so good smh.

Anyway since your rules say you either can or can't write AMAB or AFAB Chara or reader can I request sub AFAB cock/cumslut bros x Dom AMAB Reader?

𖥻 characters... afab!lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor x m!reader [separate]

𖥻 genre... nsfw hcs + drabbles

𖥻 warnings... nsfw!! minors, ageless blogs and fem aligned will be blocked, mean dom amab!reader, genderbent demon brothers, dumbification, dacryphilia [crying], drooling, biting, scratching, mentions of blood!! [from the biting&scratching], overstimulation [lucifer], .... squirting- [lucifer], dirty talking!, degradation, begging [a bit for all but mainly leviathan], public sex lolol [belphegor is a freak luv that 4 her], mentions of tummy bulge :flushed: [belphegor]

𖥻 a.n... it's certainly nice to see that the cockslut agenda is popular! LMAO thank u so much darling!! :D thank u for reading my rules b4 rqing [COUGH COUGH MINORS COUGH COUGH] n thank u for coming backヾ๑ˊᵕˋ๑◞♡ hope this was to ur liking!!!!

… ♥︎ ?! lucifer

bites her lip to the point she bleeds, anything to hold onto the last bit of pride left

but the more undone she becomes, the more she lets go

to the point where the only thing on her mind is you

she's loud, so fucking loud

has ripped the sheets from how hard she was gripping onto them

she has the lewdest look on her face when you overstim her :((

her eyes are squeezed shut, rosy blush painting her cheeks and ears, lips bitten raw tucked in between her teeth, head tipped back to show off the bruises that litter her neck

sometimes, if you've pushed her far enough, her tongue lolls out of her mouth, giving her the most indecent fucked out look you've seen on anyone

she can't even look at you because she's so embarrassed of how you've reduced her to a whimpering mess

i'd say she loves being overstimed... if you're lucky you can get her to squirt after enough orgasms

it gets her so flustered because she never thought someone would get her to do that

— the avatar of pride was a mess, eyes glossy, face covered in the remnants of her tears, blush heavy across her cheeks, incoherent mumbles pouring out of her mouth.

lucifer called out your name like a prayer, begging you to go slower, go faster, to stop, to go harder. she was saying everything all at once, like she had nothing on her mind except you.

it was a rare sight to see— lucifer all dumb and drooling on your cock, and she loves to be reminded of it. her eyes dodge yours, not letting you see just how much of a cockslut you'd made her into.

… ♥︎ ?! mammon

a crier for sure.

also a drooler!

her lips are parted in an 'o' shape, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline, her eyes are half lidded, looking at you with pure desire

her reactions and the way she takes everything you give her so sweetly is

she's just so erotic and lewd and she's so unaware of it????

when she's drunk off your cock she's a lot needier than normal (and that says a lot)

will latch her mouth on any part of you she can reach

cries harder if she can't touch you

sobs "can't" over and over with the sweetest look on her face that just makes you want to tease her more

she actually creams around your cock when you call her your cumslut <3

there's something so degrading and embarrassing about it that she's just so addicted to

— the avatar of greed sobbed, fat tear droplets rolling down her tanned skin. her lips were swollen and wet with spit, giving them a pretty sheen that made them look all the more kissable.

mammon cries when you hit her sweet spot again, her back arching into your chest, tits pressed right against yours. you coo at her hands pawing at your chest, mumbling incoherently about how she can't take it anymore.

"i'll make you take it, baby." you lick at the tears that fall out of the corners of her eyes, peppering kisses all over her face until you reach her lips, all while you keep your hips at an angle that hit her sweet spot every time.

… ♥︎ ?! leviathan

the flush on her face never seems to die down

the type that can only whine and whimper in response

the only words that come out of her mouth are 'i'm yours' and your name

everything else is muddled, words mixed together and slurred, cut off by her own whines

so pliable and will let you use her however you want :((

she has a huge fucking breeding kink

loves the way her tummy bulges when you spill your load in her, orgasm and orgasm after another

she'll beg you to pump her full of your seed, with glossy eyes and tears ready to fall down her face if you were to deny her of what she wanted

she'll use her tail to keep you inside her as you cum into her for the third time, making sure none of your seed spills out

it's so indecent and filthy and it doesn't help her 'disgusting otaku' status but she doesn't care because it feels so good

her head tips back and her forked tongue lolls out the side of her mouth

— the avatar of envy clutched at every surface she could with all the strength she could muster. her hips grind back onto yours, almost like she's trying to milk you till you were dry.

leviathan sobs when she feels your load fill her up again. she feels so full and stuffed, it's humiliating to be like this but because it's your cum it doesn't seem to bother her that much.

she begs you to fill her up more, like a broken record player on loop, mumbling what sounds like "'m your cumslut, more please, please, please!" though it's hard to decipher through her tears.

… ♥︎ ?! satan

another drooler :((

also another one who bites her lip til she bleeds

something about control or whatever

i'd like to think she's someone who likes to leave marks, i guess to show you how good you make her feel

instead of gripping the sheets, she'll claw your back until she draws blood

if you're close enough, she'd bite down on your neck to silence herself

rather than whining and whimpering, i feel like she'd growl and grunt

she's so aggressive usually, so when she gets so pliant and dumb you can't help but feel the smugness that floods your body

she lets you mold her how you want, all she can do is groan and call out your name in response

you take pleasure in the way her voice breaks in the middle of moaning your name when you cum inside of her

her eyes widen and her lips part in an 'o' shape, you see the way the tears gather in her eyes

— the avatar of wrath snarls, though her body didn't align with the noises that bubbled out of her throat. the drool and sheen of sweat making her sticky, her blonde hair sticking to her forehead and a few stray pieces on her cheeks.

satan doesn't protest when you adjust her position to push her face into the bed and lift her hips up, instead she takes it, almost letting a moan slip out.

you don't miss the way she clenches around you when you cum in her, filling her up to the brim with your seed. her arms wrap around you and pull you in closer, as if her way of telling you to not let a drop go to waste. you also don't miss the guttural groan that leaves her lips when you call her your slut, smirking when she uses one of her hands to muffle herself.

… ♥︎ ?! asmodeus

doesn't even try to hide how good you make her feel

she likes toying with you just as much as you like to toy with her, in fact she's the one who does the dirty talking

she says the crudest, most vulgar things one could say during sex

though she prefers to moan out your name <3

she'll scratch your back, litter your body with marks, moans so loud you think all of devildom can hear her

her blush is light on her cheeks, though when you angle your hips in just the right way, you can see her demeanour fall just slightly

you swear, her insides suck you in a little harder every time you tell her she's nothing but a desperate cumslut

she also has a thing for you cumming in her, or your cum in general really

she loves the way it coats her thighs, the heavy feeling of it covering her cunt

though she likes her lower half to be messy, she doesn't cry nor drool

she just bites her lip, smirk playing on her lips as she rides out another high

— the avatar of lust looks almost angelic as she observes the way your dick slides in and out of her wet cunt. her hair graciously cascades down one shoulder as she keeps herself up with her elbows.

asmodeus grins, rattling off about how you stretch her out so well, how you hit her sensitive spots so easily without even trying. she wraps her legs around your waist, not letting you escape until she was done using you.

you tease her by alternating your pace, relishing in the way her demeanour crumbles the longer you go on. "you said you were a cockslut, right? how bout i make you dumb on my cock? you'd like that wouldn't you?"

… ♥︎ ?! beelzebub

she squirms a lot :((

doesn't know what to do with her hands, one minute they're clawing your back, the next they're holding onto the pillow above her head

she tries so hard to keep quiet :(

she'll use her hand to cover her mouth because she's so embarrassed

her face is so red

her eyes are tightly squeezed shut, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes as she sobs into her hand

the drool stains the pillow she uses to muffle her cries

she buries her face into her hands, the pillow, the sheets, anything to avoid looking at you and your cock pumping in and out of her cock

it's just so embarrassing, she can't handle it

she whines out loud when you call her a cockslut, but the way she clenches around on you lets you know she likes the way it rolled off your tongue

she keens at the praise you throw in amongst the degradation

— the avatar of gluttony grips the fluffy pillow with the strength of a thousand men, surprising you with how it hasn't ripped apart yet. the sound of her muffled cries was hardly audible amongst the sound of skin slapping against skin.

beelzebub shys away from your gaze, eyes just barely visible peeking over the pillow. her eyes were glossy and red, evident that she had been crying, which made you coo. her body squirms uncontrollably beneath you, twisting around and back arching into you.

"you're so cute, beel. my cute little cockslut, ain't that right?" you litter kisses on every expanse of skin you could reach, admiring the way her head pokes out a little more with every kiss you pressed against her.

… ♥︎ ?! belphegor

loud and shameless.

she's such a cockslut that she's willing to take you anywhere.

i'd say she gets more needy and dumb when you use her in public

she smiles all dopey, her eyebrows scrunch up and her eyes roll back

her hands love to trail to her tummy, love feeling the way her tummy bulges at all the cum you've pumped into her

her moans grow needier when she feels the cum drip down her thighs

in a way, it ignites her possessiveness

you breeding her and marking her up shows everyone else that she's yours and yours alone

it's that that drives her off the edge

the moment you growl that she's yours is the second she'll go dumb on your cock

tell her that she belongs to a human, that no other angel, demon or human could make her as much of a cockslut as you do

— the avatar of sloth stares at you with half lidded eyes, dopey grin wide on her lips, face flushed and sweaty, hair all messy with how hard you were pulling it, she had the epitome of a fucked out look.

you lick a stripe up belphegor's throat, growling a "you belong to me, got it? you're my cockslut, i'm the only one who can make you go all stupid."

she giggles, giving you a teasing look that makes you wanna roughen her up even more, though you force yourself back when you remember you're in a darkened alley.

© 2022 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t repost, modify or translate my works anywhere!

[babubabibambam]

Ayato Sakamaki HCs(nsfw)

Praise kink, praise kink, praise kink, please praise the boy. He would literally turn to goo by simple sincere phrases.

I simply adore Ayato, he’s just… mwuah.

Ahem back to nsfw hcs.

He’s a sadist, thus you’ll have all the basics bdsm things like sensory deprivation, impact play, knife-play, blood kink, orgasm control and all that stuff.

But his favorite would be whatever makes you cry or praise him the most.

When you’ve made him jealous or angry he’ll definitely edge the hell out of you, he’ll most likely bite on you everywhere, trying to cover you in his smell, basically he’d try everything to make sure everyone knows you’re his.

“Since my whore can’t keep her it’s hands out of others, perhaps I should make sure others know who this whore belongs to?” Ayato would snicker while gently nibbling your hands, only to pierce it harshly with his fangs.

After he releases that hand he’d kiss you so you can taste your own blood, if you cringe at the iron smell he’ll shove you hand onto your mouth.

Most of the time he’s rough and mean, makes you beg so freaking much. Which is why he’s into edging, he gets to hear all those pretty whimpers and pleas from your pretty lips. It only reassures him how much you want him.

Definitely into public sex, what’s a better way to let people know that you’re his? Fucking you in public is most likely one of the best ways.

If you won’t allow it, he’s gonna cum on your panties and have you wear it. Makes sure you wear skirts or shorts so that he can see it leak, or maybe leave a stain. It’s just one of the ways of making everyone know who you belong to.

Definitely into breeding. Again, a way to show off you’re taken. Also thinks his babies would definitely be cute, man’s just confident.

Right but there are moments when he’s soft. So soft and fluffy. He might be dense from time to time but he knows when to be soft. (Though it’s RARE)

Soft Ayato is the type to try to praise you but it comes off as cringe and weird. “You’re doing good pan-“ stops midway of saying pancakes.

Punishment with him is just him fucking you in a slightly public place like a restroom in the park, fucking you so hard that your moans and whines can be heard by anyone that walks by. Leaving you all wobbly and messy during the walk home. “Maybe that’ll teach ya to know who you really belong ta.” He’d say with a smirk while groping your butt in public while glaring at people who were staring at your swollen lips. “Mine.” He’d say while kissing you on the lips to show the jerk.

You are absolutely not allowed to touch yourself. He’ll take offense. “Who the hell told you that yer allowed to do this??? On the bed, on all fours, ass up and head down if you don’t wanna piss me off even more.”

Hence the edging. Touch yourself once and he’ll make sure you’ll regret it. It’s his cunt now, not yours.

Is the type to fuck you even if you’re on your period. “What? I’m horny.” Is his simple reason. He’s neutral with the period blood, doesn’t particularly like it, so he would finger you as foreplay instead of eating you out during these times. ((Cough not like he does much foreplay unless he’s punishing you.

Conclusion he’s my baby himbo and rejet knew what they were doing when they designed him.

[milky-fixx]

like iron

naruto; kimimaro x reader; angst

in which your love for kimimaro is measured in blood and salt.

Love is the iron tang of blood.

It seeps into your mouth even from the brief contact, and he’s the one who pulls away first. He muffles his cough into the palm of his hand, but even you can’t miss the stark red against the paleness of his skin.

“Sorry. I must have forgotten to take my medicine.”

You both know that’s a lie, that the truth of the matter is Kimimaro is nothing but diligent about doing anything and everything to keep his body from deteriorating further.

The fact of the matter is, he’s dying, his body failing him faster than either you, with your care, or Kabuto, with his healing expertise, can save him.

“You’re so forgetful,” you muse, looking down. You enter his cell, locking the door behind you. You’ve asked to bring him his meals, because you hold onto the hope that you could miraculously cajole him into eating. He’ll take a few meager bites of food, because anymore makes him want to empty the contents of his stomach.

Kabuto warns you that there’s no guarantee Kimimaro’s disease isn’t contagious, and that prolonged contact with him, and exposure to his bodily fluids, truly might put you at risk. You shrug his concerns off. If you will die, you determine, it will be at his side.

He is the one that you’ve devoted your life to, the same way he’s devoted his life to Orochimaru.

“You’re here. You should be training.”

“My training is going just fine. How…” Are you feeling, is what you used to ask, back when there was a chance the treatments would help. He would lie anyways, and tell you he was doing better. But now the question feels superficial, and more than that, inconsequential. “...Are you holding up here?”

He pauses.

“You should consider spending your time invested in fruitful endeavors,” he says, his voice tinged with soft resignation. “Rather than…”

“Don’t.”

He quiets, watching you with his vibrant gaze. And it’s so unfair, it makes you want to scream out, that Kimimaro’s always seemed so strong, so alive. The kind of person who could conquer anything. But in a sick twist of misfortune, his body cannot prevail over his fate. He spends most of his days spewing up blood, stifling wheezing coughs that rattle deep in his chest and leave him gasping with pain. And yet still he finds it in him to treat you gently, even as he pleads for you to leave his side.

“Don’t tell me how to spend my time–please.” (Even you can hear the quiver in your voice. You swallow it down.) “I want to be here, by your side.”

He sighs, with a kind of bone-deep weariness that you know he feels in every inch of his being. “You're making it harder for yourself. It doesn’t have to be.”

You wonder how it ended up like this. Days spent training together, nights spent curled beneath the stars, exchanging dreams and visions of the future in the whispers of two teens too young to know how cruel fate could be.

“Do you love me?” you ask.

Anger flashes hard in his gaze. “The fact that you would question–”

“Then it’s not for nothing,” you say.

Kimimaro walks closer to you, cups your cheek with his clean hand. His gaze is gleams with fierce conviction. “It’s because I love you that I don’t want you to spend your days caring for a dead man. Live. Live for me.”

Your lip wobbles. You told yourself that you would not cry, that you would not show weakness when he didn’t so much as flinch at his prognosis.

“S-Sorry,” you say, standing abruptly. “I forgot to attend to something. Excuse me.”

Why did he always say things that seemed like good-byes?

Love is also the salt on your cheeks.

–

“If you had to choose between Orochimaru and me, who would you choose?”

“There is no choice,” he says without a hint of hesitation. “Or rather, something to choose. Lord Orochimaru is my reason for living. You are my reason for wanting to live.”

–

“What do you mean he’s gone?” you ask, eyes widening. His plate of food clatters to the ground. “He’s–-he’s sick.” Your voice rises. “He’s in no condition to–”

Kabuto adjusts his glasses, sending you a grimace. “I know. I tried convincing him--he wouldn’t listen. Lord Orochimaru needs someone to retrieve Sasuke. You know how... determined Kimimaro is.”

“I am but a vessel for Lord Orochimaru. Once my usefulness runs out, I will not regret dying. But, what I will regret is–”

You sink to the floor, understanding fully that this is his choice. That no matter what he told you, this was always how it was going to end.

He looks down, seeming to test the weight of his words. For once, he is not the sure, confident man you know.

“I’ll regret that our time together was cut short.”

Kimimaro may love you, but that would never surpass his devotion to Orochimaru. You bite down on your lip hard enough to break skin, swallowing back your cries.

Love is the blood spilt over a man who was never truly yours.

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'd like to see more of the Jiang Cheng has spider venom fic. Mostly because I want to see him bite someone else. How about a Jin?

Normal For the Spider - Extra: 5 People Jiang Cheng Bit, Some of Whom Deserved It

ao3

1 – Wei Wuxian

“So I’ve been exchanging letters with shijie on account of the whole theoretically banished business,” Wei Wuxian said as they strolled down the Qiongqi Path together, Wen Ning behind them making shy stuttering friends with the handful of Jiang sect disciples Jiang Cheng had brought along with him – he’d deliberately picked the friendliest and most social of the lot, the ones that acted like overgrown puppies and wanted to adopt everyone they met, and sure enough they’d mobbed Wen Ning like a bunch of crows intent on raising the poor little sparrow they found into a proper bird. It was no more than Wen Ning deserved, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. Someone needed to socialize him, and clearly neither his sister nor Wei Wuxian were doing crap about it.

“That’s nice,” Jiang Cheng said. “If by nice you mean extremely suspicious. What about in particular?”

“Your family inheritance.”

“Is this about the summer house we have near that mountain lake? I told you, it’s been deserted for years and may possibly be haunted by something resistant to the usual liberation techniques, but if you really want to go there, you’re of course allowed…”

“That’s not the inheritance I meant and you know it.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He did know it. “What questions do you have now?” he asked. “More medical stuff from Wen Qing?”

She’d recovered from the venom very well and immediately started wanting to know everything. Recovered a little too well, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion.

“No, this one’s for me,” Wei Wuxian said. “We’re going to Lanling City in order to let Jin Ling bite me as a way to establish familial ties and let him ‘absorb’ good aspects from my personality, right?”

Jiang Cheng nodded.

“So in some cases, biting is an act of affection?”

Jiang Cheng nodded, a little more warily.

“Then how come you’ve never bitten me?”

“It’s only affectionate when you’re a baby,” Jiang Cheng said. “Once you grow into your childhood venom, it starts being dangerous, even to family; you don’t do affection-bites after that point. And when you’re an adult…well, you saw Wen Qing!”

“Eh, she’s fine now,” Wei Wuxian said cheerfully. “I feel like I missed out! It’s not fair, Jiang Cheng. I deserve a bite! I’m practically your brother! We share essential bodily organs!”

“Wei Wuxian! Don’t talk about that!”

“Bite me and I’ll stop.”

“I’m not biting you just to make you stop being annoying –”

2 – Jin Zixun

“What are you doing here?!” Jiang Cheng demanded. “This is an ambush! Is the Jin sect considering waging an act of war against the Jiang sect?”

Jin Zixun scowled at him. “Not against the Jiang sect,” he said haughtily. “Against the Yiling Patriarch.”

“He’s my head disciple!”

That got a confused sort of frown. “But you banished him…?”

“Rumor,” Jiang Cheng said, with dignity, the way they’d always planned. “Baseless rumor, that’s all.”

Rumor he’d never denied, and had instead implicitly encouraged so that people would leave his Jiang sect alone for a little while as he gathered up strength and resources to tell them to fuck off.

“But…” Jin Zixun hesitated. “You just – attacked him?”

Jiang Cheng glared at Wei Wuxian, still lying prone on the ground with his head in Wen Ning’s lap to elevate it and his neck bandaged but still a little red – surely the paralytic had worn off by now?

Wei Wuxian noticed him staring and gave a jaunty little wave, grinning and very clearly regretting nothing, which meant that the paralytic had worn off and he was just lying there to be comfortable while watching the fun.

Typical.

“A friendly exchange,” he said, trying to maintain his dignity. “Also? Not the Jin sect’s business. What about you? What did you want with him?”

“I want him to remove the curse he cast on me,” Jin Zixun said, and he strode forward before Jiang Cheng could stop him and kicked Wei Wuxian in the side. “You hear me, you bastard?! I want the damn thing gone this instant or else –”

3 – Wen Ning

“So this is going to be a little awkward to explain,” Jin Zixuan said, rubbing his face. He looked tired, but that was possibly a side-effect of having Jin Zixun as a cousin. “Tell me, why are my cousin’s flunkies – er, I mean, my cousin’s friends convinced that it was Wen Ning that poisoned him?”

Jiang Cheng scowled.

“No offense meant,” Jin Zixuan added, nodding politely to Wen Ning. “It’s just, you know, you’re very much not a Yu, or even a Jiang.”

“No offense taken,” Wen Ning mumbled, though to Jiang Cheng’s eyes he looked a little pleased, even if his stiff wooden face still didn’t do emotions all that well. “It’s nice not to be automatically feared.”

“It’s because Wen Ning punched Jin Zixun in the face at the same moment that I bit him,” Jiang Cheng interjected, because someone needed to answer the actual question. “And then Jin Zixun fell over and someone started shouting about corpse poison – even though he’s obviously turned purple! Purple venom, purple spider, purple lightning…what part of this thematic color scheme is not obvious?!”

“Technically, the livor mortis spots generated by corpse poison are also purple,” Wei Wuxian said, completely unhelpfully. “According to Wen Qing, it’s the lack of oxygen in the blood pooling under the skin or something, which is the same thing your mom’s poison does.”

“Do you think you’re helping?” Jiang Cheng demanded.

“No, not at all. Did I sound like I was helping? I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m going to bite you again, you little…”

“My father isn’t going to want to let Wen Ning through the door if he’s considered a possible threat,” Jin Zixuan said, wisely deciding to carry on with the conversation despite their bickering. “You know he’s been saying all those things about how dangerous the Yiling Patriarch is – this’ll just feed into that.”

“I’m not going to Lanling City without Wen Ning!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Wen Qing made me promise! It’s his first time visiting such a big place, too!”

“I’m pretty sure Wen Qing made you promise not to leave him behind because she was worried about your well-being, not Wen Ning’s ability to be a tourist,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Doesn’t matter! I’m not leaving him, and I’m definitely not going to not attend the party, so you have to fix this!”

“I don’t know how to fix this –”

Wen Ning coughed lightly. “Uh,” he said. “Jin-gongzi…would your father let me in if I wasn’t a threat? Say, if I was unconscious?”

A moment of silence.

“���does venom work even on fierce corpses?”

“Of course it does,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. “It wouldn’t be much of a defense mechanism for a cultivator if it didn’t.”

4 – Jin Guangshan

“I didn’t mean to!” Jiang Cheng said, his hands over his mouth. “I really didn’t mean to! It’s Wei Wuxian’s fault!”

“How is this my fault?!” Wei Wuxian asked. He looked amused, which was never a good sign, and even less so given the extreme crisis of the situation. “I wasn’t even in the room.”

“You encouraged me to keep biting people as a solution to everything!” Jiang Cheng hissed. “It got me in the mood. I wasn’t thinking!”

He looked down at the unconscious (and swiftly purpling) Jin Guangshan and grimaced. There was no convenient Wen Ning to put the blame on this time: it had been just the two of them, Jin Guangshan and Jiang Cheng, alone in a room together. Jin Guangshan had wanted to have words with him, sect leader to sect leader, which mostly meant that he wanted to throw his weight and seniority around to try to brow-beat Jiang Cheng into doing what he wanted, except that wasn’t going to work because Jiang Cheng was prepared, okay, he’d worked so long and so hard to try to build up the Jiang sect until it could resist Jin sect pressure.

And he’d probably just ruined everything.

“He has legitimate grounds to declare war against us now,” Jiang Cheng said miserably. “Or maybe to demand that we hand over that stupid Tiger Seal he keeps bugging you about as reparations, or in order to keep him from declaring war…”

“We can’t let him have it,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “It’s far too dangerous. I’d destroy it, first.”

“But then he’d still have a reason to strike against us…”

There was the soft sound of someone clearing their throat, and at first Jiang Cheng thought it was Wen Ning but when he looked up it was Jin Guangyao, instead. He looked the same as always, gentle and personable and smiling, which struck Jiang Cheng as being unaccountably weird for some reason that he couldn’t figure out until he remembered that the man’s father was currently lying on the ground being poisoned and maybe Jin Guangyao shouldn’t be smiling so much.

“If you don’t mind,” Jin Guangyao said, “I might have a suggestion that would get rid of that problem…”

5 – Wen Qing

“…and long story short, Jin Guangyao is going to run Lanling Jin until Jin Zixuan is done having kids, which may be never based on the soppy looks he and my shijie keep exchanging, and we all have the Jin sect’s blessing to move back into the Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian concluded. “All’s well that ends well, right, Jiang Cheng?”

Jiang Cheng crossed his arms and glared, admitting nothing.

“I’ll be happy to move anywhere that has decent food,” Wen Qing remarked. “This damn place won’t even grow radishes properly, and it’s Yiling; the radishes should be practically growing themselves.”

“I’ve arranged for some farmland for your people,” Jiang Cheng said, because practicalities he could do. “There’s still lots left over from before the war, lying fallow, and some of the places are medicinal herb fields – we need people with cultivation to tend to those, so I figured that might work for you. You’d have half regular farmland, to make sure you can grow whatever food you feel you need to be comfortable, and the other half, the herbs, can be sold to the Jiang sect at profit.”

“That sounds good,” Wen Qing said.

“Especially since they’re medicinal herb plants,” Wei Wuxian chimed in. “You could stock up on medicines you need!”

“A lot of medicines have to be obtained through trade, you utter nincompoop! I can’t make medicine just using what a single medicinal herb field will generate!”

Jiang Cheng nodded approvingly, thinking to himself that at least there was someone else in the world who understood exactly how aggravating it was to have to deal with Wei Wuxian’s unbridled and illogical optimism on a regular basis.

“And as for you,” Wen Qing said, turning to Jiang Cheng, who blinked owlishly at her. “Don’t think I missed the part of that story about how biting people is a sign of affection!”

“It’s – what?! No, you don’t – that’s when we’re children– it’s –”

Wei Wuxian started cackling.

[rind0uu]

# 🔗𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄(𝐘)

— Pairing: Smiley x GN!Reader

— Genre: Angst

— Warning: Graphic depiction of violence, major character death, ooc Kakucho, manga spoiler (Tenjiku Arc)

Day 4 of 14 Days of Heartbreak || Masterlist

Kawata Nahoya or better known with his alias Smiley is always seen with a smile on his face whether it be fighting an enemy or standing by the sidelines. Though, he seems to have mastered giving different emotions even with the grin plastered on his face.

A great example would be when Smiley was up against an enemy wherein they were at a disadvantage and decided to play dirty by pulling his hair and biting parts of his body, his smile still shines brightly, reaching his eyes but evident irk can be noticed on his expression.

In spite of all that, nothing appears to have wiped the smile off his face. Not until his worst nightmare comes to life.

The day starts like any other, nothing special about it till he starts to get cold feet when faced with an opponent he’s thrilled to fight. It’s as if his knees could give up any second.

“Ah, I see you found our hideout” Kakucho says after seeing the three boys, clapping his hands for the information they gathered. “Oh from what I gathered, you have a twin… Where’s he at?”

Nahoya grin gets wider, a prominent vein on his forehead, toughing out his physical appearance even when he’s feeling the complete opposite on the inside, “Why the hell do you care?”

The head of the Four Heavenly Kings merely shrugs, “I got an intel that you're some nasty brat but I can’t believe you’re standing here while your other pair is being attacked right now,” He says while shaking his head feigning disappointment.

“What do you mean?” Nahoya unconsciously gulps the lump on his throat.

Kakucho’s lips form into a maniacal grin, “What do I mean?” He mocks his opponent’s tone. “He’s dropping dead any second now…” With the words he uttered, he quickly advances forward and successfully brings the peach haired boy down.

Nahoya gasps at the sudden tension delivered right on his stomach, dropping on the ground with his body sprawled out on the floor, coughing in the process, “I almost forgot, someone precious to you is no exemption.” Kakucho adds in holding his fist in the air, hitting Smiley on his jaw.

Although Nahoya had a hard time focusing and beating the gang who ambushed Toman, he managed to defeat one of Tenjiku’s Heavenly Kings even with the wounds he endured.

Toman’s fourth division captain arrives at a scene he thought would never happen in real life.

The smile that reaches his eyes and used to shine brightly drops as soon as his mind registers what’s in front of him. “Nahoya-kun…” Takemichi’s tone full of sympathy, not knowing how to comfort the other, also shocked by the scene that unfolded.

“Can you two leave me alone for a moment?” The smile is no longer anywhere to see in his face. Chifuyu nods at his words pulling Takemichi along with him right after. Nahoya slowly takes small steps where you and Souya lie.

Tears start escaping his eyes, lips quivering, his whole body trembling, and his knees giving up as soon as he reaches close to the only loved ones he has in life. Everything happening at the moment is so out of character for someone named Kawata Nahoya.

“I’m sorry…” He chokes out followed by a sob, extending his hand to push his twin’s hair aside. “I wasn’t able to protect you two…” He continues, sobbing harder as he cups your face, “I wasn’t able to live up to our promise.”

“I know that the two of you wouldn’t want me to avenge you…” He chuckles to himself, no humor behind it. “You two share the same mindset so much,” Smiley sobs out while the waterworks continue to stream down his face, “But how can I not avenge you two when it has come to this?”

Nahoya is now full-on sobbing, wiping his tears away with his hands stained with both your bloods, “Don’t you think it’s kind of unfair leaving me behind?” His words getting cut off by his hiccups.

He pulls back his hands, hand finding its way back to his thighs, fisting the cloth tight, knuckles turning white. “I don’t think I would be able to keep that promise for long enough…”

“Especially knowing who’s behind all of this.” Nahoya says with anger in his voice, eyes looking at the murder turned accident scene.

Angry’s motorcycle scratched from flying away after what it seemed to have 'lost balance', a tall post has an indent that Smiley knows is far from his brother’s bike model.

“I will not forgive Tenjiku for this. I will avenge the two of you.” Nahoya’s eyes that used to be closed from his smile are now wide open with fuming rage behind them. “I will never forgive them.”

Tag List: OPEN || @tisiphoneee ; @rizakari ; @welkinmoongrab ; @21-06-1996 ; @tajibodragon ; @miyuaditt ; @inu-to-manjirou ;

© rind0uu, 2022. rb is appreciated. allowing translation and repost on other platform as long as you send an ask first.

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓪.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠 | ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader [25, Vigilantes, quirkless]      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: Add on to the ask my bad! {Vigilante reader instead of hero-: When hawks found out he was expecting a baby he immediately kept it a secret from the reader and his friends. Since he doesn't want the hero commission/the public to catch wind of it cause it'll put both of their lives at risk also the public wouldn't be happy to know that their hero is in a relationship with someone who isn't a female- {{Angst!- The hero commission isn't supportive of hawks love life and unborn child_ if they found out about it, they'll probably blackmail the reader into doing their dirty work in exchange for hawks life.) But,, he soon tells the reader after being confronted about his change of behavior and appearance. About 3-4 months into the pregnancy. Time skip to where the kid is born- happy ending🤙🏾

↣ rating: general audiences ↣ warnings: mpreg, size / height difference, lil’ bit of angst with happy ending, discussion of abortion

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

“No… No, no, no. Fuck!”, he cursed quietly.

Staring in disbelief at the little plastic strip, he put it besides two others. All three of them were positive. There was no doubt. Hawks was… pregnant.

Falling back onto the closed toilet seat, he sighed deeply as tears welled up in his eyes. Keigo wasn’t one to cry easily, but right now everything broke apart. How would everyone react? How would the HPSC react? How would you react? Right now, it seemed like his past was catching up to him, what if everything turned out the same? What if history repeated itself? Would his unborn child have to endure so much as well? Wouldn’t it be better, if it was never born-

“Keigo?”, your voice made him snap out of his dark thoughts.

“[Your.name]?”, hastily wiping his tears and pushing the pregnancy tests into the trash, he tried his best to sound calm.

“So you’re here! I was worried, Kei! You ignored my calls.”, when he came out, you stood there leaning against the wall, a worried expression on your face.

“Ah, no. I was just busy, you know? HPSC needed me again today.”, Kei tried his best to lie and put on his best fake smile.

But you still found it suspicious.

“Are you okay, Baby?”, taking a step towards him, your big hand cupped his cheek and your thumb gently wiped over his red, swollen undereye.

Had he been crying? Keigo? That’s rare.

“I am fine, [Your.name], I am fine. What about you though?”, he kept smiling when he pushed away your hand and walked past you into the kitchen.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while, too, ya know?”

“Ah…”, was the only sound you made as you shyly scratched your neck.

“That’s true. I’m sorry if I worried you, Kei. It’s just… I had to hide for a few days. The police were especially pesky and I couldn’t risk being caught.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay.”, he waved aside, “It’s not like I was worried. I know you can handle yourself just fine.”

This was the last thing you thought you would hear from him, leaving you confused and maybe a little… hurt? Sure, you chose to be a Vigilantes and go out at night to take care of some things your own, but to think your boyfriend wasn’t even worried about you while doing so? Maybe he really did despise what you did and he just never said so out loud. Until now, he had never commented on the illegal things you did, because ultimately, you never destroyed anything and just helped the less unfortunate people, but maybe…

After all, you worried about him constantly and he was a licensed pro-hero, still – many things could happen. Like that, you had a weird feeling that Hawks was not fine at all despite him claiming he was.

And while normally, your little reunion would have been much different, Kei just couldn’t think about anything at that point. All he was thinking about was the baby growing inside of him and what he should do about it…

-

As weeks went by, you noticed Hawks was changing. His excuse of being “bloated” was weird and got old quickly. Furthermore had your relationship taken a big hit. Few kisses and almost no touching. It almost seemed like he was uncomfortable constantly. You wondered what it all was about. Was it just over? Did your relationship just slip right through your fingers and you couldn’t do anything about it?

Usually, when you were both home, the apartment was filled with dumb laughter. It was so nice being around you, but all Keigo was in the past few weeks was anxious, quiet and easily agitated. His home was his safe place, it’s where he could forget everything and relax. Not think about his work, about the HPSC, but with your child growing consistently, it was harder and harder to relax. In just a few weeks, someone who had a keen eye could probably tell that he wasn’t “bloated” anymore. Instead, he didn’t know what to do anymore.

-

Then, one day, it must have been around the fourth month of his pregnancy, someone rang the doorbell in the middle of the night. First, Keigo wanted to ignore it, however, as they kept ringing, a thought popped into his head. He hadn’t seen you in about a week, which wasn’t unusual per se as you had to hide from time to time, but for you to not contact him at all was a little… odd. Were you in trouble? Did they find about your connection to him?

Hence, with his own feather in his hand, he was ready to defend himself as he made his way to the door. The rain was drumming against the windows mercilessly. Perfect distraction if someone wanted to raid him.

Though, when he swung open the door, ready to cut anyone and anything, it all came differently. A large body was leaning against the side of the door.

“[Your.name]!”, his golden eyes widened as your own [eye.color] ones looked quite lifeless.

Before Hawks could do anything, you couldn’t hold yourself upright anymore, thus falling through the opened door. Quickly reacting, he caught you, but being so much smaller than you, his feathers had to help lift you and get you inside his apartment. Only then, when he pulled his hands back did he realize what was on his hands and what he had thought to be water, was actually blood.

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. Rushing to your side, he literally ripped open your black coat and what was underneath, revealing a gaping wound on your side.

“Kei…”, you suddenly croaked, trying to reach out your hand, which he immediately grabbed and squeezed tightly.

“Don’t talk, [Your.name]! Everything will be alright, okay?!”, he visibly panicked.

He could hide his feelings very well. At least usually. But not this time. Maybe it was because he was hormonal due to the pregnancy, but just the thought of losing you made him cry. Hastily standing back up, he rushed into the bathroom to grab some towels and into the bedroom to get his phone.

“I… I didn’t know… where else to go… Kei…”, you coughed up a bit of blood, even though he had told you to not talk anymore.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, Baby.”, hugging you against his chest, all he could do was sob, “Everything will be alright, okay?!”

--

With a thumping heart, Hawks stood in front of the door for a few moments, before he knocked and entered eventually.

“Oh! Kei!”, you were just eating your pudding.

“[Your.name]!”, without holding back, he rushed towards your bed and jumped you.

However, hearing your painful whimper due to the ecstatic hug, he immediately pulled back with a small “I’m sorry.”

You, however, just shook your head and put the pudding and spoon away before gesturing him to come closer again.

“No, it’s okay, come here.”, you said with a soft smile as you pulled him in again.

Keigo just following your movement, scooching closer and in the end, hugging you again when you wrapped your own bandaged arms around him. You were so much more beat up than he initially thought…

“Thank you for saving me, Baby. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You did!”, sitting back up, his golden eyes were shimmering, “I was so worried about you.”

“Ehh? Didn’t you say you weren’t worried about me a few months ago?”, you just teased him, but Keigo was hormonal and highly stressed, so he reacted way too violently when tears welled up in his eyes.

“I know… But you know I like to talk big sometimes.”, he sniffled.

Quickly, you reached out to softly cup his face and wipe away the tears.

“I know. Hey… Kei. Tell me what’s going on, hm?”

“Huh?”, his golden eyes widened a bit as he stared at you.

“Baby… I know something’s going on. Things haven’t been normal lately and you act different, too. Tell me, if it’s something I did, I can change. I will do anything, but please be honest with me already… Last night, I thought, that’s it. I thought I’d die with things being so weird between us. It was horrible to think about it…”

Looking around for a moment, you were the only one in this room and even if it wasn’t the best location to finally say it out loud, Keigo just couldn’t continue to lie. He had wanted to get an abortion three times and canceled every time because he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Clearly, he wanted this baby. And he wanted you to know, it was just all so… complicated.

“Kei…”, you squeezed his hand one more time.

“Okay…”, sitting down on the bed properly, his other hand reached out as well, needing every bit of comfort and support he could get.

“I…”, biting his lip, he hesitated for a moment before looking up and straight into your eyes, “I am pregnant.”

Your eyes widened and for a second, you just stared at him in disbelief.

“Wait… you…? Really?”

“Yeah…”

“Oh my God… that explains a lot.”, you kind of laughed while shaking your head, but then you realized something.

“Wait… How long...?”

“17th week… Do you not understand, [Your.name]? I am pregnant.”

“Yes, I understand quite well and I think that’s amazing.”, you squeezed his hands again, a big smile on your lips.

“No, no! You don’t get it, [Your.name]!”, Hawks then suddenly stood up, “This is not amazing. Do you know what that means?”, he sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Kei…”

“We are fucked, [Your.name]. Do you know what happens when the HPSC or the public finds out? Let alone who the father is? What if… What if our baby has to endure everything I had to endure? What if… I become like them? Or what if the HPSC finds out and takes them away from us?”, his voice broke a little at the end, just imagining it…

“Keigo, hey.”, you turned around and placed your feet onto the ground, sitting on the edge of the bed, hence why you could take his hands again and pull him closer.

“You will never become like them.”, you cupped his face, gently wiping the tears away from the corner of his eyes.

“And, Kei, you already made a decision, no? You want to keep the baby – our baby – right? It’s already the fourth month…”

“I do… But… I don’t know what I should do. I am not myself, [Your.name]. I keep crying over stupid things, I can't concentrate when I’m doing my work and I am always scared someone finds out.”, eventually, you pulled him onto your lap, though he was careful not to hurt your side.

“I know you’re scared, Baby. I am too, but we can do it. Together. I will be with you every step. I will protect you.”

“[Your.name]…”, wrapping his arms around you, he buried his face in the nook of your neck, his small frame shaking.

“It’s okay. I’m here, Kei. And I won’t go, ever. We will do it together. And I promise… I promise I will stop going out during the night.”, you whispered this promise into his ear, earning his small sniffles as he clung to you.

“Our baby doesn’t have to grow up in isolation because of my recklessness. I will become a good father. They will have a great life, okay, Kei? We can do it. Whatever the HPSC throws at us, we will deal with it, together. I promise they won’t grow up like you had to.”

The last thing surely broke him as Hawks barely whispered a “Mhm.” back. But at the same time he was smiling, so grateful he was finally able to let you know as the last few months were really straining.

---

“I wish you were never born! You are a nuisance! You keep me from being free!”

“Why did I not get an abortion? Why did I do this to myself? You good for nothing!”

“-go! -igo! Keigo!”, his golden eyes opened at last.

Breathing heavily and with beads of sweat running down his temple, Hawks stared at you for a moment. Still not really sure what just happened the realization sank in little by little. A dream.

“[Your.name]…”

“Hey, I’m here. It’s okay now.”, you whispered and gently kissed him, before hugging him tightly.

Melting into your arms instantly, he buried his face at your chest as one hand reached down to his growing belly. He would probably pop soon.

“It’s weird… I haven’t thought or dreamt about them in over ten years and now… ever since I found out I’m pregnant… I …”, he mumbled more than anything, glad you were there to hold him.

“I know.”, was the only thing you whispered back while gently caressing his back.

When the HPSC trained him, he forgot, or rather suppressed most of his abusive and traumatic childhood. Maybe it was because he worried so much about your little baby that it all came crashing down on him eventually. But he would never become like them.

“Oh-“, both of you felt a little kick, making you giggle.

“Seems like our little baby girl wants to cheer you up as well.”, you whispered and nuzzled his head with your own while your hand reached out to his belly as well, softly caressing it.

“Seems like it.”, Keigo finally smiled a little.

“We will protect her.”, he quietly said after stealing a soft kiss from you.

“We will. And hey, the public took it really well when we outed us. The HPSC can’t do shit to hurt us anymore.”

“Yeah, I know. Thank God.”, cupping your cheek, Kei pulled you down again, before whispering against your lips, “Thank you.”

“Mhmh, for what?”, you chuckled and kissed him again, making him also giggle.

“Just… for everything. I love you, [Your.name].”

Smiling softly at him, you pecked his lips again and whispered an, “I love you too.”

For a few moments, it was quiet as you just cuddled and tried to calm down the excited little girl who was kicking and punching Hawks.

“Say… how do you feel, though? You haven’t been out in-“, but another kiss stopped him from continuing.

“I am perfectly fine, Shortcake. It… was hard, but it was the right decision. You are more important than anything or anyone else, and now with our little nugget growing… what we have is just so much more important to me than vigilante justice.”

The smile that spread across his face was truly warming your heart. It was the right decision and you wouldn’t regret it. You knew how hard his childhood was and you didn’t want that for your baby girl. She should be able to proudly say who her parents were and for that reason, you couldn’t continue your former lifestyle.

After sharing a few more kisses, Hawks then asked for cuddles, which you happily agreed to. Hence letting him shift positions and turn around, careful not to hit you with his wings, he hugged his pregnancy pillow. And then, you slipped your own arms around him, hugging him carefully and littering small kisses onto his neck.

He was so small in your arms, but that’s what he had loved from day one on. Keigo felt protected and loved when he was in your arms.

--

Calling out for you, Keigo carried the groceries into the kitchen, just to bite his lip instantly when he saw you laying on the sofa. Your little baby girl sprawled out on top of your broad chest, sleeping. Once Hawks came a little closer, he realized you were sleeping as well, thus with a soft smile he just kneeled down in front of the sofa.

“What would I do without you, [Your.name]? You two are seriously the light of my life.”, he thought with a big smile on his lips.

To think he was so incredibly sad when he found out, he couldn’t be more happier now. Everything turned out alright after all, just like you said. Leaning in, Hawks gently kissed his baby girl’s forehead before standing up again, leaving you and Tsubasa alone – at least that was his intention.

However, a soft tug on his clothes made him stop. And a glance back made him smile and turn once more, following your movement and laying down beside you, softly tucked under your arm, just where he belonged.

There were no words needed as you softly kissed him before your head fell back into the pillow. Your arm securely holding him and Tsubasa and just like that, you were able to hold the whole world in your arms.

And it certainly wasn’t any different for Keigo.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: I think I repeat myself every time I write for him but… KEIGO IS SO TINY ovo probably cuz I absolutely adore the EndHawk ship and their size difference gives me life? so I cannot help but make it happen when I write x reader with kei. like I can just dream of being as tall and buff as endeavor lmao but yeah this was nice I love preggo hawks!

[nothing-but-dreamy]

HC: s/o is dying in their arms

A/N: So..... I got this request:

"If you have the time do you think maybe you could do a headcanon with the resident evil boys reacting to their s/o dying in their arms? That angsty stuff ya know?"

And, here you go! I took Leon Kennedy and Chris Redfield. Enjoy...?

Words: 3.135

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, mention of death, raw emotions (the whole palette; gender neutral reader

Leon Kennedy:

- before Leon even can react, the infected has bitten you, digging its teeth into your flesh what caused you to cry out in pain and in surprise because you haven't noticed it behind you at all

- Leon kills the zombie or infected or whatever it was Umbrella had created this time before he runs to you

- you are already coughing blood; you press your hand on the wound but you are already spilling the blood on your bulletproof vest - ironically that you thought a bullet would kill you when you are fighting against BOWs

- you see Leon's concerned expression and that is the only thing that is really hard for you in this moment - to see him suffer; he is the last one who deserves any of this because he is too nice, too lovely, too handsome and too precious

- because deep down inside of you, you know that it is over; this is the end of your journey; the BOW didn't just take a little bite to taste you - no, it took the whole buffet and a refill on top

- you already feel the virus spreading through your veins, nagging on the healthy blood cells to change them into something nasty, at least you imagine it to be like this; it is just a question of time what happens first: that you become one of these undead monsters on your own OR that you die of immense blood loss - internally, you hope for the second option because the last thing that should ever happen is that Leon sees himself forced to kill you

- Leon kneels next to you; he doesn't even care if he is already covered in your blood, the only thing he is trying is saving your life

- he tries to give you the anti-virus but you stop him what makes Leon even more furious, a state you barely have witnessed before from this skilled, composed but also cheeky agent who always has some funny words on his lips to make you smile

"Could you please keep still so I can help you?"

"Leon, n-no... just ... don't.", you breathe, stopping his hand while you get shook by new waves of coughing.

"YN, we don't have much time. So, please, be smart and listen to me just this one time.", Leon says composed but you already see the tears glittering in the corners of his eyes - these beautiful, bright eyes you will miss the most because they held the promise of your shared future in them.

"It... it would be just a- a waste..", you choke out, taking the anti-virus to throw it out of reach for Leon who stares at you in shock, "The blood lo-lo... the loss is faster than the virus. At.... at least, I- I'm not turning into ... into...", your voice breaks as you become short of breath.

- Leon already sits on the ground, ignoring whatever happens around him; it doesn't matter at all; he just sits down, pulling you onto his lap while enclosing you with his arms as strong as he can to pull you close to his chest, the place where you have been preferably when you two were together, spending quality time in bed together

- this time, it is the same; your hands already find their way to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat while you try to breathe and live a little bit longer; you fight till your last breath just to look into Leon's handsome face, framed by these always so soft fringes; that is the last wish you have to whatever entity that might be out there - that Leon's face would be the image that will burn into your mind that it will persist till you reach the afterlife

- Leon tries to stay strong for you but it is not working; the tears are already running free as he realizes that you are right; no help would be fast enough to save you; so, this is the last opportunity he has to say things; things he always had on his mind when he saw you, when he was with you but he never found the right moment to say them; Leon was sure he would have all the time in the world to show you what you meant to him if he wasn't able to tell you that - now, he had to realize that he was wrong

"Leon... p-please, look at me...", you plead softly, seeing his eyes is something you cling to as if they are the lighthouses which would guide you back into life.

Leon smiles weakly at you and strokes bloody strands out of your face, "Don't worry, you have my whole attention like always. I always had eyes just for you, sweetheart.", he whispers.

"Oh, n-no... y-you won't start now with the-these cheesy nicknames.", you choke out, accompanied with some more blood.

Leon chuckles softly about the fact that you are still the same, talking back like always, "Fight me. When you decide to leave me, I can decide to call you 'sweetheart' as much as I want.", he says and shows you your favorite smirk even through tears.

You chuckle, "Yeah, blame me for that, Kennedy.", you whisper.

Leon leans closer to you as he notices that you become weaker, even the grip of your hands becomes less, "There are so many things I always wanted to tell you and now, you... you-", but his voice breaks because no matter how tough he wants to be it is you he is losing right now. You are his partner as an agent and in life, working side by side and living even closer.

With your last strength, you raise your hand to cup Leon's cheek, "Then tell... tell me the most imp-important thing...", you say slowly to get the words out as clearly as possible.

Leon leans against your weak touch, already feeling how your skin becomes colder. You also start to shiver and he brings you even closer to keep you warm with the body heat you were always searching for, "The most important thing? That I love you, YN. I lost my heart on you the moment I met you no matter how frustrating you were with your trouble-making attitude. As we started to date, I was the happiest man on this planet and this never changed. You just make me so damn happy. I should have told you that so much earlier.", he whispers.

You smile weakly at him, "Better now th... th-then never...", you whisper. Actually, you want to say more but you can't.

Leon, who sees it, leans down, raising your chin with his forefinger softly lying underneath it so he can reach your lips for a longing, loving and caring kiss. He feels you responding to his lips. You kiss him back. He continues to kiss you with more force, with more emotions until he notices that there is no reaction from you anymore.

- Leon squeezes his eyes shut, leaving your lips slowly and resting his forehead against yours while countless hot tears are running down his cheeks; he covers you with his tears, a veil of undying love Leon carries for you

- he's clinging desperately on your lifeless body in his arms; his fingers are digging into your skin in hope to jolt you back into life but nothing happens

- he even sobs ugly and muffles the sound as he buries his face into your hair to take a deep breath of your scent for the very last time

- he just sits like this for no matter how long, embracing you, until medics come to bring you away - or at least, they try because Leon won't let go of you; only as another agent comes to remind Leon of the rules and the protocols they have to follow, Leon gives in and let go of you but just very reluctantly

- in the end, Leon Kennedy stands there, covered from head to toe in your blood with dark gleaming eyes and a grim expression on his face with the strong determination to destroy Umbrella and everything else which fault it was that he had lost the love of his life forever

Chris Redfield:

- as Chris hears the shot, it isn't just the sound of a bullet leaving a gun;

- it is the sound that will burn itself forever into his mind, into his memories and into his heart because the moment he hears it accompanied by your muffled scream, a big part of his life will change within one second

- Chris turns around and sees you slowly slumping down on your knees before you fall to the ground, lying on your side and gasping for air

- the Umbrella subject the team was chasing is already on the run with the gun still in his hand; two members of Chris' team are running after him, catching and arrest him

- but Chris doesn't care for the mission any longer as he sees you nearly unconscious lying on the ground, a puddle of blood already forming underneath you; seeping from the nasty gunshot wound in your body

- with long strides, Chris is next to you in just a few seconds; he throws his rifle aside; undressing the protected jacket he is wearing to press it onto your wound to stop the bleeding but he already has noticed that your aorta got hit; blood is already everywhere and still pouring out of you very quickly

"YN! Open your eyes! Now! That's an order!", Chris says serious and slaps softly on your cheek to wake you up.

Very slowly because you already feel weak, you open your eyes just to see his worried expression, "That didn't go as planned, right?", you choke out with a strained voice.

- The other members of the team are in some distance just watching helplessly the scene; the medic feels frustrated and angry because there is nothing he could do to help you; he already had seen that you will die within the next few minutes and in the way Chris treats you in front of everyone, the medic knows that Chris is aware of your death as well

- Chris knows what such a wound means and so, he doesn't want to waste any precious moment with you; you, the one person he kept the closest to himself; it were against a bunch of rules to start something with a team member and Chris always was dutifully enough to stick to the rules until you showed up; you changed the game the second Chris had laid his eyes on you;

- you were the best explosive expert he could ask for; your personality was just as spicy as your grenades and first, Chris thought you were just toying with him but quickly, during a mission where the two of you had to save each other asses, he realized that you weren't just flirting out of fun instead, you really wanted him; Chris was sure with his assumption as you were kissing him;

- that was you and your character - cheeky, playfully, bubbly, maybe a bit too over the top but straight forward if you really wanted something; mostly when you wanted him

- all this is swirling through Chris' mind as he kneels next to you, scooting you up into his lap to have you closer; he doesn't care if someone sees the two of you; he already expected your relationship to be an open secret to the other members of his team; they all knew about the two of you and secretly, they were all shipping you two so hard; destroying any kind of rumors in the beginning to protect the two of you and that no superior would notice the tiniest bit

You look into his beautiful but concerned eyes, "Chris, I'm sorry, I fucked up.", you whisper, your voice is layered with pain and agony; you even try to move but you give up as you already feel your body becoming numb

"Shh, everything will be good again, you will see. Don't worry.", Chris whispers and strokes softly over your back. He's lying, he knows it, you know it, the others know it, but no one cares; you know he needs that to stay strong for you or otherwise he would break in front of you;

- no matter how tough Chris Redfield seems to be on the outside, you know how soft he is on the inside; you discovered this side on him very quickly because he couldn't keep up his resistance in front of you; this tough, tall and broad guy turned into a soft, passionately and cuddly teddy bear in your hands and you wouldn't want to have it differently

"Yeah, you know, Captain, there are still a few things I wanna do with you.", you say low with a soft smirk, using your favorite 'nickname' for him to produce a weak smile on Chris' lips; you always used his military rank as a teasing nickname when you two were in bed, knowing exactly that it turned him on to get called that from you in a sexy voice

"What things do you wanna do? Tell me so we can plan something for the next week. We all need a break.", Chris asks, his voice just a whisper because he can't speak louder anymore or otherwise the raw emotions would take control over him completely.

"Showing you my home town. My mother wants to meet you so desperately.", you say before you hissed with pain, "You know, I told her a few things about you."

"Oh, already? I had no idea you're so serious with me.", Chris says, his voice heavy with tears while he strokes beads of sweat out of your face.

"Obviously, I fell in love with your sexy ass and now, there's no turning back anymore for me because I just love you, Chris.", you whisper weakly, one single tear is running down your cheek because the last thing you want is to leave this incredible man forever.

- that you address him by his name is almost too much for Chris to handle because you just do it when you talk about important, serious things; he swallows thickly because your confession is everything he always wanted to hear no matter how sure he was to have you; to hear these three words coming from your lips was everything Chris was longing for and now, as they came, he would have done everything to switch these words with your life to keep you by his side a little bit longer

Chris pulls you even closer, "I know you will hate it to hear but I won our bet that you would say 'I love you' first. Gotcha.", Chris breathes, nudging your nose with his and now, he even can't stop the tears anymore from running freely down his cheek, soaking his shirt and even your combat clothes

The blood loss is already too heavy and so you claw your hand into Chris' shirt to pull him down to you because you can't move properly anymore, "I can handle losing this silly bet because I already got the jackpot of my life a long time ago.", you breathe before you connect your lips with Chris’ for the most passionately and longing but at the same time desperately kiss the two of you have ever shared.

- all the love you feel for this soldier is lying in your lips which are getting colder with each passing second. Chris' lips are hot against yours, the stubble he sports as a beard, because you like to see it on him the most, is already wet with heartbreaking tears; you try to deepen the kiss but the dizziness in your head is already too much; Chris encloses your face with his free hand, supporting your neck with his long fingers and kisses you stronger than before; your tongues are caressing each other lovingly before Chris breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours

- You feel Chris' warm breath fanning over your face while his heart is racing under your weak grip of your hand. You hate to see him suffer like this, knowing that he has to live with the pain to lose you, to be alone again. You hope he finds someone else even if you already know that Chris will have a tough time while coping with your death, maybe even using your death as the cause to start a vendetta against Umbrella and everything they do.

Your vision becomes slowly blurry and the edges of your sight are already black, "Chris, promise me that you won't do reckless things...", you choke out, followed by some coughing.

"Stay by my side and I won't do anything, I promise.", Chris whispers, offering you a solution.

"I will always be by your side, Chris. I will be watching over you.", you breathe before Chris kisses you again until there is no more reaction from you.

- Chris rests his forehead against yours, clinging to your dead body and crying silently with closed eyes; his face is a mask of pure agony and despair while he grit his teeth; his veins are filling with anger and hatred for what has happened to you; he still can't believe that you are gone, that you have left him just like this, leaving him alone in this crazy, cruel world of living nightmares

- the team is speechless about the whole scene; to see these two lovers getting separated far too early hit all of them; just the medic is able to function, knowing what kind of protocols they have to follow; the medic tries to get Chris away from you but the huge Captain is not moving; so, the three others have to drag him away from you with all the power they can find

- reluctantly, Chris let go of you, standing up with shaking knees; while he tries to catch his breath, his eyes are landing on the suspect who had shot you; before someone of the others can stop him, Chris, feeling like a blank nerve, storms over to him, pushing him up against a wall, beating into the man's face what brings him down to the ground with a bleeding nose and eyebrow; Chris even wants to kick him but the team mates can hold him back, bringing him away so he can cool down somewhere else

- but Chris won't ever cool down again; he promises to himself to use your death as the fuel to keep the fire burning to fight until the last BOW and even Umbrella would have paid for what they had done to you

- You didn't want him to do something reckless but Chris wouldn't do anything reckless, he would be merciless till the moment he would see you again