#these dark pits in your life where you can't see out and when you're stuck in the middle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawhatsoraya · 2 years

Note

Kuchiki Byakuya fell in love with a human girl. But he cants accept them because she is human, and he is a soul reaper. One day, Byakuya saw the human girl nearly attacked by a hollow or people. He saved her. You can decide how this scenario continues!

She can see hollows and soul reapers since she was a child, but she had no special power like Orihime or Ichigo.

Have a nice day/evening

🌸💕

Hey hun! Per the time stamp on desktop it's been 18 days OTL oh my goooosssh!! But I have finally finished your request. I have loved Bleach ever since it was releasing years and years ago and had to watch in youtube in parts or downloading in Limewire at the risk of getting a virus on my computer lol. I'm so happy they're animating that last arc. I used to have a love hate relationship with Byakuya but as I have gotten older now I just love him ;~; funny how that works. ANYWAY ENOUGH TALKING ABOUT ME. Let's get to the fic. I hope you enjoy! (banner by: soleilnomoon because I couldn't force myself to open photoshop)

When the Cherry Blossoms Bloom

KUCHIKI BYAKUYA X HUMAN READER | NSFW, SHE/HER, HURT barely comfort LMAO WORD COUNT: 2.3k CONTENT WARNINGS: implied suicide attempt, implied depression, that being said this piece is a little dark theme/mood wise, but there is no gore, or violence, mentions of death, and terminal illness, unprotected sex (i mean it can be argued if Byakuya even needs protection but alas that's a discourse for another day), vaginal penetration, the smut in this fic is very subdued and not explicit but still labeled it NSFW to be safe A SUMMARY: I don't have one today, folks lol. Just read the request and read at your peril.

ACT I – A FIRST MEETING, HALF FORGOTTEN

A city under your feet, unsympathetic, a stranger to your feelings and strife. You scowl down at it as the wind whips your hair around your face. The tendrils sting as they slap your cheeks, over and over again, an unwelcome reminder that you were still alive. Still breathing. A heaviness in your chest numbs your fingers and toes. You inch closer to the edge, aware of the repercussions of falling from this height.

If you were lucky, you'd die on impact. You had never been lucky. Not for a single day in your whole damn life. Not even once.

The laugh that shakes your shoulders is new. A voice so strange it threatens to unsettle you, but your mind had been made up ever since you climbed the staircase leading to the rooftop of the building.

The muscles in your body relax. Your jaw, the one you're always clenching, feels slack, renewed. You set your eyes forward on the horizon, on the sun that has partially sunk underneath it. Twilight spills up, tinting the night sky with pinks and oranges. The colors burn in the back of your eyes as you take a step forward.

The feel of sinking fills the pit of your stomach. There are fingers around your wrist. A surreal strength swings you around, and suddenly you are flying away from the ledge. There are arms around you, carrying you off towards the center of the building. Your lungs struggle to keep up, and you gulp air when you finally catch your bearings. Strong arms help to keep you up as your legs try to decide on what they'll do next; hold you together, or let you fall apart.

An unfamiliar warmth surrounds you. The scent of cherry blossoms infiltrates your senses, along with green tea and a mild sweet scent of maple wood. Delicate, elegant, and strange—stranger, even, the more you take it in. It feels like you're stuck in a dream, mindlessly going where you're taken. You're not sure how you end up back in your room, on your bed. You drift off to sleep, a pallid face creeping up behind your eyelids. His dark eyes stay with you until sleep comes and takes you.

When you wake the next morning, you realized with a groan you are back in your nightmare. A fate you can't escape. You hear your name coming from the room down the hall, and you roll off the bed with a sigh.

“Coming, grandma!” you call out, sliding your slippers on. Your bones feel heavy as you drag yourself to her room. Your smile is practiced, and you force yourself to make cheerful conversation. It was the least you could do for someone who had been giving an expiration date.

As you place the pills on her hand, one by one, watching her swallow them with difficulty, you fight the twisted feeling of jealousy strangling your neck. You fight the desire to take her place, to be the one that wastes away.

ACT II – MEETINGS IN SECRET, MEETINGS FORGOTTEN

Byakuya has no desire to remember you.

He has no desire to allow you to consume his thoughts, but you remain a persistent memory he can't shake off. A fog over his mind, distracting him from politics and polite conversation.

He should have never interfered. He should have let you do, as most tired humans do, and jump off the precipice of the building. His preoccupation should have remained with your soul, and soul alone. Intervening with the living should only go as far as keeping them from becoming Hollow fodder.

He should have walked away at the sight of your back. He should have looked away from the way the wind blew through your hair. He should have made up his mind but the look in your eyes reminded him so much of himself that it had tore, all at once, into an all wound. His hand was around your wrist before he could even assess the damage. Painful memories spilled from his chest as he carried you back to your room. By tucking the blankets around your body, he had hoped to scoop everything back up inside the prison between his ribs.

Before you drift off to sleep, he attempts to replace your memories—the device producing a puff of smoke that makes his nose crinkle.

He often thinks he smells smoke, even while in Soul Society. Byakuya fears he might be finally succumbing to madness. Entertaining this annoying infatuation would be the biggest mistake he makes in a long time. He tells himself this feeling stems from boredom, or perhaps isolation. He surrounds himself with work, scribbling away at parchment in hopes of pushing thoughts of you aside.

You haunt him at night. Your eyes always looking down at him as he tries to sleep. He wonders if things have changed for you. Have you visited that rooftop again? Dread ices his bones, and it is with that foolish impulse that he finds himself visiting you time and time again. It is simply out of concern, he says. You were so close to throwing it all away, and as your savior it should be his responsibility to watch over you.

Casting shame aside, he becomes a silent shadow. A guardian angel dressed in black robes. The irony does not elude him. He smiles sardonically to himself as he watches you do the dishes, a tiredness keeping your eyelids heavy.

He mutters small lies to himself; tells himself that just one glimpse is all he needs to stop worrying. He tells himself this every time he memorizes the profile of your face from the darkness he hides in. On a rainy day he finds you at a cemetery. You hold an umbrella that barely keeps you dry, one of its long ribs pokes straight through the fabric. Byakuya frowns at your choice to use it regardless.

He had seen the plethora of envelopes poking out of your mailbox, purposely forgotten until the white had turned yellow under the sun.

You hated the rain. You had no real reason for it. In fact, it felt like you should like it. It felt like you should stand under it, until it soaked your clothes, until the coldness seeped into your bones. But your wet toes wiggling under the socks of your hole filled sneakers told you otherwise. You hated the feeling of having your feet immersed into something you couldn't escape, like the puddles surrounding your grandmother's tomb.

You think you feel his presence again, so you turn, feet buried in puddles to look for his face. Instead you see the familiar slightly translucent body of a being who should have passed. You walk away from your grandmother's tomb, feet soaked, wet bouquet of flowers in your hand. You kneel down, to place them over the tomb the footless specter is hovering over.

“You should go on,” you tell him quietly, looking up at his slightly glowing form. He smiles down at you sadly. “I'm sure the other side is much better than here.”

He watches you quietly, his own umbrella shielding him from the rain. When the spirit doesn't respond, Byakuya watches you place the umbrella down over the flowers to keep them dry. You walk away, water pouring over you, drenching your hair. The form of your retreating back reminds him of that day on the rooftop.

His fingers twitch as he controls the urge to grab your wrist, just like before.

ACT III – AT LAST, WE MEET. PLEASE STAY

It's a slightly chilly night. Your thin over sized t-shirt does nothing to help the matter. You walk faster to see if that will help, but your slides aren't made for fast walking. They clack with each of your steps, the slapping sound making you feel as if you were being chased. You blame this for the sudden paranoia touching you on the back of neck, clutching the bag of instant food to your chest.

You want to blame it, but you know better.

When you turn around you see it's white mask. A scream gets lodged in your throat. Your first instinct is to run but your legs shake. You fall to your knees and watch silently as it hovers over you. The stench coming from it is acrid. The smell of decay fills your lungs and your mouth waters as you fight off the waves of nausea. You place your hands on the ground, pebbles digging into your palms, and you pray for a quick ending. It was the least you deserved.

Cherry blossoms bloom under the night sky, filling the air with their sweet scent. You look up in search for the pink petals but see none. Instead, you see his back to you, his long hair swaying softly in the wind. The creature that attacked you slowly splits in half, and just as slowly begins to disappear, piece by piece.

He turns to face you, with the same eyes you had dreamed about almost every night. And just like the Hollow, piece by piece, your false bravado disappears. He is inhumanely fast. You realize this in an afterthought once he has gathered you in his arms. The way he carries you makes you feel weightless. You're trembling in his arms, fingers clutching tightly to his robes. You don't stop even when he brings you back to that familiar room, and that familiar bed.

You don't let him go even when your back hits the bed. He hovers over you, a hand over yours trying to decide if he should untangle you from his clothing, or should he continue toying with this flame. The warmth of your body was a temptation he had long forgotten. You pull him down towards you, clutch him tightly against your chest. Your hands are frigid. He gathers them in between his own, brows furrowed together so closely, you fear they'll blur together.

It's been so long since he even dared to be on the same bed as anyone else. It's been so long since he even contemplated staying, but your hands fit so perfectly in his, he can barely handle the thought. He has no confidence, but your eyes are so sad he wants to kiss the darkness away, even if it's just for the moment; even if it's just for the night.

His lips are gentle. The kiss so shy and hesitant, you think you're imagining him again. You think this is some kind of delusion; one you have made up in another moment of loneliness to fill the gaping hole in your chest. His hands trail over your belly, under your shirt, trembling fingers taking in the sensation of your smooth skin. His nerves threaten to get the best of him when he clutches your waist.

The way you respond to his touch, small little gasps that shake your body, urge him forward. Heat swallows him whole as he finds the column of your neck. The more he kisses your skin, the more he touches your body, the more he desires you. The more he wants to consume you, keep you within himself.

The night holds many horrors—beautiful, tragic, and horrific all at once.

He pushes past it, and shoves all thoughts of the future aside. Tonight, he does not want to think. Tonight, he wants to drown in you. He pulls the shirt over your head, and settles comfortably on top of you. Your hands slip into his robes, skimming carefully over the muscles of his chest. A crescent moon spills its light over his skin as you push the robes of his shoulders. It slides down to his waist. Your fingernails scratch down the rippling muscle of his back when he bites down on your neck. The sound that jumps out of your mouth startles even you.

Fantasies had the power to poison, to torment. You don't care about the consequences when he pulls your underwear aside. You don't care about what comes next when enters you, gently, slowly. You only care about the feeling of him burying himself inside you to the hilt. You only care about his soft moans in your ear, the way he clutches you against him as if you weren't close enough. As if he couldn't push you in deeper, fold you into himself.

Heat and lust makes you lose your senses. You touch without seeing, and feel without thinking. All you know is the consuming heat of his mouth brings you closer to the edge of madness. You cry out when you cum, his lips latched around an erect nipple. You pull on his hair, and he follows the path of your neck, up your jaw. He kisses your cheek, and swoops towards your ear.

“You shouldn't,” he confesses, his voice soft and hoarse. “But I want you to remember.”

You wake up the next morning, your legs tangled in your sheets. The morning sun begins to warm the room. You shift uncomfortably in your bed, muscles sore. You blink, as a dream threatens to run away from you; soft lips, large hands, the feel of kisses between your thighs. You throw an arm over your eyes, groaning in disbelief. Another dream you couldn't quite remember yet couldn't forget. His eyes still say with you—pools so dark you dream of falling into them.

Cherry blossoms must have bloomed in your bedroom again last night, you think, as the scent lingers on your skin. You smell it in your hair as you roll in bed, and on your pillow. A hand lays against her chest, fingers curling around the blanket clutching it tightly against it. Searing pain explodes, a carnage she was too familiar with left in its wake. Hot tears spill out of her eyes, but she does not make a sound.

Fantasies had the power to poison. They had the power to torment—especially when it dabbles into reality. It all had felt so real, it leaves you with an aching emptiness. You hope one it might be real.

You hope one day he'd come back for you, and make the cherry blossoms bloom once again.

#kuchiki byakuya #byakuya x reader #byakuya x you #byakuya x yn #bleach x y/n #bleach x you #bleach x reader #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya smut #fic request

181 notes · View notes

constellation-skirmishes · 7 months

Note

I see you’ve been on a Crane Wives kick lately and hear me out. I raise you, The Moon Will Sing as Anidala. It’s not a perfect match, but I think it could be the two of them.

ITS IN MY REXANIDALA PLAYLIST !!!!!!!! its not perfect but its still sooo gooodddddd. i just love being angsty about them

Tell me once again I could have been anyone, anyone else Before you made the choice for me

SO PADMÉ !!!!!

My feet knew the path We walked in the dark, in the dark I never gave a single thought to where it might lead

padmé......ouuughhh.....

All those empty rooms We could have been anywhere, anywhere else Instead I made a bed with apathy My heart knew the weight Ten years worth of dust and neglect We made our peace with weariness and let it be

TELL ME this isnt ROTS

The moon will sing a song for me I loved you like the sun Bore the shadows that you made With no light of my own

N OBECAUEUHSEU BECAUE BECUSE BECAUSE i can and WILL make everything about padmé

'i loved you like the sun'.......oughhh once again everything centers around tatooine

'bore the shadows that you made with no light of my own.'

i only contest the 'no light of my own' part because its padmé and shes awesome but. i get it. for the context of canon (and not my fucked up version where theyre happy and communicate well) it works.

anakin is very, very controlling. and we know this. and with him not talking to anyone to idk, fix himself, nothing gets better. padmé is the one who ultimately pays w her life for his mistakes.

I shine only with the light you gave me I shine only with the light you gave me

head in hands sobbing wailing screaming throwing up

Name your courage now We could have had anything, anything else Instead you hoarded all that's left of me

BECAUSEEEE ITS SO. confrontation on mustafar.

Swallowing your doubt Like swords to the pit of my belly I want to feel the fire that you kept from me

hi sorry not sane about them ever.

The moon will sing a song for me I loved you like the sun Bore the shadows that you made With no light of my own I shine only with the light you gave me I shine only with the light you gave me I shine only with the light you gave me (I could have been anyone, anyone) I shine only with the light you gave me (I could have been anyone, anyone)

LIIKEEEEEEE sorry i have multiple versions of my favorite ships running around in my mind at the same time. i keep canon anidala in my mind but i have my anidala in my mind also. this is more canon than mine, but its so good.

but you know what's even more anidala? Steady, Steady

Steady, steady, you know when you're ready It's a long road walking into the sun The heat can make you lose your head Your sense of direction Oh steady, steady I am ready to be the one I can take for better, but for worse I can't condone Most of our "for good" just makes me ache to be alone How long is forever? I'm swimming in this dress, a child in her mother's clothes This ring around my finger's like a chain around my throat Are you so sure you've tamed me? Steady, steady, you know when you're ready It's a long road walking into the sun The heat can make you lose your head Your sense of direction Oh steady, steady I am ready to run We talked about the west, 'bout packing up our lives and hopes Ain't it a shame with time our dreams turned into jokes I won't let that be us Nostalgic for the good times like our dreams walked out on us Like we woke up in an empty bed here, and now we're stuck I'll chase them down alone Don't just watch me go, you fool Run with me, keep up, keep up, keep up It's not you I'm leaving Are you listening? I just can't take the rut, the rut I won't say I do, 'til you promise me That though we're gray, we can stay young, and wild, and free Young and wild and free And if you can't, don't blame me And if you can't, don't blame me And if you can't, don't blame me Steady, steady, you know when you're ready It's a long road walking into the sun The heat can make you lose your head Your sense of direction Oh steady, steady We weren't ready

its so padme. to me. if you even care.

i love 'the fool in her wedding gown' god its such a good album

#lukka's commlink #anakin skywalker #padme naberrie #anidala

18 notes · View notes

occultfolk · 4 years

Text

Lets talk: chakras!

in this post, we'll talk about chakras! what they are, why its important to keep them balanced and how they can aid/hinder our spiritual journey.

FAQs |

I. what even are chakras? Chakras points of energy throughout the body where the physical and higher selves meet.

II. what do they do? each chakra corresponds to massive nerve centers and major organs in the body. each of the 7 chakras also contains our spiritual states of being.

INTRODUCTION |

so what ARE the 7 chakras? glad you asked! let's break them down, one by one, because in order to begin to unblock or even open our chakras, we need to understand them throughly.

before we begin, let's do a little meditation lesson. lie down on a comfortable, flat surface. now, using your pendulum, hover over each of your chakra points — if the pendulum moves with the flow of the position of your body, the chakra is open. but if it does not move, it is blocked.

now, this comes with a grain of salt because while it can be a useful simple way to check the chakras, it cannot be the only way you check them.

SEVEN CHAKRAS |

1. Root Chakra (Muladhara)

The root chakra represents our foundation. On the human body, it sits at the base of the spine and gives us the feeling of being grounded. When the root chakra is open, we feel confident in our ability to withstand challenges and stand on our own two feet. When it's blocked, we feel threatened, as if we're standing on unstable ground.

Location: Base of spine, in tailbone area

What it controls: Survival issues such as financial independence, money, and food

Mantra: "I can't grow from an unsteady foundation."

Color: Red

Element: Earth

Stone: Hematite

2. Sacral Chakra (Swadhisthana)

The sacral chakra helps inform how we relate to our emotions and the emotions of others. It also governs creativity and sexual energy. Those with a blocked sacral chakra could feel a lack of control in their lives.

Location: Lower abdomen, about 2 inches below the navel

What it controls: Your sense of abundance, well-being, pleasure, and sexuality

Mantra: "I always honor others but not before myself."

Color: Orange

Element: Water

Stone: Tiger's Eye

3. Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura)

The third chakra, the solar plexus chakra, speaks to your ability to be confident and in control of your life. Think back to the last time you had butterflies or felt a pit in the stomach: That's the Manipura chakra at work. If your solar plexus chakra is blocked, you might feel overwhelming amounts of shame and self-doubt. Those with open sacral chakras are free to express their true selves.

Location: Upper abdomen in the stomach area

What it controls: Self-worth, self-confidence, and self-esteem

Mantra: "Self-love starts when I accept all parts of myself."

Color: Yellow

Element: Fire

Stone: Amber

4. Heart Chakra (Anahata)

The heart chakra is the bridge between the lower chakras (associated with materiality) and the upper chakras (associated with spirituality). As the name suggests, this chakra can influence our ability to give and receive love—from others and ourselves. Someone with a blocked heart chakra will have difficulty fully opening up to the people in their life. If someone's heart is open, they can experience deep compassion and empathy.

Location: Center of chest, just above the heart

What it controls: Love, joy, and inner peace

Mantra: "When I love myself, loving others comes easily."

Color: Green

Element: Air

Stone: Rose Quartz

5. Throat Chakra (Vishuddha)

The throat chakra gives voice to the heart chakra and controls our ability to communicate our personal power. When it's functioning at full capacity, it allows us to express ourselves truly and clearly. Someone with a blocked throat chakra will feel like they have trouble finding the words to say how they truly feel.

Location: Throat

What it controls: Communication, self-expression, and truth

Mantra: "I speak my truth, always."

Color: Light Blue/Turquoise

Element: Sound/Music

Stone: Aquamarine

6. Third-Eye Chakra (Ajna)

As we move up the body, we're getting closer to communion with the divine. The third-eye chakra controls our ability to see the big picture and connect to intuition. Think of it as the eye of the soul: It registers information beyond the surface level. Visions and intuitive hits are not uncommon for someone with an open third-eye chakra.

Location: Forehead between the eyes (also called the Brow Chakra)

What it controls: Intuition, imagination, and wisdom

Mantra: "I am open to exploring what cannot be seen."

Color: Dark Blue/Purple

Element: Light

Stone: Amethyst

7. Crown Chakra (Sahasrara)

The crown chakra, the highest chakra, sits at the crown of the head and represents our ability to be fully connected spiritually. When you fully open your crown chakra—something very few people ever do!—you're able to access a higher consciousness.

Location: The very top of the head

What it controls: Inner and outer beauty, spiritual connection

Lesson: "I am a vessel for love and light."

Color: Violet/White

Element: Divine Consciousness

Stone: Clear quartz

BLOCKED/OPEN |

now that we have a better understanding of the chakras, what they do and more important where they are, we can talk about the reasons we might have blocks, and the things we can do to reopen those blocks and therefore progress in our spiritual journies.

i read a book about charkas a while ago, and then i feel it explains the reasons better than i could, here is an excerpt from that book.

"A blocked chakra means energy is stuck or hindered. You might think of it as a blocked artery. In order for energy and information to flow, the channels through which they flow must be open. You will have difficulty getting to work on time if the roads are blocked by traffic. In the same way, the chakras cannot work at optimal levels when the pathways have blockages. These blockages can be physical, emotional or psychological, spiritual, karmic, or energetic.

The blocks can be physical, in the literal sense, such as fatty deposits in the arteries, a tumor, a cyst, or excess waste. We can create blockages in the physical body through poor dietary choices, lack of exercise, overexertion, and lifestyle choices such as overwork, drug use, or lack of sleep.

Blocks in the chakras can also be emotional or psychological, such as stored emotions from the past or mental illness such as anxiety, depression, or addiction. We accumulate emotional toxins and residue from not properly processing and digesting emotions and experiences. These toxins result in blocking the energy flow of the chakras.

Blocks can be spiritual in nature. They can come from outside spiritual forces or from within. If we refuse to honor the spiritual side of who we are, we block the higher chakras. Being spiritually rigid and strict can also restrict the flow of energy. Remember, whether the forces are external or internal, without your conscious awareness they can create harm.

Blockages can also come from our karma. The word karma in Sanskrit literally means “action.” In life we perform actions that are good or nourishing, bad or harmful, or neutral. An example of a good action might be giving money to charity. A bad action might be intentionally lying or deceiving. A neutral action might be making the bed (which, if you dig deeper, can also be considered a good action, depending on the circumstances). In the East, certain religions and philosophies adhere to the principle that we accumulate karma throughout lifetimes, and we carry it forth into our current life. The definition of karma, in this sense, assumes a belief in reincarnation and asserts that karma is not simply the action performed but also the consequences of that action. Good karma carried forward can give us favor in our current lifetime. Bad karma is a debt we must repay in this or future lifetimes.

Finally, the blocks can be energetic. I explained a little about energetic blockages when I spoke about my astrological chart. We are a part of this earth, our solar system, and the universe. The influence of the earth’s energy and elements, as well as of the energy of the sun, moon, and planets in our solar system, is strong and undeniable. Ayurveda, the five-thousand-year-old medical system from India, recognizes these energetic forces and acknowledges them as a means of healing. You can learn more about Ayurveda by reading my book The Wheel of Healing with Ayurveda: An Easy Guide to a Healthy Lifestyle. Ayurveda works on the principles of the five elements — space, air, fire, water, and earth — which work together to create the three doshas, or mind-body types, of Vata (space and air), Pitta (fire and water), and Kapha (water and earth). These elements and mind-body types are relevant in recognizing energetic blocks within your body and the chakras. This awareness will give you more tools toward your healing of the chakras and provide a superspeed highway to creating energy flow." — CHAKRA HEALING FOR VIBRANT ENERGY by Michelle S. Fondin.

so how do we unblock them then? well, its more complicated than can be explained in a single tumblr post, but i will tell you how to get the energies moving whilst you work through the blocks and figure them out.

we need to understand, that we are all different, and our spiritual journies will all be different. the same goes for things like chakras.

1st Chakra (Root)

Element: The root chakra is associated with earth, so walking barefoot in the sand, grass, or dirt can be beneficial. Any time spent in nature is helpful for this chakra.

Nutrition: Eat healthy red foods like tomatoes, beets, berries, and apples.

Wear and Decorate: Use accents of red and wear red jewelry, clothing, or shoes.

Sound: lam

2nd Chakra (Sacral)

Element: The sacral chakra is associated with water, which means swimming or spending time by bodies of water like lakes and oceans is beneficial.

Nutrition: Eat orange foods like carrots, oranges, melons, or mangoes.

Wear and Decorate: Surround yourself with orange accessories or tones.

Sound: vam

3rd Chakra (Solar Plexus)

Element: The solar plexus chakra is associated with the element of fire, so enjoy sitting around a bonfire or soak up bright sunlight.

Nutrition: Eat yellow foods like bananas, ginger, turmeric, pineapple, and corn.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing yellow clothing, jewelry, and accessories would be beneficial.

Sound: ram

4th Chakra (Heart)

Elements: The heart chakra is associated with air, so breathing deeply will help to clear the energy at this level. Drive with the windows open, fly a kite, or take a boat ride.

Nutrition: Eat green foods including broccoli, avocado, and leafy greens like kale or spinach.

Wear and Decorate: Accent your life with all shades of green.

Sound: yum

5th Chakra (Throat)

Element: The throat chakra is associated with ether (similar to spirit), so sitting in an open space under a clear sky is a fabulous way to get this energy flowing appropriately.

Nutrition: Eat blue foods like blueberries, currants, dragon fruit, and kelp.

Wear and Decorate: Use all blue tones.

Sound: ham

6th Chakra (Third Eye)

Element: The third eye chakra is associated with light. To balance and open this chakra, sit in stillness in the sunlight or relax in a window as the sun pours in.

Nutrition: Eat indigo foods including purple kale, grapes, and blackberries.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing indigo clothing or jewelry and decorating with accents of this color will be useful.

Sound: sham

7th Chakra (Crown)

Element: The crown chakra is affiliated with all the elements, so connecting with your wholeness rather than a single element is the recommended practice. Spend time in meditation, chanting, or prayer.

Nutrition: At this level, the nutrition is no longer for the physical body. This chakra is not nourished with food, but with spiritual practices. Practice self-reflection and curiosity.

Wear and Decorate: Wearing violet clothing or jewelry and decorating with accents of this color will be useful.

Sound: om

CONCLUSION |

hopefully you all understand chakras a bit better now! but, if any questions are to come up that you can't seem to find an answer to, my ask box is always open! (like my chakras).

#chakras #witchcraft #pagan #magick #witchblr #bruja #spiritualgrowth #spiritualhealing

2K notes · View notes

emmajh97-mumaji · 3 years

Text

"YOUR TWIN SISTER BETRAYED ME! YOUR DAMN SEMBLANCE KILLED SUMMER! And now my daughters are dead because YOU FAILED TO PROTECT THEM!"

"T-tai I--"

"GET OUT, QROW. I never want to see your face again."

Taiyang Xiao Long had never regretted saying something so much in his entire life.

It had been weeks since Qrow had come by to tell him Ruby and Yang were gone... but Tai was still haunted by how devastated Qrow looked as he left.

Tai had been extremely upset... overcome with sorrow and hate... it made sense to lash out. However, that didn't make the guilt any less heavy...

Tai knew none of those words were true. Raven may have left him, but Qrow had proved to be the most loyal friend Tai had ever known. Qrow's snarky attitude was infuriating and he was certainly a bad influence... but when Summer died he went out of his way to help raise Ruby and Yang.

It was evening... Tai sat in the kitchen, bathed in moonlight from an open window...

Qrow was probably all the way in Vacuo now... And as he stared down at the table, Tai finally realized... there went the only family he had left.

Then... Out of the corner of his eye... Tai noticed the dark shadow of a bird come towards him.

Tai: (hopeful) Qrow...?

Tai looked up as he heard the 'pwoof' of a transformation-

Tai: ...oh.

Standing before him was Raven Branwen. His hopefulness immediately faded.

Tai: ......it's you.

Raven: (sarcasm) I missed you too, sweetheart.

Tai: What do you want, Raven?

Raven: I don't want anything... I just thought you might like to know about your daughters.

Tai's face filled with suspicion as he rose a brow.

Tai: ...what are you talking about?

Raven: The girls are still alive, Tai.

Tai went wide-eyed.

What did she just say? Yang and Ruby were alive?!

But wait. This was Raven he was talking to. His expression became jaded as he glared at her.

Tai: ...messing with my emotions is a new low for you.

Raven: I'm not joking, Tai.

Tai was caught off guard again.

Tai: But... where?! And how do you know?!

Raven: My portals, you idiot. I have one for Yang, remember?

Tai: (JUMPING UP from his seat) Take me to them!!

Raven was startled by that-! It took her a few seconds to calm down and remove her hand from her sword hilt.

Raven: I can't.

Tai: Why not?! Your protals can take you literally anywhere on Remnant--

Raven: They AREN'T ON REMNANT, Tai.

Tai took a beat to process that, then glared.

Tai: That's bullshit-!

Raven: (glares back) I'm telling you the truth!

She grabbed her sword, and swiftly opened a portal behind her--

Raven: See for yourself.

Tai ran over and inspected it... the red swirling energy was unstable, wobbling violently. It stung him when he tried to go through it! But... he could hear them... the words were incoherent from the distortion, but those were definitely Yang and Ruby's voices!

Tai: But if they aren't on Remnant... where are they?!

Raven: My guess? ...they're stuck in the same realm where Old Man Oz kept the Relics.

Tai was exhilarated. For the first time in ages he felt hope again. Like there was something he could do to bring his family back-!

Tai: If that's so, then... we should be able to go save them!

Raven: (disgusted look) We...?

Tai: (annoyed) Oh, I'm sorry, I meant *I* can go save them. I keep forgetting you don't care about your own daughter.

Raven: I'm just being realistic.

Tai: So am I! You said you opened the Haven Vault, right? We can just walk in through there!

Raven: And get ourselves lost on in some mysterious realm with who knows what dangers awaiting us?!

Raven: No Tai-- I'm staying here and watching over my tribe, like a rational person.

Tai: (hisses) Fine..! Then I'll find someone else to come with me!

Raven laughed mockingly at him.

Raven: Who? In case you forgot, the entire world is currently being besieged by Salem's forces!

Taiyang grew anxious. All he cared about was seeing his daughters again.

Tai: Huntsmen and huntresses are gathering at Shade, I'm sure I could find someone there who will--

Raven: Someone? You're going to trust your life, the lives of your daughters, to some random huntress?!

Tai: If that's the only choice I have!

Raven: It's not, Tai.

Tai glared at her. She took the hint, continuing-

Raven: There IS a huntsman who would be willing to help you. Someone with experience scouting and searching for people. Someone strong enough to take on even ME in battle... well, when I'm not using my power, anyway~

Tai gave her a look of curious confusion. Raven sighed, frustrated that he wasn't getting the hint yet.

Raven: He's the only other man I know who would be foolish enough to sacrifice the fate of the entire world... for the sake of Ruby and my daughter.

Tai felt a pit start to form in his stomach... He finally realized who she was talking about.

Raven smiled sadistically at his face, and twisted the knife--

Raven: ...and you told him you never wanted to see him again.

Tai swallowed the lump in his throat. With a sigh he looked over at Raven-

Tai: So you were listening in that time?

Raven: It was hard not to hear, when you were yelling so loudly. (smirks) My favorite part was you blaming my dear twin for the death of Summ-

Tai: (cutting her off) OKAY!! I get it! Look- are you going to make me a portal to Qrow, or what?

Raven looks Tai over, admiring his pajamas-

Raven: Aren't you a bit underdressed to be going to Vacuo right now?

Tai: (groans) YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT!

Raven chuckled, giving him a terse nod before turning away and walking over to the window.

Raven: ...I'll be back in three days. Be ready.

And with a puff of feathers, she was gone.

...

Afternoon, three days later...

Raven: Tai.

Tai: What?

Tai stopped right as he was about to step through the portal.

Tai had already taken care of everything. Port and Oobleck would help teach his classes at Signal. Some neighbors on Patch would watch over the house and dogsit Zwei. He had all his desert exploration supplies prepared. New haircut, new gear-- the only thing in his way was his ex interrupting him.

Raven looked him square in the eyes for a solid minute.

Raven: ...I am no traitor.

Tai took a few second to process that... then his eyes widened-

Tai: Is that SERIOUSLY the only reason you're helping m--?!

But before he could finish, a gust of wind pushed him through the portal, which then closed behind him!

Tai stumbled out into what appeared to be some sort of sandy-colored diner.

Tai: --me?! ...Ugh.

Tai sighed. He could deal with Raven later.

For now...

...there was someone he wanted to apologize to.

#rwby #Future STRQ AU #taiyang xiao long #RWBY Tai #raven branwen #qrow branwen #STRQ #team strq #taiqrow #Taiyang x Qrow #taiyang x raven #Qrow x Tai #rwby fanfiction #fireball #emmajh97's posts

55 notes · View notes

maplecornia · 3 years

Text

chapter 34

𝔞/𝔫: this chapter will be in 3rd person POV

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.45K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

When was the moment he realized things were broken?

Driving down the dark streets, his hand clenches on the wheel of the car. Memories of past smiles, foreign whispers of love, someone's hand holding his while he couldn't feel more alone...

Maybe he always knew.

Maybe he just didn't want to admit it to himself.

Pausing in front of a stop sign, he looks over as his phone buzzes, a message popping up on the screen. He doesn't bother looking at it, he knows it's not going to say what he wants it to say.

Watching the blinking lights at an empty street, he considers running it. There's nobody else around. No one would even notice. Even if he somehow did get in an accident would it matter? At this point is there anyone left who cares? Once the light changes green, the thoughts disappear as though they had never existed in the first place.

Jimin, you knew this would happen eventually.

You made this game.

"Yen, what's your secret?"

How is she able to smile so brightly? He sees the darkness in her eyes, he sees the way she disappears into herself, he sees the struggle inside her as she fights to be happy every day.

So why? How is she so strong?

Why can't I be that strong?

Jimin thought he would be able to forget everything. He thought it wouldn't matter. All he wanted was someone to be beside him. All he wanted was to not feel alone. He didn't think that having someone beside him, knowing that they didn't love him, knowing that they were using him for everything else but love...

He didn't think it would make him feel cold, almost isolated.

And yet, he still doesn't want to let go.

When his phone buzzes once more, he looks over at the passenger seat, not paying attention to the road. He doesn't notice as he comes across another intersection. He doesn't notice the crosswalk, nor the woman who is crossing. He’s too focused on the name that flashes on his screen. Debating in his strangled min whether or not to answer.

When he reaches her, just a few feet away, may it be fate or destiny he turns away from the phone just in time to see the woman. Adrenaline pumping violently through his body, his eyes widen as she turns, hearing the roar of the engine and the screech of the tires. Instinct taking over his body, Jimin slams his foot on the brake, the car managing to squeal to a stop, just a few inches away from the frozen woman. In the few moments it takes for him to register her face, he's able to discern one thing.

Bright luminescent green eyes.

In the silence that follows, Jimin breathes heavily, looking over his wheel almost hesitantly. He doesn't know if he hit her, all he's aware of is that she can no longer be seen through the windshield. Fear erupting in his nerves in waves, he frantically unbuckles with shaking fingers, opening the door and dashing to the front of the car. The buzzing phone now forgotten.

He pauses for a moment taking in the scene.

The good news is that he didn't hit her.

The bad news is Jimin quite possibly terrorized her beyond reality.

She’s fallen to the ground, bags of groceries scattered around her, her eyes wide and her entire body shaking. Her hands wrap around the gravel on the ground as she shivers, her lips moving as tears start to appear at her eyes, but no sound can be heard. Jimin notices the scratches her knees have endured from the fall, the way dark smudges of pavement have mixed with the tears on her cheeks, and the small drops of blood dripping from her hands so brutally ripping through the pieces of gravel and dirt.

Sighing, he kneels beside her, trying to gather her attention. It proves to be quite difficult considering the way her eyes are locked on the headlights of the car just a few inches away from her. She shivers as she contemplates how she could have died just a few moments ago and finds the thought far too horrifying to comprehend. Fear paralyzing her like a virus, Jimin has to take her by the shoulders to gather her attention.

And there they are again. Brilliant green eyes, golden flecks scattered within her irises. They meet his deep cinnamon ones, a spark reflected between the two of them. A spark only the heavens could have seen.

"Are you okay?"

Once Jimin speaks, in a soft hushed tone, the woman breaks out of her reverie. Her eyes well up in unspoken terror, and she starts to shake even more violently at the sight of someone next to her comforting her.

Why is it when we are at our most vulnerable, we find ourselves breaking when there is someone there to hold us?

Noticing her shivers, he removes his jacket and places it across her shoulders, trying desperately not to falter at the sight of panic in her eyes.

"It's okay, I'm here."

"Yes, I know I'm late but I'll be there soon."

Needless to say, Jimin finally figured out how to answer his phone.

He paces a few feet away from where he left the shivering woman, his heart clenching and unclenching in distress. When did it become such a chore to talk to her? When did he start regretting every moment spent with her?

Half listening to the pressed voice on the other line, he glances at the woman who pulls his coat tighter around her body, her face pale and eyes darting around in frantic panic. At the sight, his heart tightens in pain and he struggles to shove down his guilt.

It doesn't help matters when he hears the words on the other side of the line.

"What?"

As though he were stuck in a lucid dream he tries not to let the disappointment eat at him. It's not a big deal that she ate without him, after all, he was running quite late...

Why does it bother him so much?

Why does the thought make him feel alone?

Oh, I don't know Jimin, maybe it's the fact that she used you.

Again.

Your money, your love, your dedication, your time.

It was all a waste after all.

"No, it's fine. We'll see each other another time."

Jimin clenches his jaw at the sound of a male voice addressing her on the other line. Suspiciously close, dangerously close. Jimin doesn't bother asking who it is. He already knows the real reason. Taking a deep breath, he tries his hardest not to give in to the tears.

God, you're pathetic aren't you?

"Okay. I have to go now, but I'll see you soon."

No, you won't.

"I lo--"

The line cuts off before he can finish his sentence, and Jimin would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. He holds the phone up for another moment as though waiting for a phantom to whisper the words he so longs to hear. Biting his bottom lip when it's clear they won't come, he pockets his phone and turns back to the woman on the bench.

Would she treat him the same?

If she were in this situation, what would she do?

Jimin knows these are desperate, ridiculous questions to ponder, but he can't help himself. He's too lost, too broken to wonder anything else. Snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards her, settling onto the bench seat beside her. He knows she overheard the conversation, he knows that every time he looked at her she glanced away as though being caught in a trap.

At this moment, however, he finds it very hard to care.

"Was that my fault?"

At the question, Jimin smiles almost bitterly.

"No, it was mine." He leans his head back, sighing as he stares at the dark sky. "I should've expected it."

At the nearly dejected statement, the woman can't help but look at him with concern. She recognizes the look in his eyes. The dark swirling pit of nothing. She's seen it reflected in her own. She hesitates before speaking once more.

"If you need somewhere to be, I'll be fine." Jimin looks her way incredulously, at the glance, she smiles nervously finding it hard to meet his eyes. "I can wait for a bus on my own--"

When she glances back his way, she doesn't expect him to be so close.

His face nearly inches away from hers, she could almost swear that her heart stopped for a fraction of a second from the shock. It's not a normal occurrence to have a nearly perfect man inches away from you.

But then again, what part of this situation is normal in her eyes anyway?

Oh God, all I wanted was to get some groceries.

Jimin stares at her with an unreadable gaze, his piercing eyes staring deep into hers. Perhaps it's an attempt to see into her soul, to find some part of her character reflected within him. There has to be a reason she looks so familiar, some form of explanation for why he feels as though he's known her all his life.

Why is it so comfortable to be around her?

"What is your name?"

The woman looks up at him with wide eyes, the iridescent green nearly blinding Jimin of all reason.

"Jocelynn."

Sliding his hand on the back of the bench as he leans closer to her, she avoids his eyes. Inwardly she prays that he doesn't hear her heartbeat increasing every second he is close to her.

"Jocelynn." At the sound of her name on his tongue, her stomach turns in on itself. Looking back at him she is surprised to find that his gaze has never strayed from hers. "You know that when it's this late, it's not smart to be on your own right?"

His voice is deep and husky, drawn to a near whisper that is hardly distinctive but manages to move every possible emotion present in her heart. Raising an eyebrow, Jocelynn tilts her head slightly.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You were alone."

If she expected him to be flustered, she couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, his eyes darken once more and he smiles half to himself.

"Maybe I don't want to be alone."

Another second, maybe Jimin would have leaned further. Another second and maybe he would have placed his lips on hers. Another second and perhaps he would have been able to forget just how empty he was, as long as he was holding another in his arms.

But when he sees the sad conjecture hidden within her eyes, he can't bring himself to use her in that way. For some unknown reason, he finds that he can't hurt her even if it means he'll feel whole.

Coming to his senses, he pulls away. The same space that was between them a few moments ago, opening once more. He leans forward resting his arms on his legs, his hands clenched tightly together, his heart playing games with his mind.

She's just a stranger, someone he met by some strange coincidence of the skies.

And yet, he can't bear to see that look in her eyes.

"You never told me your name."

Jimin turns to Jocelynn, raising an eyebrow incredulously.

"You don't know me?" he murmurs, obviously surprised, and probably wondering if she's lying. Jocelynn in turn rolls her eyes at the assumption that anyone would be oblivious to who he was, and Jimin can't help but feel amused.

"So what if I do? It's polite to introduce yourself to strangers you nearly run over." Jocelynn responds, her eyes glinting mischievously and Jimin can't help it.

He laughs.

Jocelynn smiles at the sight, almost proud that she was able to leech that out of him. After a moment, Jimin turns to her and extends his hand her way.

"My name is Jimin." When she doesn’t take it right away, he raises his eyebrow at her. In turn, she rolls her eyes before intertwining her hand with his and shaking it. Jimin can't help but think that her hand is soft, comforting, almost made to fit with his. Inwardly, he chastises himself for thinking that way.

When will he remember that fate and destiny don't exist?

Hasn't he been taught that enough?

"It's nice to meet you Jimin."

When she says his name, it's almost as though some invisible bind around his heart has been released. He's able to breathe for the first time, he's able to forget everything he's been harboring deep inside. Almost as though a simple utterance of his name on her tongue has set him free.

"I'm sorry I ruined your date." Jocelynn apologizes before pulling away, and Jimin considers scrambling to hold her hand tightly within his own. In order to refrain himself, he scratches the back of his neck as he shakes his head.

"It's not your fault, don't worry." He reassures her, and she bows her head, smiling to herself. Sighing, Jimin looks back up at the stars, finding it fascinating the way they can shine so bright from so far away. "If I'm being honest it was probably ruined before I met you."

"Do you mind saying why?" At the thought of showing her that vulnerable side of himself, he can feel the darkness start to taint the inner corners of his heart.

Why is it so frightening to reveal one's weakness?

Smiling almost bitterly, he avoids her eyes as he answers her.

"Have you ever had a relationship where you know you're being used, but you stay in it because you're afraid of being alone?"

Jocelynn flinches at the description, being reminded of a time way back where she had exactly that. Painful memories she had thought she had since buried ever since he was removed from her life. Moments she thought she had left behind the moment she promised she would move on.

"That's my relationship." Jimin continues, Jocelynn listening quietly beside him. "I mean it started nice enough. The usual honeymoon phase. She was sweet and funny. To top it off she was just drop-dead gorgeous, I thought I hit the gold mine. The luckiest guy in the world."

Though he doesn't look her way and she doesn't make a move to comfort him, somehow her presence beside him makes things easier for him. He doesn't feel as though someone is violating his memories, he doesn't feel as though she were a stranger. On the contrary, he feels as though this were a normal thing, as though he had been confiding in her all his life.

"Until I saw that she was only happy when she was taking from me. She used me for money, sex, love..."

It was all a lie.

Even now, Jimin can't bear to utter the words, instead they hang over his head. Unspoken but the reality hitting him like a grenade.

"Yeah, she was sweet all right. Like poison."

He laughs bitterly, shaking his head at himself. He never knew self-deprecation could hurt this much. Slowly building up each day until he threatens to break.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I don't even know you."

It's strange, he can't even confide in his friends. He doesn't even feel as though he's able to talk to Tae like he used to, why is it so easy for him to talk to Jocelynn? A person whom he met on a chance encounter, someone whom he didn't even know the name of until just a couple of seconds ago. They are little more than strangers, so how is this so easy?

At the question, Jocelynn smiles to herself, remembering something she had heard once before. From a mere child, and yet it was a child who was the first person to teach her she was never truly alone.

"Sometimes it's easier to talk to those you don't know. They don't have room to judge, they don't know what you did wrong or where you messed up. You may never see them again, so what harm is there in talking to them? That way you don't have to deal with the baggage following you around."

Jimin looks at her with surprise and finds that her gaze is far away. Those green eyes that are so calm and serene are now filled with unspoken tears and sparkling gems of pain.

"I'm not going to say some crappy thing like 'why don't you just leave' or 'she's toxic just drop her' because I know how hard that really is." She takes a deep breath to steady her nerves before continuing. "However, I know what it's like to be used and endure pain because you don't want to be alone. So I will say something to help you make up your mind."

When she meets his delicate tawny eyes with her tender green ones, he finds himself struck speechless. She looks at him almost as though she were afraid he'd break. As though he needed a shield to protect him at all costs and she would be willing to be that shield.

Since when was it Jimin who needed protecting?

"You deserve better."

"What?"

Jimin seems shocked, almost baffled at the notion. Jocelynn smiles almost bitterly to herself. Is that what she looked like when she was told the same thing? Was it so hard to believe that someone like her could deserve to be happy?

"No matter what you may tell yourself, you deserve love. You deserve to be loved. No matter what you think you may have done or how scared you are of being alone, you deserve to have someone reciprocate the love you give to them." Jocelynn holds her hands tightly together as she speaks, an attempt to refrain herself from reaching over and taking his within hers. Though she longs to give him some sort of comfort, she has to keep her distance. "From the way you're describing it...this relationship doesn't sound like it's love."

The silence that blossoms between them is one not easily broken. It's a silence filled with unspoken emotions, late realizations, and hard-won ignorance crumbling. When Jimin looks at her, he admires the way her face shines in the moonlight, her hair that tumbles down around her shoulders, the way she exuberates calm serenity that never thought he'd find.

Almost as if she were an angel sent for him.

When the bus pulls up in front of the two of them, Jimin finds that he doesn't want her to be a stranger. He doesn't want her to leave. He wants her to be around him, he wants her to know his burden. And above all...

He doesn't want to hide anymore.

"Just...think about it okay?" Jocelynn stands, sliding the jacket Jimin gave her not but a few moments ago off her shoulders and offering it up to him. "Here."

He sits there for a stunned moment, staring up at her and the jacket. Within his mind, he makes a quick decision, one that he sincerely hopes he doesn't regret.

Standing, he pushes the coat back to her and smiles.

"Keep it." He murmurs as her emerald eyes widen, a soft rosy hue threatening to erupt on her cheeks. Smiling to herself, she nods, holding the jacket close to her chest, before stepping back toward the bus.

"Thank you." She whispers back, turning on her heel and boarding the bus.

Leaving Jimin alone.

As the doors close, and the familiar hiss exuberates from the vehicle as it pulls away, Jimin stands there. He watches Jocelynn walk down the aisle, before settling into a seat beside a window. She presses her cheek against the cool glass before turning back to the jacket she holds in her hands. Jimin sees as she smiles to herself before holding it close to her heart, her face buried deep within the fabric.

He doesn't notice the grin on his face as he witnesses the pink blush on her cheeks, and the wide smile on her face as she pulls away. Her eyes sparkle with a joy he's only seen on TV screens, and in the back of his mind, he wonders if it's possible to keep that smile to himself. He wonders if she'd be willing to stay by him forever.

Then the bus is gone, she's gone, and he's left in the dust of forgotten memories and broken tears.

"No..." He murmurs, a smile playing at the memory of her green eyes.

"Thank you."

note: NEW CHARACTER ALERT!!! This character has a lot of background to do with Yen, which will be revealed later. I really like this chapter and enjoyed writing in a different POV for different characters. I think this is a nice view into Jimin's side of the story and hopefully we can expand on it soon. Anyways! Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed!

chapter 35 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

25 notes · View notes

greenygreenland · 3 years

Text

Promise: Norman x Fem!Reader

-idk why but i’m having such a hard time writing pt 3 of Dream a Little Dream of Me, so here’s this to compensate for now

-i normally write for fem reader, but if you really wanted to, you could switch the words around in your head

-AGED UP characters because that’s been a trend in my work, so I’ll keep it constant

-just getting rid of drafts that have been sitting around for months

BRIEF MANGA SPOILERS, READ AT OWN RISK

Summary: Period cramps suck, and so does feeling burnt out and exhausted. Luckily, someone has just the remedy for you. This is after you all reach the Other Side. Emma is still missing.

Everything hurt--from your head to your shoulders to your knees and your toes. It was like someone flipped a switch. The other day, you were fine and dandy. There wasn’t a thing that could have swept you off your feet no matter how powerful the gust of wind. You were on top of the world.

Then your period started and you woke up with cramps that left you glued to the couch. It rained the day after, and when you dragged yourself out of bed to finish some work, you found that you just couldn’t.

An invisible rope tethered you to the ground, and the fact that it was so heavy made your head spin. Am I good enough to complete this? Will I have enough time?

Your stomach ached and your head pounded.

I can do this. I can do this.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

But why couldn’t you do it? The outlines for your essays and papers were long completed, and it wasn’t like you didn’t spread it evenly throughout the week. You always stuck to the schedule. To the last letter. To the absolute ‘t’. It was all you could do to remind yourself you had control over your unpredictable life. Yet now, why was it so hard to finish the job?

The cramps absolutely massacring your poor abdomen seemed to increase by ten fold, and the gentle sun shining through your window intensified into a raging fire.

The due date was five days from now. It seemed like a while away, but you knew it wasn't. That would fly by in a flash and leave you in the dust. If there was one thing that you took to heart from Mama, then it had to be the fact that time was precious. Without paying close attention to it, then you would surely go tumbling down a hill.

"(Y/n)?"

You buried your head in your hands miserably. "I can't do this. My stomach hurts so much and I can't focus", was what you wanted to say. Instead, it came out in a muffled groan of pain. “I...can’t...”

Norman waltzed over to your desk. His gentle hands settled around your slumped shoulders, encasing them in a much-needed warmth. You heaved out a long breath, sluggishly peeking out of your arms to get a good look at Norman's handsome face. He smiled lovingly and your knitted brows eased just a little.

"What do you need me to do?" he softly inquired. "I know it's that time." You huffed in thought, a weak smile twitching upon your lips. Of course Norman knew you had your period. He was always on top of his game. Always.

"So, do you need anything, love?" Norman patiently repeated. You stared into his bright eyes and melted. Calm. Caring. Sweet. Kind. That had to be one of your favourite things about him. He always had eyes that said what you wanted to hear. Whether it be, 'I love you' to 'I'm here', Norman always seemed to know what you needed.

This time was no different.

"You."

"Hm?"

"I want you."

Norman smiled and it was like the sun at Golden Hour. He took you by the hand and helped you over to your shared bed. A heavy sigh left your lips as soon as your back hit the soft bed. Norman placed a hand on your shoulder and tucked you in with him. "What's wrong?"

You shrugged.

"Hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Tired?"

You shook your head again.

Norman hummed to himself in thought. Papers lay on you desk, scattered in a mix of opened folders and half-baked diagrams. The unsharpened pencil perched at the edge of your desk centimeters from an immediate pit-fall to the waste bin. It wasn’t like you to leave everything laying about. Mama brought you up in the best way possible. She taught you that being neat and tidy were one of the most important things to do since it helped promote focus and calmness.

You weren’t one to let yourself slip like that, unless something were really bothering you. Norman’s gaze fell on your computer screen. It glowed brightly, slowly falling silent until the screen faded.

ELA ESSAY DUE MONDAY

The computer fell fast asleep, "Essay?" Norman echoed. You nodded and he pulled you close to his chest. College wasn’t easy when you couldn’t focus. Sometimes, Norman found himself dozing off. He worked just as much as you so that no one would have to borrow money from the Ratri Clan. It was a necessary sacrifice you both agreed on so no one else would have to suffer the horrors of high school and college combined.

It wasn’t that any of it was too hard, just that it was a lot of work.

After you both graduated, you’d make your own company, and from there, make a lot of money to support everyone.

"I'm guessing you're feeling burnt out.” Norman said. “You're almost done with the essay, but you haven't touched it since last night." He ran a hand through your hair. "And since your period came yesterday, you're not feeling too well. Do you want anything to drink?"

You muttered out a small no and Norman pursed his lips. He didn't know what to do because there wasn't much to do. Your stomach hurt, yes, that was bad, but he didn't know how to make you feel better when you probably weren't going to swallow pills without choking. Tea would help, but with the way you weren't moving, it would be impossible to drink.

"I wish I could help more." Norman muttered. "Maybe I should call Ray..."

You shook your head. "It's okay. Can you...keep talking?"

Norman's brows shot up. Of course! Talking would help you forget about your cramps and worries. Either that or you'd fall asleep! Perfect. Why didn’t he think of that?

"Have you read the book The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings?”

You shook your head. Back at the House, The Hobbit and The Lord of The Rings were nothing more than those small books tucked away in the farthest reaches of the library. They were dusty old things, so you never bothered with them. It didn’t matter how bored you were of reading the same five books over and over again, those books were simply too dusty.

You recalled the time Ray playfully kicked at you. He told you to go away and stop complaining. Of course, you didn’t listen, and went on about how you hated (book).

“In those books, there are descriptions of this place called Hobbiton.” Norman spoke like he was reading a story. The way his voice flowed like water eased your nerves, reminded you that the present existed.

All you needed was a breather.

“Now,” Norman continued, “Hobbiton isn’t just a village or town. It’s a place where Hobbits live in holes in the ground. But these aren’t cold and dark. They’re cozy, with rounded doors and grass as green as an apple. Hobbits eat more than us, so they have different names for their meals. They’re mostly friendly people, and they’re open to tea time if you’re welcome in their homes. I heard that the movies were filmed in New Zealand. I’ll take you there on vacation, and we’ll bring Emma and Ray along too.”

You smiled against Norman’s chest. You wouldn’t like that, you’d love it. After staring at the same worksheets and papers, you needed a change of scenery. Somewhere far from here, just to get a breath of fresh air.

“Yeah.” you quietly said. “I’d love that.” Norman smiled and it was like an early birthday present. “When we find Emma, we’ll go to New Zealand and sightsee. We’ll see new places, and take lots of photos.” Norman stared at the peaceful look on your face. He pecked your cheek. “I promise.”

#tpn #tpn norman #ynn norman #ynn #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland #the promised neverland x reader #x reader #anime #anime x reader #thanks for reading #please reblog #do it for him

74 notes · View notes

honeysidesarchived · 3 years

Text

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

pt. iii: tra i due litigante terzo gode ( read on ao3 ) ( masterlist )

words: 3.6k

warnings: mentions of animal death (canon-typical), clown on clown violence.

rating: m/t

notes: putting this little project of mine up on the internet for strangers to see was incredibly nerve-wracking, but i have been so lucky to be received so kindly by folks! thank you to everyone who reads, it really means the absolute most to me.

i don't know if i mentioned this before, but you can find translations for the (google-translated) italian at the bottom of each chapter on my ao3. i know it's a hassle, i'm sorry!! just can't find an easy place to put them here without spoiling what's going on in the chap ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

thank you as always to my lovely beta @starcrier, my lover my life my shawty my wife; this could not be done at all without you. ♡ and to @belorage, who loves euphie enough to send me the cutest message that managed to kick my ass into gear to get this chapter edited!!

Two days after the engagement party, when Santino has finally made up for his delay and lateness, is when he ruins it all again.

Later, Euphemia will think that he can’t help it—he is destined to be a wrecker, a ruiner, even if it’s for himself. It’s not his fault, not really, she’ll say. Ignoring that he is a perfectly autonomous adult means that she can excuse his thoughtlessness and not call it selfishness.

One of Santi’s men tries to tell her that he’s busy as she strides through the museum, heels clipping the floor with a strict, stark cadence. The smell of the doctor’s office is still stuck in her palette. She feels a wad of anxiety, anticipation, coiling deep in the pit of her stomach, a black stone dropped there to torture her with its heaviness. Santino will be happy, she thinks absently, chewing the inside of her cheek as she moves. He’s always wanted this.

The man is keeping pace with her well enough, despite her long legs and the purpose with which she walks to one of the back rooms of the museum.

“Bella,” he says, reaching to stop her, “per favore, he is in a meeting.”

The words put a sour taste in her mouth. Busy, the man is trying to say, too busy for you, for this, right now.

“Trust me, Gianni,” she replies dryly, “he’ll want to make time for this.”

She takes two steps into the room past the other guards, who don’t bother trying to stop her. The room is marked primarily by a high ceiling, which allows all of the paintings to be hung in it in their varying degrees of size. Euphemia recognizes Santino sitting on the bench first, and then another man that he’s talking to. The man looks like he’s just come off of the streets, his hair dark and the scruff that she can see on the side of his face manicured enough to look like he just hasn’t bothered recently.

It takes Euphemia’s brain a few seconds to register the facial features of the man who turns to look at her over his shoulder. He would be nothing, mean nothing, to her if she didn’t see the way his expression flattened, his gaze sweeping over her—calculating. Measuring. Identifying.

He looks dirty, unshowered, covered in soot, and she thinks back to two nights ago when Santino showed up to their engagement party smelling like fire and gunpowder.

Santino stands abruptly. He might be angry, or perhaps worried; it’s hard to tell the difference with him. But she can’t look at him, anyway, her gaze fixed on the stranger who is not much of a stranger at all, who she knows because of the scary stories. The rest of the world may as well be melting down around her, some sick Van Gogh painting, and she can’t look away.

John Wick has dark eyes. Shark’s eyes, she thinks. Black, soulless. Like the glass eyes on a teddy bear. She feels her stomach lurch as fear washes over her in a slick, wet wave, reminding her that she’s already received one bout of stressful news this afternoon.

He watches her. She’s sure he’s sizing her up—that is what John Wick is made to do—but after a second, he glances to Santino, gauging his reaction. If he thinks she's any kind of a threat, he's not letting it show.

“I told you not to let anyone in,” Santi says angrily to Gianni, helpless behind her—because Gianni would have never dared to grab her arm to stop her, would have never thought it acceptable to handle her like street rabble.

“Santi,” Euphie says, feeling very small and very far away and somewhere that her body isn't, “who is that?”

She knows, but she wants to hear him say it.

He steps around the bench, excusing himself from his conversation with Wick and crossing the space between them to guide her out of the room with his hands on her arms. She lets him, not because she isn’t burning with rage but because if Santino doesn’t show her where to go, Euphemia will just stand there, fear driving icy-hot spears through her chest.

He takes her as far as around the corner of the room, maybe to put as much space between her and John Wick as he can afford, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She starts to shrug his hands off of her, and oh, there it is—the shrieking, panging fear, and fury, boiling inside of her. Venomous, indignant. Her mind is a mess of color and noise and she’s vaguely aware that maybe she should be working hard to keep her voice down, but it no longer matters.

A lot of things shouldn’t have happened that did. What’s one more?

“You brought him here?” She can feel her voice bordering on hysteria. “Are you a fucking idiot, Santi? What part of I don’t want John Wick near my life—”

“Euphie, Euphie, Euphie,” Santi says, trying his sweet-talk; condescending, like he’s speaking to a child. “Lower your voice, tesora, and we’ll talk about it.”

Her hand moves of its own accord, a knee-jerk reaction to Santi sweetly telling her to shut up, and she slaps him. Hard. As hard as she can manage. The second her palm connects with the side of his face, and the needles start stinging in her palm, she thinks that she regrets it: but all she can really think about is the pure fear and rage coursing through her body, pummeling adrenaline through her bloodstream until she feels like she’s going to be sick.

And, a little, too, a warmth blooming in her chest: satisfaction.

Santino's head doesn't turn back to her right away. There is a heartbeat of a moment where only silence reigns, where his fingers reach and touch the place her palm had made contact with, like he can't believe she did it. Maybe he can't, but then he'd be a bigger idiot than Euphemia thought.

He turns to face her again and holds up a hand—perhaps to call for a moment of inaction, or to be prepared for a second blow, she’s not sure and she doesn’t care. Santi begins, his voice a low threat, “Do not do anything else you're going to regret, Euphemia.”

Anything else you’re going to regret, he says, as though she will regret having done this.

“Fuck you,” she snaps, her voice rising in volume further yet. The poison reverberates on the high, smooth glass ceiling, bouncing off of the marble walls until it’s all echoing around them. “He knows what I look like, what—what I sound like, he knows my name, Santi, you—”

She's pushing him, hitting his chest; an impatient and weak battering. She wants both to get him away from her as much as possible and keep him close. Santi catches her wrists with bruising force, trapping her and making her look at him.

“Euphemia, basta—if you had waited,” he bites out, “then—”

“I’m pregnant!” The words leave her in a visceral, furious shout, her heart thundering in her chest, her flight or fight demanding one or the other. She rips her wrists from his grip. It feels like her entire body is vibrating. “You fucking idiot—I was late, I just got back from the doctor, and—and you’re not supposed to have him here anyway! You promised me, Santino D’Antonio, you promised me!”

There is a heartbeat of time, of space, where her fiance stares at her like he doesn’t quite think that she’s real. Red blooms on his cheek where her hand made contact and the dark of his pupils has all but swallowed up the beautiful green of his irises. Finally, something seems to kick the gears back into motion, and he plunges on, catching his footing.

“Euphie,” Santi says, reaching for her again, “Euphie, listen to me. John came to me, I didn’t—”

“I don’t need a fucking history lesson, Santino!” Euphemia spits, brushing his hand away from her arm. Blood is rushing through her head, louder and louder, demanding she raise her own volume to be heard over it. “I told you to leave him alone. You insisted, and I thought that was the end of it—you came late to the party that night because of him, isn’t that right? So why is he here, Santi? Why is John Wick near me and my baby?”

Santino stares at her. She can see the flex of his jaw when his teeth clench, trying to maintain what shred of control he has. He swallows, lifting a finger, to indicate one minute, and it takes all of her self-control not to scream at him that he doesn’t get any more minutes. But there is some pleasure in seeing him a little ruffled; to see the way his eyes dart over her face, trying to keep everything collected neatly in his mind, filed away for premium use. She wants to shake him until he is really rattled.

“It may have taken more persuasion than I anticipated,” Santi says finally, at last.

Euphemia makes a sound something like wrecking, like grief, because she knew this was going to happen and he told her it wouldn’t but here they are anyway. It’s a death knell, ringing in her ribcage, in the cavity of her chest. Dead, dead, dead, we’re all fucking dead now, don’t you see it? You, and me, and now our baby, dead like stones.

He continues quickly, over the sound of her agony, “But that doesn’t matter—cara mia, listen to me, it doesn’t matter because now John will do what I ask him to, and we don’t have to worry about anything else. Euphie, Euphie—come here, we'll talk about this.”

She’s going to be sick. The doctor’s words are still rolling around in her head; avoid stress, make sure you sleep and eat well. Can’t be worrying that baby, can we, Miss Volpe? Make sure your fiance does all the work, hm?

“It does matter. It matters the most, Santi, I—I told you to leave him be, I told you, and you said that you would only ask and that would be it—”

She’s grieving, now, lamenting the loss of her happiness, the hysteria taking a melancholic edge in her voice as the sorrow sweeps over her. Santi keeps reaching for her, to try and ground her back to him, and for the first time since she met him she just can’t stand to feel him touching her, saying her name, trying to sweet-talk her. His hands sweep her shoulders, coming up for his thumb to brush the nape of her neck; instinctively, her shoulders scrunch up to disembark them, arms shoving his off of her.

He says, “Tesora, we can talk about this—”

“You did exactly what I asked you not to,” she manages out, taking a step back from him. “I ask you for two things, Santi. Helping my mother, and not putting yourself at war with John Wick. I do not—you should not have asked him at all!”

“Euphie—”

By the time Santino reaches for her again, she’s turning and walking away, her steps unsteady. She’s sure that she’s sweating, or crying, or maybe both or neither and her body is just kicking into overdrive with gut-wrenching sweeps of grief rocking through her body now that she’s got Baba Yaga fifteen feet from her. From her and her baby.

“Euphie!” Santino’s voice echoes down the main hall of the museum, lighter now. Almost like they never argued at all. “We’ll talk when I get home, si? Mi amore?”

Euphemia is certain she’s never heard a sentence more infuriating in her entire life. It sparks something violent in her. It had been dormant, had stepped aside for her mourning, but it catches fire the second Santino says, we’ll talk when I get home.

Incensed, she turns and slides the engagement ring off of her finger, throwing it as hard as she can at him. Gianni had been trailing her, certainly at Santino's behest, and he tries to stop her—but it's too late, the fury inside of her forcing her to move more quickly than Gianni anticipates.

He catches her around the waist and she considers, briefly, the logistics of wrenching Gianni's arm off of her to go and slap Santino again; instead, she watches the expensive engagement ring bounce off of the front of Santino's jacket and clatter on the floor.

The way he tilts his head, as though expecting her to lob it at his face, and the irritated expression that comes over him is almost as good as actually having hit her original target of that pretty face of his.

Then, it’s pure, sheer, furious indignation that crosses Santi’s face, but she has no time to think about what that means for her.

“Fuck you, Santi,” she bites out venomously. “Fuck. You. Don’t fucking bother coming home.”

“Bella,” Gianni says, “we should get you back.”

Euphemia debates slapping Gianni, too, but it would be unfair; in his defense, he did try to keep her out of the room. She turns and marches her way out, the doors slamming shut behind her and the cold air of New York in the fall washing over her. As Gianni speaks on the phone and calls the driver around, she glances up at the sky; gray and soft as wedding silk, it stretches, endless, cut in pieces by the skyscrapers parsing it out.

A fool, she thinks. Santino has always made a fool out of me, and this is no one’s fault but my own.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Two hours later, Euphemia hears him enter the loft. He lets the door click shut softly behind him, not slamming it, not storming through. She expected no less; Santi so rarely lets the anger really take hold of him, so rarely lets himself scream or yell or throw something. I’m marrying a fucking sociopath, she thinks, but there’s no heat to the thought; only exhaustion, only a tiredness that goes bone-deep

Even now, she still thinks of it as present tense: she’s marrying a sociopath, as though she didn’t try to hit him in the face with the engagement ring he picked out for her just hours ago, as though in the end, she will still be his. She will.

“Are you calmed down?” Santino asks, in the way that only he could manage—condescending, and soft. Euphemia can’t withhold the vicious scoff that rolls out of her the second he talks.

“I told you not to come home,” she replies tartly, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are apparently as deaf as you are stupid.”

“So no, then.”

“What do you want me to say, Santi?” Euphemia demands, looking at him now. She’s got a suitcase out but there’s nothing in it; she can’t bring herself to pack, to think about going back home to Tuscany where her mother is waiting, barely sober because she can only stay sober for about a month at a time before she falls back to her old habits. “Why don’t you invite our friend John Wick up for dinner, hm? I’m sure he’d like that, after you did whatever you did to make him show up here. Perhaps you took a page out of that idiot Iosef’s book and killed his new dog?”

“He owes me,” Santino insists, glossing over her needling, “and I will get what I am owed.”

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Do you know how fucking stupid you sound?” she asks, incredulous. “If I die before telling you how incredibly, disgustingly stupid you sound when you say that, then I will—”

Santino kisses her. He does it because he knows that she’s not expecting it, and it has its desired effect; she stills, all of the furious energy like bottled lightning capped again. He kisses her softly, with no rage, but she can feel it woven into the sinew of his posture.

She thinks about slapping him again. But he probably knows that, because he grabs her hands, gripping them in his; the pressure is more relaxing than it is infuriating, which almost drives her mad, but it does what Santino always does. It pulls her apart until all that’s left is the hurt, the fear, welling up inside of her like a tidal wave crashing into the shore.

“He’s doing what I asked,” he murmurs. “And then we’ll be done with John Wick. Mia piccola volpe, look at me.”

“No,” she says, trying to sound angry but it comes out an agonized sound; she’s crying before she can stop herself, tears burning the edges of her eyes and a big, wet gasping breath necessary for her to keep going. “No, I don’t want to look at you anymore, Santi—”

“He’s doing what I ask, and then I promise, you and I will be done with John Wick forever.” His voice is urgent and insistent. “The three of us, tesora. Isn’t that right? You weren’t just saying that to get back at me?”

She nods, numbly. They had been careful, because she’d said she wasn’t ready—but mistakes happened. Pills got forgotten. She wishes that she could have lied about it and kept it secret. Maybe he’d be acting differently now if she wasn’t carrying his child; maybe his face would be something else.

“Euphie,” he whispers, taking her face in his hands. “My perfect, gorgeous Euphie—my greatest piece of art.” He kisses her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. “And the one with the most bite, too, even when you are so ungrateful for the things that I do. My face still hurts.”

“Good,” Euphemia manages out, her voice wobbling. “You deserve it. Idiota.”

“Maybe,” Santi replies. He tucks her against his chest and kisses her hair. “I never thought I would piss you off enough to get you to hit me—and you did cause quite a scene in front of Wick.”

“Stop.” Just the sound of that monster’s name makes her stomach churn. “Stress is bad for the baby.”

He laughs, the first real laugh in what feels like days since he’s decided on this path with John Wick. “Fine, I will not mention him again. But know that after this, it will be done. Permanently. Forever. Si? Tell me you understand, Euphie.”

She’s so tired. She’s so tired down into her core, the kind of tired that doesn’t go away with a nap or a cup of coffee. “Si,” she replies, closing her eyes. “Capisco, Santi.”

Somehow, Santi’s words that things will be done “permanently” with John Wick only manage to make her more uneasy.

She can’t remember what exactly carries her through the rest of the evening. She remembers calling her mother to check on her, to ask if she’s keeping up with her meetings. She can’t bring herself to come clean about the surprise pregnancy; it’s early, anyway, and her mother would only stress her out more.

“Sei la mia stella più preziosa,” her mother says. “Ti amo, Effie.”

“Yes, mama,” Euphie sighs, unable to say the words back. “Buona notte.”

She hits the red end call button on the phone screen, setting it face-down on the countertop and leaning her palms against the marble. God, she knows that she’d fucking kill a man for a drag of a cigarette—but she could never. Not now. Not when she has—

The sound of paper on the countertop stirs her from her half-bent position. Santino slides it across to her, setting a pen down next to her hand. It’s their marriage certificate. He’s already signed it, and while she stares at it numbly, he takes her left hand and puts the engagement ring back on her finger, but this time with the diamond wedding band he’d picked out as well.

“Santi,” she starts, but he tsks his tongue, quieting her. She’s too tired to be offended.

“Sign the certificate, amore,” he says. “Do not fuss. You’re going to stop throwing this ring at me, yes?”

There are a million reasons not to sign it: but the words that came out of her mouth are, “We don’t have the witnesses or the officiant.”

“Do we need a witness or officiant greater than God himself?” Santino replies. He leans against the counter from the other side, watching her. He is polished, pristine. Any remains of her earlier transgression against him are now completely gone, at least the physical marks. She’s sure that he won’t forget very soon that she raised a hand against him. “Sign it, Euphie, and be my wife.”

She stares at the paper. She feels like she’s melting; her life can’t be real anymore, not when John Wick was, just hours ago, feet away from her, and she’s pregnant, and now Santino is asking her to sign their marriage certificate right now.

The implications fill her with dread. What’s the rush? If nothing’s wrong, if they’ll be done with John Wick, what’s the rush?

“You said that you had nothing before me,” Santino says, breaking her out of her eerie, absent-minded disconnect. He brushes the hair from her face. “You will never have nothing again.”

Euphemia signs the certificate in a haze. It doesn’t feel any different after; she doesn’t feel different and neither does Santino in relation to her, and the realization that they had felt married for a few years now sinks down on her.

Santino rounds the counter to her, taking her face and kissing her; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth and eventually just kissing her. His hand smooths over her stomach, admiring, and he brushes their noses together.

“Perfetto e tutto mio,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “Isn’t that right, Euphemia?”

She replies, without thinking, “Si, sono tuo.”

Always, she thinks, always yours, whether I like it or not.

#santino d'antonio/original female character #john wick oc #santino d'antonio/ofc #john wick #spilled ink #c: euphemia volpe #c: santino d'antonio #c: john wick #x: senza tentazioni senza onore #oh yeah baby real good love the SUFFERING #ugh i wish i could convey how much it means to me to have people reading and enjoy this #alas i can only!!!! cry in the tags #thank you everyone <3

22 notes · View notes

suometar · 3 years

Text

youtube

Power song of the day: Wake up by Smash into Pieces

You can not resist, like a moth to a flame -- You know it will burn, but sometimes you enjoy the pain

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus) Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- From a life in fantasy -- Someday you're gonna wake up -- Gonna wake up -- And realize it's not meant to be -- You stumble in the dark cause you close your eyes -- Guided by the sweet talk lullaby -- But someday you will wake up -- You will wake up From a life in fantasy -- Wake up!

You try to cut everyone out of your life -- So no one can question how you can believe the lies

This is your favorite game -- But you're gonna be defeated -- And you're never gonna beat it -- Controls you like a slave -- But you gotta stop pretending -- You won't get a happy ending

(Chorus)

You're in the fire, what do you do? -- You wake up -- The final round is waiting for you

(Chorus)

Why? Well...

I'm coming down from mania.

Which sucks. And here's a glimpse into my 30 or so years experience of this nonsense.

But before I say more I want to say to everyone who I have been venting during the last month or so:

Please don't think that you have contributed in making my situation worse. You haven't. The fuel for all of it comes from within myself. I am nothing but crateful that I have had a chance to vent to someone because otherwise it all would've just clumped inside me and that would've made the situation worse.

And besides, not all venting has been caused just by mania. When I'm manic it doesn't remove the normal thoughts and feelings I have.

When you're stuck in a tar pit created by a certain person for who knows how many years in a row it's obvious it's not just the mania. I think you guys know what that's like :D

Coming down is like a really really really REALLY bad hangover

Except that you can remember every single thing you've done, the things you've felt, the things you've planned, what you thought of. EVERYTHING.

And you KNOW they're all just a result of the chemical imbalance of your own brain.

Coming down doesn't mean necessarily that I'm now depressed. It's just getting back to your normal state from mania.

But the bad hangover is real. If you've experienced that you know what it's like. Regrets after regrets.

What's mania like

That ecstacy of mania is an immense rush you don't really know unless you've experienced it yourself.

It's difficult to describe, but I think falling in love really hard and fast is the closest that describes it best. You have butterflies in your stomach all the time, you're hyperfixating on that one person and you feel invincible, like everything in your life is finally perfect and you're in control like never before.

Or even better: It's like being on speed, except without the drugs. Overstimulated 24-7-365.

Hyperfixation is typical for mania

In my case the hyperfixation can be basically anything from men (real or fictional, doesn't really matter lol) to any action, hobby or even work, totally depends on the situation.

What I do is I dedicate all my time to that one thing and one thing only even though I know it's not healthy.

Thank god I've learned to control it so that it won't take ALL of my time anymore, but it still is there. And I need to cater it to some extent or I won't be able to do anything.

It's like having a parasite you can't get rid of but you can make it behave if you give it some attention from time to time.

What's real and what's not? That is the question

When you're having mania it's sometimes super hard to differentiate what's a real thought and what is based on the illusion created by your own mind. And even though I am nowadays capable to tell the difference of my real thoughts/feelings and the ones fueled by mania the later ones do have an effect on me even though I try not to react to them.

The tricky thing is that your body can't tell the difference of a so called real/normal thought/feeling and one created inside my head fueled by mania.

A manic person wants nothing more than get more of the dopamine that fuels the ecstacy. Which easily can lead to a psychotic episode/period.

The saddest part is that manic person usually looks and behaves exactly like any normal person. You can't tell from outside if someone is having mania unless they choose to show it. Psychotic then usually is clearly psychotic and erratic and behaves totally out of character.

Triggers for mania

Anything can basically be a trigger for mania and they vary from person to person. For me it's usually one of the following:

an extreme negative change in life (such as death, divorce or other big things like that),

finding a new crush,

intensive concentration on some activity,

social media, or

as surprising as it might be: music. Especially any with a faster tempo.

Usually though I have already been somewhat hypomanic before the real mania hits. Hypomania though is very hard to notice because I'm somewhat easily excited and impulsive already by nature.

But I've lived with this so long that I know when it's going overboard. My manic mind just usually chooses to say it's nothing and I believe it like a fool - because it feels so good.

This time the trigger for me was intensive concentrating on writing. While the writing was crucial in easing my general anxiety this time it had this unfortunate side effect.

Nonetheless, I'm not quitting writing. Because the anxiety has eased significantly from when I started. I probably need to change the subject for a while and not to write daily or limit it just for 30 mins a day.

How a new crush can happen when you're married, you ask?

Oh, easily. See, with a manic mind a marriage is nothing but an obstacle. Nothing is but an obstacle that is designed to limit you. Because you're omnipotent. And obstacles - well, they're made to be conquered or plowed through.

In my case I've chosen to keep my crushes online and physically as far away from me as possible. I've made a mistake of crushing into someone irl and that was UGLY for all parties involved.

Thirsting over someone from afar online while remaining happily married is by far a better option.

How to control mania or turn it off

Yes, you can turn it off. The problem with that is that usually manic person doesn't

feel like something is wrong, and

doesn't want to get down from the high.

But there are things you can do to get it end sooner.

Log off from all social media. Seriously. Don't just turn notifications off - LOG OFF.

If that's not enough, remove all the social media apps from your phone. You can always install them again.

Turn off your phone if it's possible.

Don't use computer unless it is absolutely necessary - like for paying bills. You don't need to find out what age Barbara Streissand is at 2:30am - or, well, ever.

Social media is by far the biggest contributor for mania. The apps are designed to give us a dopamine rush each time we scroll down any feed and see a new post. That's how they keep us stuck on them.

When you already have an issue with the dopamine rush using social media just makes it worse.

You won't miss anything if you log off for two days or a week. SERIOUSLY. But it will improve your well-being tremendously.

The absolutely best thing you can do is to create as dull environment to yourself as possible. That there's nothing artificial you can drown yourself into. Best place to be in mania is in the middle of the woods without any mobile signal - trust me.

Take up an activity where you do something with your hands. Hands-on approach is crucial.

Doing things with your hands will root you into the real world.

It doesn't matter what it is: cooking, cleaning, handcrafts, drawing or painting (NOT on a computer or ipad but with real pencils/crayons/paints/brushes/etc).

Remember not to do just that though. Go out (without your phone). Enjoy the nature. Listen to the sounds of the outside world. Don't close your senses with headphones. Read. Watch out of the window. Stare at the wall. Watch the paint dry.

LET YOURSELF GET BORED.

Just stay away from any electronic devices.

The hangover is horrible but it'll pass. And you will feel better afterwards when you're functional again.

------

It's not easy. None of us chose to live with bipolar. It's always inherited. But there are ways to work through it.

I hope this helps at least someone.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

#bipolar disorder #bipolar #bipolar mania #coping skills #mental health tips #thoughts from the crypt #long post

14 notes · View notes

everyhowlmarksthedead · 4 years

Text

❛ EMPTINESS ❜

with Neron “Creeper” Vargas.

Request: Can I please get a creeper x reader. The reader has her own bad ass job that get her shot and in to a hospital and creeper can’t contact her. Then find out she in the hospital in critical condition by the cops. You could end this however you like. Thanks

BY ANON

Warnings: a little painful.

Word count: about 1.6k

Aurora says: I didn't study about medicine, sorry. I just like drama. this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist.

You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

The two shots impacted your chest faster than you would expect, but even so, you could feel them ripping your skin until getting stuck in your right lung and ribs. With no exit wounds. You could feel your own blood spilling out and staining your clothes, wetting your skin in an agonic way, while your body was falling down to the floor close to the warm gun you fired just one time. You could hear your partner claiming for an ambulance through the walkie, holding you between his arms and begging you to keep your eyes open, but it was so dark that you thought they were already closed. Your lungs were getting emptied, running out of air, bit by bit. Your pulse was descending too, even if the pain wrapping your body was increasing your tension.

The last thing you could hear was the sirens coming closer and the intense cry of your partner. After that, there was just silence, darkness and peace.

Creeper was worried, after a whole day without knowing anything about you. He knew that you were having hard days in the police station, but you usually find one minute to text him or call him. He was totally desperate, waiting at the porch of the clubhouse for you to come. But when he saw another patrol coming, that it wasn't yours, all the crew got up from their seats to run towards the sheriff of Santo Padre.

“Should be convenient that you come with us”. Your boss simply said.

And it was more than enough for him to jump into his bike about to die of a heart attack. He already knew that something bad happened. Something very bad.

His world falls into pieces, stopping suddenly his steps under the frame door. The shock of seeing you covered by tubes, and a breathing apparatus fixed on your mouth, makes his legs shake. Bishop has to grab him before faltering, helping him to walk to the bed. Tranq moves the couch close to it, making your boyfriend sitting there. Holding your free hand with his, leaning forward over the mattress, he breaks into an inconsolable crying. The worst part is that you can hear him. You want to tell him that you are okay, that everything is going to be fine. But your lips don't move. Your body doesn't respond at any order your brain gives to it.

You are surrounded by a blindly whiteness, trying to find an exit. No matter where you run to, there's nothing. There isn't a road, or a door, or a hole. Nothing. You begin to cry too, screaming his name until ripping your throat. But nothing. Terrified you let your body fall to the ground, curling your legs to your chest, wrapping it with both arms and burying your face into the gap. You just want to go home, stop feeling pain, stop feeling the emptiness that is consuming you. A disgusting sensation that you are trying to fight against.

The next few days you were conscious of all the visits you had. Your parents, your co-workers, the crew… Creeper was still there, every single second, holding your hand, talking to you. You heard the doctor telling him that some patients, after waking up from a coma, could listen to what was going on around them. He used to look back on the dates you two had before starting your relationships. When you went to the tacos food trucks and had dinner on his bike. When he brought you to Los Angeles to meet the neighborhood where he grew up in. When you were chased out from the cinema to laugh too loud. The first Mayan party, where he introduced you to his brothers, his family.

You were an eternity sitting in the same position, hearing his voice breaking as the night was coming. You could feel him suddenly waking up, shaking you a little, and seconds after, his lips pressing your forehead for some long minutes. You used to touch every single part of your anatomy he kissed with so much love and pain, trying to really feel something. But it was like an empty gesture. Like if your heart was dead, only pumping the blood through your veins.

When he was running out of ideas for talking to you about, Ezekiel brought him a book. You used to tell him that his voice could calm your most rebel demon inside your head, and he needed to make you know that he was there the whole time. Not caring about the fact if you could hear him or not. He didn't move from your side, more than to go to the bathroom, where he used to hide to smoke. You knew because you could smell it. And for the first time, it wasn't disgusting. These small and brief details were the ones which let you know you continued alive, that it wasn't somekind of illusion after death and that it wasn't a situation to live for the whole eternity.

Of course, you had a lot of time to reconsider your life, what you would like to do as soon as you could wake up. Being with him, was your main reason to do it. To live. To breathe by yourself again. And you were fighting every single second to boost your damaged lung. To strengthen it. You begin to move all the time. Shaking your hands, your arms. Jumping. Screaming. Anything to actually move your real body, until you were exhausted. Resting some minutes to start again.

You were doing it, until your little finger did a small stretch over the back of his hand. Like a soft caress. Or a try of it.

Creeper freaked out, jumping from his couch under the attentive look of Angel and Gilly. He didn't need to ask if they watched it. They talked in silence with his widened eyes and the surprised gesture of their faces.

“Hey, hey, baby!” Leaning on the bed, he puts one of his hands on your cheek to gently stroke it. “Can yo—Can you do it again?”

A suffocating heat was burning down your anatomy, opening and closing your fingers trying to do it again, while the tears were wetting your shirt. Feeling a fire growing inside your right lung, consuming it before being able to fill it with air. Like a phoenix rising from his ashes.

A deep breath switched on your body, suddenly raising a hand to pull out the tube inside your mouth and your throat, opening your eyes and feeling an incessant grief in the pit of the stomach. Turning to the edge of the bed, you throw down some saliva and bile to the floor. The tears are falling through your cheeks, feeling a mix of sensations piling up inside your chest. The emptiness had gone. You finally could feel the warm touch of Creeper on you, before falling asleep as soon as your back met the mattress.

It's been a month since that day and, even if you continue feeling some discomfort in your chest, the doctor discharges you. Setting an appointment for the next week. Falling down in your shared bed with Neron, you sink your nose into the pillow, breathing your mixed scents in it. You have talked about how you could hear him and everything that was happening around you, while you were induced into the coma, and you know that he hasn't stopped thinking about it. But you haven't talked about that you reconsider your whole entire life.

When he sits on the bed, looking at you turning towards him, you stretch your arms to hold him and urge your boyfriend to lie by your side. Resting your face in his shoulder, while he hugs you tightly, you try to find the correct words to utter.

“When I was… there, I thought about us. I mean… it was impossible to not do it, hearing you talk about our dates and our adventures”.

You two chuckles, getting comfy enough to face each other.

“It's been the best years of my life and… I can't see me living it without you”. Pursing your lips, you wrinkle slightly your nose. “I want to marry you. I want to… have a family with you. I want everything, Neron”.

“I was about to propose to you that night”. He confesses licking his bottom lip, leaving some caresses on the back of your head. “We have… risky jobs, mama. And If I have to die, I wanna do it knowing that you are my wife, and that you are… conscious of how much I love you”.

You can't help but draw a fleeting smile, before leaning to press your lips on his in a dearly gesture. Kissing him with the need you have felt during three long weeks.

“I love you, Neron… I love you more than I can put into words”. You're almost crying again, with a knot inside your throat breaking your voice.

His arms get closed strongly around you, as if it was possible to melt and mix your anatomies in one. You can't imagine a life with him, having had to live without his touches, his kisses and his hugs for what seemed like an eternity. Without can avoid your cry to get loud, you sink your face under his chin, starting to shake again just with the fact of thinking about it. About the emptiness that wrapped your body for too long, until you were able to wake up.

“Ain't gonna let anyone hurt you again, I promise, mama. And I will keep my promise even if ain't close to you”.

✨ Tag list:

@starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @thesandbeneathmytoes @phoenixhalliwell @thewarriorprincessxo @sugary-x-sweet @multiyfandomgirl40 @imanerdychubbyqueen @iambabyharry @firebenderwolf @itsanofrommesir @noz4a2 @peaches007 @edonaspanca @irenne-stans @skyofficialxx @that-chick212

#mayans mc x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc #mayans x reader #neron creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas

135 notes · View notes

yanderecandystore · 4 years

Text

Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh

I came back from the deepest pit of Hell, and came with some gay shit-

I hope you enjoy 🐑🍫♥️👀😋

Warnings:

•The incarnation of Be gay, do crimes.

•That's it.

•And also sketch at the end.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Good looking guys are the worst. [Yandere bullies x M!Reader x Yandere M! Delinquent]

Running after school ended up becoming routine at this point.

You can't help but feel exhausted every time you do.

You run for your dear life every time you know they're coming with their friends to beat the shit out off you.

Bastards can't even do their dirty job themselves, they need to call their besties to do it for them. Well, sucks to be them, you aren't giving up own coming back home without a scratch.

Your mom can't know this type of stuff is happening to you at school. Your parents payed for you to enter in that damn school, and you are not going to make their hard work be for nothing.

"- Come back here, [Y/N]!!" Alexandra yells at the top of her lungs. For a pretty daddy's little girl, she makes you feel way more scared than her brother. And her brother, Adrien, is bad enough as he is.

You can't tell if Adrien hates you or if he is obsessed over you, he likes to beat you up but at the same time he can't leave you alone. But hey, who cares? You're fucked either way.

They're getting too close to you. You thought that running towards the more dark areas of town would save your ass, but since it has been a week that they haven't used you as their stress toy, they're pretty pissed.

Actually, you're stuck in a paradox right now.

If they catch you, you're dead.

If they don't catch you today, they're going to make sure to be more violent whenever they can catch you, and then you're dead.

Like a snowball effect. Of death.

Oh, you probably shouldn't be thinking about the "what if's" of if they catch you, you should be thinking about running!

"- Aaaahhhh- fuck!" After entering alley after alley, you meet your worst nightmare, a dead end.

You can hear them coming near, you decide to hide, maybe your zigzagging made them lose you.

You hide behind some garbage. You feel at home.

Your heart beats are on your ears now. You can only hear your hitched breathing and uncontrollable heart beats. You try to calm yourself down.

"- Goddammit."

"- Where is he?"

You can hear them.

You can hear them looking around the dead end, and them walking away.

And then, you can't hear them anymore.

'Am I safe?'

You decide to come out of your hiding spot after some minutes.

Terrible idea, honestly. You should had left them go completely away.

You get out of the dead end, when-

"- Hey, you!"

A raspy male voice yells. You aren't familiar with this voice. You can't be sure if it's talking with you. You just froze in fear that it could be one of the Coldwell twin's friends.

"- Look at me when I'm talking to you, idiot."

Damn, rude. You turn around and see a couple of boys wearing a school uniform. Is different than yours.

"- The fuck you doing around here?" You look at each of the boys, each one is buff and seems ready to break you. But the one who is talking with you, is honestly not that intimidating.

He is handsome. But, he doesn't strike you as a delinquent. He has reddish brown hair and brown eyes.

"- Answer me, rich boy. What are you doing here? We thought we told you fucks to stop showing your faces around here." Oh, okay, this situation is starting to become worst and worst every second.

Firstly, they have baseball bats and crowbars and pipes as weapons. The twins would only beat you until you were unconscious.

This guys will either kill you or break your bones.

Secondly, he is yelling at you. At any minute now, the twins and their friends will come back to see what's happening.

"- Look, this has to be a misunderstanding- I-I'm not here to fight!" You're here to get the fuck out!

"- Awn, did you get lost?"

"- Must be pretty bad not having mommy and daddy to pick you up."

"- Will they miss their spoiled little brat?"

Some of the boys taunt you. Laughing in the process.

They keep mentioning something about you being a rich kid. Maybe is because of your uniform?

Most kids that go to Amaryllis Academy come from rich families. And although your parents paid for your education at the academy, you're nowhere near as wealthy as the other students. Pretty much the contrary.

"- I'm, I'm not-" You try to come up with something. Something to explain why you're here, and why they shouldn't break you down.

Nothing comes up.

"- What's your name?" Says the brown haired boy. Ignoring his friends comments about you.

"- [Y/N]." You say timidly as the boy starts to walk towards you. You give one step back and he comes faster, making you too scared of running away.

He is in front of you. Staring at your eyes.

"- So, what are you-" He was about to ask something, when someone comes in screaming your name.

"- [Y/N]!!! There you-" Adrien was caught off when he saw the boy and the other guys surrounding you. Alexandra face screams surprise and disgust.

"- …"

Both parties look at each other. Silent treats are being made just with stares. You're so glad you don't know what the fuck is going on.

The tension in the alley grows immensely. Everyone is silent for a solid minute before the boy on your side says something.

"- Would you look at that, our pretty boy brought to us some friends." He says while he wrap his arm around your shoulder. You can tell he is trying to piss the twins and is working.

"- Evening, Jack. Didn't notice we were in the sewers until I saw you rats." Both twins cross their arms. Honestly, if you could move, you would use their little conversation as a distraction and go home.

"- Yeah, if you don't like it here, why am I'm seeing your ugly faces?" Says the boy on your shoulder, apparently named Jack. You start to feel a little embarrassed about his arm around you. You aren't in the discussion, yet you're in-between them.

"- Because you have eyes."

"- And clearly you lack them, since you're in our territory, schmuck."

They keep going on, and honestly you don't care about any past relationships your bullies have with this guy, you just, really want to go home and take a bath. You honestly stopped paying attention at a certain point. You can only hear yelling and stuff.

You zoomed out for a bit, until you feel something harshly press itself own your face.

Oh, the whole alley went silent. Everyone looks shocked, well, except for Jack who is grinning at the twins, and one of his friends who has the biggest smile you can think of.

And then you noticed what actually happened, Jack had successfully kissed your cheek. You aren't exactly happy with that, but hey, the twins look pissed.

That's a win!

"- How about this?" Jack says smugly towards them.

They're furious, you don't know what just happened, but they ended giving up on beating you up.

And by that, they decided they wanted to beat the shit out off Jack.

Their friends are holding them so they can't actually do it. Bummer, you wanted to see them fight.

Apparently they can't start a fight with this guys right here, because that would start an even bigger fight between schools, but you don't care, this is great!

If you keep Jack by your side, they can't do anything!!

"- Get out of my face." Jack says, and the twins go away. They're going to kill you for not coming with them, but going to do worse with Jack for protecting your ass. It'll be worth it.

You start to walk towards the direction of your home, and you thank Jack, thinking that nothing bad will happen.

And of course.

Something bad happened.

"- Hey, where the hell are you going?"

"- Uhn, home?" You answer a little confused, after all, they didn't want you to be there in the first place.

"- What, just like that? I think you don't know how things work around here."

He stand his hand towards you. Oh, money? Is that what he wants for helping you out?

You pick whatever you got on your pocket, 3 bucks, and put in his hand.

"- Sigh.." He sighs, and then grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stare at his eyes.

"- …." He is thinking about his next words. And you're thinking about how much better would it be if you just when home earlier!

"- I'll see you tomorrow." He whispers in your ear so that his friends don't hear (bitch, they already know-). He is not asking, he is commending you to come back here.

Well, at least he didn't take the money. You managed to come home safe and sound.

"- And that's gentlemen, why the cute ones are the worst." Jack says, lighting a cigarette with his buddies against the wall. Annoyed at the thoughts of seeing you again. Thoughts that can't go away.

꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep stuff #yandere #yandere oc #yandere bullying #yandere drawing #yandere x reader #yandere twins #yandere scenarios #yandere delinquent #yandere oc x reader #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh #male reader #male x male #yandere male #I shouldn't have written yaoi #I'm sorry

536 notes · View notes

windhamsrotunda · 3 years

Text

Underneath Retread Aesthetic - Jami Morgan x OC Anne Martin.

Pairings: Jami Morgan (Code Orange) x O Anne Martin

Summary: Jami Morgan is your average, metal dude who plays in a hardcore band called Code Orange. One day, he bumps into an unfamiliar woman on the streets of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania from his childhood in which he doesn't remember. He then will find himself the most dominating man who will take over Anne.

Warnings: 18+ Readers Only, Explicit Language, Descriptive Sexual Themes, Angst.

Word Count: 1.3k+

Tag: @abadamn, hope you enjoy!

Jami watched as an unfamiliar woman from his childhood in the streets of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania approached him.

"Hi," She greeted.

"Hi," Jami said, unsure of this woman.

"What's your name?" The woman asked bluntly, eyes beginning to pierce into Jami's as he gave her eye contact.

"The name is Jami, Jami Morgan."

She smiled,

"My name is Anne Martin. It's nice to meet you, Jami." Anne lended her hand out for Jami to shake.

"Anne?" His eyes had lit up, as if he saw a ghost. As soon as his calloused hand touched her's, she had a feeling that he was a drummer, and her long lost best friend from childhood.

"You play drums, I'm assuming?" She questioned, being dumb as Jami let go of her hand and looked down at his. Nodding to himself, he answered:

"Yeah, I play drums in a band called Code Orange." He shook his loose hand, face filled with puzzlement.

"Is everything alright?" Anne asked in concern,

He looked up, his eyes bored back into her's.

"Yeah, no big deal. That's what you get for playing drums for half your life." Jami chuckled, as he sighed in relief, his phone buzzed against his pocket. "Hold on," He said, turning his back and answering his phone. "Hello?" He spoke.

"Yeah, you need to come in tomorrow. We're headlining a US tour with Slipknot." Reba, his bandmate's voice boomed over the phone with ecstaticness.

"Oh shit." Jami's mood turned from nonchalant, to excited. "Okay, I will see you guys then. Bye." He hung up the phone, and turned his attention back to Anne.

"What was that?" She said

"I'm touring with Slipknot." Jami abruptly said, trying to keep his cool.

Anne smiled and replied: "Congratulations, Jami!" He gave a smile back.

"Well, I really have to go. Before I leave, you can have my phone number.

***-***-****"

"Okay, it was nice meeting you Jami. Stay safe out there." They said their goodbyes as Anne watched Jami leave.

That night, Anne thought about Jami in her bed. Her head rested on the headboard as she fantasized about him. Closing her eyes, she pictured Jami all soaked from the rain, with his clothes stuck to his skin. She remembered every little detail about him when she was a child. The little things that make your heart full of butterflies instead of in the pit of your stomach. She pictured her with him, kissing passionately under the balcony.

[SMUT AHEAD]

"Anne, I want you to fuck you so badly until you're under the skin." Jami proclaimed in between kisses. She breathed in his scent, hand resting on his face. Her eyes twinkled, this was a sign that she trusted him. "Get on the bed and face down for me." He seductively said, eyes gazing at Anne's naked glorious body. She swayed her ass right in front of Jami as she crawled in bed.

"Can't believe we are doing this," She breathed. He chuckled lightly, "Me either. But you promise to be a good girl?" Anne nodded. "Can I put this on you?" He grabbed out a collar, holding it up to show Anne.

Anne's womanhood was throbbing when she saw the collar. She whined while he put it on her neck. Hot and bothered feelings rushed through her garden, she touched herself while she was face down, ass up for Jami. "No," he smacked her hand away, earning a frustrated moan from her. "You need me to punish you?" Her head fell onto the sheets, Jami positioned himself in front of Anne, pulling her by her waist to feel such an unfamiliar feeling.

His quickened his breathing and pace mixed in with Anne's loud moans, he screwed her until she didn't know her name. But only his.

When he was done, he pulled out, Jami smacked her ass lightly. "You just got your ass worshipped." He whispered, removing the collar he was pulling on from her neck.

"Fuck." Anne's phone buzzed on her dresser, her eyes lit up when it said: "Jami." She answered quickly.

"H-hello?"

"Hey! What's up? Just thought I'd call and see what you were up to." He spoke over the phone, then noticed her tone. "What's wrong, Anne?"

"Nothing, I'm tired."

"Are you sure? We can talk about it—-" She cut him off

"I gotta go, I'm sorry Jami." She hung up automatically, she didn't want to tell him that she was thinking about him fucking her. It would ruin their long lost friendship. Sighing to herself, she rested her head upon the headboard once again and listened to the rain beat down on the roof of her house. Fuck, how could one be so damn hot when it's been a hot minute? She thinks, shaking her head to snap out of the heated thought, she fell asleep instead.

Anne knew deep down she wouldn't recognize Jami from it being so long, he and her went separate ways for duplicate reasons a long ass time ago when he formed his band Code Orange. She fell asleep until 5am, disturbed by a text from Jami.

"Hey, hope you're okay. 🖤" - Jami

Her groggy eyes skimmed the text and texted back:

"I'm okay. It's just ever since we separated and saw each other in the streets of Pittsburg 7 years later, I didn't even recognize you. But I remember your name and every little thing you've taught me."

*Jami is typing*

He replied:

"I didn't either, but I remembered you too. I kept you in my thoughts for 7 years straight. Couldn't stop thinking about you. Shit, I don't know why we separated in the first place. Promise me that you'll stay in my life?"

Anne looked at the text, her eyes beginning to form tears. She texted back:

"I promise I will stay in your life as long as I need, Jami. I'm so sorry I left you." Getting sad vibes, she shut off her phone and drove to Jami's house to confront him in person. Actions speak louder than words, right?

Driving in the car, a favorite song of her's and Jami's came up.

"The Night I Drove Alone" by Citizen

"I ran away from you,

Now look how far I've got

I shared some secrets that I hope you'd keep

They're words that don't come out.

And I should've crashed the car

The night I drove alone.

Escape from August cold

And you talk like someone else."

The "And you talk like someone else," got Anne in the feels, trying not to tear up, she kept driving, the morning she drove alone. The sun peeked over the clouds, hands on the steering wheel and all - she pulled up to Jami's driveway.

"Hey, come on in Anne." Jami was at the door already, opening the door to his home for her to enter. She walked up the steps of the front porch and entered inside his home. Kicking her shoes off nonchalantly, she looked at Jami. "Make yourself at home," he said, smiling softly. She cut him off before he could finish his sentence -

"Jami, I have something to tell you."

"And what's that?"

She put her hands in Jami's, his eyebrows cocked up as Anne muttered:

"I think we should finish off what we started."

"What do you mean…?"

Her pierced blue eyes locked with Jami's, she whispered:

"7 years ago, when we were in bed, you made love to me that night. It was a night I'll never forget." Jami's eyes turned from serious to dark.

"You seriously want to go there, sweetheart?" He backed her into the entrance door of his home, her back hitting against the wooden door.

"I'm gonna show you who I was 7 years ago." He whispered, pinning her arms above her head. Earning a low moan from her, she stared into the eyes of him with no sign of mercy or fear of Jami Morgan. He was a grown ass man, with no filter. He knew what he was capable of and he could show Anne and other girls how it's done.

He picked her up by her thighs without effort, leading her into the unfamiliar bedroom, where there was a king sized luxurious bed and a nightstand next to it. He laid her down on the bed like a princess.

A/N: I'm editing this post tomorrow, I'm going to finish it though.

#Jamimorgan #code orange #smut #angst #fanfic #fanfiction #minorsdni #18only

3 notes · View notes

satansphatass · 3 years

Text

Just like old times - Platonic Tommy x Tubbo

Word count: 1800

Trigger warnings: idk maybe homelessness?

Angst/platonic/fluff

Summary: Tubbo comes to see Tommy in exile.

***

It had been too long since Tubbo had seen his best friend, he still felt bad for exiling him but he had to do what was right for his country. It had been rough the first couple of days, he caught himself turning to tell his right hand man about the animals that he had seen, or a joke that someone had told him, only to be met with silence. It was the hardest decision he had ever made - but it was the right choice, or so he hoped.

He was excited, they would be able to listen to their discs and talk, he could tell Tommy all about his new projects!

He hadn't seen Tommy's new house yet so he didn't really know where he was going but he followed the compass that Wilbur had gifted him: it was his most prized possession, it was in his hand at all times - he couldn't be seen without it. He focused on rowing his little wooden boat, going faster and faster, he couldn't wait to see his best friend - it would be just like old times.

He could see the sillhouette of an island in the distance infront of the beautiful setting sun. He glanced down at his compass, it was pointing in the direction of the island - this must be where Tommy lived!

***

Tommy threw his armour down into the pit, the armour he had worked so hard for, had almost died for - gone. The explosion bought him back to the present, he regretfully looked down into the pit; it had definitely been blown to pieces. The hole was covered in dirt and Tommy looked Dream in his mask eyes.

"Well Tommy, I have errands to run - I'll leave you to it, just follow the rules and nobody will get hurt."

Tommy nodded in understanding having heard this little speech almost everyday since his exile. What he didn't understand was why Dream - his friend, had to leave so soon.

"Can't you stay?" He pleaded "I'm so fucking bored!"

"I've told you Tommy," Dream insisted "I'm busy."

He knew not to disagree, it had caused too many arguments.

He watched as Dream walked off into the distance: going to do god knows what. He walked morosely back to ~tnret~ and pulled out his compass, all he wanted was to see Tubbo - just like old times.

***

Tubbo ran up the shore, only stopping to straighten his tie. He didn't once stop to wonder if Tommy even wanted to see him. He saw a tent on the bank and assumed that was where he lived - it was a bit shabby but he was sure that that was just a temporary home from when he first arrived.

He skipped up to it and opened the flap to see a disheveled looking Tommy laying on his bed, staring up at the top of the tent.

He paused.

"Tommy?"

"Go away," he said "I know you're just in my head - Tubbo doesn't want to see me."

Tubbo stared at him, was that really what Tommy thought? Had he gone insane?

"No big man! I'm right here!"

He just rolled onto his side, ignoring the president. Tubbo pushed his legs to the side and sat on the bed, he placed a hand on his back - feeling him tense up under his touch.

"Is that really you?"

"Yeah man - It's me!"

Tommy looked up at him through blurred eyes, and walked off. Tubbo sat there in confusion, was he not happy to see him? He jumped up and followed the taller boy, he was sat on the beach looking longingly into the water.

"What's your deal dude? I thought you would like to see me."

Tommy looked up with an exasperated look on his face,

"You exiled me!"

"It was best for the country!"

"I thought we were friends." he said in a broken voice.

Tubbo sat down next to him, "We are, Your my best pal!"

He pulled him in for a hug, expecting resistance as usual but he slumped right into him. He was cold to the touch and his skin had a pinkish tone to it.

"Why don't we get somewhere warm?"

Tommy nodded and accepted his hand - following him to Logsteadshire. He entered the little blue house that Wilbur had built and sat down at his table, Tubbo sitting opposite him. He looked up to see Tubbo giving him a concerned look.

"Are you okay man? You're looking kinda rough."

"I'm fine." he snapped.

Tubbo gave him a proper look down, his hair was all grown out and covered in filth. His eyes had lost their blue vibrancy and had dark purple bags under them, his clothes were all ripped and filthy. His shoes had floppy soles and his cheeks were sunken in.

"No, you're not. Let's get you fixed up."

He opened up his bag and pulled out his knife ANd FuCKinG sTabBEd HiM jk, he tugged at strands of Tommy's hair and chopped some of the matted parts off, hoping to tidy it up a bit. He then wiped some of the muck off of his face and attempted to stitch up the rips in his clothes - he always carried a needle and thread, it was in his little emergency bag that he carried everywhere - 'you never know what you might need!' he constantly argued.

By the time he was finished, he did look a little better but still not the Tommy he knew. The Tommy he knew had fluffy blond hair that he loved to place flowers in. The Tommy he knew had bright blue eyes that shone in the dark. The Tommy he knew was always happy.

It was starting to get slightly darker now and he could see some mobs off in the distance, just past the barrier of torches that kept them out. He adjusted his sword, just incase.

"Why don't you put on your armour Tommy? There might be some skeletons hidden in the forest, just waiting for someone."

"Don't be so paranoid all the time."

"I'm not! I just don't want you to get hurt!"

This struck something deep in Tommy, if he didn't want him to get hurt then why did he exile him? Why did he send him away with nothing but a few pieces of 'blue'? Why did nobody come to check on him?

The only person who cared was Dream.

“I don’t have any armour.” he said shortly.

"Why not? You've been here for ages now!"

Ages?! How did he not know how long they had been apart? Had he not been counting? Tommy had been marking down the days - the days he spent all alone. It had been 2 months 3 weeks and 5 days. Almost 3 months since he had seen his best friend. He had been counting down the days, he thought that Tubbo would come to see him every week! every day! That's what best friends did, wasn't it? What could be more important than him?

He swallowed his questions and insecurities.

"Dream takes it."

"Why? He has his own - what does he need it for?!"

"He blows it up, so I can't try anything."

Tubbo stared at him astonished.

"That's not right Tommy, I asked him to escort you and that's it! He shouldn't be doing all- all that!"

"It's fine Tubbo," he insisted "Dream's my friend."

"No he's not! He- he's manipulating you!"

Of course he wasn't, Dream was his friend. He had helped him with everything! He owed it all to Dream. He had helped organise the beach party - the beach party that only he had showed up to. He had even helped him and Ghostbur build Logsteadshire!

Dream wasn't manipulative, was he?

"Dream's my friend." He repeated weakly.

"Can't you see Tommy? That's not what a friend does! I've never done that!"

That was true, Tubbo had never taken his stuff. But had he been with him during the hardest time of his life?

No, instead he had exiled him from his home.

"Then why didn't you come to see me?"

He couldn't really answer that question, why hadn't he? Sure, he had been busy with L'manburg - but there were plenty of other people that could've stepped in for him. He had been laughing and having a good time while Tommy was stuck alone, alone with Dream.

He felt rotten.

"I'm sorry man... I was- busy."

"Busy with what?"

He paused, "L'manburg."

"Oh. I see."

The disappointment in his voice was worse than if he had been angry. He felt like he had done something wrong. He hadn't, had he?

It was for L'manburg.

They stayed in silence for a bit longer, the silence that they used to experience without it being awkward.

He felt as if he barely knew the blond boy next to him.

"What do you want to do?" He asked hesitantly.

Tommy paused and suddenly pulled out a disc - chirp, Tubbo's favourite.

"We can listen to it, just like old times!"

Seeing the sudden glow on Tommy's filthy face made him incapable of saying no - he just wanted his best friend back, happy, outgoing and blunt. None of this closed off and quiet bullshit.

He jumped up and ran off outside. Tubbo quickly followed in pursuit, giggling in excitement.

He found Tommy sat at the back of his beat-up tent next to a jukebox. He quickly flopped to the floor - his formal jacket getting a bit muddy.

He dropped the black and red disc into the box and waited for the music to start up. The upbeat tune suddenly filled his ears - he closed his eyes and reminisced over all times they had sat watching the sunset together on that little bench by L'manburg.

He slowly opened his eyes to see the sunset slowly dipping past the horizon, his mouth quirked up in a smile.

It was just like old times.

#tommyinnit #tommy and tubbo #tubbo myct #tubbo #tubbolive #mcytumblr #tommy mcyt

12 notes · View notes

chokemedaddyclown · 5 years

Text

Big Bad Wolf

Bob Gray x Reader | Smut Request

Anon Request: Any chance of a bob gray Drabble about him finding a girl outside his house crying after her boyfriend breaks up with her, like he lures her in by comforting her and then fucks her silly like the creepy pervert he is, very specific request I know but I feel like he'd definitely be one to take advantage of a vulnerable girl.

A/N | WARNING: I made this very filthy and degrading. With that being said, I need to put a trigger warning. If anyone is sensitive to: degradation, rough sex, bodily fluids and/or CNC kink (Consensual Non-consensual), Please DO NOT READ. This 5,000+ word bad boy turned out to be kinda dark. This shit is nasty, and I should probably be ashamed of myself.

××××

Today had turned out to be one of the worst days of your life. A night out with your boyfriend had turned into a complete shitshow. Silly you, you had thought that maybe he had taken you out and been acting so nervous the whole time because he was going to propose to you.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Instead, here you were; dumped out on your ass, alone and bawling your eyes out as you sat on the sidewalk in front of an old rickety house on Neibolt Street.

"'Fraid I'm gonna have to ask why a pretty little thing like you is crying in front of my doorstep," a gravelly voice called from behind you.

You gasped, your head snapping around towards the sound to be met by an unusually tall, thin man that stood in the doorway of the house. He was wearing an old pair of slacks, with a billowy long-sleeved shirt that was stained with what looked like white paint. He had long, spindly limbs, like a spider -- he looked downright malnourished, with a receding hairline to boot.

He had a vacant stare in his piercing blue eyes as he gazed down at you, they seemed to look through you more than they actually looked at you. A small smile formed on his face, revealing two sharper teeth in the front of his mouth.

He seemed a bit.. Odd..

Okay, he was really odd, and even odder looking -- creepy, even. But there was something about him that seemed almost charming at the same time, and you couldn't help but stay put right where you were. Any other time, your better instincts would tell you to get the hell out of there, but no such thoughts popped into your conciousness now.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, smoothing down your dress over your knees as you stood up, sniffling and feeling a little more than embarrassed by your current predicament.

"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry," you choked. "Just a bad day.. I didn't know anyone was-"

He chuckled lightly. "I know a broken heart when I see one," he said, giving you a knowing nod. His eyes were narrowed at you in a peculiar way. "Why don't you step in? Get yourself together before you go on your way. Little thing like you shouldn't be around here alone, especially not in the state you're in."

Well, he did have a point, didn't he?

"I wouldn't want to impose," you gave him a small head shake.

"Not imposing at all, you'd brighten an old man's day," he croaked, opening the door wider to the inside of his house, ushering you in.

Something inside you was telling you not to go in, to just walk away and get as far away from this menacing place as possible, but it was too late. The motioning of his long, bony fingers and his smile convinced you otherwise. You took a few small steps forward, still apprehensive as you looked up to him. His frame was large and lurching, and it was obvious that he wouldnt take no for an answer.

You gave him a small smile as you walked past him. You could feel his eyes moving over your body as you entered through the door. It was a dirty feeling to know that he was leering at you, and yet there seemed to be not a whole lot you could do to stop yourself from going right along with him anyway.

The floorboards of the old house creaked as you stepped through the door. The house was dimly lit, and the smell inside of it was musty, with dust seemingly covering the whole place. Something was very off about the place and the man as a whole.

"So, what's your name?" You asked, turning back to face him as he closed the door quickly.

His large frame turned towards you. "The name is Bob Gray, and you, pretty thing?"

The way he said "Pretty thing" made your skin crawl, but it also made a familiar heat rise in the pit of your stomach.

"It's (Y/N)," you said shyly, brushing a piece of loose hair behind your ear.

"Well, (Y/N), wanna tell me why you were out there crying?" Bob questioned, cocking his head at you as he took another step forward.

"My- my boyfriend dumped me," you admitted, chewing the side of your lip.

"Awwe," he cooed, curling his top lip to reveal his sharpened teeth again, "Well that's a damn shame. What's wrong with him.. Not man enough?"

You let out a nervous laugh, taking a step back as he took a big step forward, towering over you as he gazed down at you, focused solely on your face and your changing facial expressions. He seemed very fixated on watching how you reacted to every word that left his overly wet lips. You had just noticed that here seemed to be stray patches of that same white paint that was on his shirt on his face

His lips parted, and drool began to puddle within the crevice between his gums and bottom up until it overflowed, a string of it dangling loosely until it separated from his plump lip, dropping to the floor in front of your feet. You winced at the sight. The man didn't seem all the way there, if at all. He was creepy and clearly disgusting, and it was starting to show the longer you stood in this dilapidated kitchen with him.

"I guess so," you shrugged, your eyes fixated on the door behind him. "I think I'm just gonna be headed out now."

You tried to step around him but before you could, slender fingers caught you by the arm. He held you in place as he rolled his eyes to you, giving you that same, vacant stare under a heavy brow.

"Why don't you stay a while." It wasn't a question or a suggestion. He was telling you that he had no plans on letting you leave.

"Oh no," you squeaked. You could feel the slow rising burning his your chest as a slow moving wave of panic began to set in. "Please, just let me leave now, mister."

He chuckled, his lips upturning into a pointed smile. "Shy little thing, aren't ya? No need for that now, darlin'."

"I need to go," your voice was strained, trying to remain calm as you gently tried to pull yourself away from him.

He jerked you closer to him, staring down at you with eyes that had very obviously shifted from blue to golden right before you. "Why don't you let ol' Bob take care you, babydoll?"

"What?" You gulped, trying to swallow down that lump of fear that was stuck in your throat.

"Oh, c'mon now, I don't think it a coincidence you ended up by my doorstep.. You little whores always find a way to me," he crooned in a revolting tone, another glob of saliva dripping from his lips. "Just close your eyes."

"Fuck you," you snapped at him, trying to jerk your arm away.

But it was a failed attempt, and he overpowered you without so much as breaking a sweat as he grabbed ahold of your throat with the other hand, squeezing around your windpipe until you gasped for air. He shoved you back against the old, wooden kitchen table as he gave you a violent shake, lowering his head to yours. His hot breathe was blowing in your face as he took a breathe in, smelling you.

And why the fuck did this send a jolt of arousal through you?

He chuckled, giving you a big, wicked grin as he held onto you tightly. His fingers were still digging into your throat, pressing in so tightly you began to feel light-headed. "Oh, yes. Yes, you certainly will, like a good little fucktoy.. I can smell you.. you think I can't already feel that your cunt is dripping and desperate to be filled.. Filled by me."

"Get off me," you tried to push him away from you, panicked and coughing for air. "You fucking freak."

"Oho, now that's rude, princess." An audible growl escaped Bob's throat as he shook you again, making your neck pop as he slammed you against the kitchen table. A cry escaped you as you felt our lower back hit the side of the table, a jolt of pain shooting up your spine. "Shut your fucking mouth, stupid little girl."

He stared down at you, wrapping both hands around your throat now as he watched, smiling with a sick glee as you began to turn red from the pressure he exuded on your neck. He lowered his head, pressing his wet lips against yours as he slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, sliding it down your throat.

What was wrong with his tongue? Why the fuck was it that long -- What was this guy? And why the fuck were you beginning to get wet with each increasingly perverted thing he did to you?

You moved against him, a muffled scream escaping you as you tried to push him off of you again to no avail. He began to get a little more than annoyed with you as he pulled himself away from you, grunting something under his breath that you couldn't make out, with his heavy brow creasing as he pressed you back onto the table again, forcing your legs to spread to let him step between them as a sharp slap from him seared the skin across your face.

This is the shit that shouldn't be getting you turned on.

"Please, don't hurt me," you begged, your breathing was beginning to get get shallow and ragged as you tried to force yourself to remain calm.

He watched you as you sat there, fearful and completely at his mercy as you begged and pleaded with him. None of your words held any weight with him, though, and he was getting such a sickening satisfaction to know what he was doing to you. He pressed himself in between your legs, and you could feel his cock was hard and straining against the old slacks that he wore as he rolled his hips into you once, grinding against your clothed slit.

"Mmm, daddy ain't gonna hurt ya.. Not too badly anyway, not as long as you be a good slut for me," he cooed in a deep, throaty tone.

He pressed his large hands against your breasts, humming and grunting like some feral beast as he squeezed them together until it hurt. You yelped, frozen in place, and you didn't dare move a muscle. You didn't know if it was purely out of fear or your curiosity for wanting to know just what else this terrible man was going to do to you. He pressed his erection into your cunt again, keeping a slow pace as he dry humped you.

He ripped into your dress with ease as he slipped it off of your shoulders, letting the flimsy material pool at your sides on the table as his attention went back to your exposed breasts. The drool dripped consistently from his lips now, most of it landing right on your bare thighs. He slapped your breasts with his hand, seeming intent on not letting any part of it feel good as he hunched over, pressing his mouth to your heated skin, sucking and biting into one of your nipples.

You whimpered at the pain, the tears beginning to well up in your eyes as you sniffled, a few stray drops staining your cheeks as you opened yourself up for him, hoping he take the attention away from your breasts.

Suddenly you were wondering what his tongue would feel like inside of you.

He rolled his eyes up to get a look of your face. "Oh, little girl, seeing you cry only makes my cock harder," he said lowly, almost a moan. It was more than clear that he was truly enjoying himself.

God, he was nothing but a fucking bastard.

"No, no, no..," was all you could say as your voice trailed off, your mind in a daze as you stared into his golden eyes.

He reached his hand between the two of you, pressing two of his slender fingers on your wet, clothed pussy. He hummed again, definitely not overlooking just how wet you were. He pressed into you, slipping by the delicate underwear as he pushed a finger into your entrance before pulling it back out. He brought the hand up to his face, sniffing at his fingers before lapping all them in a vulgar display with his tongue.

"You say no.. But this dripping cunt of yours says otherwise.. What's the matter... ashamed? Embarrased that you're a filthy bitch in heat that wants ol' Bob to fill your tight, soaking cunt? Ain't that right?"

"Fuck you," you growled again, narrowing your eyes at him, knowing that he was right.

As fucked up and sadistic as it was, it was turning you on beyond belief, and you just wanted this filthy fucking pervert to fuck you ragged on this goddamn kitchen table, to make you his fucktoy and degrade you in ways you wouldn't speak about again after it was over.

"Disrespectful little cunt," he growled.

Suddenly, without warning, he spit in your face, leaving you stunned as you looked up at him, the tears mixing in with his saliva on your cheek as he reached up, spreading it over your face with his hand, further degrading you as much as he possibly could. He shoved his dirty fingers into your mouth, pushing them down into your throat, making you gag. He tasted like cheap whiskey, popcorn and tobacco.

"Don't bite my fingers now.. Wouldn't want to have to rip some of your teeth out, would I, pretty thing?" He gave your face another hard slap.

You pulled your head back, grunting and narrowing your eyes at him. You pressed your hands into his nasty shirt, but instead of trying to push him away, you latched onto his shirt, refusing to let go of him.

"Mmhmm, don't really wanna leave ol' Bob, do ya? Wanna stay and be an obedient lil' fuck doll for me, don't ya? Must really be a little slut to let a filthy old man use you up like this," he chuckled, grabbing your face again, pressing his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks.

The drool from his mouth was still running out in string after string. It had all but coated your naked thighs at this point. All of it felt so wrong, and as much as you tried to hold yourself back, you couldn't help but obey his every command, like a dog waiting for a treat.

You stared up at him for a moment, the two of you seemingly in a standoff as you blinked at him. You gave him two, slow nods of your head as he was looking at you as if he was actually expecting an answer from you. He pulled his hands away from you face, reaching down to grasp at your panties, ripping them clean off of your body. He brought them back up to his face, pressing them against his nose as he inhaled deeply, giving you the same sinister smile.

"I'd gag that little mouth of yours with these, but I think I'd rather hear your screams," he laughed, narrowing his eyes again as he pocketed the garment.

The fear and arousal was still coursing through you, it was stronger than ever at this point, and this man seemed to be able to sense it. He seemed to be playing on both of the emotions to excite any kind of reaction from you, because to him, they were one in the same, and either way, he loved it, that was obvious.

He pressed himself back against your bare cunt this time, one of his hands darting back down between your legs to press against your swollen clit, forcing a moan out of you while the other hand grabbed your throat again, giving it a hard squeeze.

"Look at you, all wet and needy..," he purred, grabbing you by the hair as he pulled you off the table.

He didn't bother to help you as you stumbled to your knees, but it's clear that's exactly how he wanted you as he reached up to unzip his pants, his other hand still firmly grasping your hair. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes again as he pulled his hard, waiting cock out of his pants. It was like his tongue, it was abnormal and didn't seem entirely human.

"Be a good girl for me and suck my cock now..," he ordered, yanking you forward, pressing the tip of the pre-cum leaking, swollen head against your lips. "No teeth, bitch. Remember what I said about ripping them out."

Again, it wasn't a question, he pressed his cock into your lips, prying them apart as he slipped himself in, giving a thrust of his hips, gliding his way back into your throat, making you gag at the sudden intrusion.

Your salivary glands worked overtime as saliva accumulation in your mouth, seeping out the sides of your lips around his massive cock while he grabbed the back of your head with both hands, giving his hips a roll as he started fucking your throat. He let out a wicked laugh each time he made you gag. This was disgusting, he was disgusting, and you felt so sick to your stomach, but so turned on for this evil man.

Your cunt began to ache with such a ferocity that you felt like you needed something filling you now, like you couldn't wait a second longer for whatever he wanted to do to you. You reached down, running your fingers between your folds until you found that sensitive bundle of nerves that had was now swollen and hard beneath your fingers. You rubbed circles around it, bucking your own hands against your hips as you moved your head along with Bob's thrusts, moaning softly as you took his inhuman cock in as far as it would go down your throat.

"I didn't say you could play with that filthy little cunt of yours, now did I?" You heard Bob's gravelly voice sound from above you.

You only rolled your eyes up to him to see a sneer on his face. He yanked your hair roughly, giving the side of your face another smack as he bucked his hips violently. His cock sank deeper into your throat, making you cough and gag again as he fucked your throat relentlessly.

Your nails dug into the dusty wooden floor beneath. Your cunt and mouth both dripping now as he did exactly what he wanted to do to you. The saliva was pouring out of your mouth in long strings, running down your body as you tried to do your best to time your breathing with his strokes. Your face was growing red and even more heated. The sweat beaded up on your brow as your body begged for oxygen. Bob only watched on in pleasure as were you damn near close to passing out as he continued fucking your throat with wreckless intent, not giving a shit of you could breathe or not. Truthfully, if you had passed out, you were positive it wouldn't stop him.

When he finally got bored with it, he jerked you back by your hair, pulling his cock free from your mouth, pushing you back down to the floor, making you land on your ass. You laid back on the floor, coughing and gasping, trying to catch your breath. All of the air coming back into your body all at once left you feeling dazed.

You laid there, half suffocated, with a sheen of sweat and saliva coating your body. Bob looked on at you silently for a moment, admiring his handy-work.

"Such a greedy whore, trying to play with your cunt without my permission," he said, his heavy brow locked in a scowl.

He reached down to pull you up by your arms, spinning you on your heel before he pushed you forward into the table so hard that it scraped against the floor as it was pushed forward. He pushed your head down into the wood, making you bend over for him as he pressed his body into yours. You could feel his cock pressing right into your entrance. He grabbed you by the hair again, pulling it taut against your skull, giving your ass a hard slap. The stinging sensation made you cry out as you pushed your hips backward, grinding against his throbbing cock.

"Such a whore," he noted, watching you writhe against his length. "Think I should punish you, hmm? What should I do.. Spank you?" He gave yet another, even harder slap to your ass, digging his nails into the skin. "Or, maybe...," he trailed of with an mischievous giggle as he brought his thumb up to his lips, letting the drool dripple out onto it as he reached down, pushing his thumb past your cheeks to press it hard into your asshole. "Maybe I should fuck this tight little ass of yours, huh? Make you scream bloody goddamn murder while I stretch all of your holes out with my cock."

You grunted, moving your body forward to get his hand away from you, but he held it firmly in place. You shook your head at him, as much as you could with him holding your head down anyway.

"No.. P-please," you stuttered as your body began to shake with fear and excitement.

"Mmm, that scare you, pretty thing?" He huffed, pulling his hand away from your ass. "Maybe next time.. Besides, you smell so good, I want to get a taste of you first."

Next time?

He finally released your hair, letting you move your head around freely as he bent down on one knee. He grasped your ass with both hands, spreading you apart, exposing all of you to him as he spit directly on your cunt. He used one of his hands to gather the saliva on his fingers, spreading it all around your sensitive clit, lips, and up to your asshole again.

It was all wrong, so fucking wrong.

He pressed his face into your pussy, letting his tongue delve inside of your core as he flicked it around, tasting every bit of you as his bottom lip rubbed against your sensitive clit. You moaned, digging your nails into the table this time as you purposely widened your stance for him, giving your hips the smallest grind as you leaned back into the grip he had on your ass.

He pulled you back into his hold, forcing his tongue as far inside you as it would go. You could feel the drool and your own secretions running down the inside of your thighs while he made a mess of you. The sound of his mouth slurping and sucking at your pussy was gross, and you should have found it gross, because you were letting some perverted stranger have his way with you, but you were too far gone in your pleasure to even have the slightest semblance of giving a fuck anymore.

He finally pulled his tongue out of your core, running his tongue along the outside lips as he then shoved his fingers inside of you. They moved and stretched your pussy for him as he curled those long fingers to press into your g-spot, with his tongue trailing upwards until it reached your asshole. He pressed his tongue into that sensitive, tight ring of muscle, massaging with his tongue as he pumped his fingers in and out of you roughly. It left you feeling more than just a little exposed.

You whined, dragging your nails even further into the table as you placed your head down out of sheer embarrassment. No one had ever treated you like this, or done these kinds of things to you before, and having this old bastard do it to you now was making you feel things you never felt before.

It was almost like an awakening.

You wanted him to treat you like a whore, and to keep doing these nasty things to you.

"Still a shy thing, aren't ya?" Bob sighed, clearly sensing your bashfulness.

Before you could get too into what he was doing, he ripped both his hand and tongue away from you, snaking his skinny body back up yours. He grabbed your hair again, yanking you back by it, forcing you to bend your head back for him as he shoved his wet fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself on him.

"That's right, slut, taste yourself," he croaked, his thumb curling down to press into the bottom of your jaw.

You could feel his cock pressing itself against your entrance again, and you shifted your stance onto your toes, raising yourself up to grind against it. All you wanted him to do now was to fuck you into this table like the whore that he said you were. You wanted him to humiliate you and hurl those nasty obscenities at you.

"Mmm, maybe not so shy after all, little girl," he groaned, pulling you up by the hair so your back was pressed into his chest. "Is this what you want, hmm? You like being a nasty little cumslut for me, don't ya?"

"Yes.. Yes, I do," you finally admitted, groaning softly as he pressed his cock into you again.

"That's what I thought.. Knew you'd stop fighting me soon enough, the good little whores always do for daddy," he praised, pressing his face into your hair, inhaling deeply.

He bucked his hips against you again, reaching down with his free hand to line his cock with your entrance before plunging his hips forward, burying his length inside your pussy all at once. You cried out, startled by the sudden uncomfortable pressure of his cock stretching you open. He rocked his hips against you, wasting none of his time in getting you adjusted. You getting pleasure out of this was your own luck. He was here to satisfy himself, and that had been obvious from the beginning.

"Good girl," he grunted gruffly, shoving your head back down to the table. "So tight.. so wet. Don't think I'm gonna want to let you go, even after I fill you up with my cum, and leave you in a pathetic mess."

Your body was shaking and weak as he rammed his cock into you, bottoming out with each thrust as he hit your cervix violently. It hurt, but it also felt so fucking good to have him fill you like you've never been before. You were atleast glad you had a table to lay across once your legs felt like they were giving out.

Bob pounded into you, the only sounds in the room were your moaning cries and his ferocious grunts and growls as a slew of obscenities left his lips, the sound of his skin slapping against yours was a melody of the most primal kind.

The tears were streaming down your cheeks once more as you felt that familiar, tight knot in your stomach ready to snap at a moment's notice, but it too was a different kind than you've ever felt. You could already tell that this was going to be intense, and it was somewhat concerning for you. You were coming to the end, you you knew without a doubt that there wasn't much more you could take.

This man had indeed used you up.

Your breathing became very labored, and your moans were nothing more now than choked out whimpers as you laid there, waiting for that coil in your stomach to break.

"You gonna cum for me, pet? This what you like? Being treated like cocksleeve." He growled, thrusting his hips against yours in rapid succession as he reached out to wrap his hands around your throat again, purposely choking you. "You gonna cum on an old man's cock like the worthless cunt you are?

"Ye- yes.. Yes.. I'm going to cum," you choked out, your throat was already raw and burning from his earlier actions.

"Then fucking do it, babydoll. Now, before I change my mind and pull my cock out to cum on that pretty face of yours," he spat at you, slapping your ass again as he pressed you into the table.

Your orgasm crashing down onto you like a tone of bricks. Your whole body tensed up, leaving you rigid as you screamed, with your belly heaving and your vision going black for a moment as you came hard. Your walls contracted so tightly around his cock that you could feel him throbbing inside of you, drenching his cock as a gush of your release soaked his cock and slacks as it flowed down your legs.

"Oho, look at you, nasty girl," he growled, still slamming his hips into you. "You're making such a mess of yourself.. Now I'm gonna fill you up."

He grunted, pulling you up to his chest, shoving his fingers down into your mouth again as he pounded you, his rhythm and pace becoming completely erratic as he growled into your ear, wheezing, with saliva dribbling onto your neck. His other hand reached up to squeeze and press into your breasts, alternative between the two of them as he pinched one of your nipples. The jerking of his hips finally faltered as he pushed you back down to the table, a loud, feral grunt escaping him as you felt him release his seed deep into your aching cunt.

He took a moment to collect himself before pulling out of you. His cum was seeping out of you now, and you were a wet, disgusting mess, with your whole body being coated with a mixture of body fluids from the two of you.

Bob grabbed you by the hair again, lifting you up only to push you back down to the ground again. You had no chance of breaking your fall even if you tried. You were completely exhausted and mentally drained at this point.

"No, I don't think I will let you go," he cooed, leering down at you, admiring the mess that he had made out of you.

He wasn't gonna let you go, and truth be told, you weren't sure you even wanted to leave. You looked up at him wantonly, blinking a few times. All you wanted to do was please him, you wanted his praise.

"Now, why don't you sit there for a while and think about how what you've done," he gave you that same eerie smile.

"Really?" Your lip curled up in disgust.

"Yes, unless you want another punishment. Be a good little girl for me, and I might let you clean yourself off.. Be bad, and I guess I'll just have to tie you up somewhere." he narrowed his eyes at you.

You sighed, giving him a nod that you understood as you leaned back onto the ground, too tired to even stand up or even really worry about what he was gonna do next.

He hummed at you, "Go ahead.. Rest up, pretty thing. You're gonna need it."

Soon enough, he had disappeared from the room, but he'd be back, and that was the only thing you were sure of.

#pennywise #bob gray #bob gray x reader #peenywise x reader #pennywise imagine #pennywise fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard smut

777 notes · View notes

stoopsbookstore · 5 years

Text

The Wolf (Chapter 1)

Warnings - Chapter features violence, gore and character deaths

“Yuta! Wake up!” Johnny smacked the younger wolf awake, the forest ablaze around them, “we have to go!”

“What’s happening, what’s going in?” Yuta stood up, his legs wobbly underneath him.

“Some guy set the forest on fire, says he’s looking for you,” Taeyong transformed, running for his life after sharing the information with Yuta.

“We need to get out of here, it’s not safe!” As a wolf, Doyoung gathered the younger pack, leading them away from the inferno.

Yuta saw his packmates run in various direction, Kun and Xiaojun darting to pick up Taeil who had been burnt on his hind legs, Haechan staying with Ten as they attempted to grab their heirlooms, chaos and madness all around them.

“Hello there, bastard child,” a black wolf with a white streak on his back bared his teeth at Yuta, trying to transform, but for some reason could only sprout his ears, “long time, no see.”

Yuta started running, seeing his friends and family getting slaughtered, wolves attacking them relentlessly.

“Yuta! Help me!” Jisung reached for the male, only for the lead wolf to come up and stomp on his neck.

“You’ll never be a member, you stupid fuck!” The wolf started making his way to Yuta, bracing himself against a tree, “you’ll always be alone!”

Yuta woke up in the classroom screaming, the entire class turning around to stare at him. His forehead was covered in sweat and his eyes red for tears he didn’t realize he shed.

“Im sorry, Mr. Nakamoto, does Romeo and Juliet scare you that much?” Mr. Shindong asked, the chalkboard full of notes of the play and his notebook full of nothing but drool.

“Sorry, sir,” Yuta murmured out, his eyes a dull red, calming himself down as everyone went back to not paying attention except one girl, a sympathetic look on her face.

“Because of that interruption, I think it would be to dismiss class early,” The professor glared at Yuta, “and maybe some of you should focus on getting more sleep instead of getting more pussy.”

The class cheered, gathering their stuff together, Yuta staying back as his friends, Johnny and Doyoung, came up to him.

“Dude, what was that all about?” Doyoung felt Yuta’s forehead with the back of his hand, “are you sick?”

Johnny swatted his hand away from the panicking boy, knowing exactly what’s wrong, “what did you see?”

“A vision of my mom’s pack leader, he burnt everything down,” Yuta shivering as they walked out of the classroom, a pair of eyes on them, "I couldn't save Jisung, I couldn't save anyone."

“Should we tell Taeyong?”

"Tell him what? Yuta had a dream where we all were slaughtered," Doyoung stared at the tallest male, "he would lock us up and throw away the key."

"Well, what do you expect we do?" Johnny swatted at Doyoung, accidentally whacking into Y/N, their classmate, "oh shit! Sorry!"

"No, it's okay," Y/N rubbed her head, Yuta reaching out his hand, "thank you."

The second their hands touched, a jolt of electricity racing through their bodies. Yuta froze, his face stuck in terrror. Y/N took her hand back, staring at the trio in horror.

"You won't being able to save her, fool," a disembodied voice taunted Yuta, looking around to see his friends had vanish and Y/N was strung up, dangling by her legs over a pit of fire, "just because she's your meant to be doesn't mean you'll be with her. You're going to ruin everything for her."

The chain around Y/N's legs disappearing, dropping her as Yuta screamed.

His scream brought him back to the real world, his friends covering his mouth, Johnny helping Y/N up, rubbing her hand.

"Did you feel that, too?" Y/N questioned Yuta, his forehead sweating and his eyes still bulging out.

Y/N ripped a corner of a piece of a paper, scribbling her number on it with a dying pen, the ink fading.

"Call me later please."

Y/N made her exit, Yuta pocketing the number while Johnny pulled out his own phone to call Taeyong.

"Joh-"

"No, Doyoung, he needs to know," Johnny nudged his friend away, "Taeyong, skip your next class, Biology can wait. I'm sure Professor Heechul wouldn't care about you missing one class. It's about Yu- yes. He had a nightma- yes. We think we found his m- Y/N, that girl from our English class. We're on our wa- she just left, but she gave us her name."

Johnny started walking, leaving Doyoung and Yuta in the hall, waving at them to follow him, the trio hustling through the hallways, looking for another one of their members.

Upon arriving at the computer lab, they saw their youngest, Jisung. Johnny walked up and handed the phone to the member affectionately called "their baby," his face terrified as Taeyong began panicking on the phone.

"I have cla- What do you mean Yuta had a nig- and his ma- I'll pack up my stuff," Jisung took out his flashdrive, shoving everything in his bag before the four boys ran out of the classroom, the youngest boy giving the phone back to Johnny.

"We're on our way, we have Jisung. Talk to you later."

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

"Mom, have you ever touche-"

"Honey, I already gave you the talk."

"Not like that," Y/N groaned, "I mean, I bumped into this three guys and when one of them was helping me up, I got a shock and then I saw a vision."

Leann stood in silence, her eyes looking at the pot of spaghetti sauce, avoiding the topic, "How about you try some of this?"

"Mom."

"Honey, we can't tell you right now, I'm sorry," she threw the spoon in the sink, "I wish I could and now that we know you're carrying on the family legacy, we have to do this in a very careful way. But what I can tell you in that I come from a very long line of werewolf hunters."

"Hunters?"

"Yes. And I married your stepfather for an alliance that would help us grow in numbers and wipe out the wolves," Y/N looked to the counter, tracing random etchings in the marble as her mother continued, "while I love Shindong, this is mainly for your protection. There's a lot you're going to find out in the next few weeks and we want you to be ready."

"We knew this day was going to come," Shindong had entered the room, kissing the top of Leann's head, "we can start training this weekend. Let me grade all of these works and I can introduce you to what's about to happen. The first paper is one of those half-breeds, Yuta."

Y/N jumped at the name, unnoticed by her parents, "I should go to bed, get well rested for the big day, I guess."

She ran to her room like a speeding bullet train, her heart pounding, as she slid down the door.

Werewolves are real? Any sort of legends surrounding the town could've been real.

Y/N got up from the floor, falling onto her bed before replaying the vision from earlier.

"Help! Someone please!" Y/N tried to wiggling out of the chains, the flames making her sweat waterfalls.

She noticed a wolf, gray fur with bright green eyes growling at a huge black blur, spewing gibberish out of his mouth. The wolf growled as the blur slashed at him. The canine fell to the floor before changing into Yuta, a classmate of Y/N's. The blood ran from his body, the blur laughing at Y/N, her chains dropping her into the inferno.

"Fuck!" Y/N woke up, her body sweaty from the nightmare, her room dark, the moon the only light shining through the window.

A patch of fur had been left near Y/N's pillow. She picked it up, turning on her light to examine it.

It was gray, the same color as Yuta's in her dream.

#yuta #nct scenarios #nct au #nakamoto yuta #nct imagines #nct smut #the wolf #halloween series #my writings

50 notes · View notes

r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 88) "Bad Kids"

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@lovemythsworld

@crystalbaby12

"FUCK!! What day is it?" Luna asks as she lifts her face after railing another line of 30's.

"Thursday..?" Colson answers her, confused.

"Time?" She asks to his 542P. "Motherfucker..." Luna mutters.

Colson asks What's Up as she lights a joint. Luna missed her therapy session scheduled at 5P, she explains with a sigh.

Taking a moment to call Kylie. Luna assures her, she simply forgot and isn't MIA. She watches Colson snort a long line of Adderall while she's on the phone, puffing on the joint.

Once she's ended the call, she passes it to him as they get dressed. Both in all black. Colson in a black T, black jeans and his Vans. Luna in an oversized, long sleeve black T. Large enough to wear as a dress. Under, she has on sheer black stockings and tight, black spandex shorts. Her Docs, jewelry and a purple lip finishing off her look.

"You're gonna skate in that?" Colson questions her attire.

"Watch me." She replies with a smirk.

"Oh, I fucking will." He grins.

Throwing her school bag of goodies on his back. Colson grabs Luna's ass and their jackets as they head out of their suite.

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

The bar at The Ambassador is empty.

Until The Ten of Them pile inside. Loud and rowdy as usual. Taking up the entire wooden row of the bar.

They order drinks as they wait for their table at the Reserve Lounge inside the hotel. An Old Fashioned for Luna and a Heineken for Colson.

Grinning, he whispers into her ear. "You still taste better."

Luna shakes her head with a light laugh. Cheeks turning pink.

"I WANT a ribeye with fried onions and mushrooms. And a fucking baked potato. I don't give a FUCK about anything else." Sam states.

She's sitting to Luna's left, while Colson's on her right. Baze, who's next to Sam, leans up on the bar to look down at Luna.

"Bro. I think your girl's my twin." He laughs. Looking at Sam, then at Luna, finally back at Sam. "We gonna fuck up some beef TONIGHT!! He laughs again as he lifts his drink to Sam's agreement.

"Who we fucking up?" Slim hollers from the other end of the bar.

"BEEF!!!" Sam and Baze shout in unison.

Erupting them both into laughter along with Colson and Luna.

Luna gives her friend a Lil Look. Sam can get along with everyone. Same as she can hold her own against anyone. Being taken advantage by no one. Sam's never been about that Relationship Life. Knowing her friend too well, Luna can read her better then her favorite book. There's a LoveBuzz happening at the bar. Luna reading the signs before Sam can even write them herself.

Luna glances over at Colson. He catches the glimmer in her eye. They both cheese at the idea of their friends together. With no words said. Just One Look.

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

Once sat, they continue to converse loudly. The Ten of Them having no volume control. With more drinks and appetizers ordered, they're even louder. And so out of place.

Their server asking his Front of the House manager to watch them. Unaware of who they are and sure of the likelihood that they're gonna Dine N Dash. Feeling dumb upon his boss's explanation.

"I don't know how to skate..." Ashleigh complains after they order.

She's one of three. Benny, nor Bullet grind either. AJ being an undercover SkaterBoy to Luna's unknown intrigue.

"There's one of those Rent-A-Bike stations in front." Rook chimes in.

"You want MY ass on a BIKE!??" Benny asks in disbelief.

"Weeble Wobbles Weeble but they don't fall down!" Luna grins at her friend from across their dinner table.

Benny laughs. He adores Luna, he has since that night at the strip club. He fears her too. Being from NYC also, he knows what she's connected to.... And fully aware of what she's capable of on her own.

"Ya gonna catch me Brooklyn, if I weeble too far?" Benny teases.

"Fucken' right, Benz." Luna grins at him, arms open wide.

Somehow, he knows that although he's the bodyguard and Luna's tiny as fuck. THAT Brooklyn Bitch would have him should ANYTHING erupt. It's who she is.

"We riden!!!" Benny shouts to Bullet's complete bemusement.

Bullet doesn't know Luna. He thinks he likes her but he's not sure, not having any experience to trust her. Irritated with Benny, he eats his steak and sips his wine.

The Other Nine of Them are as happy as fat clams. Engaged, boisterous and fully enjoying each other. Filling their bellies with food before The Magic.

Bullet doesn't know yet.... But he will.

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

After a paid for dinner and proper tip, they head to The Bus.

Climbing on, all of them bursting with delicious goodness. Passing eight joints between The Ten of Them, they settle their bellies easily. All full. All sighing.

Sam pops up first. That Bitch wants them slushies.

Scooping the WHOLE jar, all Ten of Them wind up with full solo cups of Magic. Like fucking water ice. Sam handing out a plastic spoon with each of their solo cup treats.

"I shouldn't eat this...." Bullet confides in Benny.

"You won't survive this night if you don't." Benny reassures him as he takes a bite of sweet, delicious Magic Slushies.

Poor Bullet. He thinks he knows... But he has no idea.

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

Splitting from The Bus, they head over to the Light District on boards and bikes. Obliging Ashleigh's one request.

"It's FUCKING closed!!???!!!" She shouts in frustration.

Kansas City's Light District closes at 5P. What THE fuck kinda shit is that?? Seriously... Why?

Ashleigh's really upset. All agreeing with her that It's Bullshit.

Luna asking her if she'd like Her to Burn it Down.

Ashleigh answers with a laughing and adoring NO. The Magic of Wild Mushrooms creeping around her brain. She appreciates Luna's brass love for her, but Ashleigh isn't violent. Never has been.

"Let's find somewhere else." She coaxes her defender as she climbs back on her rented bike.

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

Rolling through Kansas City, they're tripping their BALLS and PUSSIES off. Colors are streaking. Bodies are loose. The school bag packed with water instead of alcohol. Luna handing off bottles to everyone's gratitude.l

Lighting a joint as they roll through Kansas City. Luna passes it to Sam. Colson has his own lit. Passing it to Slim.

Firing another, Luna slows her pace. Riding beside Bullet, she grins. Hitting it multiple times before she speaks...

"I'm not THAT bad. I promise." A wink and grin following her words as she passes him the joint before pushing off to fly past him.

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

"Fuck you ain't...." Bullet thinks as she passes him. Amused by the tiny blonde girl and her wild punch.

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

They skate and bike around Kansas City. Watching the lights as they laugh. Passing joints and water amongst themselves as they eat their Magic Slushies.

Sliding up on a corner, Colson stops.

"Where the fuck are we?" He asks confused.

"In the Dark Pits of Hell, where we belong!!" Luna laughs, snapping his picture in the moment.

"He's so fucking beautiful." She thinks, not being able to stop her grandfather from lingering in her soul.

"C'mon Lovey!!" She shouts as they boot, scoot and boogie.

Ashleigh can't hold her shit together. Tripping balls, she doesn't know how to make the bike work anymore.

"Can we sit?" She pleads.

Always one to spot a park, Luna's on it.

"Come on, Buddy." She says, grabbing the back of Ashleigh's seat along with a handle bars.

Pushing Ashleigh along with ALL of Luna's force. There's a park ahead. The Holy Grail of her ENTIRE existence.

"We're almost there, Boo!" Luna's wide smile encourages Ashleigh's tired legs.

Hitting the park, Ashleigh drops her bike like a rock.

"Uggghhhh....." She exhales.

Luna grabs her board and Ashleigh's hand as the others arrive. She's undoubtedly Their Leader.

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

After swinging and climbing and running around the playground, they tire like little kids. Finding the perfect spot, Luna slips her bag off Colson's shoulders. Pulling out sheets as she displays them in front of their view.

All Ten of Them admire the glowing sight of Kansas City. Some standing in amazement, others sitting on the sheets in awe.

They're tripping their souls out as they stare into the sky line. Colors crossing and dancing. Bodies tingling as their third eyes see everything.

Laying and talking. The Ten of Them are curled upon the sheets, melting their faces off.

Pulling out her bag of tricks, Luna hands Colson four tennis balls to his delight. Face shining, he hops up to juggle them.

Next, she produces crayons and coloring books. Laying them out, they're grabbed by Ashleigh and Rook.

Slim finds the Nerf football. Sam jumping up for a solid toss.

Baze is stuck on the ground. Luna lighting a joint. Hitting it hard, she hands it to him.

"Fucken' Loons, Maaan..." Is all he can say in accepting pleasure.

AJ is lost in the stars on the sheets also. Magic Slushies winning. Luna handing him his own joint to his delight.

Benny is running around with Sam and Slim. Bullet still as a statue.

"Did you not drink the Kool-Aid...." Luna asks.

She had noticed his solid demeanour. Tall, strong. Relentless.

Arms crossed, he admits he had a scoop or two.

"Only a SCOOP!! BRO!!" Luna looks at him with disappointment. "We're not so crazy that you can't enjoy yourself, Sugar." Luna tries to reassure him. "I can't believe you didn't eat your slush." Luna looks at him, irritated. "What a fucking waste."

"I knooooww." Bullet sheepishly admits.

"Well, lucky YOU, Motherfucker!!" Luna grins.

She always has a secret stash. Pulling out a small container of pure mushrooms, she insists he eats them with her. NOW.

Luna's a rock when it comes to negotiating. Bullet sharing and eating the full half ounce she has stashed.

She grins as they chew. Her bright smile welcoming him into Her World.

There's a LOT going on in their group. Rook and Ashleigh are happily coloring. Slim, Sam, Benny and AJ toss the Nerf ball. Baze is still SO lost in the sky on his back.

Luna grabs Colson, dragging Baze and Bullet with them. It's football time, she calls to Benny.

"Hut!! Hut!!" Luna shouts to their colorful minds.

Their game is a ShitShow. It's hilarious to watch them toss, tumble and roll amongst themselves. None can see correctly and all of them have noodle legs.

Somehow, Luna can throw and avoid getting caught. Easily scoring a 14 to 0.

"Mothafucka, WHAT?... Mothafucka WHO??? Luna laughs.

She's never been a gracious winner. Laughing too hard.

She's caught by a "Fuuuck yooou?!!"

Along with a loving, grinning, full on body hit from Sam. They roll in the grass, wrestling and laughing. Each calling Uncle when they find themselves locked on their sides.

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

Laying in the night's sky, life comes into view. Playing Cold War Kids on one of their phones. Music drifts softly.

All Ten sprawled on sheets, they catch the beauty of Kansas City. Laying together in harmony.

Until Colson wants to take Luna away.

"Come're..." He begs

"Hmmmm..." She rolls her head up towards him.

Eyes dancing as she absorbs is face. Their colorful ensemble watching the stars like 4th graders at the Planetarium for the first time.

Colson grabs Luna's hand, pulling her out of the hype.

Yards away with only his phone, Colson holds Luna tight. She's the only one he's ever danced with outside of Casie and weird Middle School stuff. Tripping his face off, he's overwhelmed with feelings for Luna. His beloved.

In the darkness with just them two, Colson holds Luna close and firm. The lyrics to the original Swing Life Away swirl behind them. Causing Colson to hold Luna tighter then ever.

🎶Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words🎶

He sings softly, ducking his head into her ear.

She loves him. So fucking much. More then she could've ever imagined. Those blue eyes that see right into her soul. Those fingers that know every inch of her body. That heart that just fucking gets it.

Their love is fresh in her brain. Breaking her heart as her soul ignites. Believing him as sings to her that they Could Get By Just Fine on Minimum Wage.

Luna can't handle it and starts to cry. The drugs have her overwhelmed. Feelings flying everywhere. Heart dangling on her long sleeve.

"Please don't fucking die." She whimpers into Colson's chest.

He holds her as she gently sobs.

His mind is twisting too. Making him not sure of what to say. Then it pops.

"Cockroach." He states like he's answering the most important question of his life.

This stops Luna. Colson's words sliding inside her body, wrapping themself around her heart.

Feeling her sigh, he scoops her off the ground as if he's going to carry her over a threshold. With her arms draped around him, they stare into each other's trusting eyes. No words need to be said. They're the only two in the world right now. Luna strokes his cheek, as Colson leans in to kiss her.

There's a whole body explosion happening between the two of them once their lips touch. It's part drugs but mostly insatiable love.

Not even caring, in their own world, Colson slowly brings himself and Luna to the ground. Never breaking their kiss. He runs his hands though her hair, making her brain tingle.

Climbing on top of her, he holds himself up as her hands slowly trail his body. Their touch is almost orgasmic as he sucks on her neck and she slides her hands down his pants. Gripping his ass.

His free hand up her shirt dress. Sliding under her bra, playing with her nipple peircing. Pulling at her shorts.

"I need to be inside of you." Colson says in between kissing her neck and face.

"Mhhhmmm." Luna agrees.

He pulls down his pants as Luna slides out of the shorts. She doesn't understand her stockings though. Both too far gone to figure out how to get them off. Taking off her Docs not even an actual thought for either.

Colson reaches back into his pants. Pulling Luna towards him by the crotch of her tights, he stretches them out as he flicks his blade open.

Luna's heart immediately begins to race as he brings the knife towards her pussy. Slitting a hole through her tights, he rips them open. She bites her lip as she watches him.

Both of their bodies throbbing for the other. Mouths salivating as they look upon each other.

The world EXPLODES as Colson slowly slides into Luna. Both moaning out a pleased FUCK.

Colson takes his time. Gliding along Luna's clenched walls. Every inch and touch is overwhelming. If he goes to fast, he's convinced he may die.

Luna can't handle anything. Dying a thousand tiny deaths as she clings to him. Shifting into his rhythm. Kissing his mouth and face. She has to keep her eyes closed. Looking at him is too much. Fearing her heart will explode from his blue eyes.

They could've fucked for 5mins or 5hrs. They have no idea. Luna having multiple mental and physical orgasms before Colson allows himself to let loose.

Laying inside and on top of her, Colson feels at ease. There's no place in the world he'd rather be. This moment being one of his most content in life.

"I love you, Kitten." He breathes out.

"Mmmm... I love you." Luna mummers into his neck with her legs still holding him close.

"ARE YOU TWO FUCKING AGAIN!!??!" Sam shouts across the field.

Colson pulls his face out of Luna's hair to look at her. His face is still too beautiful for her.

"Jesus fucking Christ. She's like the kid sister I never had." Colson's wide eyes say in amazement.

Making Luna laugh, he pops out of her.

"An annoying kid sister." He says with a pout.

Shifting down, Colson lays on Luna's chest. Stroking his hair, they enjoy their bliss for a bit more before they rejoin the others.

"Yeah, we were Fucking. Kid Sister." Colson states as him and Luna climb back into the pile.

Who you talking too?" Ashleigh asks, confused.

"Ol sex police Sam over here." He tells her to the group's laughter.

"You're like fucking rabbits." Sam shoots back.

"That's why she calls me Bunny." Colson states matter of fact, making Luna roll on her side in a fit of giggles. It's funny because it's true.

All of their bodies riding private rollercoasters as their brains link back up. The Ten of Them talk about life, aliens, what they think God may be, if they'd like to live under the sea like Sponge Bob and all kinds of other weird shit. Figuring out the key to life. Love and friendship. Even Bullet enjoying himself.

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

Back at the Ambassador no one wants to separate. The Boys drag mattresses from the other rooms to Colson and Luna's suite. It's sleepover time again.

Collecting water for everyone, Luna dutifully passes out Xanax along with vitamins D and B6 to aid in their recovery.

Surrounded by pillows, blankets and love, they watch reruns Rugrats. Burning and laughing as they slowly come down.

Laying with Colson wrapped behind her, Luna feels so at peace. Her eyes are closed as he strokes her hair.

"I'm so fucking in love with you.... I can see it radiating off of us." Colson says with his eyes closed too.

Opening her eyes, Luna jumps off the mattress. Body flying across the room.

"IT'S NOT OUR LOVE!!! THE FUCKING TRASH CAN'S ON FIRE!!!" She shouts.

Grabbing it, she hauls ass into the bathroom. Tossing it into the tub before turning on the water.

Everyone is kinda numb, shocked or can't comprehend what just happened. Bullet taking notice that Luna's quick.

Climbing back into Colson, Luna asks What The Fuck Is Up With Them and Fire. He shakes his head, not knowing. Kissing the back of hers, he holds her firmly as they fall asleep together.

Benny turning to Bullet. Giving him a knowing eye, he warns that Tonight Was Easy.

He'll get it eventually.

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

To be continued....

23 notes · View notes