VVITCH'S VOGUE

Don't Fuck With A Witch ! ☽ Purgatorio ☾

[lonelyspadez]

✩ VVITCH'S MAGAZINE ! ✩

𝖶𝖾𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖳𝗈 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖴𝗆𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗇 𝖭𝖾𝗐𝗌 ! 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗏𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽. 𝖭𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖾, 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 ! 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 !

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

[lonelyspadez]

Have you seen Keanu's movie Siberia?

Very sorry for the late reply but I haven't ! I've heard many mixed reviews but I'm still open to watch it 🫡

[lonelyspadez]

More Duncan Vizla plz plzzzzz 🙏😔

Very sorry for the late reply ! I am busy with college life as of right now and have been hit with a lot of writer's block :( I really need to get my ass up to do these requests ngl 😅

[lonelyspadez]

⟣·⠀·⠀· 𝖫𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗉 .ᐟ

𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗅'𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾 ! 𝖮𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖬𝗋. 𝖫𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋… 𝗐𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇? 𝖧𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗒𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖾𝖽?

➤ 𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 | 𝖲𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝜗𝜚 𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅 | 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗉-𝖽𝖺𝖽!𝖪𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗑 𝗑 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗉-𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝜗𝜚

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 : 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉-𝖽𝖺𝖽

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

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✮ SIDE ATTRACTION ! ✮

➤ 𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 | 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝖨𝖭𝖤

...𝖡𝗅𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾 .ᐟ

𝖶𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝗋 . 𝖭𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝖭𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗆 . 𝖧𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖻𝖺𝗅 𝖫𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 . 𝖯𝖺𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖡𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗇 . 𝖬𝗂𝖼𝗁𝖺𝖾𝗅 𝖬𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌

...𝖱𝖾𝗇𝗍-𝖠-𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 .ᐟ

𝖱𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋𝗍 𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗁𝗅 . 𝖱𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝖠𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗋 . 𝖠𝗇𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝖲𝗄𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝖾𝗋

...𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗌 .ᐟ

𝖡𝖺𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖺 . 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗌 𝖣𝖾 𝖦𝗋𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

[lonelyspadez]

⟣·⠀·⠀· 𝖫𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖦𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗉 .ᐟ

𝖨𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝖬𝗋. 𝖶𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 ! 𝖠 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾. 𝖨𝖿 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗈𝖼𝗁 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗅𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗄𝗌 ;)

➤ 𝖬𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 | 𝖲𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

✞ 𝖧𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 | 𝖵𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗋𝖾!𝖶𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗑 𝖲𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋!𝖥!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ✞

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 : 𝖧𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗎𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽

｢ 𝖯𝖺𝗀𝖾 2 . 𝖯𝖺𝗀𝖾 3 . 𝖯𝖺𝗀𝖾 4 ｣

☦ 𝖡𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖨𝗌 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖶𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗋 | 𝖯𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾!𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝖶𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗑 𝖥!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ☦

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 : 𝖩𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖺𝗇𝗂'𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 | 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

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✩ Rules ! ✩

✧ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ✧

𝖱𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋: 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒

➤ 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝖨𝖭𝖤

TOPICS I WILL WRITE :

𝖣𝖣𝖫𝖦 (𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖠𝖦𝖤𝖯𝖫𝖠𝖸𝖨𝖭𝖦) 𝖭𝗈𝗇/𝖣𝗎𝖻-𝖢𝗈𝗇 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝖵𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖦𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖣𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 𝖯𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒/𝖡𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄

TOPICS I WILL NOT WRITE :

𝖵𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖼𝖺𝗍 𝖲𝗍𝖾𝗉𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖭𝖾𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 𝖥𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖴𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 𝖹𝗈𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺 𝖠𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖿𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌

✩ 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒. 𝖮𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗏𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗆𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖧𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝖾. 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝖾'𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗏𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾. ✩

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

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✮ INTRODUCTION ! ✮

➤ 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝖨𝖭𝖤

❥ 𝖧𝗂 ! 𝖬𝗒 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖱𝗈𝗌𝗐𝗒𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝖱𝗈𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍.

❥ 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 18+ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗌. 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗈𝗋 !

❥ 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄/𝗀𝗋𝖾𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗎𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾. 𝖬𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 !

❥ 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖾𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝖿𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌.

❥ 𝖨 𝖽𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 @vvitchmusic. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗂𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖯𝗎𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗈.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 ! 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒.

❥ 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 <3

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

[lonelyspadez]

✮ MAIN ATTRACTION ! ✮

➤ 𝖲𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖠𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 | 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖬𝖠𝖦𝖠𝖹𝖨𝖭𝖤

...𝖫𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖧𝗈𝗍𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌 .ᐟ

𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝖶𝗂𝖼𝗄 . 𝖪𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇 𝖫𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗑 . 𝖳𝗈𝗆 𝖫𝗎𝖽𝗅𝗈𝗐 . 𝖣𝗎𝗇𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖵𝗂𝗓𝗅𝖺

...𝖢𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾 & 𝖯𝗎𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 .ᐟ

𝖣𝗈𝗇 𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇 . 𝖣𝗈𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗌𝖽𝖺𝗅𝖾 . 𝖣𝖺𝗏𝗂𝖽 𝖠𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗇 𝖦𝗋𝗂𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗇

...𝖨𝗇 𝖭𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖲𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋 𝖣𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 ?

𝖣𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖺 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗄 . 𝖣𝗋. 𝖩𝗎𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗇 𝖬𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗋

...𝖥𝖺𝗏𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖡𝗈𝗒 𝖳𝗈𝗒𝗌 .ᐟ

𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾 "𝖳𝖾𝖽" 𝖫𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 . 𝖶𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗒 . 𝖳𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗌 "𝖭𝖾𝗈" 𝖠𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 . 𝖭𝖾𝗅𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖬𝗈𝗌𝗌

...𝖧𝗎𝗇𝗄𝗒 𝖳𝗈𝗐𝗇 .ᐟ

𝖲𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖾 𝖥𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈 . 𝖩𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖳𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇 . 𝖯𝖺𝗎𝗅 𝖲𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗈𝗇

...𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇'𝗌 𝖣𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 .ᐟ

𝖩𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾

𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗌 : 𝖵𝖵𝖨𝖳𝖢𝖧'𝖲 𝖵𝖮𝖦𝖴𝖤™

[lonelyspadez]

Are the request open?

I apologize but no !! 🖤

[donaka-screaming]

the hands palms down on the couch make me want to fucking s c r e a m why does this man sit like such a whooooooore 😫

[lonelyspadez]

𝐖𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝

Warnings: Dark!Duncan Vizla x F!reader, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, Death of a minor character, mentions of blood. (MDNI)

Summary: Make or Break. Your choice.

The snowy glaze appearing at the front, like yesterday, seemed eternal. Its touch caresses the mountains with layers that have been built up for months now. On some lonely nights, you could hear the howl of wolves residing in the forestry or a hoot of an owl during mating season. Either way, you missed being outside. There’s nothing in this world that you wouldn’t trade to spend outside alone, even for a second.

With a slight creak, you carefully made your way down to the office space where he’d kept the pictures of the animals. You used to be in the field of photography. Keyword: Used. It was the only hobby and job that you loved doing the most. On special occasions, you would send these photos back to your mother. She was the only person that supported your career and encouraged you to travel the world. Seek out the knowledge or secrets as they say. But you couldn’t have been more wrong in your life with that decision alone.

When you first arrived at the town of Triple Oak, most of its residents were welcoming and warm. The lady next door during your first stay invited you over at her house for a delicious slice of peach cobbler pie. Plus, you made new friends. The memory of huddling around a campfire while telling all kinds of myths and fables about the town’s origin made your heart ache. You missed them, all of them. But deep down, you knew you weren’t allowed to see them anymore. Not without his permission.

“(Y/N)!” Katie’s voice cried out your name desperately. Panic took its hold over you as you watched your other friends bound and blindfolded. All about to be slaughtered like lambs and fed to the hounds.

“Wait! Please, please, don’t do this.” You pleaded with Duncan, the binds biting against your skin.

His remorseless gaze looked over at the chamber of the gun before reloading it with a full mag. The sound of a click made it all the more worse for all of you as he pointed it towards her. The whimpers and sobs of your friends crescendoed to which amplified the chaos and helplessness of being held at gunpoint. You begged and screamed for him to stop, all the while, aimlessly struggling against your binds in hopes to save your friend. With a loud bang, the world around you stopped for a moment, everything was silent. A pool of thick, red liquid leaked from her head as she laid there motionlessly. Her lifeless eyes stared back at yours like a haunted doll. This was all your fault. You foolishly thought you could escape from him without any consequences. Now here you were, feeling the numbness taking over your mind like a thick fog. Each and every shot ringing in your ear seems distant now. Pushing you away from the current situation and taking you someplace far, far away.

You didn’t realize it had fallen so silent that the only sound in the place was the wind gently going past your small form. He firmly grasped your chin to tilt it upwards, meeting with his own. He could see through the broken veil that now had a hold over your mind and soul. Those narrowed gaze peered in to see the bleeding, beating heart residing at the gaping pit of her traumatized soul. With a gentle kiss on her forehead, he pulled away to cut off her binds and carry her back to the cabin.

“Why?” Your voice cracking slightly.

“Because you are mine.” Not once looking down at your pitiful form in his hold.

You held the blanket around you loosely as you roved over the pictures of wild animals. Each one captured by the lens last week through an open window. The only time you could ever get quality-captured ones is if you were at the balcony or at the front porch. Unbeknownst to you, Duncan's taller and larger frame loomed over yours from behind as you flipped through each photo with admiration.

“Couldn’t sleep, kleine blume?” The deep baritone of his voice cutting through your moment of tranquility.

Your blood runs cold from his voice alone, making it harder for you to turn around but eventually, you did. You didn't dare look him in the eye because if you did, it would be like looking back at the void. The soulless gaze reminding you that reason is out of the window. If your words didn't affect him, maybe your touch?

With shaky hands, you set aside the pictures and reached out to him. Even with his one eye, he could still see so much of you. What you were feeling and thinking. It was inescapable.

He gently took in your smaller hand with his large, calloused ones. Placing it on his chest while his other arm sneaked under the blanket and securely placed themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The contrast between his cold look and his gentler actions confuses you on a daily.

“You know, it's bad for the baby to stay up this late, kleiner vogel.” An undertone of menace hidden within the light scolding.

And there it is. The punishment veiled by his feigned worry. It's a trap. However, having learned your lesson in the past, the quickness of your comebacks save you everytime.

“I was having cravings.”

“Of pictures?” His eyebrow raised.

“Why not? They're pretty.”

He chuckles at this, clearly amused by the banter between you. The vibrations from his chest make you feel warm much to your dismay. You should be resisting against him, shout at him, or curse at him for putting you in this position in the first place. But what good would that do? He's already tied you to his godforsaken soul the moment he shot his seed within you. You sigh out at this, laying your head softly on his chest with a resigned fate.

“Anything I can do for you and Ishka?” He inquires gruffly. Petting your head softly as if to reassure you.

There's a simmering anger bubbling beneath your chest, threatening to roar at the man who's going to be your baby's father. You want to tell him that you want to be free from this life and that you would rather die than be chained to him and his child. But, Ishka.. Oh, Ishka..

As much as you don’t like to admit it, you’ve grown to love and attach yourself to your unborn child. The moment that life within you has made its first breath is the final nail in the coffin. Which is why you need to strengthen yourself for this baby. If you can't, you won't survive. You already had pieces of yourself gobbled like a buffet. It’s only a matter of time before the vultures have a pick at the rest of you.

“Can we rest by the fireplace for tonight?” Your innocent gaze peering up at him.

The corners of his lips tug up into a small smile before nodding. He scoops you into his arms, careful not to squish you against him. You absentmindedly nuzzle against the crook of his neck. Which earns you an appreciative grumble, akin to a hound's grumble. Delicately, he places you down onto a makeshift blanket with pillows scattered about. He pulls away to get a blanket and more pillows for the both of you. You cradle the small bump forming along your stomach. Tracing the outline as you made yourself comfortable amongst the pillows. From the corner of your eye, you see a sharp object laying flat on a table, the metal glinting dimly in the moonlight. You then wonder what it’s like to end the vitality of another. All of their dreams and secrets dying along with them, rotting away in the earthly hell that we call soil.

Take it, take your revenge. End the beast. He is a plague that must be eradicated.

Your inner demon whispers to you these words with pure temptation. Almost eager to see the blood spilled and the darkness dissipating from your life once you’ve squashed it like a grimy parasite. But there’s something stopping you from doing it. There’s a sickly feeling that settles within your stomach at the thought. It is dense and suffocating like tar.

You would be no better than the beast who has held you captive for months.

The feeling of beefy arms caging you close to him pulls you out of your train of thoughts. You turn to him, caressing his peppered beard with your small hands.

“Something's troubling you, meine liebe.”

“I'm just tired is all.” The excuse is plain as day, but casual enough to cover up your thoughts.

This response would soon prove to be your downfall as his hands are holding your legs down; spreading them apart, while you mewl and leave small gasps from the way he toys the bundle of nerves resting at your mound. With your wrists bound together above your head, you make small huffs of frustration, desperate to end the game he forces you to play. It's not fair with the way he makes your hole weep with such expertise that would probably leave you an incoherent mess by the end of this session.

“Tell me.” He growls against your clit. The vibrations send your mind into haywire.

He then presses in one of his thick fingers against your tight walls, making you buck in desperate need for that familiar high. Generously, he adds in another one for you to feel the delicious burn, your head thrown back against the plush pillow.

“Ngh–! No..” Breathlessly denying his demand.

“Have it your way then.” Withdrawing his fingers and mouth from your wet mound. Your walls clenching and unclenching for nothing.

“Wait, wait,” Desperately stopping him before he leaves you high and dry.

He stops midway to look down at you, awaiting your response. Your chest rising and falling as desperation can be seen from your gaze. Although, the reluctance is clear as well. You don’t want to admit that you need him or his mouth or his fingers to partake in your ruin. Leaving you at a vulnerable spot, the corners of your eyes fill with the familiar sting followed by a trail of a teardrop. The warmth emitted by the fireplace does nothing to comfort the coldness of your heart. He never wanted you to win in the first place. He will always come out as the victor and the conqueror.

Too distracted by your own anguish, he watches your reaction with a frown. Sitting up, he leans over to brush some of the tears away while whispering sweet-nothings. He frees the binds and kisses your wrists softly as if you were made out of porcelain.

“kleine blume, please tell me what's wrong.”

His voice is softer than you had ever heard it before. However, your trust issues prevented you from fully believing it. It was too good to be true. After all, there's a price for everything with him. And then there's that little voice in the back of your head, equipped with sizzling anger that ignites the spark within you. Nagging you to take the knife and slice his throat open. The thought makes you giggle, a certain madness grasping your rational thought.

Oh where has my mind gone?

You gaze up at him with a smidge of insanity that permeates the light within your eyes. A spark that surprises him but knows all too well. It's a look that younger assassins would have when they would hunt down a target. The thrill of the hunt. Although, he could entertain the idea of you trying to kill him. He would love it. Maybe his little flower has thorns after all.

In swift action, you manage to flip him onto his back, straddling his waist while your hands are placed on his shoulders to hold him down. The action itself unphased Duncan, as if you are boring him with your actions– ultimately pissing you off even more. However, beneath the stoicism lies pride and excitement. The taste for blood feels sweet on the tip of your tongue– too sweet, in fact. Similar to a drug that makes you giddy, but feel like shit the next morning. Quick on your feet, you managed to get a grip on the knife and turn to find Duncan standing close to you. With the blade in hand, you apply pressure to his skin, the tip of the blade stained with a deep scarlet and yet, he does not move.

“Do it, (Y/N).” Inviting you to end his vitality.

You try to, but for some reason you can’t. A lump in your throat forms at the thought of continuing on. The blade shakes within your grip and eventually it falls beneath you, clattering on the wooden surface. You release a shaky breath as another wave of tears come and go. He pulls you in for another hug and you cling onto him tightly as if he was your only lifeline. Amidst the string of apologies from you and his hushed coos, do you realize that you love him. When you part your lips to tell him of such bold declaration, Duncan swoops down to capture your lips. You moan into it, letting his tongue brush over yours as he lifts you up, holding your rear while your legs wrap themselves around his waist. He lowers both of you near the fireplace before pulling away to suck at your peaked breasts. Your hand tangles into his peppered hair while the other is on his shoulder blade.

“Take me, take me, please.” Begging for him to fill you up.

Obligingly, he pushes into your tight hole with a groan, the thickness of it filling you to the brim that it makes you roll your eyes back in pleasure. Carefully, he rolls his hips against yours, the fat tip hitting your cervix with precision. Bringing you closer to that hot rush of a climax.

“Meine süße kleine Blume, du fühlst dich so gut. So verdammt eng. Ich werde dich nie gehen lassen.”

The possessiveness laced in these words cause you to cry out his name. Your toes curling as you press against him. His hips stutter before releasing his seed within your womb. He doesn't pull away for a moment, relishing in the afterglow. In the steady silence and soft ticking of the grandfather clock, one thing is constant in your mind.

You've got him wrapped around your finger.

[loki-tv-daily-deactivated202105]

keanu reeves is don juan in Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

[lonelyspadez]

♰ 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 ♰

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, Predator/Prey dynamic, blood, use of spells/Magick, vampire!wick x Slayer!reader, fighting, angst(?), mentions of Constantine, usage of mind control. (MDNI)

Summary: Hunter becomes the hunted.

You waited with bated breath as time struck at midnight. You were huddled in a corner, trapped and hunted like prey. It was only a matter of time before he came to collect your debt.

The boogeyman. That's what they all called him.

An apparition that came and went as he pleased. A beast that ate the hearts of men. A dragon that burnt down an empire just because someone's son got in the way.

He is no hero.

The searing pain in your leg slowly simmered as you reloaded your pistol. You were supposed to be a hunter damn it. Slaughtering prey for the sake of humanity. Your ex-mentor, Constantine, probably wouldn't get himself into this current dilemma.

“And here I thought you knew better, sweetheart.” A smug smirk plastered onto his face.

Yeah? Well, fuck you. This is my life and I’ll do with it as I please.

It’s ironic that you can still hear his voice after all these years. Rumors circulated he miraculously escaped the clutches of the devil. Or rather, the devil gave him another chance to live, after doing a selfless act.

What was that woman's name? Angie? Angela?

Your memory is a bit fuzzy from the details of their encounter. But if there was something you noticed from the start, there was an unspoken connection between them. She must've done a number on him to make a desperate move that was.. unlike him.

A small, mocking smile graced your lips at the thought of them together. That asshole was finally going to get his happy ending, and here you were, cornered and probably about to meet your end.

The familiar ache in your chest paired with the slight warmth of your face causes you to grit your teeth. Mostly out of pure stubbornness and a rising furor.

I can't cry now. I won't let them see my tears.

Because luck was not on your side tonight. No, tonight, the monsters are on the hunt for your blood. With you bleeding out in a mess of a hideout, they might as well come in and ambush you, but they won’t. They always liked to play with their food before feasting upon their flesh. Relishing in the fear of men, women, and children, always made the kill sweeter.

Gingerly, you stood up from your spot and limped your way towards the kitchen to find some herbal roots to remedy the pain. With a soft whisper of the spell, the roots created a barrier for the wounded spot and slowly healed it as it went. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, feeling the cooling sensation of the herbal roots doing its job.

Reflexively, you drew your gun at the sound of a creak. His presence was near, you could sense it. The dead souls attached to him were almost overwhelming to your senses.

Evil. Danger. Stay away.

Yet, the scent of him contradicted to what the spirits were saying to you. A strong woodsy scent mixed in with undertones of whiskey and bergamot. Your parched throat gulps down the need to follow the scent. It's a honeyed bait, made to lure inexperienced hunters or slayers.

You always thought about what it felt like to roam around for centuries– decades even. The influence of life and death brought to you like a vision projected onto a screen. God, how do these vampires keep it together? The pain of losing the ones you love is quite a feat to deal with. You’ve seen many things turn to dust, burned alive, and shot down by holy shells. But seeing a person slowly turn into a husk of themselves is different than one can imagine. There had also been instances where vampires succumbed to insanity and turned into a bloodthirsty creature of the night. However, if it was up to you, death would’ve been a more pleasant choice.

Your footsteps were light and careful as you maneuvered around the place, making sure to not put too much pressure onto your wounded leg.

“Give it up, голуб.” The deep timbre of his voice echoing slightly in the dark.

Fuck. No.

“What do you want?” Your voice comes off a bit shaky before immediately grounding itself to being firm.

You can’t see it, but the corners of his lips tug up into a small smirk, enjoying the little hide-and-seek game between you. The sickly, sweet scent of your blood is enough for him to track down your little hiding spot. But he won’t do it. That would be too easy for him. He can hear the thumping of her heart, pattering like a rabbit chased by hounds.

“You know the answer to that.” Moving through the shadows with ease. The excitement gleaming within the subtle glow of his eyes.

Just when you knew he was near, you jumped out of your hiding spot to be met with nothing. Your brows slightly furrowed, but your grip on the cool metal didn't falter. Your slight confusion was soon replaced by immediate terror as you heard him appear behind you. A gasp leaving your lips, while he pulled you against him. His hand wraps itself around your neck in a tight grip while the other holds both of your wrists, rendering you immobilized for the moment. With a slight sigh that borderlines defeat, he expresses his disappointment to you.

“About to give up so soon, зайчык?” Taunting you with the possibility of escaping his grip.

“Not to you, asshole.”

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

With a hiss of frustration, you stomp on one of his feet with the back of your heel. He growls out in annoyance and pins your body against the wall. The tips of his fangs threaten to pierce your skin, a slight whimper escaping you.

“No, please no.” The desperation seeping through your stubborn facade.

Turning into one of them fills you with a certain trepidation that settles uneasily within the pits of your stomach. Being a new slayer comes with a lot of complications. Firstly, immunity. A seasoned or full-potential slayer will be immune to becoming a vampire’s familiar or even becoming a vampire themselves. Secondly, the strength of spells, hexes, or even wards. Even if there’s a slight chance of escaping this somewhat eldritch god, he will catch up sooner or later. Paired with consequences that you really won’t like finding out.

He hums back in contemplation, curious what it’ll be like tasting a new slayer’s blood. He’s tasted other slayers before, however; they were bitter and smelled rancid like rotten meat. He buries his nose into her bare neck, she flinches at this.

“Don’t move.” Lightly warning her before feeling her body go still within his hold.

He memorizes each note and undertone of the scent, a familiar memory taking its hold within his mind. Daisies. A distant feeling of warmth fills the void of his undead beating heart, his breathing going slightly labored at the thought of tasting her fresh blood next. He flips her around, his one hand pinning both of her wrists at once while the other was placed at the base of her neck. She can now fully see the intensity of the glow within his eyes. He’s bloodlusted and hungry for something more.

“Who are you?”

“Wha–?”

“Don’t make me ask again, who are you?” He demanded once more, the seams of his self-control slowly coming undone.

When you gave him your name, he didn’t seem to be satisfied by this. In fact, he needed to know more about you. He needed to know if the dreams or visions that he was having were true. He had never been this out of control before, not since when she died. The inner turmoil slowly dimmed the intensity within his eyes. His brows furrowed at the thought that the little slayer before him was the reincarnated version of his wife. He has waited for centuries to feel the touch of her skin, the warmth of a joyous life that now seems a distant memory. Back when, he thought he could’ve somehow protected her from the path of pain and loss. A foolish way of thinking.

“Hey, big fella,” Reaching out to him softly, cutting out whatever he’s currently thinking. “I’ll cut you a deal. How does that sound?”

He grunts in response. So much for words.

“Right, I’ll leave you alone and forget that this bounty ever existed, okay?”

“No.”

You were taken aback by the vampire’s response that you couldn’t form any other words besides leaving your mouth slightly agape. His piercing gaze settled itself onto your lips, an invitation that looked real tasty at the moment. Upon realizing this, you immediately relented the idea of kissing him. As handsome as the devil he is, that kiss would sell your soul. In a moment of panic, you offered him a taste of your blood. The sharpness of his gaze snapped up to yours, searching for lies. It only showed a cocktail of emotions: Hope, fear, and defiance.

He let out a huff of amusement. Your bravery was adorable and admirable to him. With a slight concentration, he was able to push through your mental fortitude without any trouble. Although, it was only enough to lull you into a false sense of security. Your face scrunched up in discomfort and confusion from the projection of his power.

“W-Wait, stop.” Fighting to remain in control, only to realize that he’s about to drink from you. Which is also a bad alternative.

He quietly shushed you, leaning down to prep the area of your skin with soft kisses. Small moans erupt from your throat, the peaks of your breasts hardening. His scruff tickles your supple skin causing a breathless giggle to be heard from you. However, when he skims his fangs across the layer, it shuts you up immediately. There’s an undeniable heat rising within your lower regions, growing uncomfortably with need. Humiliation burned beneath your cheeks, the cherry color evident on your face. Has it been far too long that the need to resist is gone? Desperation perhaps?

A pleasurable pain ripples its way across your skin, shuddering at the numbing feeling. A mix of whimpers and squeaks escape your soft lips as flashes of unrecognizable memories go through your mind. Each and every one displaying a familiar childhood that you've never had experienced before. A light blinds you momentarily before showing a tall, young man around his early 20s with a jovial smile and dimples that complement his features. His dark cloud-like hair is pushed back, flowing with the wind’s direction. The warmth of his honeyed brown orbs holds reverence and pure affection as if you’ve known each other for a long time. A river of sorrow surges through your chest, the strong current pulling you further and further down to the bottomless pit of loss.

Jardani. Jardani. Jardani.

The man's name is chanted through your mind like an imprint. You cry at this, not because of his true name, but because of what he used to be.

Human.

Salty tears leave a trail down your heated cheeks. Your breathing becomes more labored as the beating of your heart pumps more of your vitality to him. Numb from both the pain and sorrow, you don't feel him pulling away from your bloodied skin. Upon looking at your disheveled state, he softens his features slightly as he cups your cheek with his calloused hands. Your eyes are half-lidded from the blood loss and being thrown into a whirlwind of flashbacks. You absentmindedly lean onto his touch for comfort. Strangely, they're not cold, now that you realize it.

Your mouth opens to ask him of what he is until a pack of lycans howl outside the place. His ears perk up at this before throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“M'What are you doing?” Trying to pull back your mushed brain together.

“Taking you with me.” He simply replies.

You don't struggle against him. You're too weak and disoriented to form any other coherent thought at this moment. Confusion doesn't help you in the slightest in this moment either. Maybe if you rest for now, you'll recover and escape. Or well, try to at least. You close your eyes and you are welcomed to the land of hopeful dreams.

[paleepeaches]

I really thought me being infatuated with Keanu Reeves would just be a phase but it’s really not. It’s been like a year already and I totally get why my mom had such a raging crush on him in the 90’s. Even now that old man is hot af.

[persephone411]

He looks so goooodd 😩😩😩

[scarlettspectra-deactivated2026]

A/N1: If you’re feeling down, it’s probably best not to read this fic. It’ll break your heart. READ TW A/N2: Sorry I didn’t go into detail about the funeral ceremony. I just didn’t have the energy for it. Here is a reference for the ceremonial last call Pairing: Ghost!Jack Traven x GN!reader. Tags: angst, fluff, nsfw, 18+ Warnings: the main character death, s@icide, dead dove don’t eat Word count: 3,1k

You stood among the officers in their black uniforms. Each one wore their sorrow behind stoic expressions, but you could feel it. Your eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, not to shield against the bright Los Angeles sun but to conceal the redness from hours of sobbing.

You looked at the large photo in a black frame. It was Jack, in his uniform, his smile bright and his brown eyes shining full with life, as if nothing could ever bring him down. You wanted to look at him forever, but the sight only deepened the hollow ache in your chest. You were ready to weep openly, but you held on.

The officers stood at attention, raising their hands in a sharp salute as the dispatcher’s voice crackled through the radio.

“Jack 3-6.” 

The words rang out, slicing through the stillness. Your breath caught. You knew what was coming next, but a part of you still clung to the desperate hope of hearing his voice one last time. The thought twisted like a knife in your heart.

“Jack 3-6, this is central dispatch.” 

Silence followed. There was no response. There wouldn’t be.

“Jack 3-6, Officer Jack Traven, badge number 1701, please respond.” 

You were barely holding on. The silence felt suffocating.

“No response from Jack 3-6.” 

Your vision blurred, the tears breaking free despite your best efforts to hold them back. The dispatcher paused, voice trembling slightly as emotion broke through the formality.

“All units, be advised: Officer Jack Traven, badge 1701, squad 114, is not responding.” 

The words were too much. You felt your legs wobble, barely holding you up. Jack’s voice, his laugh - it was all gone, and a call sign that would never be answered again.

“Police Officer Jack Traven, badge 1701, having bravely served his community with honor and distinction, completed his duty on October 15th. Officer Jack Traven, 3-6, will never be forgotten. May God rest his soul.”

An officer approached, moving slowly. In his hands is the triangle-folded American flag, a symbol of Jack’s sacrifice, now meant for you to hold. The officer offered a quiet nod before placing the flag in your shaking hands.

That was when the sobs came. You couldn’t hold them back anymore, couldn’t keep the mask in place. You shook, gasping for breath as the grief ripped through you like a storm.

Jack was gone.

Everyone around you spoke in hushed tones, their hands reaching out to touch your shoulder, offering their condolences, but you couldn’t hear them. Their words seemed to float by, muffled by the overwhelming noise of your sobs. 

You didn’t even remember how you ended up in your apartment.

“You want me to stay with you?” came a distant voice from behind.

You shook your head, the sound of the door slamming shut barely registering. Slowly, you slipped off your shades, your fingers hesitating over the folded flag before gently setting it next to them on the table. Your eyes wandered around the apartment. It was a small space, but it had always felt cozy. A corner of peace and quiet you had built together piece by piece. Now, though, the walls seemed to close in, turning what had once been a warm refuge into a prison.

Your throat was dry. You made your way to the kitchen counter, grabbing a glass from the cupboard with slightly trembling hands. As you turned on the faucet, the sound of the water pouring out echoed loud in your ears. You stared into the glass as it filled, watching the water swirl and flow…

Jack grabbed a berry and threw it in his mouth instead of decorating a cake and you burst out laughing, “Jack! It should be on the top of the cake, not in your mouth! ” You tried to stop him from eating the next berry by gently grabbing his wrist.

“Hey!” Jack laughed in response, ”I just make sure they’re delicious.” Suddenly, you were already pressing your back against his hard chest, his strong, sinewy arms wrapping around you, pulling you tighter to him, his lips tenderly brushing your neck…

“Fuck!” you muttered, water spilling over the edge of the glass and dripping down your hand. With an irritated swipe, you shut off the faucet.  The rim touched your lips, but before you could take a sip, the water hit your tongue, and your body recoiled. You spat it out instantly, your throat seizing with a wave of nausea. Slamming the glass down on the counter, your hand gripped the edge of the sink. You tried to cough, agonizing over the thick lump of pain lodged in your throat, but it couldn’t budge, which made it harder to breathe. A scream tore out of you, wild and uncontained, as if trying to force the pain to leave your body.

Useless. 

Night fell, and you lay in bed, Jack’s plaid blue shirt jacket clutched to your chest, his scent still clinging to it. You buried your face in the fabric, sobbing so hard you couldn’t breathe.

Oh, babe. I wish I could hold you and make everything better. Jack lay beside you, his ghostly form shimmering faintly in the darkness. His translucent hand traced the lines of your face, though you couldn’t see him, couldn’t feel the touch he so desperately wished you could.

It had been three days. 

Just three days, but it felt like an eternity. Every day was the same: lying in bed, curled up in his jacket, clutching it like the last piece tethering you to life.

Time dragged on, but the ache remained. You had gone back to work, but everything felt mechanical, like you were moving through the motions of your day with no feeling, just doing what needed to be done. No more, no less. 

You came home and tossed your keys into the small plate by the door…

“I just need to get some air…” Jack’s voice echoed in your mind, sharp with frustration, as he had snatched the car keys from that very plate. You still remembered the way the door slammed behind him. It used to happen sometimes, those stupid little fights that had felt so important in the moment. Now they felt so small, so trivial. How you wished you could go back and tell him none of it mattered.

At home, you did the bare minimum of chores before collapsing onto the couch with his jacket wrapped tightly around you, staring blankly at the TV. The images on the screen flickered, meaningless and distant.

Babe… Jack wished to pull you close, to wrap his arms around you, and whisper the comfort you so desperately needed. But his voice remained a ghostly whisper, and no matter how hard he tried, his hands passed through you like air. He was powerless.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice, and felt a touch on your cheek.

“Mmm?” You hesitated to open your eyes, not wanting to scare off the dream.

“Babe...”

“Jack?”

“Yeah. I’m back.”

Slowly, you opened them and saw him crouching beside you, his expression weary yet soft, and the warm smile he gave you made your heart race.

“What time is it?” you mumbled.

“Ehm…” He looked at his wristwatch. “2 a.m.”

“The dinner’s probably cold by now,” you sighed, your voice barely a whisper.

“Lucky for us, we live in the age of microwaves.” He chuckled, and you found yourself smiling, just a little.

“You must be tired. Come on,” Jack murmured as he stood up, effortlessly scooping you into his arms. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your face against the warmth of his skin while he carried you to bed.

“How was your day?” you purred, half-dozing. Your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, enjoying his familiar scent.

“Not bad at all. Some bad guys went to jail,” he said softly, laying you down carefully. You hummed in sleepy approval. He stroked your head, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, bringing a small smile to your lips. “Now, get some sleep.”

“Mmm... I should’ve said that and kissed you like that.”

“You’ll do it next time, for sure.” Jack kissed you again, his lips lingering against your skin. 

Through heavy lids, you watched as he undressed. He tossed his clothes aside without care, revealing his tanned skin. 

God, his body. It was a masterpiece. Broad shoulders, a strong chest, long, muscular legs. You had seen him naked countless times, but it never failed to take your breath away. There was nothing boastful about him - his physique was simply the natural result of his job full of action, not something he carefully cultivated or flaunted. He never used his handsomeness as an asset for privilege. In fact, you doubted he even realized how captivating he was. You always found it endearing how he blushed, just a little, whenever you complimented him. He was modest, even shy at times.

That was Jack - humble, open-minded, and kind-hearted. He cared for those who needed it, never asking for anything in return, never seeking recognition, whether in work, in friendship or in relationships.

He disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of running water was soothing, lulling you closer to sleep. By the time he returned, his skin glistening with droplets, a towel wrapped loosely around his narrow hips, you were almost gone.

Moments later, Jack crawled into bed beside you, slipping under the blanket and wrapping himself around you like a big spoon. His warmth, the fresh smell of soap, all of it brought you peace. You closed your eyes, pressing your back against him.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered.

He kissed your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. “I missed you too.”

For a while, you stayed silent. But the fear, the doubt, crept back in, as it always did. “You know, every time I’m afraid that you...”

“Hey, don’t think about bad things. I’ll always come back.”

You turned in his arms to face him, your eyes pleading. “Do you promise?”

There was a hesitation, a flicker of doubt in his expression, but then he smiled, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek. 

“Yes. I promise.”

“I love you, Jack.”

“I love you even more, babe.”

Your heart sank, a sick feeling coiling tightly in your chest. How could he? A wave of anger surged through you. How could he make that promise? How could he lie? You knew it was stupid to accuse him, to rage at him like this. But he had promised… He had said he would always come back! 

You blinked back tears. It wasn’t fair to feel this way. He hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to... You swallowed hard, shutting your eyes against the rising tears. 

I’m so sorry, babe… All that time Jack watched, ached, wanting to hold you, but the distance between you felt unbridgeable. 

“Jack… I miss you so much,” you sobbed, clutching his jacket tighter against you, the fabric already drenched with your tears. You tried to tell yourself to stop, knowing that holding on only intensified your anguish, yet you couldn’t release your grasp. It was as if the jacket embodied him, and the idea of letting him go hurt like hell.

My love, I know you’re hurting, but you have to let me go…

Your response was a desperate wail, muffled by the jacket you buried your face into, as if Jack would appear if you could just hold onto it tight enough.

A half year had passed. The pain hadn’t dulled. The therapist your friend insisted you see had been no help at all. “You need to focus on yourself now,” they’d said. You nodded, pretended to consider it. Oh, those stupid rehearsed lines. Write a letter. Let go. Move forward. Redefine your life. Blah. Blah. Blah. Bullshit! They didn’t understand. None of them did. They had no idea what it felt like to live every day, every damn second without him. Writing a letter wouldn’t bring him back or fill the empty space in your bed. Letting him go wasn’t a simple task, like dusting the shelves. Jack hadn’t been just love; he had been life itself. And without him, there was no moving on, no replacement. There was nothing. Just endless grief. No one could understand that kind of loss. They’d never loved like this.

One night, like every night since he’d been gone, you pulled his jacket from the chair and crawled into bed. It was your only solace, the one thing that still felt like home. You buried your face in the folds of it, breathing him in, letting the faint smell wrap around you like his arms once had. But this time, something felt wrong.

Your heart raced. Your eyes widened, panic blooming in your chest like wildfire.

“No!” You bolted upright. “No-no-no!” You frantically twisted the jacket around, pressing your nose into the collar. His scent was fading. Fading, as if he was slipping away from you. You pressed the jacket closer, tighter, trying to pull him back from the edge.

Tears streamed down your face, sobs wracking your body, your fingers trembling as you clutched it to your chest. You cried harder than you had in days, your voice hoarse from the effort.

Oh, my love... let me go…please… Jack pleaded.

“I can’t live without you!” you cry out, the words cracking under the weight of your grief. Your body shook, trembling with the ache, unable to breathe through the overwhelming sorrow.

You stumbled out of bed, your legs heavy and unsteady. Reaching the bathroom, you gripped the cold porcelain sink for support. You sobbed quietly now, fingers clutching the edges of the sink.

When you lifted your eyes to the mirror, the reflection staring back seemed foreign. Hollow eyes, pale, gaunt cheeks, and a hunched, worn out figure. You barely recognized yourself anymore.

“I want to be with you…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Babe… we’ll be together again. But not yet... Jack’s gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror, his heart aching at the pain you were in.

With trembling hands, you opened the mirrored door, your fingers grazing the pill bottles. Your mind felt numb, wrapped in a darkness of pain too deep to escape. One by one, you turned the bottles, reading each name and carefully lining them up on the shelf.

Babe? Jack’s voice came softly, filled with concern.

You didn’t respond. Of course. You uncorked the first bottle, staring at the pills inside.

Babe?! Jack’s voice grew urgent as he watched you.

One.

Two.

Please, stop!

Another pill, then another. You popped them into your mouth, swallowing dry, not even wincing at the bitter taste. Jack’s transparent hand reached out, trembling with panic.

No! He swung his hand desperately, trying to knock the pills from your grasp, but it passed straight through. His face contorted in horror.

Don’t! I’m begging you! Jack’s voice cracked with helplessness. He stood close, his form flickering frantically as you swallowed more. Desperate, he yanked at the shower curtain and grabbed items from the shelf in a frantic attempt to get your attention. But nothing shifted.

His hands flew to his head, fingers scratching his scalp almost to the point of bruising as he let out a tormented growl. What have you done?! His voice jagged as he circled the small space like a caged wild animal. What have you done?… What have you done…

You made your way to the bed, each step feeling like you were slogging through a swamp. With a deep breath, you lay down, your eyes fluttering closed.

“If there’s anything out there… I want to be with you,” you whispered into the silence, your breath shaky. “If not… I don’t want to live without you.”

Jack threw himself to his knees beside you.

Why? he choked out, his hands covering his face. He shook with sobs, helpless to stop what was happening.

“Jack?” your voice trembled but was filled with joy. You saw him. Not the ghostly figure, not the fleeting shadow, but Jack. Solid, real, kneeling beside your body. Your heart leaped as you threw your arms around him. He looked up. “Oh, Jack!”

You embraced him, pulling him close, tears streaming down your face as you clung to him. His hands, large and warm, cupped your face. His lips, soft and familiar, kissed your wet cheeks, your forehead, your trembling mouth.

“My love,” Jack whispered against your skin, his breath warm and tangible. You kissed him back, your fingers gliding over his velvety-soft hair, your heart racing with the thrill of finally being able to touch him again.

“I missed your kisses so much,” you whispered, your lips finding his once more in a desperate, passionate kiss. 

“Now we’ll be together for good,” you breathed, your forehead pressed against his. Jack tried to smile through his tears, his lips never leaving yours as he kissed you again and again, as if he wanted to capture each one.

“What have you done…” 

“Jack, it doesn’t matter,” you chuckled softly.

“You shouldn’t have done this…” His tears still streamed down. You instantly cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He placed his hands on yours.

“Oh, you big softie,” you laughed as you brushed away his tears. “The main thing is we’re together now, isn’t it?”

But then you felt something - something was wrong. Your hands, still resting on his cheeks, were fading, becoming translucent. The warmth was draining from them.

“Jack?” you pulled back slightly, your eyes widening in panic as you stared at your hands, now nearly transparent. “What’s happening? I’m scared…”

Jack’s face fell. He grabbed your hand, squeezing tight even though neither of you could truly feel it.

“Babe…” His voice cracked.

“Jack, what’s going on?!” You panicked, your heart racing as the joy instantly crumbled into fear.

He hesitated, his eyes glistening with tears. “You made… your choice… and people like you… move on to another place.” His voice faltered as he looked away.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What? Wait! No! I want to be with you!” You desperately tried to hold on, but you were slipping away, falling faster into the void.

“I’m so, so sorry. If only I could change it…” Jack’s voice broke as he looked at you. “I love you, babe… I always will.”

“Jack!” you cried out, reaching for him as your body continued to fade. The last thing you saw were his beautiful, sad brown eyes, filled with sorrow before you sank into the darkness.

[lonelyspadez]

SO MUCH ANGST IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM OUT AND CRY.