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artdivadej · 1 year

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Survivor's Remorse (III)

Part Three

18+ | NSFW |

Trigger warnings: PTSD, Gore, Death, Sexual Trauma mentioned

Part 4| Part 5| Part 6| Part 7

When I woke up, I was back in Peeta’s bed and not alone. Haymitch must have fetched him once I gave in to my exhaustion. He sat beside me in the bed, propped against the headboard trapped in place by my arms locked around his thighs, my head lying in his lap. Once again keeping him in anchored in place. His fingers ran through my hair tenderly, twirling within the curls and rolling them around his fingers. His right hand just above my forehead, the thumb stroking my temple as he hummed The Willow lullaby in his throat lowly.

Oh, my sweet Peeta.

I couldn’t help it when I nuzzled into his hand as his left thumb began to stroke at my cheek, shifting his hips so he could be closer to me. I wiggled a little as my eyelids fluttered and while Peeta’s humming stopped, his fingers hadn’t. My heart thudded wildly in my chest with the fear of having to face him. Ugh I am such a coward.

“Love”, Peeta called in that honey sweet deep hum of his

Biting my lip, I took a steadying breath and rolled to face him, grateful the curtains of my hair mostly hid my eyes as I peeked through my lashes at him. I relinquish my hold around his thighs and slowly draw myself from his lap in a sitting position beside him, my head still lowered.

How was I supposed to just talk about this?

Biting my lip harder, it took Peeta’s gentle hand on my cheek to snap me out of my inner turmoil. As I nuzzled into his warmth, his thumb slid under my chin tilting it up with ease so that I was now forced to stay trapped in the deep honey filled depths. His eyes saddened just the slightest in the pained blink he gave when he saw that mine were still red and terrified. His index finger slid back and forth across my plump bottom lip and I knew that even red and puffy he wanted to kiss me.

It felt criminal to wish that he would.

“We need to talk” “About?” “Us”

A sharp intake of air was the only answer I gave him. I was ok to talk about this.

“And our first games”

This I was not.

“What about it?” I snap defensively pulling out of his touch.

I don’t want him touching me when the grime of that time still coated my skin. Not those hands.

“I...I don’t want to upset you” “A little late for that” “I’m sorry about that. But, I want to be with you too much to let this be what’s keeping you from me” “Peeta please” “Not this time sweetness”, he shook his head as his blonde curls moved like waves against his forehead.

Mmm. His hair only looked like that when he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly in frustration. He did it a lot when he was stuck on a design of something those strong fingers created. I loved when it was tousled like that.

“First of all, you’ve always had permission to touch me however you wanted to since our first games. I don’t know if you remember but, I’m pretty sure I gave you explicit permission in that cave and again on stage in front of millions of people”

I searched my memory.

The interview.

I told Caesar about how I felt that I could keep Peeta and it gave me hope. I hadn’t wanted to elaborate on what I meant because I wasn’t quite sure myself. Peeta had lit up beside me, his body weight shifting so that he was domineering now dwarfing me with his body and energy on that loveseat. He had whispered it so huskily in my ear, his warm breath fanning against my neck in a way that made me grateful my thighs were pulled up tight on the couch firmly pressed together.

“So, now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?”

When I’d answered him, he’d kissed me with such passion I had the distinct feeling that he would have made love to me right there if there weren’t other people in that room.

“That was not an invitation” “I’m the one who sent it love. I’m pretty sure it was” he chuckled pulling me closer so that he could rest his forehead against mine “Oh sweet girl...I want to kiss you. Really kiss you”

When I didn’t move away his eyes widen a little before his right arm snakes around my waist and pulls me so that my leg is thrown over his, my left tucked on the bed between us. His hand is back on my cheek, my neck arching to meet his eyes. When had he gotten so much taller than me? I didn’t realize I’d licked my lips or been staring at his until his tongue flicked out and copied the action. A small pant of anticipation leaves my lips bringing a small smirk to his lips.

“We have to talk first”, he breathed. “Oh Peeta please” I gasp wanting to stay in this dreamworld he had me trapped in “I promise I’ll have my mouth on every single inch of you tonight” “Oh yes please” “After love”

With a huff I tucked my face into his neck for a minute attempting to calm down. Why was I giving in to my normally easy to stifle urges like this?

I took care of these thoughts I had about Peeta at home.

Alone.

I wasn’t vocal about this. I never admitted my craving for him like this aloud to anyone. What the hell was going on with me? My body still felt heavy, a small thrum like a hummingbird's wing going through my veins.

Morphling. That fucking Haymitch. Traitor.

Peeta turns me in his hold so that my back is to his chest, his large thighs like tree trunks on the outer of mine, fluffy and plump in comparison. When had he gotten so damned hunky?

Well...he was kind of always this way, wasn’t he? When he’d turned 17 and we went to those games I saw a completely different Peeta than I had 2 years before at 15 tossing flour in his parents bakery. Peeta was stocky and cut.

It made sense that every girl but me had noticed and wanted him, not being big on anything outside of survival. Not until I'd volunteered, slamming my hand over Katniss' lips as I violently yank her backwards into line. She had a family and honestly, most of our district to provide for. We hunted together but I had no one that needed me.

I was alone. I always had been. If I could save her then I could help the district stay fed. Even with me dead Gale and Katniss would still be alive to provide the meat for our people. A necessary sacrifice.

“Do you want me to touch you?” “Sometimes”, I admit before I can stop myself and just sigh in defeat knowing the morphling and alcohol has given me a loose tongue regardless. “I’d never thought about any of that until you’d kissed me in the cave. Something just different about that one. I could feel you really didn’t want me to go. I laid up that night going over every good memory I’d ever had. You, your blonde hair, the dandelions that always seemed to grow around you...were always in the background. It was in that cave I realized I’d always been watching you too”

His arms tighten around me and I wish I could see his face. He inclines his head and I can feel his wide grin against my cheek.

“Do you like me?”

I don’t know why but I start gasping for air, tears streaming down my cheeks in resigned guilt, his arms tightening nervously.

“Yes” “Do you love me?” he husks as his breath catches in his throat

I begin to struggle against his stronghold now. If I admit it to him, I can never stay with him. I need to run.

“This is what we need to talk about. Why are you running?” “I can’t. We can’t” “Because of what you think Marvel did to you?”

Now I’m hissing like an angry cat trying to get out of his hold. He barely had to use any effort to keep me still and I was still already almost out of breath. Marvel, the fucking Capitol. The list was growing of thing I didn't want to think about and tried to force myself to forget.

“He didn’t hurt you the way you think he did love” Peeta whispers in that honey sweet drop tone again

I begin to settle but he knows this is a façade and his grip does not slacken in the slightest. He knows me too well.

“Tell me what you remember about that night”

I am now totally still in his arms fighting against the vicious memories. ‘Even if you were just friends, you don’t think you owe him a conversation about what happened?’. I know Haymitch is right so, with a shaky breath that steadies with the tightening of his arms around me, I begin to talk to Peeta about that night.

***

I’d killed 2 tributes who’d been on my tail that day and was bleeding pretty badly from one of them. A career. He’d had a curved blade that sliced me across my stomach from ribcage to ribcage.

I’d fashioned a needle out of my fishhook and used some of my own hair to stitch what I could up to staunch the bleeding, at least until I got to a bag with a real first aid kit in it. I bit down on some tree bark to staunch my screams and give myself something to focus while I stitched myself together.

My sponsors must have liked this.

I was done and washing the blood off by the river, delirious from blood loss (thankfully my was body in shock) when I heard the familiar beeping of a parachute. There was a note from Haymitch. It contained a syringe to give me a boost of some blood supplement to keep me going and a 3 oz jar.

HIDE & APPLY –H.

Whatever it was, he knew it would leave me open to attack. I’d need recovery time.

Injecting the needle directly into my neck I look around the bank hoping it has some rock caverns like the one further upstream does.

It doesn’t.

Shit.

Maybe I can make it there before the adrenaline wears off? I’d been looking for Peeta for most of the day when the Careers had caught up to me and I was exhausted. As I stumbled along, I found a nice one that was perfect for daytime sleeping too. Covering the entrance with twigs and leaves I dipped inside of the camouflage.

Once tucked neatly inside I lay my back against the left side of the entrance’s wall. Pulling my shirt off I unwrapped the bandages I’d hastily wrapped around myself and began to slather the blue ointment on generously. It had an instant numbing sensation before it felt like a cool jelly was rolling over the sutured skin. With a sigh of relief, I tucked the jar away, pulling my knife to sit on my thigh as the numbing sensation began to spread throughout my entire upper body.

This is what Haymitch was warning me about. I had to get away from the lip of the cave if I was going to be practically immobile for a few hours. Just as I’d begun to drag myself backwards to the heart of the place, I heard the sadistic cackle.

“Found you” Marvel smirked climbing in.

Adrenaline was always my saving grace at the worst of times and I was depending on it heavily right now. My hand was still around my knife so I slashed it at him with a roar of defiance, refusing to be killed this way. I’d nicked his cheek because he was a bit too tall for the cave but he was still stronger and I was weak from blood loss and medication. He’d knocked my hand aside, slamming my wrist against a stone to let it go, before pinning it above my head.

“Glad to see Clint didn’t get the tits. They’re hot” he panted

As I kicked and bucked beneath him his panting only grew louder, fumbling with my pants as he yanked them down my legs. Oh no!

If there was going to be any boy I’d ever let touch me, it would be....

“Peeta!”, I screech like a wild animal biting at the arm that held my hands pinned

I can hear his buckle going and my heart is practically pounding in my ears. They wouldn’t let him would they? Of course they would. They sold us to sponsors. The Capitol would love this. Star-crossed lovers ripped apart by Captiol favorites and tainted beyond repair before death. This was primetime tv. Oh but this would only air in the Capitol. A secret from the Districts about their taboo guilty pleasures.

I wanted to cry until my throat was raw but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He was pushing and yanking against me so roughly but, so much of me was numb and my consciousness was fading, it was hard to tell when I couldn’t even lift my head. With the very last ounce of strength left in my body I screamed loud enough to hopefully scar every single pair of ears watching for all eternity,

“I only want Peeta!”

As my eyes roll in the back of my head I see a flash of gold before I’m out cold.

***

“That’s what I remember” I breath still shaking in his secure embrace “Can you promise to listen to what I remember now? Please sweetness?”, Peeta coos softly in my ear

I hear Haymitch’s condescending yet honest voice in my ear, ‘Grow up.’ and the alcohol/morphling cocktail was helping ease my stubborn attitude.

“Yes”

It’s all I offer.

I don’t expect what he does next and it makes me understand why he’d yet to slacken his hold on me. He’s playing our games on a small screen at the end of the bed.

“No!” “You promised” “But I-” “It’s only about 5 minutes I promise. I even had Beetee help piece it together with me. Luckily, he was awake”

I trust Beetee. Beetee was always a friend. He’s one of the reasons I recovered so well from the trackerjacker torture with so much of my mind in tact. I’m still tense in his arms but I don’t try to run now. The assurance that an ally has helped him soothes my distrust.

Peeta continues the video.

It’s that night and Peeta is clearly tracking me. Had to have been the way I was him to find me once they made the announcement.

“I knew I was close but you move so quietly in the forest. I mainly had to track you through your snares and the wildlife I know you’d recognize”, he explains.

I watch him track me pretty well for someone who’d only been learning it for a week. It’s clear he only can because he knows me. Then his head snaps up. It’s clear Beetee made sure none of the Capitol commentary is on it, just the sounds from the games. I appreciate that. Then clear as a bell, I can hear my scream from the northeast.

He really wasn’t very far from me.

“That was my name”, Peeta breaths his hands shaking

Peeta’s wide body tears through the brush, towards the sounds of the scuffling where he heard the scream come from, unforgiving of anything in his path.

“Come on. One more time. One more time love!”, he was whispering under his breath.

He was at the river now, looking around wildly for any sign of me. It was clear to see his whole body was shaking as he fought his fear of the worst.

“I only want Peeta!”

It wasn’t more than 50 feet in front of him. That cave! He’d have never noticed it if he hadn’t heard me.

He bolted for it and I closed my eyes.

My breath hitched in my throat, not wanting to really see this from his point of view. I’d been in denial about this too long to have to face it like this.

“Open your eyes. Please. You need to see this” “I know what happened” “No, you don’t. I said I got to you in time. I wouldn’t lie to you about that” “Peeta...you have no idea how sore I was” “I didn’t say it wasn’t for lack of trying. He was trying but he was too excited. Scared. Inexperienced. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really give him time to explain himself”

Now I tilt my head up and nudge his chin with my temple forcing his attention off of the paused screen back down to my face. When his eyes meet mine, I search them for a while, seeing that honest gentility I’d always come to know from him.

“Prove it”

Peeta kisses my forehead before turning my face back to the screen. Now he’s threaded his fingers through mine as he holds his arms wrapped tight around me. I like this position.

“Ready?” “Ready”

Peeta bursts into the cave, looking around wildly before he looks down. Marvel isn’t aware he’s there yet as he’s cursing in annoyance and shifting his hips. Peeta crept closer picking up the knife I’d been forced to drop.

As he slunk to the left with deadly silence, he realized just what was happening. Marvel was struggling to try and penetrate me, his hands shaking as he kept just trying to shove himself in, his left arm on the wall behind my head to try and keep his balance while his right hand raked at my skin.

Peeta’s eyes go feral, his lips pulled back in a snarl and he drops the knife. The sound startles Marvel but it’s too late now. Peeta’s hands are around his slim throat and lifting him from my naked body as if he weighed nothing, slamming his temple into the side of the cave over and over, a wild fire in his eyes. Each time his head met the stone it making a sickening wet, crack.

Peeta picked the knife back up when Marvel slumped to the floor with a moan, part of his skull crushed. But Peeta was not finished. Peeta forced him to his knees, hands gripped tightly in his hair, yanking them by the root. He held him there before me, so he could stare directly at me through the streams of blood running down his face.

“Mine!”, he rumbles loudly in Marvel’s ear in a deep cadence I’d never heard from him, his honey eyes dark as night.

Before Marvel can blink Peeta slits his throat, letting his blood run over and at my feet.

It was as if he'd sacrificed him before me for the disrespect. Was it wrong to love watching him become such a force? To love that he'd do such a thing for me.

The games really have made me a monster, haven't they?

“You are nothing”, he sneers in his ear waiting for all the life to leave his body before dragging him out of the cave and kicking him into the river for the Gamemaker's to find.

Rushing back inside to find me Peeta quickly checks if I have a pulse first. He lets out a sigh of relief before taking the water jug Marvel had. He used it to wash the blood from my reopening wounds of my upper body.

“I’m sorry love. I promise I’ll cover you soon”, he apologizes as he cleans my body.

He rewraps my stomach wound and uses the rest of the bindings to fashion me a makeshift bra, for modesty's sake I suppose.

“I’ll make this part quick I swear. I’m sorry”, Peeta apologizes again softly looking into my sleeping face.

I know what he’s going to do. He has to double check, and get all traces of Marvel off of me. It’s clear he’s trying to figure out where the cameras would be placed, as he looks suspiciously around the cave, before giving up and just doing his best to shield me as much as he can. He’s on his knees, mine propped up over his and resting atop his thighs so that even if he could see all of me no one else could. He grabs the jug and a piece of his shirt he’d ripped to begin cleaning between my legs. He’s so gentle and serious as he inspects to make sure Marvel hadn’t actually penetrated me. He hangs his head for a second before mumbling to himself.

“She’s gonna smack me when she sees this”, he groans before taking his middle finger, gently and slowly slipping it within me.

My eyes narrow and I’m sure he feels my back stiffen, because his arms tighten slightly around me, to stop me from actually smacking him if I were so inclined.

Video Peeta lets out a deep sigh of relief before planting a kiss to my bent knee.

“You’re all good love. Impotence must be a Careers thing” Peeta chuckles to himself in a private joke.

Once I’d been fully cleaned by him, Peeta quickly dressed me in my pants and tucked me deep into the sleeping bag. That only lasts for a few hours because I’d begun to flail in my sleep calling for Peeta, threatening to open my wounds again. He never left my side after that.

I hadn’t realized I’d been hyperventilating until Peeta’s voice is calling out to me softly. Marvel didn’t. He couldn’t. Peeta really had gotten to me in time. I wasn’t a complete monster.

I wailed and slumped against his chest feeling boneless. Peeta turned me in his arms and began to lay kisses over my forehead and tear-filled eyes over and over before making me look into his again.

“I need you to understand something sweetness. Whether he had or hadn’t, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for me about you. I love you. Do you hear me? Someone hurting you wounds me; it could never disgust me. I kept my distance because I didn’t want to pressure you when I knew what he tried to do to you. I need you to want to give me all of you. To have you watch me drown in all of your pleasure as you let go and trust me with all of you. But that had to be on your time. To find out that you’ve been pushing me away all this time because of him...” Peeta’s voice cracks as his forehead lays against mine “I killed almost as many tributes as the Careers did in that arena Peeta. All I wanted was to keep you safe. I didn’t care how much a monster that made me. Then we got back...and the Capitol changed my eyes, my mouth and even tried my breasts before Haymitch took me from the surgical table in a rage. I’d become the monster they wanted. Marvel was under orders to take the last remaining shred of my humanity left. And I thought he had Peeta. Do you understand what that meant?” “Tell me” “My world was now darkness. You are light. You are air. All the good things in the world. Even having been cast into the darkness, you still outshined it. I feel like I’m standing in the sun when I’m with you. I couldn’t bring myself to taint the one thing in my life I’d swore to live and die for. Even when they were breaking my bones and trying to force me to forget the real you, I held onto that light. I knew no matter how dark my world got, as long as you were close enough to shine some light, I could breathe. But I couldn’t drag you into the darkness with me” “I would follow you to the pits of hell if it meant I could spend eternity with you”, he rumbled

Something in me snapped.

I didn’t give him time to move out of reach again. I pulled his bottom lip into my mouth and threw my left leg over his so I was straddling his lap. Peeta responds eagerly, taking me into his arms and slipping his tongue under my top lip taking control of my passion as he hungrily explored my mouth.

He even tasted of honey and nutmeg.

Both of his warm hands slid up my back beneath my shirt, bunching it up higher and higher as he caresses my skin. It’s easy since it’s one of his and quite loose on my small frame but his hands are leaving trails of goosebumps all over my skin and I tremble against him unwittingly.

When he nips my plump bottom lip I gasp, my hips jerking so that I ground against him. That...that felt good. Capturing my lips in a heated kiss Peeta’s hips roll against mine and I see just why it feels so good. I can feel his length against the seat of my underwear. I whine in his mouth as a shuddering breath escapes his lips.

Leaning back to press my hips further into his I throw my head back and begin to roll in a steady rhythm with him. Just as I’m about to lean back up for another kiss I feel his lips enclose around my right nipple, his mouth so wet and needy.

“Peeta!” I croon with a jerk of the hips

His left hand cupped my breast to get a better angle and yes, he did. He laid wet, suckling kisses to my hardened nipple. With each suckling kiss he increased the pressure and extended the time he spent between them.

“I promised I would have my mouth all over you tonight baby. I intend to keep that promise”

Oh I had so many plans for that mouth tonight.

(Had to cut this one in half cuz it's LONG. Next chapter is straight smut I swear 😈😏😹)

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itskattkm · 10 months

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New York New Rules Pt. 6

Warnings: Violence, Trauma, Fluff, maybe Smut, mental health, blood

Summary: Y/N meets the survivors of the last events in Woodsborrow and gets on Ghostface's list. But there is also a darkness in Y/N wich path is she going to choose

Female Y/N x Tara Carpenter

Sorry for bad writing. I'm using a translator and hope you guys can enjoy it. Also, this is going to be a slow burn

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,

My body felt heavier than usual and I felt exhausted. Why was that actually the case? Shouldn't I be full of energy after sleeping?Lately I just didn't seem to be able to recover and then there was this light. I sighed and pinched my eyes. How did this tense light always get through my curtains? I had bought extra dark ones and always made sure to close them in the evening so that no light would bother me...

Suddenly I felt a touch on my right shoulder. Confused, I pinched my eyes and tried to open them slowly, but it was definitely too bright.

"Turn some lights off" I heard a female voice say, but could not arrange it. I immediately noticed the difference through my eyelids and tried again. Slowly my eyes got used to the light and I saw the person who had put her hand on my shoulder. Angry I told her "what the fuck Kirby... did you give me sedatives?! seriously?!" she briefly pressed her lips together and looked at me with a crooked smile "you had a little panic attack and if we hadn't done anything..." I shook my head and touched the place Where they rammed the syringe into my arm "that wasn't cool" Kirby tensed for a second.

Now my gaze left Kirby and I realized that I was in the hospital. I quickly scanned the room and noticed the Woodsborrow gang. When they noticed my confused look, Tara said "Kirby called us and we set off immediately"

Did they? Were they really worried about me? Did they care? I asked myself and looked thoughtfully at my bandaged arm.

That's right... there was still my half-slit hand. Fuck.

"After all, you are no longer one of the main suspects," Mindy said and came to my side as she supported herself on the railing of the bed. Bitter I looked at her "wow... and for that I just had to be attacked by Ghostface?" And then suddenly there was guilt in Mindy's eyes. She detached herself from the railing and straightened up slightly confused.

I could literally feel the tension of the others. It felt like energy, it was heavy and crushed the air in the hospital room. Irritated I looked at her and continued "and that's enough? To take me off the list? If I were really Ghostface... and who knows maybe it's me. Then the first thing I would do would be to hurt myself to be no longer suspected as Ghostface."

Mindy opened her mouth and didn't know what to say. Anika already put her arm under hers and pulled her to the side, whispering something I couldn't hear. Then my gaze met Sam. What did she think right now? I asked myself when I looked into her dark eyes and couldn't find anything in it. I exhaled slightly and put my head back when I briefly closed my eyes and had the black eyes of Ghostface in front of me. I was back in this dark corridor, but this time there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

"We should talk to her," Tara whispered. But I kept my eyes closed. I was now assed to catch up. I was ashamed of what happened. I couldn't help Maria.

I immediately opened my eyes and looked at Kirby in search. I grabbed her hand that was laying on the railing "Maria?!"

Kirby squeezed my hand firmly and gave me a warm smile "it's really a miracle but she made it. She is not awake and it will take her a while to recover."

Calmly, I nodded and squeezed Kirby's hand. Maria was fine, after all. However, the shame did not disappear. I was weak! How many times had I thought of such situations? And I really thought I was strong enough? I am such an idiot! How could I think I was strong when I didn't even manage to defend myself, let alone survive. I certainly wouldn't be here without Kirby.

I know exactly where I would be. I would lie in the corpse hall with counts of knife stabs and a slit hand plus I would not even have had the chance to get closer to Tara anywhere.

Tara... my attention was back and I was looking for her look. She was now on my left side and Sam at the end of the bed. Mindy, Chad and Anika had left the room.

"What happened?" Tara asked and there was this spark in her dark eyes again. Damn, I was never a fan of brown eyes, they never interested me, but since I knew Tara... I had that feeling to sink into them and there was something I liked about it.

Her voice was calm and caring. Again something completely different that I never heard from her before. From my side eye I recognized how Kirby was moving and looked at Tara and then at Sam. My brain played the whole event and I started "I had just finished the pizza and talked to Maria. She went forward and then everything happened so fast" I was so confused that I couldn't resist a short laugh. My eyebrows tightened slightly when I thought of the word "surreal" and looked at Sam "on the other hand, it felt like time had stopped when I saw Maria with the knife in her throat and then Ghostface"

"He didn't call you?" Kirby asked. Suddenly Tara's hand was on my shoulder. I exploded from the inside and was hit with nervousness, but I tried not to be noticed. I smiled and shook my head.

Why did I always have to smile about unpleasant things? I just couldn't let it go.

„Strangely not. He said that he didn't have my number and he knew about my working hours in the pizzeria, I immediately tried to find clues" I looked at Sam "to recognize who it was, but fuck these costumes make it really hard for you" she nodded to me in agreement. "the fact that he or she... didn't have my number, made me think that it was Ethan. Apart from the attack that followed, I didn't get any reaction from Ghostface..." Kirby nodded "apart from the fact that we couldn't catch him... strangely enough, he didn't leave a mask like in the other crime scenes" I looked at my hand. My whole arm was bandaged and I couldn't do anything with that at first.

"Something about this attack felt different..." I began and looked at Sam "the attack felt very personal..." thoughtfully and with serious eyes she looked at me "to what extent?" I looked at Tara and met a searching look. Several words jumped through my head as I tried to find them suitable. When I had put the sentence together to some extent, I looked at Kirby "as if I were a needle in the eye."

Sam and Tara seemed to be confused but Kirby's knew what I meant. I could virtually see the screws in her head when she processed my statement. She nodded "I'll pass on your statement to the station and be right back..." she now looked at Sam and then Tara "you should inaugurate her. If you trust me..." Kirby looked at me and she slightly raised the corners of her mouth "then you can also trust Y/N. For her, I would get a knife stab" one last time she pressed my hand and disappeared.

There was a strange feeling in my chest. Something that exceptionally felt good when Kirby said that.

Sam sighed, "Where do we start?"

——————

"Fuck... that's really... well… shit" I said and found no suitable words. I looked upset at Tara. I couldn't interpret her feelings, but this forced smile seemed very tormented to me "I'm so sorry..." It wasn't my fault. I didn't know her so well but damn... it hurt me to know that. To know what she and Sam went through and to get through it again. How did they have to feel? If I were her, I would also be careful and would certainly not let any strangers approach me.

But what made me sadder was knowing how she had felt. Now that I was attacked, I could imagine it well and could literally hear her screams in my head. Shit, I hoped I wouldn't have to hear her scream.

Deep inside, I wish I had been there and could help her.

Y/N what kind of shit are you actually talking about? You've known Tara for 6 months and have hardly exchanged a word with her... I'm such a fucking Simp.

"I guess we got something like matching tattoos," said Tara now and had forced to smile when she raised her hand and showed me her scar. We were matching?

I looked back at my bandaged arm. Damn it... matching wounds. But hey, at least something that allied us if I want to see it positively.

Now I looked at Sam. Now I understood her monologue that she had presented to me after the taxi ride... "Loomis… so" she nodded "maybe my words have no meaning for you but... after all this ‚we have the same therapist’ thing... I don't think you're a killer... I don't know why but I feel like I can understand you and trust you… and trust me. I also have trust issues" cherished she smiled. It was a smile that reached her eyes.

"Thank you for telling me about your story... I'm completely honest. Mindy is something like my only best friend... but I haven't felt like I was part of your group so far. And if I were you... I wouldn't let anyone into it so quickly."

Tara's hand lightly squeezed my shoulder.

Wow, was her hand on my shoulder the entire time? Damn it seemed to be my lucky day today. Wait, what kind of shit am I saying? Maria and I were almost killed.

Suddenly there was a knock on the window and our eyes met that of Quinn and Ethan. I looked at the two of them skeptically. Detective Bailey could now also be seen behind Quinn. "I rule that," said Sam and left me and Tara alone. She sighed and leaned slightly over the scaffolding.

She played with her fingers and seemed to be in her thoughts. "I'm really sorry," I said again, drawing her attention to me. Peaceful That was the first word I could think of when she looked at me. "You don't have to apologize for something that happened to you" I shook my head "no I'm sorry for what happened to you..." now the peace disappeared and a slight solid was recognizable. She looked at my bandaged hand. "Of course I wasn't there and didn't know you, but I wish I had, because then I would have liked to ram a baseball bat in the face of this stupid bitch," confused, she looked at me but had to smile. "Sorry, I don't even have the right to call her a stupid bitch, I finally stopped myself and got a fast heartbeat from the smile she threw at me. "I think I'm high," I said and began to laugh. Perplexed, she looked at me but could not stop grinning when my laughter became more and more. That was the part where I wanted to hide my face in my hands, briefly I had cursed with pain as I tried to lift my arm, to hide my face and left slowly my arm back in place. Astonished, I looked at it "these painkillers... are incredible"

"Are you Sure it is?" She asked now and looked up at the morphine. Confused, I followed her gaze and saw that it was not dripping at all. "Oh..." confused, I looked around and slowly began to sweat. Suddenly there was such a strong heat in me and then these palpitations "you can’t hear my heartbeat, can you?" I asked laughing and stopped immediately when I realized that I had just asked her that loud. Tara laughed. I could imagine how empty my expression was at once. I would have laughed about it too. "No, I can't... should I?" I bit my lips and took her gaze in touch even though I tried to avoid it. "let me express it like that... I'm glad I'm not connected to any ECG"

Suddenly she leaned further over the railing. Her smile dirty and her eyes radiated something mischievous "Do I make you nervous?" I laughed. I was definitely nervous. And not ready for this intense gaze contact. Above all, I wasn't ready to hold it, but trangely I couldn't interrupt it. Was it the fear? Or did I like this situation with Tara more than I thought?

"Are you sure I'm not high?" I now asked seriously and carefully placed my bandaged hand on one of her arms that she had leaned over the railing. She laughed and nodded "pretty sure..." I carefully straighten up on "good... then I'm at least with full mind" flustered were visible in her eyes when she scanned my face before she could say anything. I quickly put my other hand on her neck and pulled her to me. I had greedily put my lips on hers, but I was frozen when I realized what I had just done. Carefully I detached my lips from her, our faces were still so close that my lips brushed hers when I exhaled with relief. "I've wanted to do this for so long," I whispered. Damn, why did I say everything I thought today? Had my body also conspired against my head?! And then it happened again. Only this time completely in a different way.

I put my lips so slowly on hers to be able to save every single detail. Why did it suddenly feel so liberating? And I owe it so well. Just when I thought that was the best feeling ever, Tara convinced me of something else. Her hand slowly slid around my neck as she pulled me closer to her and returned the kiss. Her touch around my neck triggered a vibration in me as I could never have imagined. And then those lips. "Fuck..." I whispered against her lips. They felt so damn soft. It was all so new to me... and there were so many feelings at once. With each new touch and interaction, I discovered something new. "Y/N..." she whispered to me as her grip around my neck became tighter.

Our lips moved in sync with each other and I swear I could kiss Tara for hours.

"Y/N..." no whisper this time...

Then I suddenly heard a bang. I was confused. But I didn't stop kissing Tara. I had to enjoy this moment now.

Then a bang again. But was it really a bang? "Y/N" this time it was louder and again the popping could be heard... wait... that was a snap.

I opened my eyes confused and saw in Tara's bright ones, a wide smile on her lips. I whispered "sweet dimples" and straightened up confused. She laughed even more.

"You fell asleep for a short moment but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye first" crookedly I looked at her "what was the last thing that happened before I was gone?"

Again, she put her hand on my arm. This time the hand with the matching wound. "You asked me if you were high..."

"Fuck..." I said disappointed and let my head fall back. Was it all just a dream? Why? Why are you doing this to me God? I asked.

"You like to curse... don’t you?" Tara noted with a grin.

"In a world like this? Yes, I do" we both laughed.

"We're all going back to the apartment... if something should happen, we'll keep you up to date, okay? And I'm pretty sure you're safe here with Kirby. I hope so at least," she said and whispered the last part when she looked outside.

Oh my God, did Tara just say that she hoped I'm safe? How could you be so sweet and sexy at the same time?

"By the way... you have to tell me on occasion how you and Kirby know each other" she said and looked back at me.

"I’d love to... I like to talk to you," I whispered exhausted. She squeezed my arm slightly and gave me her smile one last time "see you soon"

Y/N you fucking Simp, you survived a Ghostface attack and exchanged more words and time with Tara than you could have dreamed a few days ago. Get her. What do you have to lose?

#actress #celebrity #fanfiction #jenna ortega #ghostface #melissa barrera #samantha carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell #lorraine day #wednesday #x reader #wednsday addams #jenna ortega x reader

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dragonologist-phd · 7 months

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Owlcatober Day 11 - Arcane

Eden discovers new allies, is given a new mission, and brushes up on ancient magics.

also on ao3

It seems oddly fitting, when Eden and her fellow survivors finally escape the demons by the skin of their teeth only to break through the getaway tunnels and stumble into the middle of a ghoul-infested graveyard.

By the time Eden finds herself swarmed by the undead, with Rekarth at her side and a group of civilians behind them, she is bone-weary. Injured. Terrified.

Angry.

She plants herself solidly where she stands, and the ground below her feet rises around her boots, rooting her to the ground and keeping her stable. She raises her hands, letting instinct guide her movements, and unleashes a beam of forceful magic at the charging monsters.

Her blast knocks them back, and when they hit the ground the earth hungrily swarms around them, reclaiming the dead that have escaped its graves.

A few straggling ghouls remain, but Rekarth picks them off quickly- providing Eden the opportunity to stumble to the ground in exhaustion. Dimly, she hears the boom of an opening stone door, but she doesn’t even notice the newcomers until one is standing directly in front of her.

“Excellent work, excellent!” a strange gnome is saying. He’s staring at Eden with one good eye and a lot of enthusiasm, despite the pieces of husks littering the ground. His entire persona is a barrage of colors, and the effect is only enhanced by his energy as a beaming grin takes over his face. “I do have to ask, just out of professional curiosity- what spell was that?”

Eden can only blink in confusion as she considers the question. “I don’t…actually know.”

The gnome doesn’t appear discouraged in the least. “Even more excellent! You’re a fellow sorcerer, then? A humble conduit to the whims of your magic?”

“Well, not really-”

“No? Oh, I must inquire more about your arcanic abilities-”

“Back off, would you?” Rekarth growls, returning from his pursuit of the ghouls.

The gnome dips his head in acknowledgement. “…admittedly, that may be best left for another time.”

“I’m sorry,” Eden says, still thoroughly confused by the very presence of this man, “but who are you?”

The gnome perks up, his smile returning. “Oh, but where are my manners? Sendrimell Knuckles Kimberton Tourmaline, at your service. Just Sendri, to my friends. And I swear on my life, on the sublime Desna, and on my magnificent boots, that I shall protect you from the monsters of this city and lead you to a safe place, wherever that may be!”

“We’re the ones who saved you, you dolt,” Rekarth grumbles. The stone door booms again, and another man comes stumbling out, this one much less energetic than Sendri. The gnome scuttles over to help his companion, and Rekarth watches him go with a scowl.

“Careful with that one,” he mutters to Eden. “A friendly idiot can be more dangerous than an enemy.”

Eden chuckles, and she eases herself to a more comfortable position. Rekarth moves closer, concerned, but she shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just…gotta rest.”

Rekarth nods and steps back, though he still watches her with an inscrutable expression. “You said you were a smith.”

“I am.”

“Never seen a smith do that.”

The words aren’t quite accusatory, but they’re not innocent, either. Eden glares at him, just a little. “You hang out with a lot of smiths, then?”

“Fair point,” Rekarth admits. “No, my work’s a little more…off-book. So I’m not one to throw any stones, if there’s anything you haven’t told me. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“It’s nothing so exciting as all that,” Eden says. “Not all of us are spies. And it’s not a sorcerer thing, whatever that means. It’s an Oread thing- my family’s always had some magic in our lineage. My grandmother used to say it was our connection to the mountains.”

The thought of Gram brings a smile to Eden’s face. She hasn’t actually used her magic in years, not since they left their mountainside home. It’s always felt weaker here in the city…though apparently it’s strong enough to handle a few monsters. Gram would be happy, Eden thinks, to know that their old lineage has come in handy again.

“You’re strong,” Rekarth says simply, and although Eden has always known this in some sense- one doesn’t become a blacksmith without developing some muscles- there’s something in hearing it said to her that feels different.

“…Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” Rekarth says. “Look…I really, really hope I get through this alive. But I’ve got to have plans for if I don’t make it to Defender’s Heart in one piece. That means you. Thee Crusaders need this report, and if something happens to me, then you need to use everything at your disposal to get it to them. Magic, swords, whatever it takes.”

The sudden somber shift in tone catches Eden by surprise, and for a moment she’s speechless. Rekarth lets the silence hang a moment, then shifts his gaze to where Sendri is chattering away to their growing group of civilian survivors.

“And if we get to the point where someone like him is the one we’re depending on to deliver the message,” Rekarth says, “I’ll be so spitting mad, my spirit will rise to deliver the report itself.”

“Careful making declarations like that in a graveyard,” Eden replies, glad for the lift in mood. She hauls herself to her feet, her stony skin creaking as she stretches out her muscles. “Let’s get going so it never comes to that, hm?”

#ch: eden #pwotr #through the ashes #owlcatober 2023

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theangrypomeranian · 6 months

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Hey, I don't know if you remember me, lol. I left a (what felt like) rambly comment on Chapter 26 of Baby Steps on AO3 (under the same username) a long time ago, thanking you for portraying how Tina gets support from the people around her after dealing with all the jerky guys and the harrassment she faces. (I think I quoted what Frond said in that chapter, also?) Anyway, I kept reading until it was updated in August because of work and prepping for my sophomore year of college. I wish I still kept up with it at that point, honestly, as this story really just helped me with a lot, but life drained me.

I just recently was able to go back and pick up from where I left off (though I did go back to around the end of the prom arc, because that's what I had the clearest memory of). And I just wanna thank you again for writing this story.

You're an amazing writer, I'm so glad I found this story when I did. Thank you for responding to that comment I made way to early in the morning, for giving me an outlet to deal with these feelings I didn't know I still had from my harrassment experience, and thank you for responding with your kindness and understanding. You'll never know how much I sobbed when I saw your reply, especially when you had typed that you believed me. Even as I type this ask up, I'm getting teary-eyed thinking about it because some part of me still feels in disbelief that someone believes me. Thank you.

I've thought about this series for so long, and I'm glad I get to come back and continue reading. I hope you're well, and I wish you the best. Thank you for all that you do and for changing my life for the better. Truly, I admire you. I'll always be supporting you and your writing.

this has taken me way too long to respond do and i want to apologize for that. i have no excuse other than executive dysfuntion and general exhaustion like to kick my ass lol.

i want you to know that i literally think about you and that comment you left all the time because it means the absolute WORLD to me. i believe i told you in my reply that i am also a fellow survivor and i wrote the story for people like you and i to read and find some closure and healing in. knowing that i accomplished what i set out to do has kept me going so many times when i looked at the wip and had thoughts of just giving up, of abandoning it and disappearing from the internet. i couldn't because people like you and i deserve a happy ending. these characters and their stories deserve to be finished for people like us. and i want you to know that until the day i am gone, i will believe you and your story. what happened to you was awful and as Mr. Frond said, someone with authority should have stood up for you. in my opinion it is criminal that they didn't. you didn't deserve that. but you are so so strong for getting past that and being where you are now. and i am so incredibly proud of you, and i am forever humbled and grateful that my silly little fic has helped you even a little bit. thank you for sending this ask and telling me all of this, and i hope Baby Steps' ending makes you happy. <3

#pom answers #interwebseriesfan24 #casual affection au #baby steps #and again i'm so sorry this took me so long to respond to #you're incredible and i'm glad you found me here <3

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fortifice · 3 days

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gep playlist explained.

safe and sound / taylor swift & the Civil Wars. thinking serval lullaby sort of vibes here. general war vibes is also very much gep coded in my brain bc fight fight war war.

would anyone care / citizen soldier. very much leaning onto the when you are strong for so long you are also suffering. people not seeing what he's enduring, how exhausting it is to push and push and the battle has no end in sight.

heavy is the crown / draughty. it's for this one verse specifically about soldiers for me, see those who are sent to war die like lambs sent to slaughter, the toy soldiers being the guard upon the preservations altar. there's a couple of other stray verses here which feel gep shaped to me. a shield always withstanding.

Army Dreamers / Kate Bush. there's alot of tiktok edits going around with this song rn and they're all regarding soldiers who die early and that's very guard shaped to me. the chorus is also showing what they could have been and what they won't be because they will die young, they will always die young.

Running up that hill / Kate Bush. again, emphasising the encouragement to not express how it feels, about how it does hurt, about how the deal they made is going to cost them their lives. and the if I only could make a deal with god to change their places being regarding those who have died and Gep could not save them.

hymn for the missing / red. this is very much grieving the lost, what it feels like to march on as a soldier when people you care about very dearly die and you see them die. the only place they meet again is in renditions of their death and life in dreams and it's just reaching for them but being unable to touch. you took it with you when you left being the bond and the happiness that others create in your life. scars referring to the ones that litter alot of gep's body from conflict.

little lion man / mumford and sons. the not as brave as you were at the start really does speak to the way Gepard was when he joined the Guard and was filled with zest for protecting and where he stands now, the weeping could be grieving. you know that you have seen this all before, death, death more death.

avalanche / bring me the horizon. Am I broken, what's the chance I will survive reflecting onto processing grief, what it means to exist beyond the death of comrades, what it feels to be broken for the first time. the square doesn't fit the circle is very much Gepard needing to fit the paragim that's been inherited by his name and how he's not the perfect fit. the whole chorus just really reflects on inner turmoil, I cannot think how to precisely articulate it but it's like, the shaking of his world to the core by death and fighting and anguish.

monster / epic the musical. this is very much self reflecting on the things he hasn't prevented, the supreme guardian's corruption, working in tandem with that and realising how much you stand for isn't what you thought it was. men dying, again.

ruthlessness / epic the musical. this is sort of a aha the vibes are there for me but it's also Gepard father reprimanding him for being weak willed when you listen to it in my brain atleast.

my goodbye / epic the musical. thinking conversation between Gep and his father, thinking about how not viewing others as assets and weapons leads to being soft, sentimental, that he did not teach him this way. Odysseus' s part in this is him talking back to him, telling how he's enduing every single death that occurs on the front lines, that his father is blind to that reality.

just a man / epic the musical. survivors guilt !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

remember them / epic the musical. this is very much the preservation of the will of those who perish on the battle field, even the way he sings it really slams that home to me. the fire they continue to stoke is the will they preserve and the way they push on is for the sake of their fall brothers.

playing his game / death note musical. i added this last night thinking about sampard LMAO i don't have an excuse this is just sheerly the vibe of understanding each other getting under each other's skin.

#32 fucking slides later.#anyway.#alot of it is just angst truly.#。 ‧͙*̩̩❆ ✧ study ‚ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ﹐ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ / ᵐᵘˢⁱⁿᵍˢ #ok #now i stare at the wall for another hour.

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feleon · 2 years

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Home

(image source)

Genre: Fluff

This one is written for all of the abuse survivors, those who have managed to escape, and those who haven’t. I recently escaped my abusive situation and with the support from those around me am finally flourishing. I felt inspired and decided to write a one-shot.

Warnings: Slight mentions of emotional/physical abuse

This was it.

You finally have your own place, your own space. No one invading your boundaries, and you no longer have to endure the abuse you have endured for years.

It’s finally over.

The past few months you spent couch surfing, living on your partner’s couch in his shared living space while you hunted and hunted for weeks to try to find a decent, affordable space. Your entire life was packed away into your vehicle. Every day calls sent out, but the messages were the same. "No availability,“ or unaffordable. You felt hopeless. You essentially were a homeless runaway. Your psyche nearly shattered as the last mug, the last insult was thrown at you for the last time. But he kept you going. Leon kept you motivated to continue your search. Eventually, you would get lucky. And eventually, you did, managing to secure a one-bedroom.

What may have initially felt like an empty void of a space, felt like a sanctuary to you. You may have only moved in with just a mattress and what small necessities like towels, plates, clothes, and soap you could fit in your car. But eventually, your sanctuary filled up. And so did you. You didn’t have a word to describe the place, it was in an ever-changing, transitional stage. A lacuna at first.

But then a deluge. Boxes upon boxes, endlessly coming as they had been going, towering up to a busy, crowded city. Your singular form once again feeling lost. But you had support. The furniture felt unnavigable, just like the city it represented, burdensome, nightmarish to tie together. But you had help. You always had your support in Leon. He helped you build your space up, spending hours and hours several nights building furniture for you, tearing down that city, doing most of the heavy lifting. Several nights he hit the bed hard, exhausted and drained. Leon helped you carry out all of the scrappings to the dumpster, burdening most on his shoulders as he insisted on burdening himself with most of the work with a stern look on his face.

Tonight, you had finally finished putting together your last piece of furniture. The last piece to complete the place. It had been two months, but you were finally done. Covered in dirt and sweat, you head to the shower and turn the faucet.

As you wait for the water to heat up and cleanse you of your troubles, the door turns and the curtain opens behind you.

Strong, hardworking arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close.

Soft, gentle kisses on your back, shoulders, neck, cheek, showering over you. You turn around and lock lips with his, becoming one unit, as he holds you under the downpour. This moment is what you’re here for.

After you were all cleaned up, you slipped into a t-shirt and underwear and slipped under your new, clean covers. As he slipped in to join you he grabbed you in an embrace, holding you close as you both fell asleep.

You finally knew what this felt like.

It felt like home.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #x reader #oneshot #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #fluff

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literallyadude · 1 year

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Son Goku

by https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/281838

(please note that I am biased towards DB as a whole)

Stand User: Son Kakarotto Goku

Stand: Dragon Soul

Dragon soul gives Goku the ability to absorb damage done to him and his stand and dish it out with the same amount plus his own. Being trained under many different stand users, Goku has found many creative ways to use Dragon Soul, even extending its range to people he touches to absorb their damage instead, calling it “Senzu Growth”. This stand is strikingly similar to the JoeStar line of stands.

Secondary Stand: Mystical Adventure

Along with 6 other close friends and allies, Goku has a stand named Mystical Adventure, taking the form of a small ball with 4 stars etched into the surface. It seems that this stand attracts to others of its kind, drawing Goku and his friends to eachother over time. Once per year, the 7 people can come together and summon a massive golden dragon to grant a wish, the wishes can only be within the 7 people's maximum power times 2. (Other holders of Mystical Adventure are Krillin, Tien, Yamcha, Bulma, Master Roshi and Piccolo/Kami)

Awakened Stand: Dragon Soul Act 2

Upon the death and mutilation of some of his closest friends and family, his rage awoke a new golden stand to face against an alien stand user. Dragon Soul is now able to fully nullify attacks unless the attack is more powerful than he is. He is also able to project energy-based blasts from Gokus hands as well as generate a seemingly infinite amount of stand energy from him. His speed has also increased 50-fold, being able to move much faster than a bullet train. His healing capabilities have also increased, able to heal a hole through someone's heart before they could bleed out, as well as fully regenerating their stamina.

Awakened Stand: Dragon Soul Act 3: Survivor

Once again awakening in a fateful battle within a tournament held by an extremely powerful Stand Master, Goku awoke Dragon Soul once again into a silver toned Survivor. Survivor is now over 400x faster than Act 2, as well as generating an excessive amount of electricity, sparks forming around it. It is now a fully realized stand, being strong enough to go blow-for-blow with a stand able to destroy small mountains. His stand has lost the ability of “Senzu Growth” in exchange for the massive boost in power. Using this stand's maximum power for too long can exhaust and even kill Goku, which is why he always reverts it back to Act 2 after use.

Awakened Secondary Stand: Mystical Adventure Act 2

Following the battle that awakened Survivor, Goku found that his and the 6 other stands awoken to their Act 2 Forms, being dragons of varying physiques and powers. Each one is about average strength and each one can grant a wish separate from eachother, but their power grows the closer they are. If all 7 dragons were to touch, their power would be functionally infinite with the wish they collectively could grant.

#jojo #jojos bizzare adventure diamond is unbreakable #jojo stands #dragon ball #dragon ball super #dragon ball z #db #dbs #dbz #goku #son gokū #son goku

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adversityfought-a · 2 years

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( ★ ) 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Didn’t expect to dig into Chris’ darker thoughts / negative emotions but here I am.

Put under a —*READMORE— for the sensitive topic I’ll be mentioning. Touches very briefly on Chris’ suicidal ideations. Please steer clear if this topic is one that will affect you negatively or is triggering for you.

To put it bluntly - yeah Chris, if he didn’t have the massive amount of survivors guilt weighing on his shoulders this whole time, that strong sense of devotion & that want to try living in his lost comrades places, he might have succumbed early on. He tries all he can to make sure those he works with survive, but caught up in as big a shit storm as he usually is, it all boils down to experience & luck to survive - unfortunately a thing he has in spades even if he tries to shove himself clear right in the face of whatever danger they face.

Part of my headcanon for why he got so beefy as he had post code Veronica is because of that helplessness at not being able to fight Wesker of all people, only barely managing to scrounge by because of sheer dumb luck & perfect timing among other things. Having Claire also get caught up in things only furthered that fear of being useless, not strong enough to act when people were in danger. Plus with them ending on the note that they did where it was pretty much a promise that Wesker would be back again in the future, Chris has that lovely thing to look forward to. It makes sense he’d want to be ready. But also!

He’s got a very specific brand of protective defensiveness, where… he kind of recklessly tosses himself in the way of harm or puts himself between the threat & whoever he’s trying to protect in a shield like manner. NOW CONSIDER. He got as large as he did to act as a giant target of sorts, to attract the attention his way, an old habit picked up from his time as S.T.A.R.S. point man always being the first one to snoop out danger before the rest of the team. He’d be essentially a walking beacon for danger, human or B.O.W. to take the brunt of any attack meant for his teammate(s). He is very aware of it, will purposefully make himself take the lead or place himself in the line of fire if it’s needed to protect others. In his mind, it’s the least he can do to try & save others, considering he’s run out of time as is - thinks he should have died way back then. Whatever life he’s living now, it’s nothing more than borrowed time given to him by those he failed & let down.

Soooo… long story short, Chris isn’t actively looking to meet his end, but he will not put his own self preservation above another persons if he can help it. The tie of things keeping him from getting too careless or giving up entirely is admittedly the knowledge that he’s one of the only ones who can fight bioterrorism & live to possibly make things better, & also the knowledge that his former teammates all would have wanted him to continue on, if not in his stead then in theirs. So its a frustrating topic, one he will internally debate himself on in late evenings when he’s more glum & tired than usual.

He’s even more likely to slip into that distant, foggy headspace when he’s overly exhausted, returned from an absolute failure of a mission, or lost someone close to him.

#-`ˏ ★ ˎ´- ─ HEADCANONS.#suicidal ideation tw #trauma tw #/ HHHHHHH #/ HE JUST HURTS MY HEART SO MUCH

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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 2 years

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Hello! How are you? Hope you had a spiffy day. About Senjuro's death, did Sen ever felt disappointment about the fact that his death initially didn't change anything or push things for the better in his family, or were there any other emotions? Did Shinjuro and/or Kyojuro ever had nightmares about Sen's death? How did the the town where Sen goes to school to react to the aftereffects of the demon attack, and the deaths of the students and teachers, especially Sen's? Did Sen had any friends that survived the ordeal or wasn't there when it happened, and how did they react to it? How did any of them react when Sen came back into society after more than a year of his "death"? Did any rumors came to be about the school massacre, and what were they? Was the demon who attacked the school killed, and by whom?

TW: I mention a father having drinking problems, I describe different scenarios of a young child being murdered along with do discuss how children died. If you watch demon slayer the latter should not be a problem but pls do be wary.

Senjuro was mildly disappointed but he isn't super surprised. He saw that his dad never seem to react the best to stress so if anything he's more shocked how broken and empty Shinjuro is. No matter how bad Shinjuro's drinking problem got, he always still seemed strong to Senjuro and his young impressionable mind, seeing that image broken was very shocking especially since he's living off fragmented memories so the very sharp contrast made him question his shaky memories.

Of course they had nightmares, the people around Kyojuro and Shinjuro would not get a peaceful night of sleep until months after Senjuro's disappearance. Shinjuro would see his son, weak and defenseless, desperately running as a demon ripped his throat out and ate him until nothing remained while Kyojuro would see his little brother trying to call to him for help as a demon jumped and murdered him. Shinobu and the butterfly girls would make remedies and whatever medicine they could so sleep deprivation didn't hit Kyojuro as hard as it would since he tried to stop seeing those nightmares by simply not sleeping but this of course harmed his health and made him drowsy and prone to headaches from lack of sleep. After a while the dreams stopped not because they got over it but because they were too emotionally exhausted to even dream up some horrific imagery. They would be briefly haunted by nightmares again upon learning Senjuro is a demon because they worried he was no longer the Senjuro they knew and all that was left was a demon hungry for flesh. These stopped upon them finally coming back together as a family.

A kid from Senjuro's class was slacking off from cleaning survived and later became a Kakushi. He wasn't particularly close to Senjuro but he was horrified at the fact his classmate tried to get help but "died" before he could. When he hears that he isn't the sole survivor after the Pillar meeting, he bursts into tears and actually goes to talk to Senjuro though they were never particularly close and just ended up living their lives after rejoicing over the fact they weren't the only survivor of that awful day. They exchange the occasional letter about how they're doing.

No one really knows what happened to the people that day and I am not knowledgeable enough on yokai to concretely say who they think murdered all the people there but there are rumors of the spirits of the children and teachers being seen going about their day as though nothing happened along with rumors the dead children will haunt any teenager and or adult they see because they envied the people who got to live out the lives that were cruelly robed from them. This is all speculation and rumors.

A demon slayer nearby dealt with the demon. It was a random Kanoto merely on her way to her next mission. She would actually try to speak to Kyojuro about it but wouldn't find the words to say and it's Kyojuro who makes the first move to thank her for slaying the demon that he believed took away his little brother.

#demon slayer #kny #demon senjuro au #senjuro rengoku #rengoku senjuro #senjurou rengoku #rengoku senjurou #shinjuro rengoku #rengoku shinjuro #shinjurou rengoku #rengoku shinjurou #tw alcoholism #alcoholism tw #death tw #tw death #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kyoujuro #kyoujuro rengoku

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shesmorethanfibro · 2 years

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May 12th, National Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. 🦋⠀

I was 13 when my journey with fibromyalgia began. This year it will make it 8 years since. I remember hearing from doctors, “you’re young, you shouldn’t be in pain” well, that didn’t stop it from happening anyway right? Fibromyalgia affects more than 3 million people in the US alone per year. I was cheerleading with fibromyalgia. I was going to dances with fibromyalgia. I was going to school with fibromyalgia, going to the mall, laughing, smiling, all in pain and feeling so much every single day. And there are days where I can’t even get out of bed. Or I cry when i walk a little too much. Or i get a sharp pain that has me hunching over in the middle of a store. Or when my insomnia and my chronic fatigue are both bad at the same time and i hallucinate. Just because people with fibromyalgia smile, doesn’t mean that we are not in pain. That doesn’t mean that we don’t deserve to have a cure. ⠀

I had different ideas for this post. A little positive. But I don’t have that in me. Because I am just so mad at the world. I’ve been having a really hard time with this recently. Even after 8 years for me, acceptance is hard to find. Because we do not deserve this. I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I don’t want to feel exhausted all the time. I don’t want to also have insomnia. I don’t want to deal with the symptoms my body likes to randomly throw at me like fibro fog or sensitivity to weather, whatever weird shoulder arm thing my body has decided to hit me with, numbness, skin sensitivity, light, noise sensitivity, flares, and so much more. I want to be able to one day say that I used to have fibromyalgia. I know we all do.

From a monologue I wrote for one of my acting classes, “And I feel like I’m never gonna be truly okay, because I am going to always be waiting to wake up from that nightmare. And I never will. I don’t deserve you. You do not deserve me. You don’t deserve to take my dreams, and my hope, my days, my laughter, my happiness, my life. But if you want to there’s not much I can really do about it to either succumb and let you…or try to survive through you and in spite of you. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. But with that being said, I just want you to know… I am here. I am here fighting to have and keep those things everyday in spite of you. Good days and bad. You may win the battles, but I will win the war, I promise you that. And I will never give you the satisfaction to say otherwise. You may beat me down, but you will not break me. Because that is what I deserve.”

I find it so hard to even see myself dealing with one more day with fibromyalgia. But I’ve made 8 years. And no matter how hard it gets, I can say that I’m surviving it. And that’s something fibro will never take from us. That we are survivors, we are WARRIORS. And by raising awareness, we can get actual helping medication, we can get a cure. Because we deserve that. So I’m asking you guys to stand up, and wear purple, share, like, comment, whatever because we with fibromyalgia and chronic illnesses do not deserve this. And maybe if we all raise awareness for it that we won’t have to deal with this forever. Cause I know for a fact us warriors are SO strong. But that doesn’t mean that strong people don’t get tired. So let’s all please raise awareness so that we can come up from this nightmare one day. Thank you. 💜

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ceruleanblooms · 8 months

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musing

how does one find their footing on the path to express their truth? To put eloquent voice to their deepest pain. to never exhaust on the tiring path we walk in pursuit of surviving with some light left in our souls. to stitch back together the pieces of ourselves that have been savagely ripped apart in the brutality of life. I am done yelling into the abyss, hiding my light, my love, my truth. My voice will be worth gold.

You didn't break me, can't break me, so watch me as I effortlessly create beauty, exude grace, flow with endless rivers of creativity, capture intimate memories, and expose the truth of my innermost soul with a heart that is strong enough to have learned the contrast between what is true vulnerability and what is perpetual victimhood, long ago. I am divine, untouchable, a survivor; I am a goddess, and I am a woman worthy of respect, always.

🖤🌻

those who have never lived and conquered within the darkness, can never truly appreciate the light wholeheartedly.

I continue to boldly outshine any of them who tried to conquer my life force. I project my pure character into my art, my vulnerability, my wisdom, my inner strength, and my love.

#musings #Thoughts #dark truth #poetic #dark romance #fearless #let your voice be heard #love yourself #Truthsandbeauty

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ofmistnmoons · 10 months

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[ 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ] // from mui uvub

His breathe was heavy. Broken, sickening wheeze rag through his lungs. He felt like he was going to be sick. But there was a determination on him, an audible growl, “…..where the fuck is it.” It’s a snarl on his lips. His blade was chipped to shit, one more hit and it would surely shatter. But he kept moving in a maniac fury. Stabbing through the debris, dark heavy circles drag beneath his eyes. He’s exhausted. He is dead on his feet. And yet he kept searching. Because this wasn’t done. He wasn’t free. Not until he found ‘it’.

It had been his chain, his cage, whenever he dared to act out of line, speak up against the upper moons while they grabbed at him. Tore at his flesh, dug into his flesh to bring out his blood. Fascinated by him. How could they not? He was human afterall! In the infinity castle of all places! And brought in by upper moon one no less! And that moon was training him in the style of moon breathing…. An oddity in every sense of the word! Those little bouts always came at a end if it was one of the moons. Stopped in his tracks by the simple sound of clicking chains, a simple necklace, but it was not the chain that stopped him. It was what hung from those chains. A simple thing, a glass vial.. filled to the brim with a sickening thick liquid. Blackish crimson, swashing about within its container. A threat. A promise.

That. That was the key to his cage. He had tried. Tried for years ever since his teacher, his ancestor, began to send him out with some of the moons as his keepers. Where he was used to search for that infernal flower during the day, used to cull useless demons. Forced to watch and ‘aid’ the moons against the slayers that happened to cross them. Each. Every time. He did manage to leave more survivors then the dead. He’d tell them . While pinning them to the floor. ‘I am human like you. If you don’t want to die, stay down. Do not move, you’re covered in my blood they will ignore you if you play dead. Stay still til sunrise. Tell your leader to send a hashira, this assholes a upper moon.’ Then he’d leave, careful to slash the throats of slayers that were bleeding to death. It was a kindness. Better a swift death then to be eaten alive.

And that is how he’s survived these last two years.

His latest keeper, a pair this time. Moons 4 & 5. He finally got his chance to escape, to break away. But this wasn’t finished. Not until… until. His nails dug against the dirt, picking up that promised vial. If he were to try and escape, if he were to disappoint Kokushibo in his teachings. If he was not deemed strong enough. This vial of blood. The blood of his ancestor, would be forced into him… and ‘Yuishiro Tokito’ would be made into one of them.

Gasping, wheezing, coughing hard on his own blood. While he was not here to face upper 5, he was busy facing down the army that had been summoned and surrounded the village on all fronts. While the two hashira were busy with the moons, tens of thousands of those monstrosities would flood the Swordsmith village. And wipe them out. But that… that never came. What was left instead, were large, crescent shaped craters. Marring the forest floors, fell a large part of the trees around, but that army.. never made it to the village gates.

Now, standing deep in the north side of the forest, Yuishiro stood. Stock still. Covered in his own blood, clutching that damned vial in his grasp. Gasping, his shoulders falling with each breath he took. “……I…told you fuckers…t-that I’d… get.. out…”

Shit he felt faint. He’d love to smash the damn thing. Throw it against the closest hard surface, and watch the blood burn away. Yet. He tucks it away in his left pocket, to pick up his sword again. Troublesome. He turns on his heel. Ready to search out upper 4, give his aid. All the strength left him as his eyes rose and he came to see. Not a yard away from him. 3 figures. A man. 2 children… strange masks. And his plan to aid is forgotten. One step, a stagger. Tears beginning to prick at his eyes and he r a n. He ran.

That couldn’t.

It was!

Steps stop short of the fallen other, falling to his knees, his only remaining hand clasped over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. Trembling, overjoyed, if the little kid was speaking, Yuichiro couldn’t hear. No all his attention was transfixed on the youth on the ground. Familiar raven to cyan locks, his mirror image, with only his missing right arm to act as their main difference. That kid was yelling now, moved in front to protect kelp head from this new ‘threat’. But.

He’s shoved to the side, as Yuichiro Gingerly grasped his twins hand. Hesitant at first, as if just touching him would break an illusion. But as soon as his fingertips grasped his own, he takes in a hard breath. And throws his arm over his twin’s form, pulling him gently into his own lap.

“Muichiro-“

#that got—-#long uh-#feel free to continue #if you want!!! I’m actually really excited tbh!

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

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Learning more about trauma recovery, I realized that even if we all have similar cptsd symptoms (emotional flashbacks, inner shame and guilt, abandonment issues, fear of other's negative reactions to us, fight/flight/freeze/fawn response, highly anxious behaviour, perfectionism, catastrophizing, chronic exhaustion and pain, panic attacks, struggle expressing anger, dissociation, grief, negative thinking, fear of the future, hopelessness, suicidal ideation) it's usually one or two of them that are specifically strong and tako a hold of someone's entire personality. For instance, someone will try to find a way out of fear by constantly doing more and more and try to always be perfect, another one will freeze and do nothing in a stressful situation; some will avoid people altogether, some will run from one painful relationship to another. Some might find their inner critic so powerful they get unable to do anything due to the constant shame and berating from inside of their head, and some will sink into dissociation and numbness in order to withstand being alive.

For me, it was the inner catastrophizer that was so loud, overbearing, and impossible to fight; I hadn't recognized it as a trauma symptom because I believed every bit of it was true. My imagined catastrophe was dying from lack of resources, or being tortured to death. Both felt like a very likely scenarios to happen because I do live in poverty, with minimal resources, and I've already experienced torture so it seemed like it's highly possible for it to happen again. I couldn't see that I've survived years on my own, without any help, and that I've became more resourceful than most people, or that I had saved myself from torture and kept myself safe. Every single time a minor stress would appear, I would spiral into wild scenarios of myself homeless, dying, or in unbearable pain. It would trigger a nervous breakdown, lots of flashbacks, panic attacks, and bring me to such highly anxious state I wouldn't be able to move for days. I didn't see a way out of this, I believed I was brainwashed to experience this over and over again, and panicked severely when it started getting worse.

It was only when I found out about other survivors having the exact same imagined catastrophy, I was able to see it was fake. People with jobs, friends, family, loved ones, resources and safety, were having the exact same fear of dying homeless. Circumstances don't matter to the catastrophizer, it will find a path to your worst, most painful scenario even if it's next to impossible for it to happen.

Reading the 'Complex PTSD' book, I learned that these catastrophic thoughts can and should be de-escalated and stopped in their tracks by a stream of logical, factual thoughts that challenge the unlikeliness and fakeness of the imaginary disaster. I trained my mind to do it immediately, unspeakably relieved to know it's something I can do on my own, it's do-able, it's progress I can make just by arguing with my own thoughts!

Ever since that day, I haven't allowed myself to spiral into a catastrophic thoughts once, and it's done wonders for my recovery. It was like dragging myself from the bottom of the pit to a place where I could breathe again. I only now acknowledge how extremely damaging it was on my body to be broken down like that regularly, how impossible it was to live always followed by that terror, how unreasonable it was to expect from myself to endure it. I still break down a lot, but from grief, which is healthy for me to break down about, and it doesn't throw me into a paralyzing pit of terror.

I also need to acknowledge that this is not something I'd be able to do at the beginning of the recovery; at the start I had every single symptom screaming in my face, it was all I could do to stay alive thru it all. Over the course of several years, a lot of the symptoms quieted down on their own, just because I was getting used to life in a non-abusive environment. The catastrophizer was one that kept getting bigger and more stressful as others got smaller and more manageable.

I believe most of my symptoms died down because I was allowing myself to seek out a comfort zone; giving myself a place to feel safe and not triggered by whatever, gave me a lot of peace, a refuge to hide in. After finding a little peace of the world I was safe in, this world began to expand, until I saw a way to have a life in it. It has its limits, of course, and if I try doing certain things I will absolutely get triggered and my well-being will be obliterated. But I'm not looking for a life where I can do everything. Only to stay alive, and to not be in terror. It's a humble yet very complicated desire for a traumatized person to have.

I no longer have to actively stop my catastrophic thoughts; my brain now does it for me. If I start spiraling, a voice in my head will go 'Wait a minute, that doesn't sounds realistic, isn't it more likely x will happen and it will be okay? Come on, you don't have to be terrified about this, because it's not real. It will be okay, and here's every single instance where a similar event went well for you. You will pull thru this one, and even if you don't, the consequence won't be death, or torture, or everyone alive hating you. At worst you will feel slightly bad, so it's okay to feel good now. You've done a lot to get this far. All will be well.'

And that is a very pleasant inner voice to have, and I am grateful for it. I wish so badly that I had this earlier in life, but I guess looking at my parents, there was no way.

What is your worst reoccurring symptom that stops you from progressing in your recovery? If you feel like you're at the stage where you can recognize it and talk about it, it would be beneficial for everyone recovering to read more experiences.

#trauma recovery #cptsd #complex ptsd #healing from trauma #furiousgoldfish #inner catastrophizer #inner voices #de-escalating #recovery #story

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allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

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i know, you know.

summary -> bucky would die for you, but that’s not what you want from him.

words -> 1.7k

warnings -> light angst & near death & use of nickname (sweets)

notes -> i started game of thrones & i am obsessed with the idea of medieval bucky now so add that to my wips list

»»————-　☾　————-««

Bucky has no sense of self preservation.

You’re unsure if it’s because when he was a boy he was sent to war where it wasn’t a when you come home, it was an if. Or maybe because he’s lived so long he doesn’t feel like he needs to worry about life.

At first Bucky’s martyr-like care for you had made your pulse race. Throwing himself in front of punches thrown your way and saving you from bullets by reaching out his metal arm.

Then you realized he never thought things through. He just threw himself into harms way without worrying about whether or not he would survive the action.

You’ve learned all this within the two years you’ve known him. He’s become your best friend. Something more than that too. Shared stares and secret kisses that leave your heart fluttering and skin heating.

You love him, the kind of love that bubbles under the surface of kind smiles and more than friendly touches.

The kind that leaves your leg shaking as you sit beside him now, because Bucky Barnes has been asleep for three days.

A bullet had tore through his chest and left him gasping for air and bleeding out at your feet. You had dropped beside him to your knees after sending a bullet through the attackers chest.

“Sam, you’ve got to get us out of here.” You gasp into your comms. “Bucky’s hurt.” Your hands come to rest over the wound and you press harshly against them.

You look around in panic. “You idiot.” You mumble to him. Bucky’s blinking slowly and is obviously in a daze as he tries to focus on you leaning over him. “

“I’ll die before I let someone hurt you.” Bucky whispers. Your hands are stained red and Bucky’s eyes slide shut again after he breathes the words out. You let out a choked cry as you stare down at him.

“He’ll be okay.” Sam’s hand is resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “Bucky is a fighter.”

You shake him off. “Bucky is an idiot.” You snap. Your eyes trail over his chest that’s rising and falling steadily.

‘He’s lucky.’ The doctor’s words come to your mind. ‘If it weren’t for that serum he most likely would have bled out in the field.’

You can’t stop thinking about the scene. The tips of your fingers are still stained red, the blood stubbornly refusing to wash away and remains a constant reminder of Bucky’s words in the field.

“Bucky is an idiot with no self preservation.” You start again. The words that had been caught in your throat the past three days come tumbling out like vile. “He’s selfish and doesn’t have any remorse for his choices or any idea what his actions may do to the people who care about him.”

You look at Bucky again. He doesn’t stir. His chest is still rising and falling steadily while his eyes remain closed. “I’m going to get a drink.” You push your chair our abruptly. Sam jumps away from you as you shove past him.

Guilt weighs you down immediately. You hadn’t meant to snap at Sam and you certainly didn’t mean all you said about Bucky.

It’s just - Bucky isn’t supposed to look like that. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. His skin pale and body completely immobile as he sleeps.

It has you panicking. Bucky, your Bucky, was strong and unmoving in a way that left enemies shaking. He had an aura that made you feel warm and confident with him by your side.

The hospital walls are a blank white that leave you simultaneously nauseous and comforted as you rest your back against it and shut your eyes.

Nobody stops to ask if you were okay or if you needed help, many of them too busy or preoccupied with actual patients. It was relieving to be able to have a moment of silence with nothing in your thoughts but what may be going on with the people you watched moves throughout the hospital.

How many were visitors there for a similar reason to yours? How many regular patients or who was a favorite nurse?

Sam’s voice makes you straighten out when you hear your name. You look at him apologetically, but before you can get the words out, he cuts you off. “Bucky’s awake.”

You pause. “Just like that?” You ask dumbly. You knew that this is what would happen. The doctor had explained that Bucky had been placed in an induced coma so his body could heal on it’s own and that he would wake up on his own time.

After three days though, you can’t imagine looking into Bucky’s eyes. You don’t know how to after seeing him so close to death.

“Just like that.” Sam says kindly. “I told you he was a fighter.”

You swallow thickly in an attempt to hold back tears. “I don’t… I’ll be in there soon.” You settle against the wall again.

Softly, Sam speaks, “Soon? He’s asking for you.” He tilts his head in an attempt to get you to look at him, but your eyes stay stuck to the ground. “Nobody ever said Bucky wasn’t an idiot, but he’s an idiot who cares. About you.”

“He can care about me without trying to kill himself!” You exclaim. You shoot an apologetic look toward the nurses who glance over at your voice.

There’s a beat of silence before Sam sighs. “He can. But how is supposed to know that? All Bucky has known is war, maybe in some way saving you from violence is all he knows how to do to show he cares.”

You look away again before you heave out a sigh. Your mind is a scrambled mess of panic, stress and exhaustion. All you want is to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

“I’ll give you some time.” Sam presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “Just talk to him, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly. “I will.” When you don’t move, Sam raises his eyebrows. “Just… Give me a second.” When Sam leaves you in the hallway again, you suck in a deep breath in preparation.

<- ☾ ->

“Sweets.” Bucky smiles softly when he spots you in the doorway. “Been wondering where you were.”

You look him over like you’re expecting to see him covered in blood again. “Needed some air.” You answer curtly.

Bucky watches you quietly as you move further into the room. “Something wrong?”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You avoid answering the question. Bucky notices you pause at the end of his bed and stares with furrowed brows.

When you don’t say anything else he forces out an awkward chuckle. “I’m always gonna be okay, sweets.”

“That’s not true.” You snap. You heave in a breath as Bucky watches with wide eyes. “You don’t get to just… Just wake up and be fine.”

“I am fine.” Bucky waves his hands out in front of him as if to show you. You shake your head in disbelief. “What? I am!”

“Your blood was on my hands!” You yell, shocking Bucky into silence. “You were bleeding out! Bucky, I had to watch you almost die in my arms. You don’t… You don’t get to sit here and just say you’re fine.”

“Sweets…” Bucky trails off. His eyes move over you like you’re a wild animal and he’s afraid you’ll pounce. It makes you even more upset that you look like the irrational one here.

You look away. “You were bleeding out and there was nothing I could do but watch. I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” His voice raises and you know it’s so you’ll look over at him again. “Just let them hurt you?”

There’s a moment of tense silence before you nod. “Yes.”

“I’m not doing that. I can’t and I won’t.” Bucky’s shaking his head wildly at the thought of you getting hurt. “That’s not an option.”

You scoff. You’re still standing at the end of his bed and you can’t bring yourself to move closer. Not with how angry you are at him. “What is this self-sacrificial bullshit? Who does it help?”

“You!” Bucky yells. You’re almost afraid somebody will come in to check on him and find the two of you in the midst of a fight. “I’d rather be in this bed than see you in it.”

You let out a humorless laugh, but it just ends up as an exhausted sigh. “I can’t lose you, Bucky.” You finally admit in a whisper. “I can’t… I need you here, alive.”

Bucky’s eyes soften as you looks you over. “Come here.” Your eyes grow teary as he opens his arms for you crawl in beside him. “Please, sweets. Come lay with me.”

“Bucky…” You sniffle as the beginning of a sentence trails off. You move quickly to lay beside him, careful of the wires. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

His hand runs up and down your arm as your head rests on his shoulder. “This life. My life. It’s been full of violence, I just want to protect you from it.”

“You can protect me without almost dying. I won’t watch you do this again.” You look up at him sadly, the sound of his monitor beeping steadily somehow helps you breathe calmer as you push the words out. “If you want me in your life, you’ll give up this self-sacrificing bullshit.”

Bucky shifts so he can look down at you. “What else should I do?”

“Let me fight on my own. Have faith that I can handle myself.” Your hand trails down to intertwine with his. “If I… If I ever got hurt in the field like this, I’d rather you fight for me than die for me.”

Bucky inhales sharply. “I do have faith in you.” His left hand comes up to rest on your cheek and turn you eyes to face him again. “I know you’re a good fighter. I just… I…”

“I know.” You agree. The words are clear in his eyes and the nervous smile on his face. “I just need you to promise me, no more being a martyr. I don’t need anything else right now.”

Bucky’s thumb gently runs over your cheek bone. “I promise to try.” You allow your eyes to shut as Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

There are words unspoken between you two. Things that should be said and talked about, but it can wait. You’re content to lay with him, like this, for now.

»»————-　☾　————-««

notes -> just a short bucky piece while i work on my longer fics! next part of the survivor series should be out soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes writing #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #sam wilson

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