#dead reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alicerosejensen · 10 months

Text

Mistake

Warning: death of the reader; indirect mention of Leon's infidelity.

This is a re-posting since my account was blocked on the same day I posted this.

It was a mistake to let you go alone. It was a mistake to believe that a stupid trip would end well and you would return to his house unharmed. And that was his mistake.

Leon holds you in his arms and the noble ladies from the old portraits look disapprovingly at the one he dared to save. You can feel his firm grip on your hip and under your armpit as he carries you to the evacuation site with a pale, cold-blooded face down which tears are flowing. What should he feel besides the searing pain in his chest from just your bloody appearance? Through the veil you hear his strangled wheeze and quiet orders not to dare to die. His fingers dig deeper into your once tender skin when you feel the cool breeze blowing under your dirty white shirt, the only thing left for you besides underwear. The hair was tangled because of blood and dirt, but for Leon it was all so unimportant. He kept carrying you to save you, promising himself that you wouldn't die.

Not having the strength to scream, you would like to regret your last stupid quarrel because of which you left him because of the influx of stupid jealousy. But you just didn't have the strength to go back to your sad life anymore. Leon's jacket still warmed your body, but the stopped heart suggested that you left this world plunging into a dark space, black as the night itself, thickened in the sky where there is no longer any heat, heat, pain or abyss.

It's a nice strange feeling when death enchants you.

And now you are like a fallen petal of a rare flower, floating between the seasons. If either of you understood each other well, you and Leon would never have parted. But when Leon, after a few shouts of your name, squeezes you in his arms, he realizes that you have gone limp… his heart stops.

You left him alone. Sad and lonely.

"Don't you dare die!" Leon is screaming out of breath, trying to get your heart to beat again. As if, having heard him somewhere from the outside, you felt such pity for him. He put so much effort into finding and saving you. All the last few months of imprisonment were like a requiem before a fateful finale without a happy ending. Leon hugs you to his chest, trying to share his warmth; kisses your thin wrists and dirty face to return to your embrace and kind love. This feeling of hopelessness in his chest was never like what he experienced when Simmons attacked Ada.

He realized that he had lost you.

"Sweetheart" Leon tucked his blood-soaked hair behind his ear. Your hand is in his. Sticky and cold where the wrist does not feel the pulse. "forgive me..."

It was your ticket to hell. With all these terrifying bloody rides for a stupid girl who knows how to hold a gun, just because at the beginning of the relationship Leon took the liberty of taking you to the shooting range. No physical or psychological training. Even if you hadn't died, your brain would have turned into a recurring nightmare for the rest of your life. Fortunately, like any attraction, everything tends to end, and the road to hell led you to the gates of paradise with a white ocean, cool water and complete silence where a small flimsy boat was ready to take you to the other shore.

To your personal paradise. In which there are no mutated monsters, no blood, no pain from wounds, no deaths, no Leon Scott Kennedy, who previously broke your heart.

You've seen enough to make the desire to live leave you, but Leon kept trying to make your heart beat with useless indirect heart massage. You went to the deep bottom, as if she had never been with him and did not love him. Leon's tears are dripping on your cheeks, laying clean paths, washing away dirt and blood from you. The human brain lives for about five minutes after death and your precious seconds are almost running out. This man tore you into a thousand pieces and now he's holding you to him, but it should have been done before. The eternal scarlet sunset would never have caught up with you if the day before your trip and on the day of the quarrel Leon grabbed you in his arms, chaining you to him with hot hugs without letting you go anywhere.

This horror could have been prevented.

But when you were thrown like a mangy puppy, he cherished his love for Ada Wong. No one knows what happens in those last moments when the soul leaves the body, but that very last second of your life without hearing or seeing him, you wanted him to be as hurt as you were when you found out the truth.

One single second before your feet dipped into the water and you got into the boat, and your wish was fulfilled…

You died in the middle of the night, despite the fact that you loved him very much anyway. Every creature has a mate but you don't have anything else. Let anyone but you be Leon's mate from now on. Before that ill-fated quarrel, you could even die for him, only Leon would quickly move away from your unnecessary sacrifice.

How monsters surrounded you from all sides and the light of your soul was extinguished forever. Then why did you continue to love his light half-smile and the expensive suit in which you first met him until the end? It is always cold outside, but inside of which sabantuy is raging. Leon is a man who often contradicted himself and you're just unlucky that he didn't dare to push you away.

There was no point in saving you anymore, but Leon continued to carry your body, pressing it closer to him, as if you were just unconscious and his legs were failing him, as if you were an unbearable burden, although before he always carried you lightly in his arms. He won't have a chance at redemption and he'll always live with the guilt of your death. But if you were alive, Leon thinks that you would be sarcastic to him right now, like Ada would be able to comfort him. And Leon is angry even though he knows it's stupid. You're silent in his arms.

He doesn't care how dirty you are. He kisses your face, squeezing your wrists tightly and for some reason trying to warm you up. His lips will imprint a kiss between eyes, temples, cheeks and lips themselves, leaving him a salty taste of blood. Leon catches you comfortably so that his jacket does not fly off you. your face is pressed against his shoulder, but he's not looking anymore. He thinks that maybe there will be a first aid kit in the helicopter from which there will be no sense. And even when they're taken away, Leon doesn't give you to anyone. He strokes your hair, begging the medic in his team to do something, but she looks at him with an indifferent look and then at the gaping wound on your chest and is silent, realizing that their captain has in fact already brought a corpse.

But in the end, you still end up in a corpse bag where they put you right away, taking you out of Leon's hands. No matter how he tried to take you back, he was not allowed. You didn't have time to see the sunlight and Leon feels like he let you down. Did not save. Shouted at the doctors, shouted at those who without regret stuffed you into this black cloth with a lock hiding from him like those scoundrels who ruined you. And then when everyone cooled down, he was simply confronted with the fact.

If dead, then the body belongs to forced sterilization.

But Leon won't even get your ashes... as if you kept torturing him while he drowned his pain in a bottle, breaking all the glasses. He kept your chiffon scarf close to him on purpose so he could smell you. His weakness... he just wanted you around again.

And all because of one damn mistake he made.

852 notes · View notes

10liver · 6 months

Text

If you died, Katsuki's heart and soul would be crushed. Even worse if he was the reason why.

Ever since you passed away from that one accident, he's never been the same. He's officially retired as a pro hero, locking himself up in the very same four walls that used to be your shared room. Now, it's just a soulless, empty pit of what it used to be.

He's cut off all of his friends, even Kirishima to the best of his abilities. He'd barely eat, only eating when Kirishima would get fed up enough to literally shove food down his throat.

The only thing on his mind was you and you only. Your future, your future kids, how you'd look if you aged. Your smile lingered in his brain every time it could to the point where all he could do was curl up and sob, wishing you were here and alive.

He wanted to see you again. He needed to see you again.

And so, he did.

#ao3 #fanfic #my writing #bnha #anime #oneshot #mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #angst #heavy angst #tw death #pro hero bakugo x reader #dead reader #sad brain rot

284 notes · View notes

meguminne · 7 months

Text

Love, Lost and Wandered࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

dainleif is scared of forgetting you, he would traverse the cursed plains of the irminsul to remember you. — cursed grounds that belonged to one of those damned archons just to remember you. his curse now includes you as well. im gonna be honest and tell you straight up idk how the irminsul or dainsleif work and whether or not this is accurate to their lore, i just want to write a devoted lover dain who’s willing to beg to the archons for reader like that one questline. also!! reblogs and follows are very appreciated as it lets me know you guys enjoy my writing!! . (reader x dainsleif) oct. 15 2023 part one (?)

dainsleif is too ashamed to admit this aloud but he finds himself forgetting you. who once was his most precious, his beloved; your voice, your laugh, even your smile. — the gods are merciless but were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from turning you into the hilichurls doomed to wander the earth, loyal only to their most primal instincts. they were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from the curse of immortality, the pain of living and unable to die. he wonders which fate would have been better for the both of you, but he does believe death has been the most merciful outcome.

the only thing he has of you is the memory of your name, the love he can’t forget, and the dreams you’ve left with him. — but they’re not immune to the weathering of time. he finds himself slipping, forgetting the little things that complete your image, the treasures he salvaged from the remnants of his home broken down with the centuries that came with immortality and the dreams you held with him now seem blurry as though he couldn’t fathom to sleep and dream without you. it’s been eons and yet he still hasn’t gotten used to your absence beside him.

when fate is kind enough to grant him the time to paint, his mind goes over to the idea of you and he seems to get the gist of your frame, your figure but your face only seems to be drawn as a mixture of swirls, indescribable and indistinguishable from the fog that surrounds the memory of you.

as much as he hated to admit it, he was slowly forgetting you.

but he’s not ready yet, to forget you is to let you die once and for all. he’s the only one who holds the memory of you and if he forgets, you’re gone forever. — amidst the false gods, their endless pride and the heavens; you were the angel that almost made dainsleif believe in divinity.

he’s desperate to maintain that memory of you, to keep you alive and beside him to the best of his ability for forgetting you might doom to an eternity of restless living cursed only for vengeance.

dainsleif was desperate enough to keep that memory of you that he was willing to trek onto the irminsul, the ‘sacred’ grounds of the dendro archon that records say remembers everything. the memories stored within the ley lines that have touched all of teyvat, the ley lines that rooted itself deep beneath the grounds; roots that listened to every drop of rain, whisper and wind. — he was willing to traverse and resort to the divinities he loathed just to remember you. whether it’s be by force, or if he had to kneel, beg and grovel at the archon’s feet just to be welcomed into the dreamlike plains; he would do it for his pride was nothing next to his devotion for you.

the only obstacle now was whether or not the archon, buer was willing to let a khaenri'ahn survivor step foot into the holy grounds. — or if he could even ask for help from the traveler..

#meguminne #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #dainsleif angst #genshin fluff #khaenri'ah #genshin fanfic #just a little drabble #not lore accurate #i love dainsleif #dains x reader #genshin impact x reader #irminsul #devoted lover #dead reader

200 notes · View notes

m1d-45 · 1 year

Note

Heheehee would love to see venti post-imposter au like that one u did for zhongli...I love guilt >:)))) and thank u, u r amazing!!!!

unnamed poem, unnamed bard

a/n: wrote a whole poem for this. hope you enjoy <3

-> warnings: reader is dead. reader is a literal corpse and is described and referred to as such. major spoilers for mondstat archon quest, the most microscopic spoilers for liyue archon quest.

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

‘the creator is the highest god across every nation.’

seven sets of eyes stared at the body in front of them, at the arrow shot through it’s throat. several other wounds crossed the body, but none were as lethal as the first.

‘they have created everything, from the clouds-‘

angry gray rippled across the sky, thunder crackling in the distance. the storm had been brewing all day, and now the reason why was clear.

‘-to the air-‘

wind howled and cried, whipping through hair and pulling at clothes. one of the ties around venti’s braids had been ripped away, the hair beginning to unravel in the gale. still, even as nahida clutched at focalor’s cloak to stay standing—poor girl, she’d been trying to convince her—the clothes on the corpse were still.

‘-to the earth beneath our feet.’

blood seeped into the ground below, shimmering even in the dim light filtering through the clouds. the brick pattern below had shining blue for grout, blood tracing a spiderweb out.

‘they are only to be adored with the highest of veneration.’

thin hands shook around the handle of a bow, painted nails digging into the grip. barbatos’ eyes are wide, teal, unblinking gaze staring at the body as if it would magically come back to life. as if it would reach, pull out the arrow, as if it would sit up and chide him for behaving so rashly. it doesn’t.

‘after all…’

amber eyes search for purple, then red, black gloves tightening around the geo lord’s weapon. he was not without sin, having also participated in the chase—none were truly pure, none truly deserved any form of forgiveness except for maybe nahida.

‘it is they to which we owe our lives.’

seven chests heaved with a variety of emotions—adrenaline, contrition, horror—but an eighth was oddly regular. blank, lifeless eyes, matching the color of the ones on the corpse, curved with a smile. well done! they cheered, silent pride shining in the dim light.

‘they are stronger than steel.’

“who are you?”

the gritted voice of the pyro archon shattered the fragile silence.

“me?”

‘brighter than the sun.’

the false god put a hand to their chest, the fake shock on their face not hiding their glee. “well, i’m your god, aren’t i?”

‘with their iron-strong will,’

six hands tightened on weapons. one set let go of cloth, small stature still brimming with anger.

‘eons long work begun.’

new blood stained the dirt, red instead of divine blue. the fake’s body jerked, elemental reactions dancing across their skin as their body fell to the floor. superconduct burned out their eyes, overload locked up their lungs, quicken sped up the rate at which blood flowed from their veins. frozen pinned their still-twitching body to floor as they slowly died.

the gods almost wished that it had taken them longer to die. they certainly didn’t deserve a quick death.

‘they forged the valleys and plains.’

seven voices united by the covered body of their god, undivided by worldly squabbles. grudges and bitterness fell away, if only for now, seven heads bowed on seven sets of knees. even nahida, innocent as she was, had knelt alongside them here. seven prayers were lifted on seven tongues, some wavering, all weak. the scenery did little to distract when they knew they had slaughtered it’s maker.

‘mountains shaped, clouds retained.’

the burial was silent, only the sound of dirt against dirt breaking the solemn air. shimmering jade rose from the earth, obsidian lettering carving out their sin. seven were too weak to continue standing, seven sets of tears beginning to fall. seven asked for forgiveness.

‘as night turned to day turned to night again,’

none would receive it.

‘their last creation made, to their own world they ascend.’

grass and flowers were quick to grow over the unsettled dirt, risking quick uprooting for the chance to get closer. seven hearts burned. seven souls screamed.

drinks hit their tables with loud bangs. ‘who are you, bard?” a man called. ‘where have you heard such things?’

barbatos was the first to flee, unable to bear feeling their aura so long after their death. his wide wings flapped erratically, all of his usual grace lost as tears blurred his vision. the cuffs of his shirt clung to his skin, droplets of blue already staining to matter how hard he tried to scrub it out. it refused to even smudge.

he tucked his wings in and dove, barely even trying to slow his fall once he got closer to the ground, not feeling the pain in his feet. he stumbled once, twice, then collapsed at the foot of his own anemo statue.

the boy laughed, the teal on his nails matching the mirth in his eyes.

barbatos’ chest heaved, the air he commands abandoning him in his time of need. the peaceful breeze of windrise couldn’t hide the uneven beats of his heart, the cool stone behind him not soothing the burn on his face. he could see them, the golden chains of his crimes, already encircling his arms. the fingers that pulled the string stiffened with shining rings, too tight to be comfortable, his opposite palm already beginning to glow. some scrap of his consciousness mourned how it would affect his ability to play, to drink, to move, the unforgiving chains binding his actions.

the larger majority mourned his god.

‘you can call me venti.’

#*kicks down your doors* HEY YALL EVER HEARD OF PARALLELISM #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin #genshin impact #sagau impostor au #sagau zhongli #sagau venti #sagau ei #sagau raiden shogun #self aware genshin #genshin self aware au #ever-thankful that poetry is one of my hobbies 🙏🙏 how would i write my rhyme-loving bard otherwise?#venti angst #tw death #death tw #tw: death #dead reader #this. exhausts the idea of you being dead. gotta be safe abt it #this was meant to be a drabble involving the karma idea i had on… i wanna say ‘the scottish play’?#nope it was ‘death rebirth new life’.#but i recognize it covers everything but the karma… so..#may or may not elaborate on this in the future? like with you being revived/isekai’d and he’s very teary and repentful #or maybe he refuses to even get close? unwilling to allow you to be harmed by him once more even as his chains start to cinch his lungs-#ok i need to stop before i write an essay in the tags #(but what if he /zhongli went to the grave to pay respects only to find it empty? what if THAT????)#guess who forgot a TITLE!!#edit was that i added one: it’s shit but i needed something for the m. list

683 notes · View notes

callsignfangs · 4 months

Text

The 141 boys as widowers. (bc i feel like torturing myself /j)

141 x late (implied) spouse! reader

cws: grief, mentions of loss, implied alcoholism/alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions self-destructive behaviour, very brief mention of addiction, etc (Please lmk if I've missed anything!)

(Note: This little drabble is a little self indulgent, a bit about my own journey with grief. Each little 'story' thing does end with acceptance. Please don't read if you're not in the right headspace, and remember that you're loved and you're not alone, and make sure to reach out if you need help <3)

Price is the one inclined to bargaining. Maybe he could've done something - what if he'd taken a bit more time off work, what if he spent more time with you, what if he'd agreed to retire early with you, what if he was there? Ironically enough - he just ends up drowning himself in more work, probably turns to smoking or alcohol in an attempt to drown everything out.

141, Gaz and Soap especially, will definitely be the only thing he holds on for. As capable as they all are, he couldn't just up and leave his boys without a captain - he couldn't make the same mistake over again, they gave him something to care for, to nurture and to look after.

I don't think he'll ever marry again - just making half-hearted attempts to peek into the dating scene whenever leave got especially lonely. He'd never be able to find anyone quite like you, so he eventually stopped bothering with it, finding warmth and comfort in himself and the other people he loved.

He keeps a photo of you, one of your handwritten notes, and any little trinket you'd given him at all times. Saved every single snippet of you talking he could - even still paying off your phone bill occasionally ringing your phone to hear your voicemail message, maybe sending you texts when things got especially hard. Definitely does chores the exact way you always did - from the time you went out to shop in the morning to how you stacked dishes. Loves hot showers but still takes a lukewarm one each morning because your habit of taking cold showers meant the water was never hot enough for him. I think he probably adopts something after the rough edges of the hole you'd left in his heart smoothed over.

It wasn't intentional in the slightest - maybe a stray cat had clung to his pant leg while he was on a hike or the task force managed to pick up an orphaned little kid on one of their excursions. He's very hesitant with them, still not quite trusting himself with caring for another being. But he warms up to them eventually. No matter human or animal, they've definitely been brought to your gravesite once or twice.

Maybe it would be alright, eventually. He'd at least have something interesting to entertain you with the next life he found you.

Soap is definitely in denial. Convinces himself it's a mistake - that when deployment's finally over, he'll trudge home, kick off his boots, and be met by his sweet love, bouncing at his heels like an overeager puppy and lathering his face in flittering little kisses. He still avoids coming home like the plague - resorts to anything from taking on way too many missions, to picking up another job on the side, even to staying in hotels as if he was in some sort of covert op.

He'd be forced to go back to your house eventually, though. Not home, it wasn't home without you there. Just the same four walls and roof he camped out in on deployment. Nothing warm or special about it.

He still pretended, though. Made your bed every morning the way you liked it and prepared meals for two every day.

While Price and Ghost undoubtedly pulled him out of his slump, Gaz was the person who really started him on the road to acceptance. Having the boys over near constantly was soothing, giving him something to occupy his mind with and overshadowing the cold emptiness of the house. The occasional cuddle piles and game nights reminded him of the warmth of their bond - like the nights they spent on stakeouts, letting their own sweet joy shield them from the brutal realities of their situation.

Gaz was the first person he cried to. Soap couldn't bear the way his buzzed sides were starting to fluff out, but he'd slowly gotten used to letting your gentle hands preen him and tidy him up. Of course, Gaz had noticed, and of course, he'd insisted that Soap just had to let him have a go at doing up someone else's hair. Soap didn't know when he'd devolved into tears - somewhere between the first gentle touch he'd felt in weeks and the crippling realisation that you'd never be there to do it again.

Either way, he'd managed to cry himself to sleep in Gaz's arms that night. He continued to sob himself away for weeks, filling each day with tears.

Until each day turned into each few.

And each few turned into once a week.

And slowly, his tears dried up.

It was an arduous process, grieving. But he stubbornly forced through it, just as he'd forced his way into your heart.

And he did his very best not to change. He determinedly kept the mohawk - even used the same shampoo because it made his hair feel perfectly fluffy under your touch. He did his best to continue being his perky, bubbly self, because he knew how you practically basked in his energy.

However, he still let himself grow, let his hawk grow out so he could braid it the way he'd always considered, and he let himself have his bad days, didn't force himself to keep up his energy when he didn't really have enough.

Admittedly, though, he never married again. He found temporary enjoyment in little flings, though he let them pass when the time was right. No matter what, he always came back to your house.

Sure, it wasn't quite home without you there. But you'd been there - no matter how little the time you'd had together felt in hindsight - so maybe he could learn to make it home again. For you.

Gaz is angry - furious to the point of enraged tears. If it was him? He'd understand. He'd hurt people, torn apart lives and taken his fair share of them. He deserved it. But you? It wasn't fair. In his eyes, you couldn't possibly hurt a fly, so delicate and tender and so, so soft. It just wasn't fair.

His attempt at coping is to delve headfirst into a tedious slew of missions - one after another after another. It gives him something to dump all his blind rage and hurt and desperation into. His morals were a writhing, flailing, unrecognisable mess for a long time, and the best comfort he could find was in the chaotic monotony of work.

So what if he burned everything in his path to ash? At least the threat was dealt with.

Price and Ghost are the most essential to his recovery. He needs guidance, needs some sort of structure, and needs to relinquish the tight hold on his need to be good, to fix things, to help, to finally restore what he was so reliant on, even if that meant tearing himself to shreds in the process. What he needs is time to grieve, time to come to terms with the unforgiving reality - that it just happened. No-one did anything wrong, there was no violence or intent, it just happened.

He'll absolutely come to deeply regret everything he did in his grief-induced warpath, but eventually accept that he was hurt and lost and just needed the help - the intervention.

Like Price, I think he might attempt to put himself out there and find someone new every once in a while, maybe even builds up to a couple dates, but he never really finds interest in anyone. He definitely remains friends with many of the people he meets, but he just can't quite find a spark - mainly because they're not you.

He never throws out anything of yours, his wardrobe is still mostly full of random articles of your clothing, and the third drawer on the nightstand is still yours.

He always wears something of yours when he goes out, from shirts and shorts to hoodies, even some of your jewelry.

Despite it being admittedly pretty late, he finally watches all of the shows you liked and reads all the books you did. It makes him feel closer to you - cuddling up under your favourite blanket in your favourite spot and picturing you being there with him, imagining each and every one of your reactions, practically seeing your lovely face curl with smiles as you commentated over the whole thing.

Sure, you weren't really there with him anymore, but the sweet, warm mark you'd left on his heart was enough to carry him over until he inevitably returned to you.

Ghost is mostly depressed. He's so agonisingly hurt and lost, but you were his sun - what gave him life and love, and without you? He just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything beyond simply existing. Even he'd expected himself to crash and burn - follow in his brother's footsteps and drown in a spiral of addiction. But he just... Didn't. The affirmation that he didn't blow up and take everyone he loved down with him would be reassuring, comforting, but it wasn't. Not without you whispering praise in his ear, assuring him of his goodness and softness.

I think he'd also be reliant on Soap and Gaz, but Price would be a surprisingly big factor as well. No-one could ever really replicate the effect you had on him, the way your encouragement kept him going, but having some amount of structure, of motivation? It helped. Despite that, he absolutely tried to push them out at first, convinced that the acrid shadow of death looming over his shoulder would eventually take them as well. What are task force 141 if not determined and unfathomably stubborn, though, especially when it came to caring for their own.

Soap undoubtedly led the charge - seeing as his ceaseless energy and affection were mildly more normal (god knows Simon needed a little bit of comforting normalcy). Gaz came second, still snarky and headstrong as ever, but with softened edges and an air of gentle care. Price was last. He'd been there before Simon was Ghost, he was aware enough to piece bits of his past together - and he'd be damned if he managed to scare Simon, if he was the reason he regressed further. So he was tender. Delicate, even. Ghost would despise being handled like fragile porcelain in Price's kid gloves, but it soothed a part of Simon that hadn't peeked out since you left.

It'll take a bit longer than the others - more therapy, reassurance and care, but he'll recover eventually, let the wound you left in his porous heart scar over and go on as best he could.

I don't think he'll look for romance again either - his interest in it just died out alongside you. He wants to preserve the sanctity and tenderness of what you had, and is more than content with holding that love in his heart, and keeping it safe for you until he meets you again.

After you're gone, he attempts to follow your advice more, occasionally dragging himself out of his comfort zone, picking up new hobbies and trying to emulate your passion for life in himself, keeping a little bit of you alive with him. He absolutely douses the house in your favourite fragrance, refuses to use any hygiene products other than yours and carries something of yours everywhere, whether it be your ring or even your purse, just something to remind him he had to look after things (including himself) for you.

Even if you were cremated or buried in some other way, he'd ensure there was a gravestone for you placed alongside his mother, Tommy, Beth and little Joseph. You'd always be part of his family - his heart, and when his time came? He'd be buried alongside you, trailing along with you into whatever came next. By your side forever.

Yippee. This was. A journey. /lh

Sorry if this isn't formatted the best, it was more of a massive brain dump that I forcibly shoved into something just about understandable lol

If you're seeing this, tyvm for reading mwah 😚😚

#task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #angst #angst with like. acceptance?#grief #tw grief #dead reader #141 boys being sad #i maybe cried a little when writing this.#just a little #(i wept)#(multiple times)#brain dump #fangs drabbles

75 notes · View notes

bugsmunched · 5 months

Text

💔And I'm so sorry that I failed you || Peter parker X DEAD ! GN! Reader

Summary: Peter visits Y/N's gravesite and tells them everything that they've missed since they've been gone.

Contents: dead reader, mentions of death, Peter couldn't save reader, hurt/no comfort, angst

Word Count: 1.1 k

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

It was a perfectly gloomy day, clouds looming over New York City, the occasional drizzle falling down onto the people of the bustling city. Peter sighed, head pressed against the glass of the car window, flowers clutched in his hands resting in his lap. They were Y/n's favorite flowers, and he took them every time he visited them. Most of his visits were short, as he couldn't bring himself to stay there for more than a few minutes at a time, but today was different. Today was the one-year anniversary of their death, and Peter thought that deserved to know everything that they had missed since being gone.

He blamed himself for their death. It had been during the fight with Harry Osborn, they had fallen off the clock tower and he tried to save them, but they were falling too fast and their spine and neck snapped as they were caught by the web. There was no way he could've saved them, but he always blamed himself for their death. The truth was, he was in love with them, but he never got the chance to say it, they died before he was brave enough to say three simple words. He hated himself for being such a coward.

He was broken out of his thoughts as May placed a hand on his shoulder, "We're here, sweetheart. Remember, we'll stay as long as you need to, okay?" she said softly, rubbing his shoulder as he sat up straight, hands shaking a little bit. "Want me to stay in here so you can talk to them in private?"

"Please." Peter said softly, looking at his aunt with a broken smile. He opened the car door and stepped out, the cold air hitting his face. He started to walk over to their grave, hands shaking more as he felt his heart rate accelerate. He could feel tears forming already in his eyes, just at the idea of seeing their grave. He had never made it more than three minutes without bursting into tears, and today every single emotion of his was heightened.

He finally arrived at their grave and sighed, leaning down and placing the flowers on their tombstone. "Hey, Y/n, how've you been?" he asked, a broken smile forming on his face. "I know, it's been a few weeks since we've seen each other, I've been busy, doing Spider-Man stuff...saving the city. " His words were shaky and his breathing was uneven. " I've also been avoiding you, I know, how cruel of me. " he said with a broken laugh.

"It just hurts to not hear your voice anymore, to not be able to see your smile or hold you in my arms. I've managed to last a whole year so far, but god, it's been so hard." He said as tears fell free, streaming down his face. "Look at me, I'm already crying like a baby." he attempted to joke, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. "Must be record timing. Haven't even been here a minute." He said softly, sniffling and trying to stifle his sobs.

"Anyway, I know i don't normally stay here that long, but since it's been a year, I thought you should know everything that you've missed since you...passed. " he muttered, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a list.

"May is going to nursing school again, she's passing all of her classes. I'm so proud of her for pursuing her dreams. She's close to graduating." He said, a tear falling down onto the paper and smudging some of the words.

"Gwen got into Oxford, she's been doing really good there. She's gonna come and visit you sometime soon, a special trip just to see you. Isn't that great?" He asked, wiping his tears and snot from his face once again.

"I still haven't picked out a college yet- I know, how stupid of me. I have so much potential and I shouldn't waste it. it's just hard to think about leaving you behind. " He choked out, the paper in his hands quivering because his hands were shaking so badly.

"That deli you really liked- it has a sandwich named after you, it's your favorite sandwich to order from that place. Mr. Wayne told me to tell you that he misses your smile, and your tips. " He said with a broken laugh. "He thought you'd laugh at that. "

" I tried getting a tattoo in your honor, found out that my skin heals too fast to get one. It was gone in a few days, unfortunately. So I just wear a necklace with your picture instead. It's cheesy, you'd hate it. " He smiled softly, biting back more sobs. He folded the paper back up, stuffing it into his pocket as the trickle of tears turned into a downpour, sobs escaping his mouth.

"I miss you. Every day I miss you. Every day I look in the mirror and ask, 'why couldn't I save them?' Every day I regret telling you that I'm Spider-Man. Every single damn day I regret becoming Spider-Man. The mask is a painful reminder that no matter how many people I save, I can never make up for who I lost. But I can't stop saving people. It's just not in my nature." He muttered out, falling down to his knees in front of the grave.

" But I would give it all away, just to be able to see you one last time, to be able to hold you in my arms and feel you against me, one last time. To be able to crack a joke and hear you laugh and see you smile one last time. To be able to hear your voice, one last time. I would give up everything I have to be able to see you again. To be able to say a proper good-bye. " he sobbed out, just letting it all out.

"I don't deserve to wear the mask. I'm just a coward hiding under the guise of someone strong. Hiding beneath the powers, but they don't make me brave. I couldn't even tell you three simple words. I couldn't tell you how I felt about you. " He closed his eyes tightly, feeling small drops of rain begin to fall from the sky onto his hands and face.

"Every day I'm plagued by words I couldn't say. But I think it's finally time I say them. Y/n L/n, I love you. I always have, and I'm so sorry that I failed you."

#tasm peter x reader #dead reader #angst #peter parker angst #peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #spiderman

53 notes · View notes

misstycloud · 1 year

Text

Yandere!husband x dead!reader

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Character: Emmet Von Arnoult

Summary: Not being able to take your passing, your devoted husband made the decision to do what he knew you’d oppose of; wake you again. Though what he didn’t think of at first, was that things would not go back to normal even if he’d manage to get you back.

———————

The fresh air greeted your senses as you stepped outside for the first time in many weeks. The day was sunny and a warm breeze swept past in a hurry, it lifted the hem of your long skirt. You moved your hand to press it down again and as you did another hand engulfed your own in a comforting hold.

You glanced up to look at the man walking beside you in a peaceful manner, he smiled at you and linked your arms together. His blonde strands flowed gently in the wind and made them seem even softer. You followed his pace and the two of you ended up on a marble bench.

The man still held around you when you sat, like he wanted to help you do it. After making sure you were seated he also lowered himself on the cold bench, not once letting go of you. The greenery surrounding you was a pleasant scene compared to the dark walls of the room you were constantly confined in.

Okay, it was not all the time but t sure felt like it with all of his overbearing emotions he unloaded on you. While you understood why he did it, you thought it was wrong.

Everything was wrong. With him. With the large house you lived in. And most of all, you. You weren't anything like normal people. Hell, you didn't even know if you still classified as a person. If you put a hand to your chest, you wouldn't experience the thumping sensation others did.

It would be completely silent. Completely and utterly dead. Though it had gone a couple months since you first woke up in this world, you hadn't gotten used to the fact that you were not alive. Not anymore at least.

But you definitely were once. It was evident through the paintings with your image hanging around in the house. The paintings that also contained the very man who relaxed next to you. When you first wandered through the home you quickly took notice to the art and how close and loving his grasp on you was. It was clear he deeply loved you. You however did not appear to share his emotions in the same grade.

In your painting you wore a neutral expression in correlation to his happy smile. Despite him telling you the two of you were happily married, you speculated that wasn’t your reality then. It was his. In his mind he’d fabricated that you were very much in love.

“It is beautiful this time of year. Everything comes to life again after enduring the harsh winter cold, do you not agree, love?”

“Ah, yes.” you said and turned your gaze away from him. You wasn’t entirely comfortable with him yet. You thought about his words and thought that everything indeed comes back to life, everything except you.

“You loved the summer,-“ he kissed your hand, “and it was a blessing to see you smile in delight as the cherry tree blossomed. You were so beautiful standing there with all those pink petals falling in your hair.”

The man whose name was Emmett Von Arnoult sighed in bliss remembering memories of the past. The past where you and him were married, husband and wife. A life you do not know of. No matter the proof he turned up with you could not believe all those things had happened. Your recollection was devoid of your life.

A couple months ago you had woken up on the floor to a dimly lit room. The dark walls caging you in had candlesticks and white stearin candles sat safely in them. They were not the only source of light within the room, there were more candles on the floor. Slightly twitching your finger you felt a wet substance underneath you, though you could not figure out what it was because you found it difficult to move.

Being conscious enough to hear, you realised that you were not alone in the dark room. Slowly opening your eyes you could spot a figure not far away. They sat hunched over on the floor, something on the ground was drawing all their focus and they spoke in hurried whispering motions. But they stopped and quickly looked up, gaze meeting yours. The person let out a desperate cry and crawled over to you.

The person was Emmet-though you didn’t know it yet- and had shakily asked if it really was you while being a blubbering mess. You couldn’t answer of course, it was like you’d been drained of every last bit of energy you had and left as a hollow shell. Emmet had them muttered to himself ‘it worked, it worked, it actually worked!’ At the time you didn’t know what he was talking about but you got to know that very soon.

You were dead. It was that simple. Died and come back, that was your story.

When you were still alive you were Emmets wife, Lady Von Arnoult. Regardless that your heart was no longer beating your husband nonetheless was hellbent on acting as if things were normal. They weren’t, you were fucking dead for gods sake!

You didn’t know if that was even the worst part. All your memories had gone when you did it seemed. So when Emmet had declared himself the love of your life you were quite surprised one could say.

Maybe you did feel an inch of love for him once, but now all you had for him was indifference. You were grateful to him, yes. For all that he has given to you and how he's taken care of you. Yet, you could not force yourself to regard him in any greater emotion.

“My love,-“ the man next to you sheepishly smiled as he spoke. You knew where this was gonna go, “do you perhaps….recall anything?Now that you have witnessed one of our favourite places.”

Emmet has tried to get your memory back since the moment you opened your eyes again. It didn’t matter what you tried, nothing you did ever worked. It was weird pretending things were like they were before and you started getting tired of his suffocating affection, you didn't want it. You'd rather 'live' the rest of your days away from there.

"No, sorry."

He tensely smiled, "It is alright, we can not expect everything to return so quickly."

'That's what you said the last time too.'

A half hour later Emmet stood up and said you should probably get back inside, he didn't want you to get sick. "Shall we go inside, the sky is turning darker and I do not want you to have a cold."

You nearly scoffed at the sentence, as if you could get infected.

Herding you into your shared room on the upper floor, he made you wait for him to finish some work, a reluctant frown on his lips. Your husband had early established that he would not leave you alone unless he absolutely had to, the man said he didn't want you to be lonely, however you could easily see through his claims. The truth was that he didn't want others to have the chance of running into you.

It showed that he knew of the consequences of what he'd done, what he'd created through dark magic, a monster and a creature that should not exist. You. At best they'd imprison him, and at worst he'd end up like you six feet under.

In scenario that happened, what would they do to you. To them Emmet was a horrid criminal and an enemy, but what would the living think of you then? As much as you disliked admitting it you needed Emmet in many ways.

As you laid there on the soft bed, you thought about how it would be to live apart from Emmet, to live freely. As free as you could be in your condition that is. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could convince him to let you go. You didn't count on it though, why would he ever let you go.

Why would he let go of the person he'd sacrificed everything for?

262 notes · View notes

callimaria · 2 years

Text

i’ll rickroll you, even in death /j

warnings: death

characters: free choice

their hand trailed over your face, brushing a strand of hair out of the way. their fingers deftly felt around your face as they closed their eyes, struggling to take a deep breath. they could have choked, if they let themselves feel just a bit more.

but they can’t, they won’t; they’re staying strong because you couldn’t stay strong. they’re staying strong for you rather than themselves (but that was a lie, wasn’t it?) because you wanted them to stand tall, stand proud.

you were proud of them. but for what? what did they ever do to deserve you? what did they deserve to be touched by your kindness, showered in the light you held, that you had no idea you held. they were a dirty sinner, begging for forgiveness — maybe, from another sinner.

this world was cruel and never shed a merciful tear over anything mankind did.

maybe you were cruel too.

so cruel as to let them believe, let them hold, let them adore you — it was a cruel trick you pulled, having them fall in love with you.

good things were never meant to last, that’s all.

a small, broken whisper escapes from the thoughts — pleas — locked away inside.

“please don’t go,” they begged. “don’t.”

silence.

it was silence that greeted them, yet they held you closer, feeling as if even the silence was judging them. judging them for not keeping you alive, for failing to have you stay by their side.

they squeeze your hand tight, missing the warmth that was once there. even if you complained when your hands were cold, they felt it. it was a feeling that lasted too short.

you were sick, weren’t you?

too sick. you were left without a cure.

and now their only cure is gone now.

💗

they sat there, blankly staring at the wall. a small tune; a familiar melody of nostalgia, tainted with emptiness.

long ago, the words that accompanied the harmonies could make them feel warm.

now they only feel as cold, as cold as time left you.

no i didn’t mean to make angst

also yes i did include genshin in the tags but don’t expect me to write for it 👍🏼

#x reader #angst #dead reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #identity v #idv #idv x reader #identity v x reader #twst angst #idv angst #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst

180 notes · View notes

fandomizer · 1 year

Text

𝑫ø𝒘𝒏 𝑩𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒚

Angst, Songfic

Tony Stark x daughter! Reader

TW: Character death

╔═══════════════════╗

𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕽𝖔𝖙

[𝑫ø𝒘𝒏 𝑩𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒂𝒚]

01:03 ——◦———— 02:46

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

╚═══════════════════╝

"We're sorry Mr. Stark."

"Where?"

...

Down by the bay

He could still hear her singing. Voice of an Angel. Which no longer sang.

It was no-one's fault, really. She was just in the wrong place in wrong time.

Or was she?

Or was it his fault for not going there to collect her? Leaving her in the hands of the devil. Leaving her in misery.

The room, man was in was all messy. In a way nobody ever saw. It must be a miracle for the man to not black-out from exhaustion too.

Down by the bay

He couldn't unsee the truth. Dirt, blood, scratches, wounds. Anything but them. His mind was screaming that it was his fault. And he started to really think it indeed was.

The cries of help was unheard. He should be there but he was up to no good. They should've saved her. He should have saved her. How was he going to save the world if he can't even keep his little girl safe.

Where the watermelon rot

Nobody should have seen it. Find her. She ought to rot. It was an accident. It was planed. They have to pay. She didn't deserve it. Still got it.

Lights.

Camera.

Action.

Where the watermelon rot

That boy has to pay. Revenge was always an option, which shouldn’t be. It never helps with the wound. And he knew it. It only tears your slowly closing up scar wide open.

If you go home

They didn't let her.

If you go home

They had gone.

Just don't get caught

With her help. Her screams.

Just don't get caught - caught -

They got caught. But it doesn't change anything and fix the damege.

But if you do

They will kill you. You won't be able to hurt anyone else.

You will be dead.

My mother will say

Stop crying.

What are you gonna do?

You don't wanna know

How much it hurt her. He wanted to punch the boy in the video.

What's outside the windows

The man looked at the lake outside his house. To met with his youngest and now only daughter playing with a camera. He went outside. Needing a distraction. But it made everything worse as he heard her voice. His breathing got fast and harsh.

The little girl turned around as in her cue. "Look daddy, what I found!" she said with exitement and curiosity leaking from every word. Maybe even from every breath.

He had to be calm and collected. For the little girl. For her. He started with taking slow and rythemic breaths. In and out. 'Yeah, great start Tony! Great start.'

"What did you get there Morgan?" he asked, feeling very unconfortable as he did so.

With that she looked up to her father and showed a video of a young girl singing. He knew this was coming but still, he wasn't ready. He just looked at the girl in the video. Too focused to even see his daughter, move back and fort, 'dance'.

"What's wrong daddy?" this brought him back to reality.

"Where did you find this, Morgan?" he asked a few drops of tear escaping from the corner of his eyes.

"In the attic." a little pause, "Isn't she pretty, daddy? And her voice is so goood." she, Morgan, said prolonging the -o'es- in good.

Nodding Tony said "You're right Morgan, she's lovely." he took a deep breath "You wanna know something 'bout her?"

Morgan, nodded so fast that her father thought she would break her neck, for a second. "Her name is–was (Y/N). (Y/N) Morgan Stark." he said fast at fixing his mistake.

"Ohh, we have the same name." little Morgan said, looking directly into her father's eyes for him to continue.

"She is your... She is your sister, Morgan." he finished with his eyes closed as if he was Afraid of her reaction.

Morgan's eyes widened to that "I have a sister? I have a sister! I have a sister!" she was jumping around with eximent. "When can I meet her? When can I meet her??"

"Not anytime soon, Morgan."

"Why?" now confused and calm girl asked, stopping with her jumps, with lack of eximent in her voice.

"Because..." he sighned and continued "Because, she's no longer with us."

"Can't you bring her back daddy? Like you always do."

"I can't Morgan. She is in a different place."

"So? Don't be silly pa'. Uncle Thor is also You can do this, in another place but you always manage to bring him back." 'In the end you always get your way, am I wrong?' he could hear her voice. That sassy tone of hers, which he dearly missed and would die to hear one more time, for real. Holding a conversation with her rather than watching old videos and her last one to only hear her unheard screams. All over again and again and again.

"This is different Morgan. This time no one can bring her back. Not even me."

"But why? What happened to her? Where is she?" she asked with full of curiosity and the singing stopped.

Down by the bay

...

"Please! Stop it please! Aaah!" the teen girl begged for her torturer to stop.

"You had this coming up on yourself, girly."

...

"We're sorry Mr. Stark, but we can't let you join the search."

...

"JARVIS search the whole city!"

...

"This is Tao speaking, we found something."

"It's obvious that she was tortured. Unsub must had tied her up and beat her down. Then stabbed her multiple times. Leaving her vitals unharmed. She must have been in a lot of pain till she died."

...

"We're sorry Mr. Stark."

"Where?"

...

Where the watermelon rot...

╔═══════════════════════════╗

Thank you all for reading

╚═══════════════════════════╝

147 notes · View notes

sabo-has-my-heart · 2 years

Note

Helloo astraa

This is my first time req on ur acc :33 so may i have a story please between f.reader x law angst, where reader died while giving birth to their child, law is a dr so he was there. If u r not comfortable with it im sorry and dont worry about it :333 thank youuu astraa

Warnings: angst, reader death, Daddy!Law, infants, gn!child

Word Count: 1360

I hope this is about what you wanted, also, I'm not crying, you're crying!

Looking down at the infant in his arms, Law tried to hold back his sobs. They looked so much like you. Why couldn’t he do anything? He was the owner of the op op fruit, a skilled doctor, he was the surgeon of god damned death!… death… you were dead. The mother of his child, the woman he loved… gone. You’d barely had time to see your child, a small smile crossing your features as he brought the bundle over to you. He’d tried his best, he’d wanted to save you. The moment he noticed the complications, he’d started to work frantically. You’d just asked him to see your child, you just wanted to see your child one time. Maybe you knew that you were dying, maybe you knew that you’d never get to see your child grow up. Finally, the sob escaped his lips as he held his child closer, trying not to hold them too tightly as he clung to them. He fell to his knees, he couldn’t do this without you, he wasn’t a father, he wasn’t nurturing, he’d lost his parents when he was 10 and Corazon when he was 13! He didn’t know how to be nurturing! The crew had promised to help him, but that was of little comfort, not when you were gone. A whine and wriggling in his arms drew his attention, looking down at the bundle. Had his sobs woken them? Were they hungry? What was he supposed to do? Law slowly got to his feet, exiting his room. Bepo, Shachi and Penguin would probably know what to do, hell, any of his crew would probably have a better idea than he did. He knew the scientific ins and outs of taking care of a child, he could tell you how much a child should probably eat, how much they should weigh at certain milestones, the chances of them getting sick, what to do when they got sick, the best things to feed them for the most nutrients, he could tell a person all of the technical necessities of taking care of an infant. But a baby wasn’t a scientific experiment, they needed love, they needed care, they needed… they needed you. You would have been better at this. He knew he could be cold and stand-offish, he showed a certain kind of affection for his crew, and he’d shown you affection, but it was different. He didn’t smother you in kisses like some people, he didn’t praise you constantly like Straw hat’s cook, didn’t hold you constantly or snuggle with you all the time. You’d never minded, simply enjoying the moments you got. His arms wrapped around you as he fell asleep, a soft kiss to your forehead when you made sure he wasn’t overworking, telling you you were beautiful in the privacy of his office or your room. Could he raise a child like that? With so few obvious affections? Would they hate him for not saying he loved them more? Would it affect their emotional and mental growth? Once again, he knew the technical and medical knowledge, but he had no idea how to apply it. It didn’t take long for him to find Bepo, the polar bear mink taking care of various minor chores around the Polar Tang. Fuck, was this even the kind of place he should be raising a child? The machinery, the life of a pirate, the frequent darkness in the depths of the ocean. Bepo took one look at the squirming infant before leaning in and sniffing it. Right, that was probably the first thing he should have checked for, why hadn’t he thought of that? He seemed to know exactly why Law was standing in front of him as he waved for Law to follow him. Law wasn’t the only one on the ship who was distraught, the entire crew had loved you, you were a mother before you’d ever even gotten pregnant, just a different kind of mother. The grieving man followed Bepo into the kitchen, watching as he heated some milk up.

“Do you know how to feed them, captain?” Bepo asked, holding the warm bottle. How to feed an infant, first the child needed to… no, that was what all the books said. This would be the first time he’d fed them, the crew having taken care of the infant for the first few days while Law screamed and sobbed over your death. “I think so.” Law said simply, gently taking the bottle. He took a shaky breath, hoping that he was doing this right. It wasn’t all about technical terminology, he needed to… what were you always saying? Go with the flow, don’t plan, just feel it out, it’s okay to not know exactly what you’re doing. More tears streamed down Law’s face as he watched his child drink, instantly quieting down. They looked so peaceful, reminding him once more of you. His heart ached as he remembered that same look of peace on your face. He barely felt the large polar bear hugging him, too absorbed in watching his child, in his memories of you. Why couldn’t you be here with him? Why you? Hadn’t he lost enough people in his life? Apparently not, since you had been ripped away from him. The infant soon decided that they’d had enough, Law handing the bottle to Bepo to take care of as Law saw to his child’s needs. This was going to take some getting used to and, despite his desire to take care of the child on his own, it was going to take the help of his crew. He was still their captain, he was still a pirate, meaning that for the time being, he still had other people to look after as well. Law began to wonder about raising the child on the Polar Tang once more. They’d have a bigger family than if he settled down on some island, they’d grow up surrounded by and smothered with love, none of his crew would allow the child to come to harm. Would they be safe though? He was a notorious pirate, wanted across all four blues and the Grand Line. It wasn’t like pirates hadn’t had children before, and not all children of pirates were hunted or hated, but this was the only ‘thing’ he had left of you, what if they were put in harm's way? You’d have known what to do, you always knew what to do. Once more, he tried to hold his child tightly without hurting them. Cradling them in his arms once more as yellow eyes looked up at him. His eyes, seemingly the only thing they had that marked the child as his. Maybe that would change as they grew older, no, he wanted them to look like you, just like you. They’d never be a replacement, and it would be a constant reminder, but he wanted them to look like you, just as beautiful, just as kind and loving. That’s what he had to do, he had to raise them to be like you, not their looks, you’d never care about their looks, but who they were. He wanted them to be just as kind, just as smart, and sweet and giving. They’d be just as accepting and loving, just as utterly amazing, even if he had to change to do it, even if he had to be more outwardly affectionate or loving, he’d do it for them, he’d do anything for them. Just like how he’d done anything for you.

#one piece law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader #dad!Law #daddy!Law #dead reader #mother reader #angst

322 notes · View notes

carnivorousyandeere · 1 year

Text

Yandere Witch x Ghost Reader

CW: Dead Reader, Claustrophobia, Corpse

Mika’s back! What a dumpster fire of a person. I don’t think they thought this through as thoroughly as he could’ve 💕

Heavier on the angst side.

(Please Blacklist the tag “#ghost reader” if you don’t wanna see this)

🥀Things were… strange, on that particular morning when you woke up and went to check on Mika like always.

🥀Your darling Witch’s stricken expression as she turned and saw you was the first sign that something was wrong. They brought you inside, and tried to make tea, but their hands shook too much.

🥀 Their attitude didn’t improve from there. Mika’s anxiousness rubbed off on you, and things continued to escalate.

🥀And when you tried to touch their shoulder, your hand passed right through.

🥀 Glasses and plates in the kitchen began to vibrate and fall, shattering, as your anxiety rose and you demanded for Mika to explain what was happening.

🥀Mika cried and told you everything. He never was the best at keeping things from you. Not that she’d intended to lie forever! She just… wanted to ease you into it. Not have you find out like this.

🥀 ‘Fucking delusional.’ You stormed though the door and out into the woods, trying to contain your feelings and escape. There was no way you were really dead.

🥀But when you reached the edge of the property, there was an invisible barrier trapping you in. The boundaries of spellwork, iron, and charms kept you trapped and present here, tethered to the earth and the land.

🥀You really were dead.

🥀You stayed outside that night, wailing like a goddamn banshee while Mika could only cover their ears and cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥀After much pleading and coaxing for the next few days, Mika lead you back to the house to “rest.” Not that you were sure you needed it anymore.

🥀As much as you hated them for what they’d done, they were still your only source of comfort…

🥀If you gathered your energy and tried your hardest, you could even reach out to touch Mika. One night you tried strangling them, but couldn’t quite manage it.

🥀They woke up gasping, but only beamed at you with tears in their eyes, thankful that you were touching them again…

🥀It was driving you crazy. You wanted to drive them mad too, breaking things, whispering and screaming threats, ruining all of their potions, but when it got too much they could just leave the property where you couldn’t follow.

🥀Mika did his best to assure you that he was working on a way to bind your souls permanently, and that once they figured out how to do it they would die so you could be together.

🥀That only pissed you off more. But after days, then weeks, then months, of being trapped and unable to do any permanent damage, your will to fight slowly drained away.

🥀You haunted the house and property sullenly. Unable to fight Mika and unwilling to let them try and cheer you up.

🥀You could, however, phase through solid objects as you’d found out by accident one night while “sleeping.” You had fallen through the floorboards of the bedroom and woken from the dizzying feeling in the living room.

🥀You couldn’t really sleep or dream the way you used to, spirit stuck in limbo as it was, you could only doze while replaying memories chopped up and stitched together without any of the color and creativity of actual dreams.

🥀One night, after “falling asleep,” you had “woken up…” in your body. Trapped, suffocating in the dirt. Your screams echoed into the house, shaking the walls and windows. Mika rushed outside and eased your spirit up and out of your body, doing their best to hold you.

🥀You couldn’t find it in you to fight him. You just let him hold you as you cried. You didn’t question how he could hold you like this, just leaned into their warmth.

🥀As much as you fucking hated it, you had missed the warmth of their embrace.

🥀And if Mika had somehow used their magic to orchestrate that little fiasco, it’s not like you’d really need to know…

#not my best work but I’m like. half dead meself rn 😂#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #my thoughts #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x you #ghost reader #necromancer yandere #witch yandere #dead reader #unwilling reader #unwilling to willing reader #…maybe #oc Mika

45 notes · View notes

kougiri · 1 year

Note

I loved that one giorno HC, can you write a scenario where the reader plays guitar for him? And giorno sings the song back to her when she died? You don't have to accept my request if you're too busy <3

———————————————————-

Of course, darling.

The song I'll be using is 'Overgrown Gardens'. It seemed like the perfect fit for this request. While we're at it, here's a little thing about me. I can play the guitar and ukulele..although I can not sing.

———————————————————-

Content warning:

———————————————————-

Overgrown Garden

———————————————————-

◈ 𝙰 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚛𝚑𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗. "𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚢~ 𝙰𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢, ~ 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚒 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞~" 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 "𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗~ 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚡𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎." 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚜. "𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚢~ 𝙰𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢, ~ 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞~" "𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗" 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍. "𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚑𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚗'𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢 𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛.."

◈ "The thorns grew tighter every day 'round your ankles dripping red you placed a crown of marigolds on my head and then you said as you tried to pull your bloody hands away..'I'm never gonna leave you behind, someday. In the daises and the bluebells, weeping by the ay. Because i love you, and i would do anything, i would do anything, anything at all...'." he sang quietly. "I wonder when you left me behind that day, asleep beneath the willows, withering away. If you were okay, because i would do anything for you, I would do anything" He hums, leaning on your tombstone. Rhododendron, lilies, and other kinds of flowers surround him. "I guess you're the one who left me in the end. Didn't you keep all your promises? why make a promise of never leaving me if you did, anyway." he whispers, a cold breeze flowing as he shivers slightly. "I never said I'd leave you, Gio. I keep all of my promises, sure, i may not be here physically, but I'm with you spiritually, I'm in your heart," you mumble, wrapping your misty arms around him. Marigolds bloom beautifully, and different shades of them are scattered around. He looks at the flowers and makes a flower crown, braiding the stems. Placing the crown of marigolds on your grave, he smiles. "I know you'd never leave me, but it feels like you'll leave me one day. Promise not to leave me, alright?" Placing a kiss on the grave, a single flower of your F/F grows. "I'll visit you next time, alright? Hope you have a good day." Walking away from your grave, your spirit follows him, keeping the promise forever.

———————————————————-

#Kaugiri cafe order #Ghost reader #giorno giovanna #giorno x you #jjba giorno #giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno #Giovanna #jjba #jjba part 5 #vento auero #golden wind #dead reader

51 notes · View notes

chizz · 2 years

Text

Jack walten x Dead reader

Warning(s): mentions of blood, Eventually Sophie finding out.

@thelovelymoongoddess sorry this took as long, I know you were probably waiting! Sorry if it's short :/

Sophie woke up with a gasp, she turned around to check if Jenny was alright which she was.

Sophie went inside the bathroom and softly closed the door. When she looked into the mirror she saw...

You?

"I'm guessing...you found out?" You said with a deeper voice then when she last saw you.

"I'm sorry- I have one question..were you and my dad ever married?" She asked, you were taken back by this question.

"Yeah. He asked me to marry him." Sophie eyebrows furrowed, then she smiled.

"Y'know...when my mother and father came to an agreement which they didn't want to be together anymore...I realized they were in love with different people. My father was in love with you and--" you sighed, "Yes, sophie don't feel overwhelmed. I know you don't like me-" sophie put her hands up In defense.

"No, no, it's nothing like that.." she sighed before looking into the mirror again, "Don't worry, I'll be back sooner or later. There's this ritual..it's a way to bring me back." You told her with a smile, maybe she would do it, maybe she wouldn't do it.

"Sophie-" she cut you off, "No. Dad needs you back, so much, And- I'll do it for him and you." You smiled and showed off your sharp teeth and your smile went all the way to your ears, come to find out your mouth was slit.

"What.. happened?" She asked with fear, you chuckled, "No need to be afraid. I won't hurt you." You told her with a deep laugh, then you disappeared. Where did you go?

"see you soon spohie."

#jack walten x dead reader #jack walten #sophie walten #rosemary walten #the walten files #dead reader

135 notes · View notes

thegrimreaper-probably · 2 years

Text

Sad story ahead!

Steve Harrington x dying reader.

Summary: The mall scene! Reader and Billy are half siblings bc Neil cheated on your mom with Billy’s mom. Steve and you are dating

Warning! Talks about seeing ghost and bunch of trauma. This does talk/ imply that you were suicidal! Talk is that in the song says suicide in your arms tonight. Implying that you didn’t care about dying. (Which neither do I but I don’t know if that suicidal)

Based of the song Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

“Y/N!” I yell as she block Billy from the Mind Flayer. I run over to her and ignore everything.

“Y/n?” I hold her body in mine as she’s covered in blood.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’ll be okay. We’ll get out of here.”

“Steve-.”

“Shh save your energy.” I take my shit off and try to stop the bleeding.

“Baby I’m not gonna make it. Please just keep Max safe.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“I know Billy can but just help him.”

“Billy needs you. I need you!” She pushes the shirt off and I hold her back in my arms. I know she right but I don’t want too.

“I know but at- least I died in your arms.”

“No your not.”

“I love you.”

“Please- what about all the promises we made?” She kiss my cheek with the last of her strength.

“Please I need you.” She smiles sadly and her eyes get tired.

“Y/n I love you too.” She slowly falls limp in my arms as I hug her closer.

“Y/n?” Max asks as tears run down her face as she holds Billy’s body. She screams and Lucas holds her tight as both her step siblings were died.

Steve finally found out why you hated your dad. He was abusive to you and Billy. The dick had tried to sell your guys stuff. Steve bought it all and made sure Max had gotten whatever she wanted from you guy. At the funeral where your mother came to see you for the first time scene you moved here.

You never said your feelings on her but Steve thinks it would be anger now. Your mother was beautiful looked a lot like you which broke his heart even more. Yet she left you with Neil which if she maybe just hadn’t you’d be alive right now.

The worst of all was he still saw you. The funeral you and Billy had been sitting with Max as she cried. He saw you with Billy never alone. A constant reminder as to why he blamed himself.

Then it seemed everyone but him and Max moved on. Dustin was friends with Eddie Muson who now everyone thinks is a murder. Which at first he thought the same, but Vacna or whatever had been killing people. Which now he’s trying to get Max.

“Max please just listen to me.” I say as put batteries in the walker.

“Steve I don’t need you.” She grabs the walker and walks off.

“Max I need to do it for us.” I stand in front of her way.

“I can do it myself!” Max had problems with anger just like Billy. So did Steve but your problem was not caring about death. Not caring what happened to you as long as everyone else was happy. Some sad twisted joke life had on them.

“Max just let me-!” Suddenly I wasn’t in the house. I was at the mall with you.

“Y/n!” I run to her and hug her.

“I fell hard in your arms that night, it was nice. I died in your arms that night. I slipped through into the afterlife, It was nice. White light in your arms that night. I lost sight in your arms that night, It was nice.” She says and breaks the hug.

“Wasn’t so nice for me.” I say angry.

“Hey, you, don't you think it's kinda cute? That I died right inside your arms that night.” Y/n says.

“Y/n I know this isn’t you but I can’t live without you.”

“Really? Because I cried in the afterlife. I cried hard because I have died and you're alive! I tried to escaped the afterlife, I tried hard to get back inside your arms alive.” As she yelled she become bigger and more demonic.

“I don’t want to die with you upset at me. Please?”

“That I fell hard in your arms. I went and died in your arms that night. I fell in your arms tonight. Suicide in your arms.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That I'm fine even after I have died because it was in your arms I died.” Suddenly I’m back home. With everyone screaming as tears stream down my face.

“No- no- no.” I mumble over and over.

“Harrington no what?” Eddie asks.

“FUCK!” I throw a vase at a wall and everyone jumps back.

“You saw her, didn’t you?” I fall down the wall and hug myself and rock. I sob and sob till I feel a hand.

“It was nice.” I look up to see her and whimper.

“Stop it!” I yell at her.

“Steve? Who are you talking too?” Dustin asks.

“STOP TORTURING ME! STOP IT!” Max then hug him as I watch. Billy holding me with a sigh.

“I hate this.” I mumble out.

“I know.” He says.

“I can’t help him. I can’t hold him. I can’t kiss him.” I start to cry.

“Shh.” He says as he rubs back.

“Billy I can’t do this anymore.”

“Hey. Look at me.” I take my faces off his shoulder and look at him.

“We’re gonna make it through this, together. Just like we’ve always said. We’ll move to Cali when your ready. We can go ghost surfing or something. Steve and Max are going to be okay, it takes time.”

“Their just turning into us Billy. Steve doesn’t care about himself and Max has all this anger.”

“It takes time.”

“How much time Billy? Because we died because of it!”

“N/n I don’t know but just trust me on it.” He holds me as I sob with Steve.

“Steve I’m sorry.” Max says after hours of me sobbing and yelling.

“It’s my fault. If I didn’t tell her back then.”

“I think about it everyday but Y/n and Billy were so close. I don’t think she would live without him.” She says leaning into me.

“How do you do it?” I ask after a pause of silence.

“Do what?”

“Not cry everyday.”

“I like to think there in heaven surfing on a big beach. They’re probably just alone but are so happy. They can be free now. Free from Neil, free from this place, free from the monsters. But I know y/n sad, she misses us. She probably watches you and feels so bad. Bad that she caused this pain, bad that she couldn’t have been stronger, bad that she broke the person’s heart that healed her own. Though Billy’s with her, cheering her up. Telling her it takes time and he’ll be better soon.” She’s says as sits up.

“When we were at the funeral. I saw them, together. They had sat down with you, hugging you and I keep seeing them. I don’t know which ones are real or fake or even if I’m going crazy.”

“Do you see them now?” I look at Steve at the small sliver of hope.

“No.” I shred a tear and whimper as I fall into Billy’s arms.

It’s short but mm I kinda like it.

#Spotify #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dead reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x sister!reader #ghost reader #warning mention of suicidal behavior #warning very sad #max mayfield

33 notes · View notes